by Ws Greer
“Make sure she gets the Director’s Suite, okay? And charge it to me,” Dominic says, and my heart perks up like the clerk.
“Oh my god, Dominic, you don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine in a normal room. Really,” I try to tell him.
“I know you will, but I think you’ll like this one better,” he says with a smile, then he turns back to the clerk who’s already clicking keys on the computer to check me into the suite. “And do me another favor; make sure we have reservations at the VIP Lounge in two hours. Capisci?”
“Understood, Mr. Collazo,” the nervous clerk replies, then he hands Dominic the keys to my room, who hands them to me.
“So, listen,” he says. “I got some business I gotta tend to, but I’m gonna meet you right here in this spot in exactly two hours. Can you be ready by then?”
“Can I be ready for what by then?”
“I thought maybe we could go to dinner. I figure we need to catch up after ten years apart.”
My heart explodes, and sends tiny rays of happiness shooting through my body, but I don’t let Dominic see my excitement. I let out a sigh like I’m bothered by his pushiness, but I really just want to dance with joy.
“Well, good thing I don’t have anything planned, huh?” He doesn’t respond, he just flashes his devilishly sexy smile. “Alright then, I’ll see you in two hours.”
“Okay.” With that, Dominic turns on his heel and heads back out the way we came in.
The valets are replaced by bellboys who carry my luggage for me and lead me to my room. I’ve got two hours to get ready for dinner with Dominic on my first night back in St. Louis. Whether it’s two hours or two hundred hours, there isn’t enough time in the world to prepare for this.
Dominic
Two of the other three captains are already seated at the glass table in The Lodge when I get there. They look confused and pissed when I walk in. Confused because we’ve all been called on by Frankie Leonetti without an explanation, and pissed because we’ve been pulled away from whatever we had going on in our lives to come here without explanation.
John looks the most perturbed as he sits with his arms folded across his chest like a pouting child. He eyes me when I walk in like he wants to say something about me arriving last, but he thinks better of it—probably has something to do with how our last conversation ended.
Big Sal is the one who speaks first when I walk in.
“You know what this is about, Dominic?” he asks as he stands up to greet me with a hug.
“No. I just got the message to show up. I was hoping one of you was gonna tell me,” I reply.
“Nah, I guess we all got the same message,” Sal says as we sit down. The second our butts hit the seats, the door swings open and Frankie struts in.
There’s something different about him. There’s something about the way he saunters in that makes me do a double take. He has the look of a man who has information that only he knows. The rest of us are out of the loop and he likes it. He sits at the table, which is normal, but it’s where he sits that brings the confusion in the room to a peak. He’s in the head seat, which is supposed to be reserved for Leo.
I know why we’re here now.
“I called on all the captains to let you know that Leo and Jimmy got picked up this morning,” Frankie says. His voice is somber, but his face isn’t. “Danny Ramano gave a statement and ratted on both of them, and they’ve been charged with murder, conspiracy to commit murder, money laundering, and racketeering. Looks like the feds are trying to get them both with RICO. We all knew it was coming. Leo and Jimmy prepared us for this, so I guess it shouldn’t be too surprising.”
It’s true we all knew this was coming, but that doesn’t make it any easy to accept. I guess somewhere deep down I was hoping Danny would wise up and change his mind, but when the Feds have their hooks in you and you know you can help yourself out by taking a deal, fuhgeddaboutit.
None of the captains say anything. I guess we just let it sink in that Leo Capizzi is, more than likely, gone for good, and so is the underboss, Jimmy Gravatto. The change we all knew was coming is actually here now. Ready or not, here it is.
Frankie straightens out his jacket and does a little stretch with his neck from side to side like he’s about to say something huge, but we already know what it is.
“So, until we have an official new boss, I’m the acting boss,” Frankie announces like we all expected. He’s the senior capo in the family, and we all respect the guy anyway. It all makes sense, and although it sucks to lose a longtime boss like Leo, I think we’ve all mentally prepared for Frankie to begin his reign. “Now that that’s official, you all know how I do business. I don’t like being caught off guard by anything, so is there anything going on out there that I need to be made aware of? Is there any beef in the streets that needs to be brought to my attention? If not, I’m gonna assume everything is running smoothly and it’s gonna be business as usual for The Family. So?”
Frankie starts making eye contact with each captain one at a time. He starts with John, who’s still got his arms folded like a brat as he shakes his head. Then he moves to Big Sal.
“Nah, I got nothing, Frankie,” Sal confesses. “A couple of guys not paying their taxes on time, but it’s being handled. No worries.”
“You do what you gotta do to make sure you get paid,” Frankie replies. “I expect everyone’s kick-up to be the same as it was with Leo. Nothing changes right now, until this thing becomes permanent. How about you, Dominic. How’s the casino business?”
As Frankie looks at me, I think about the meeting I had this morning with Abram Baskov, the defiant twenty-four year old heir to the Chicago Russian mafia fortune. Is this something I need to be passing up to Frankie right now? Is this the kind of thing I can’t handle on my own? Would my father pull the boss into his personal business and give him the impression that he can’t handle it without help?
Fuck no.
Abram Baskov is a self-righteous little prick whose mouth writes checks his spoiled little ass can’t cash. Yeah, he’s rich, and he probably has sufficient protection because of that, and yes, his father and uncle were ruthless killers and heroin distributors right next door to our Chicago Outfit. And yes, he even survived a gunshot wound or two to the abdomen a few years back, but those points are irrelevant, because Abram Baskov is not a gangster. He’s not a street guy. He’s merely the son of a dead Russian mob boss, nothing more.
This is something I can handle on my own, and I don’t need help from anybody. I can tell from Abram’s baby-face and slick hair that he’ll be easy to get rid of. I just have to push the right buttons and he’ll pack up and ship out without much resistance. I’m not worried about him, so Frankie shouldn’t either.
“Bellissimo,” I reply in Italian with a convincing smile. “We’re all good Frankie. Only thing you gotta be concerned about is the headache that comes with being the boss.”
“Hey, hey, I’m just the acting boss,” Frankie says, mirroring my smile.
“Yeah, but you know it’s coming. Get over here, man. Congratulations.” I stand up and congratulate Frankie with a hug, and the other captains do the same. We exchange some laughter and pat Frankie on the back for getting upped to the top spot, even though it’s not official.
I’m genuinely happy for the guy. Frankie’s been in Our Thing a long time, and there’s no other guy I’d rather see as the boss than someone who was loyal to my father the way Frankie was. That’s another reason why I have to secure the Lumiere. The location of that hotel is perfectly off the highway, and I can really put a smile on Frankie’s face by giving him the gift of a new place to stash merchandise without having to drive off the main road. We’re all in this thing to make money, and the Lumiere helps all of us do that.
Which is why after all the congratulations, and after I leave The Lodge to head back to River City to prep for my date with Alannah, I pull out my cellphone and dial up Tommy Two Nines, who’s been waiting for my call.<
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Alannah
I’m still in awe of everything, even as I stand in the lobby waiting for Dominic. It’s not only the room I just changed in, with its king-sized bed, refrigerator, big-screen TV, and massive Jacuzzi and bathtub. It’s the fact that I’m here at all. I was in Alaska earlier this morning, and now I’m St. Louis, standing in River City, waiting for Dominic to meet me so we can go to dinner. I mean, how is it possible that this is happening already?
I can’t believe I’ve already seen him, and he’s doing so well. He looks better than I imagined he would, too: big, round shoulders, apparent even through the suit he was wearing, and a strong, chiseled face with sexy plump lips. He’s morphed from being an awkward kid who everyone called Ugly Dominic, and turned into a sex god who owns a casino. All of it’s unbelievable.
But as excited as I am about all of this, I’m anxious to get this dinner started so I can find out about the things I’m most curious about. Like, is he still doing the mafia type stuff he was doing when we were kids? I think I’d be dumb to assume he’s not. He was into that when we were in the fifth grade. It’s all he knows. But just how deep does the rabbit hole go? Is he a ruthless killer? Does he extort money from people by threatening to kill their mothers? I mean, just how bad is it, and how far is too far for me?
When we were kids, I knew Dominic was into some sketchy stuff and I still loved him. So, how much is too much now? Is there such a thing as too much? I guess we’re about to find out, because he’s strutting his way into the lobby like he owns the place . . . because he does.
I have to remind myself to breathe as he approaches with his hands in the pockets of the black slacks he changed into. He’s wearing a dark gray button-up with the top button undone, teasing a sneak peak of his muscular chest. Every girl in the lobby is staring, but he’s fixated on me. He smiles and chuckles as he stops in front of me.
“Are you okay?” he asks, still grinning. “You look like you just saw a ghost or two.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” I reply. I have to snap myself out of it. “I just can’t believe I’m here. With you.”
“Neither can I. You look phenomenal. What do you say we go sit down so we can catch up?” he says, still admiring the tight black dress I decided to wear.
“Perfect.”
Dominic leads me through the lobby and into an elevator. We don’t talk as we head up to nearly the top of the building. As soon as the door opens, we’re greeted by an amazing view of St. Louis. The windows to the VIP Lounge are as tall as the walls themselves, and it’s stunning. Alaska is a beautiful, outdoorsy place, but there’s nothing there that gives you a city view like this.
The lounge is mostly dark red, with beautiful gold fixtures and chandeliers. Dominic walks right past the redheaded hostess and leads me to a gold table with red and gold seats. We sit down and are immediately asked for our drink order by the same redheaded hostess we passed. Dominic orders a Sprite and Apple Crown Royal, and I decide to ease into a cranberry vodka. Once the hostess is gone, Dominic eyeballs me with a smirk teasing his lips.
Just breathe, I remind myself.
“Wow,” Dominic begins. “I didn’t think I was ever gonna see you again, Alannah. It’s pretty incredible that you’re sitting across from me right now. What made you decide to come back?”
“I told you, I got a job at Mercy Hospital,” I answer, trying to play it cool.
“I know, but you could’ve gotten a job in a hospital in Alaska. You wouldn’t have gotten a job here without applying for it. So, what made you decide to come back?”
“Umm,” I start playing with the gold silverware on the table because I’m nervous. “Honestly, I came back here because I always wanted to. I never wanted to leave, so when I got my degree, I decided to apply for a job in the place I always wanted to live. It was a longshot, but it worked out.”
He smiles like he already knows there’s more to it than that.
“That’s awesome. So, what have you been up to the past decade? I mean, I figured you would’ve been married with kids by now.”
“Me? No way.”
“Not even a long-term boyfriend after all this time?”
“I mean, I’ve dated, but nothing too serious. What about you? Girls must be flocking to you, Mr. Casino Owner.”
Dominic smiles humbly.
“I haven’t been interested, and I haven’t had the time to really care about anybody else. I’ve been busy with work.”
The mention of “work” sends a sharp tingle down my spine.
“Busy with work. You talking about the casino business, or the other kind of work?” I ask, doing my best to tread lightly but failing. I’m thinking about it too much to just let it go, so I go for it. “Like the kind of work you used to do with your dad when we were kids?”
He doesn’t look pissed, but he doesn’t look happy either. He shifts in his seat a little and clears his throat like he’s uncomfortable, which isn’t something he used to do when I knew him all those years ago.
“Getting right down to it, huh?” he says. “You seem genuinely curious, but I’m not sure you actually want to know what you think you want to know.”
“I do want to know,” I reply. “What do you have to hide?”
“I have no need to hide,” he snips, frowning a little. “You only hide when you’re afraid, and I’m not afraid of anything or anybody, so I don’t hide or lie. I just don’t know what you actually want to know.”
“I learned a lot while I was gone,” I answer, just as the hostess delivers our drinks. “A byproduct of growing up, I guess. One of the things I was really interested in was the kind of stuff you used to tell me about. The things you and your father were into were things the police put a lot of effort into getting rid of in this city, so I’m just curious.”
“The police can think that they got rid of something if they want to,” he says, avoiding the word mafia. There aren’t many people in the VIP Lounge, but it’s better to be careful. “I’d prefer they think that, actually. But the thing my father was a part of will always be around, it just operates differently now. Quieter.”
“And you’re a part of that now?” I sip my drink to try to prepare myself for the answer.
“I always have been.”
My heart picks up pace. I knew it, but now I really know it. Dominic is still in the mafia. It’s easy to think about the rumors and misconceptions of what people say about the mafia, but I don’t really know what that means, in all honesty. I think I want to find out, but maybe now isn’t the best time. I think confirmation of Dominic being a member of the St. Louis mob is enough for the first night.
A waiter comes over to the table and takes our order—I order a steak, Dominic gets the most expensive lobster on the menu—and I use the interlude to change the subject.
“I tried to write you, you know?”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, twice,” I tell him. “The letters came back both times. I just figured you moved or something. Which kind of reminds me of something else. So, I have another question.”
“Uh-oh. More questions.”
“Nothing bad. I was just wondering if you got my letter.”
He looks confused.
“I thought you said the letters got sent back.”
“Those did get sent back, but this is a different letter,” I reply. “I wrote it before we moved to Alaska, and I left it in your mom’s mailbox. I guess she decided not to give it to you. Or maybe she never got it. I don’t know. Never mind, I guess.”
“Hmm. Nah, I don’t know nothing about no letter,” Dominic says, as he starts devouring his lobster and digging into the baked potato that came with it. As he chews, he leans over so he can reach into his back pocket, then he places a folded piece of paper on the table and looks at me with a grin.
“What’s this?” I ask as I reach for it. He doesn’t answer, so I unfold the paper and I’m shocked to see that it’s my letter to him. The writing is faded, but it’s still le
gible. It’s my letter.
“I take it with me everywhere I go. Always have,” he says. He smiles at me as tears fill my eyes, then he goes back to his food like it’s no big deal.
But it is. To me, it is.
“I can’t believe you still have this after all this time. It’s been ten years, Dominic. Why do you still have this?” I ask as my voice starts to shake with emotion.
“Because you wrote it,” he replies nonchalantly. “My mother gave it to me the day of my father’s funeral. It goes where I go.”
“This is incredible,” I say, doing my best to shake away the tears. I fold up the paper and hand it back to him, and he pushes it into his back pocket, its home for the past ten years.
We finish our dinner—which Dominic pays for without hesitation—and make our way to the elevator. The doors close behind us and I’m filled with all kinds of emotions. On one hand, Dominic admitted he’s still in the mob, and on the other hand, he still carries my letter around with him every single day, and he’s been doing it for a decade straight. If that isn’t love, then what the hell do you call it? But he said it all so casually that I’m not sure how he even feels about me. The fact that he’s still carrying my letter around has to mean something, though. Right? I mean, he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t care. Would he?
The elevator opens and I die inside, because I don’t want the night to end. We’ve stopped on the floor of my suite, and Dominic walks me to my door.
“I’m sure you’re probably tired after all the traveling and whatnot,” he says. “Sorry I didn’t let you rest before asking you out to dinner, but I’m really glad you came.”
“It was my pleasure. Thanks for asking. I’ll definitely sleep well tonight. I had a good time, though. It was good catching up.”
“Yeah, it was. But we still have more catching up to do. Ten years’ worth. So, I have to see you again. And then again after that. And probably again after that, too.”
We both laugh, and my insides fill up with teeny-tiny butterflies.
