The Claim

by Billy London

  “Nonna!” his mother had cried. “Please not in front of Rocky.”

  “He’s thirty-three years old—he’s said the word before!” Nonna cut her dark eyes to Rocco, who was trying not to laugh at the way his grandmother bandied about profanities. “I’m not joking. I want to sue him. I know my rights.”

  “You want to sue Enzo Vitale?”

  “Why not?”

  “You don’t want to consider, perhaps, alternative options rather than the tribunals?”

  His grandmother pointed a curved finger to his head. “Just because your father was stupid enough to get his arse thrown in prison, doesn’t mean he got that from my genes.”

  “Nonna.”

  “No. Do it properly. Sue him. Please. I’ve got money to pay you for your restrainer.”

  “Retainer, Nonna.”

  The older woman shrugged. “Same thing. Get me someone good. Someone who’ll mess that little prick up, good and proper.”

  “My grandmother, Ronnie Biggs,” he murmured. “Let me talk to Nick.”

  “Nicky is a good boy. If I asked him to do something for me on the right lines, he’d do it. Aren’t you a good boy?”

  “Nonna.”

  “Then it’s settled. I need to go shopping. I want to look like that Margulies woman from The Good Wife when we go to court.”

  As soon as his grandmother left the room, his mother made the sign of the cross. “You see what I’ve had to put up with? I left your father for a reason. Him being mad was one part and his mother was the other two-thirds. I know you love her, but I can’t bear this. Just do what she wants.”

  “I can’t just serve papers on Enzo Vitale. I’m supposed to keep the law out, not drag it in.”

  “Then talk to Nicky, or let me call his father.”

  Jesus. “Mama, look. There are ways of doing things, and trust me, this isn’t right.”

  “Ask. Please. For the sake of the little sanity I’ve got left.”

  With a sigh of the weary, he’d picked up his mobile and made a call.

  “Sue him,” Nick said shortly.

  It took Rocco a full minute to recover. “What? Are you serious?”

  “I can’t touch him at the moment.”

  “Why?”

  “His dad just died. I know my dad ordered it, but he won’t confirm it so I can’t say anything about it. If I do anything to Enzo now, it’ll confirm whatever doubts are in people’s heads. So I’ve been told to leave the Vitale offspring alone.”

  “Nick, seriously, this is the biggest load of—”

  “Everyone likes your nonna. He shouldn’t have sacked her, so it’s his own fault if he gets caught out in his business dealings. Even better, get someone independent to do it.”

  His mind flickered over the independence of that certain someone and flickered back to the conversation. “All right. Whatever fallout there is, you’ve got to brave it.”

  “With pleasure.”

  Two words that guaranteed a future massacre. He wondered what Enzo had done to make Nick an enemy. But then Enzo was a man who’d looked sideways twice at Nick’s new wife, so of course, the man was on a hit list.

  “All right. I catch you up later.” Now, here he was, at Piper & Co., in a brand new office, with old clients begging him not to stop acting for them, and the woman he was convinced he was going to marry ready to snap his spine in two. Now, why did he feel like smiling?

  Anna skipped the lunch. She ignored Charles’ phone calls and instead sent a text. Last minute client meeting. Sorry. From past experience, she knew there was no way Charles would be back, and neither would Rocco. Lunch with her boss was always a complete working write off, because once he started ordering drinks and food, you were done for.

  Pathetically, Anna felt a lump forming in her throat, so she did what any girl would do. She called a friend.

  “Hi, Imogen.”

  “Hey. Can you hold on one moment? I have to get the stylist to hold the phone properly.” It shouldn’t have surprised her—Imogen was the ultimate yummy mummy. She was a vision in the flesh, and whatever time she didn’t spend beautifying, she spent ordering her latest nanny into an early nervous breakdown. Well, she’d earned it, or rather her husband had, with a little help from Anna. Without her brief chat to Charles, Neil would not have the firm as one of his biggest clients to his bank.

  “You never call during the day. What’s wrong?”

  “Just...new partner.”

  “And you’re feeling threatened? Listen, darling, you wouldn’t have been offered partnership if you weren’t amazing at your job. I know you told me how much client revenue you billed in the last year and it was huge, so I commend you. If the newbie doesn’t fall into line soon, they’ll do it sharpish. No, no, Rudolpho, I said beachy, not boho. Boho has been over for years. I’ve got to go, darling, I’ll need a tiny favour later, so I’ll call. Bye!”

  Imogen ended the call. Anna flicked through her phone and called someone more sensible. “Mimi, hey.”

  “Got surgery in fifteen minutes, honey, are you okay?”

  Anna rubbed a hand over her eyes. “Remember that guy who drop-kicked me like a rioter trying to get into JD Sports?”

  “Wow. Yes, I remember you telling me about him.”

  “He’s now one of the partners of my firm.”

  “You are joking!”

  “Nope. Apparently, all to get me to do a sensitive case.”

  “Obviously he loves you and he’s sorry about what happened,” Mimi drawled.

  “Mimi, shut up.”

  “Is that what you want to hear? You’re not the type of woman that has incurable amnesia about your love life. You know what happened—do you want to go back there?”

  “No!”

  “Then as much as I love you, you’ve got to suck it up. You can’t throw away everything you’ve worked for because you want to escape.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You’re thinking about it or you wouldn’t have called me.”

  “I’m not. I promise. I just.” She breathed out.

  “Anna, what’s going on?”

  “I finally started to like this job, you know? For the first time, everything stopped being such an uphill struggle and I thought finally, this is what I got into the law to do. Now he comes along. Meems, I am so fucking angry right now.”

  “And you fully deserve to be. But don’t let anyone doubt why you have that job. Go home, have a hot bath, a glass of wine, two glasses of wine, watch something funny and relax. It’s a work environment. You’ve got where you are because you can do this blindfolded. Okay? Hon, I’ve really got to go, but I’ll call you later, okay?”

  “Okay. Thank you.” She didn’t say it, because it was so hard for her to let that out, but Mimi knew what that pause meant.

  “And I love you too. Be strong.”

  Chapter Three

  Rocco had his feet on his desk, listening to a detective sergeant explaining where the interview tape was for a client. Anna had spent the last week ignoring his e-mails and invitations for lunch both through Charles and when he contacted her directly. In fact, she had an auto response for his e-mails: You don’t seem to be spinning on it.

  The next option was bringing in the big guns, and just as he thought of the insane old bat, he saw his nonna stroll into the office. But she didn’t head to him, instead she took a right and headed in the direction of Anna’s office.

  “I’ll call you back,” he said hurriedly, ending the call abruptly and rushing after her. “Nonna!”

  For an old woman, she moved fast!

  “I’m looking for Anna Taylor,” she smoked at Anna’s mouse-haired secretary, Bernie.

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “Young lady, I’m far too old to make appointments. God knows if I’ll be alive to see them. Just tell her Nonna Mamione is here. I’ll wait.”

  Rocco came to a skidding halt next to his grandmother. “Nonna, what the hell?” he breathed in Italian.
<
br />   “Don’t be coy, I need to meet with my solicitor.”

  Anna opened her office door, wearing a sharp pinstriped blouse and flared grey skirt that hugged her graceful curves. “Can I help you?”

  “Yes, dear, I’ll need to sit down.” Edging past Anna, Nonna placed her wide bottom in a chair opposite Anna’s desk and set her handbag on her lap. “I’m sure you have other things do to, so let’s get this meeting started.”

  “What are you doing?” Anna demanded.

  Rocco’s eyes drifted to the angry line of her mouth. Time was he’d have been able to kiss that line into a smile. “Meet my grandmother. She’s my sensitive case.”

  “Bullshit!”

  “Young lady, I can hear you. I’m not deaf yet. Come in and close the door. You too, Rocky.”

  Anna strode to her desk. “Listen, Mrs. Mamione.”

  “Nonna.”

  “I’m not your grandchild, so that’s inappropriate.”

  “Everyone calls me Nonna or I don’t answer.”

  “Mrs. Mamione—”

  Nonna looked at Rocky. “She’s not very quick. Are you sure she can handle this?”

  “Nonna, be nice. Anna and I went to law school together. She got the highest grade in my class, in every single subject.”

  “Did she?” his grandmother replied, tapping her finger to her mouth. “Are you the girl who broke my Rocky’s heart?”

  Anna’s eyes went to him. “Are you kidding me? Are you actually serious with this?”

  “Stop it,” Rocco said softly, and surprisingly, both women shut up. “Anna, my grandmother has been unceremoniously sacked from a thirty-year role. Nonna, Anna is the best solicitor you could ever hope to deal with this. She will savage Enzo Vitale so badly, no one will do business with him again. Which is what you wanted, correct? Then whatever happened between myself and Anna is subject non mentionitis. Clear?”

  “I’m not doing it.”

  Nonna’s eyebrows rose to the top of her be-wigged head. “That reminds me. It’s good that women have a choice. Let me tell you. I was born into a Fascist regime. I was barely ten when I lost half my family to bombing in the war. The other half I lost to the Mafia. I didn’t marry the man I wanted to, I didn’t get to live where I wanted to, I didn’t even get to decide when I had my children. The only thing I ever had any control over was where I worked and what I did in that job. For thirty years that place beat right here.” Nonna thumped her fist against her chest. “Then that little prick ripped it from me and told me he wanted to make it into a wine bar. A wine bar. Who is still drinking wine?”

  “Me,” Rocco admitted.

  “Me,” Anna murmured.

  “Do either of you need another wine bar?”

  “No,” they said in unison.

  Nonna sighed and looked to Anna once more. “I’ll be honest with you, it’s not about the money, it’s about my dignity. Do you understand? You’re a woman. I know nothing’s come easy for you.”

  Rocco rubbed his grandmother’s shoulder with affection. She did rattle on a lot, but sometimes it was easy to forget just how much of a life the little woman had lived.

  “No,” Anna said eventually. “It hasn’t.”

  “And how would you feel if some prick of a man tried to take it away from you?”

  Anna’s gaze rested on Rocco. “I’d burn everything to the ground and salt the earth.”

  Annie, you’re fighting the wrong bloke. “I’d be careful about that. Casualties.”

  Nonna waved her arms, demanding attention. “Good. So you will help me.”

  It wasn’t a question. He could see Anna wavering. This was exactly the sort of case she’d campaigned about in law school. She hated injustice with a passion, and he knew that no matter how long she worked in the law, she would always be stirred by a cause. “She’s seventy-seven years old,” Rocco pressed. “Yes, maybe she should have retired, but the option wasn’t given to her. Enzo Vitale took away her choices because he thought he could bully an old woman.”

  “He’s such a little fetuso.”

  “Nonna,” Rocco groaned.

  “It’s true. One thing you will find about me, young lady, is that I am honest. Whatever time I have left on this earth, I will not waste it telling lies. Are you going to help me sue the michia parading around like the law doesn’t apply to him?”

  Anna looked down at her shoes. “I’m not cheap.”

  “I didn’t expect you to be.” Nonna removed her chequebook. “Will two thousand pounds be enough for a restraint?”

  “Retainer,” Anna and Rocco corrected.

  “Yes.” Anna looked surprisingly defeated. How could she possibly refuse a sweet old woman with a cheque book? She pressed a button on her phone. “Bernie? Can you bring in some new client forms, please?”

  “Of course.”

  “Now, don’t fob me off onto any little people,” Nonna demanded, handing over the cheque. “You are my solicitor. So when I call you, you will answer. If I get a letter from you, it’s signed by you.”

  “I’m a partner, Mrs. Mamione...”

  “My dear child, you and I will not have the solicitor client relationship we need to have unless you stop calling me Mrs. Mamione.”

  “Just because I’m your solicitor, does not mean you get to talk to me any way you like. It’s not going to wash with me.”

  “Are you pointing at me?”

  “You know what? Take your cheque back.”

  Rocco sat back and drew out his mobile, tapping out messages. They’d cut it out in a minute. Bernie brought in the forms while Anna and Nonna were going at each other. Nonna dissolved into Sicilian dialect until Anna said, “There are God knows how many solicitors in this country, just go and stick a pin in the Yellow Pages and hire whichever unlucky person that turns out to be!”

  Nonna laughed. “Just this little point and after that I will do everything you say.” She fitted on her glasses and filled out the forms with a deft hand.

  “I believe she’s made up her mind, Annie.”

  “You, shush.” She turned to Nonna. “All right, then. What evidence do you have, Mrs. Mamione?”

  Nonna beamed. “Very much. My payslips, all of my P60s, a letter of recommendation from the previous owners of the deli. And I know he’s trying to get an alcohol licence for the ‘wine bar.’ The previous owners also sent me copies of the purchase agreement and the terms of the sale of business which included goodwill, which was defined as my employment and my recipes.”

  “If you wanted to know where I got my brain from, it’s all Nonna’s side,” Rocco said, not looking up from his phone.

  “Look, you don’t have anything to do with this, so you can jog on. All right?”

  “I’m quite happy where I am.” Rocco grinned, making himself comfortable in his chair.

  “That reminds me, picciottu, are you coming to dinner tonight?”

  Anna gave a snort. “It’s Tuesday. No chance.”

  Nonna and Rocco both stared at her. Of course she remembered that—it had been the basis of their first and last fight. “Poker with the boys,” Nonna said slowly. “Yes. It is Tuesday indeed. Rocky, you can walk me out? Anna, you will contact me shortly, yes?”

  “I’ll wait until your cheque clears.” Anna flashed a fake smile. “Just to be on the safe side.”

  “I like you. But you understand, until my Rocky admits you didn’t break his heart, I have to not like you.”

  Anna’s gaze burned into his for a brief moment. “Your Rocky needs to tell you the whole truth, so help him God.”

  “My Rocky never lies to me,” Nonna declared with pride, getting to her feet.

  “Good for you,” Anna murmured. “Close the door on the way out, please?”

  Nonna headed to the door, and Rocco put his phone away. “One of these days, you and I really should talk.”

  “What about you sleeping with another girl do we need to talk about?” She breathed out harshly, tucking stray curls behind her ears. Ah. She w
as still on that outdated practice note, but at the very least, she’d given herself away.

  “All of it,” he insisted. “When you’re ready.”

  Nonna was on her mobile, glasses at the top of her salt-and-pepper head. Met her.

  And? Don’t keep us in suspense—is she good enough for Rocco?

  She’ll educate him thoroughly if he gets out of line. Trust me, she’s more than good enough.

  Chapter Four

  There was no honour in being the girlfriend who walked away from a cheating partner. All the reality TV shows that held it as some sort of medal of survivorship just proved to Anna that she needed to watch less TV and read more books. When it happened, she didn’t tell anyone. Not a single soul. Her mother didn’t count, but then her mother rather liked Rocco, so she needed to be informed just so she would shut up about him.

  Anna simply cut Rocco off. Blocked his number, refused to see him or speak to him. This was a stretch when they were both attending the same college. Why would she fight him and advertise how he’d humiliated her?

  People had the audacity to interfere in her pain, asking her what was wrong, what was going on, why wasn’t the star couple together any more, just before their exams hit. Once the first person was told promptly to mind their own fucking business, the whispers slowly faded away. Anyone who had a hint of anything different to the standard story—that Anna didn’t want to be in that damned relationship—did not deviate from the official line, or else risked a loss of life. Hell, when they all had to complete their elective examinations, no one had room to do anything but revise and pray they’d done enough to pass. Despite spending her days on automatic and her evenings in some sort of distress, Anna was one half percent away from full marks in every single examination and was given a congratulatory award by the college and featured on the Law Society Website.

  On a beach in Greece, Anna basked in the sunshine and her own bikinied allure to other holiday makers. As far as anyone else knew, she got over it. So what, she’d been some guy’s piece of fluff for a few (eight) months. Who cared? And he couldn’t keep it in his pants, what a surprise! She’d never expected much of men, not when she realised that her dad was picture perfect, and a complete one-off. In all honesty she could say to herself that it was bound to happen. Rocco Mamione, Mr. Strolling Through Life Like He Was In A Perfume Ad, was a cheater. Standard male issue.