Marco took the stairs to the third floor and paused in front of his brother’s door. The sign on the wall read TONY ADAMO, CEO. It was a strange sight.
Marco knocked, then took a few steps back, blowing out a breath. He relaxed his hands, realizing he had them balled into fists. Ridiculous. This was his brother, the guy he used to engage in epic spitball wars. There was no reason to be nervous.
“Come in!” came a slightly annoyed-sounding command.
Marco swung the door open. Tony sat at his desk, focusing on a computer screen. It took a few moments for him to look up and see Marco.
He blinked, the only sign he was surprised to see his brother. Then he stood. “Welcome home, bro.”
Tony walked around the desk and Marco stepped farther into the room to meet him. Tony pulled him into a hug. “I’m glad you’re home in one piece,” he said, his normally controlled voice breaking a little.
Tony’s word choice—though innocent—was a shot to the gut. Marco almost wished he weren’t in one piece. Although, the fact that he was whole would never make up for the fact that his old friend Ryan wasn’t.
He pushed the past out of his mind, choosing to focus on the present—seeing his brother after almost four years.
“Thanks.” A huge chunk of weight fell off Marco’s shoulders. He hadn’t known what kind of reception to expect.
He should have known better. His brother was a good man.
“I hear congrats are in order,” Marco said. Though he hadn’t been the best about keeping in touch with his family, his mother faithfully emailed him every week whether he replied or not.
Tony had popped the question to Ginny after they’d only been dating a little more than a month, which was mildly surprising since years ago, Tony had been engaged to her older sister. Marco had always like Ginny better, anyway. Something had always seemed a little off about Veronica, and he hadn’t been surprised to hear she was wanted for the murder of her ex-husband.
“Thanks. Have you been home to see Mom yet?” Tony returned to his chair behind the desk and Marco sat across from him.
“No. How is she?”
“The same. She still won’t talk about it.”
“And Nonna?”
Tony sighed. “She’s slowing down. Losing Nonno hit her hard and now Dad . . . I think this might do her in.”
“Fuck.”
“You got that right.”
The intercom buzzed. “Mr. Adamo? The lawyers are here to see you.”
“Again?” Tony pounded his fist on the desk. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Yes, sir.”
Tony scowled. “Those fucking lawyers. When are they going to realize I have no interest in helping Dad’s case?”
Marco didn’t know what to say. It was a shitty situation all the way around. Neither one of them had any lost love for their father, but it had to be tough to be instrumental in sending him away to prison.
“I’m sorry, man,” Marco said, knowing it was insufficient.
Tony sighed. “It’s not your fault.”
No, not directly. But he should have been the one dealing with it. Not his little brother.
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“I will. I’m sure there’s . . . something. Everything is still so fucked up around here. Get settled in first. Are you staying at Mom’s?”
“Not sure.”
“You can stay with me if you want.”
“I don’t want to crowd you and Ginny.”
“It’s no trouble, but suit yourself.” Tony stood, buttoning his suit jacket. “I have to deal with these lawyers.”
“No problem. I’ll see myself out.”
Marco remained in the office after Tony left.
Damn. What a shit show.
He scrubbed his hands over his face, wondering if his presence simply complicated matters. Maybe it would have been better if he’d stayed away. Too late for that now.
Besides, his family wasn’t the only reason he’d come back. He had amends that should have been made years ago, but he’d been too much of a coward to face Ryan. Too much of a coward to face his guilt.
He went back downstairs and slipped out a side door. He had a couple hours to kill before he needed to meet Kat. He’d stop at an auto parts store on the way to his parents’ house. Though his father wasn’t the type to get his hands dirty—well, literally anyway—their garage was fully outfitted. He should be able to find the tools he needed.
It a bit surreal driving down streets that were both familiar and foreign to him. When he took a closer look, he realized not much had changed. But he had. It’d been nearly four years since he’d been home.
Home . . . he wasn’t sure if that’s what it was anymore. His enlistment term was up and he hadn’t decided if he wanted to re-up. He’d never intended to become a soldier and while he was good at it, he wasn’t sure he wanted to continue. Right now though, he didn’t have any other prospects. He had a lot of thinking ahead of him.
* * *
When Marco’s mother opened the door, the first thing he noticed was the hollowness in her eyes. The next thing was the obviously fake smile she had plastered on her face. When she realized it was her oldest son at the door, the smile turned genuine and she pulled him in for an embrace.
Though her arms around him were strong, she somehow seemed frail, like she’d aged four decades in the span of the four years since he’d moved away. Having her husband indicted by a grand jury probably contributed to that.
He’d never wanted to punch his father in the face more.
Tony had kept him abreast of the goings-on through email, though they’d become infrequent in the last year. His emails from his mother were more regular, but he’d often had to read between the lines of those. Tony was usually more blunt—his father was still the bastard he had always been.
But that was nothing new. Still, his father’s criminal activities had blindsided everyone, most of all Tony, who’d had the misfortune of discovering them and helping to provide evidence.
Of course given both brothers’ feelings toward their father, that might not have been as unfortunate as it could have been. It was somewhat gratifying to see the old man get taken down a peg. Too bad it had to happen at the expense of the family.
“Marco! You didn’t tell me you were coming,” his mother said as she released him.
The edges of his lips turned up in a wan smile. “Surprise.”
The genuine smile and joy on his mother’s face made him glad he hadn’t finalized his plans in time to forewarn her of his visit. Besides that, he wanted to see the real state of things. If she’d known he was coming, she might have tried to hide how bad off she was.
She ushered him into the house, closing the door firmly behind him. He couldn’t help but notice she peeked out the window as she did so and all of the blinds in the front of the house were drawn. Had someone been harassing her? Perhaps a reporter trying to get a picture for a story? The patriarch of the Adamo family being on trial for narcotics production and distribution had to be big news. His gut burned at the thought of people bothering his mother. The poor woman had enough to deal with.
He should have been here. Dammit. His life belonged to the army, so that was impossible, but the guilt overwhelmed him just the same.
Still, he was here now.
“I wish you would have called,” his mother said. “I let the housekeeper go, so the house is a mess.”
He glanced around the front room. Not a thing was out of place and every surface appeared clean enough to eat off of. It looked like his mother was drowning her sorrows in housework. She always had been domestically inclined when he was growing up. It was only since her children were grown and she started traveling that his parents had employed a housekeeper. But that was for his father’s benefit, not hers.
“It’s fine, Mom,” Marco assured her. “It can’t be any worse than when you had two teenage boys living here.”
She laug
hed and for a moment, her eyes appeared lively before becoming dull again. “Are you hungry?” she asked. “Can I make you something?”
“That would be great.” He followed her into the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter. She pulled lunch meat and cheese out of the refrigerator, along with lettuce, tomato, and onion. An air of contentedness surrounded her. She always did enjoy taking care of her sons. His mouth watered as she expertly pieced together his sub.
She pulled a jar of pickles out of the refrigerator and tried to open it, wincing at the effort. Marco held out his hand for the jar, but she shook her head.
“No, I’ve got it.”
He watched in amazement as she struggled with the jar. It didn’t budge even after she banged it on the counter and used a rubber gripper.
“Mom, let me—”
“No!”
Marco was taken aback by the uncharacteristic outburst.
“I can do this,” she said, her voice under control again.
It seemed Kat wasn’t the only stubborn woman he’d encountered today. He didn’t know Kat well enough to understand her reasoning for initially declining his help, but his mother’s actions surprised him. She’d never taken issue with accepting assistance before.
It was like the jar represented her life that had recently spiraled out of control. If she could get a grip on the jar, then maybe she could get a grip on life.
She wrestled with it again, her face turning red from exertion. Finally, it opened.
“There,” she said with a smile, pulling out a pickle and placing it on his plate next to the sub.
Marco didn’t comment, his heart silently breaking. This was his father’s doing. But if he knew his mother, she would bounce back. Eventually. He just hated seeing his normally strong mother like this.
“I stopped by and saw Tony,” he said instead.
“Oh? He works too much, but ever since . . .” She stopped and cleared her throat, tapping her fingers on the counter. He realized she’d stopped talking because she was dangerously close to discussing her husband.
Tony’s last email was right—she was in total avoidance mode.
“He was busy,” Marco said vaguely, not explaining that what made him so busy were the lawyers questioning him about their father. “So I didn’t stay long. I was hoping to visit Nonna today as well.”
“She’s here.”
“What?”
“She moved in a couple days ago. We thought it best if she didn’t live alone anymore.”
Marco read between the lines of what she didn’t say—Nonna’s health was failing. She’d always been a strong woman who valued her independence. He wondered what it must have taken for her to give up living on her own.
“Where is she?”
“Resting in her room. She naps this time of day.”
The sound of the front door opening was followed by a soft call of “Knock, knock!”
His mother smiled. “That’s Ginny. She stops by most afternoons.”
Moments later, Ginny appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. Her eyes widened with surprise when she saw him.
“Marco!” She rushed over and he stood to accept her hug. “It’s so good to see you! Tony didn’t tell me you were coming.”
Marco separated from Ginny, standing back to get a look at her. She was exactly how he remembered. Same bright smile, same kind eyes, same beautiful face. His brother was a lucky man.
“He didn’t know. My visit was a surprise.”
“He’ll be so happy to see you.”
Marco picked up Ginny’s left hand to admire her ring. “This is stunning. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” She beamed, making him glad he’d thought to make the gesture. “We haven’t set a date yet since everything is so crazy.”
Marco nodded and Ginny turned to his mother. “How’s Nonna?”
“Resting,” his mother repeated. “But better today. I think she’s starting to adjust to being here.”
“That’s good.” Ginny shot an apologetic look at Marco before speaking again. “Theresa, I took the liberty of making you an appointment at the spa for a massage. You have thirty minutes to get there.”
“What?” His mother’s hand went to her throat, grasping at her shirt. “You’ll have to cancel it. I can’t go.”
“Theresa,” Ginny said gently. “You need to get out. I understand you don’t want to see anyone, which is why I only scheduled a massage instead of the full works. You’re stressed and it’s starting to take its toll on you physically.”
“But Marco is here now, so—”
“Go,” Marco said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere for a little while. It will do you good. When was the last time you went out?”
She clamped her mouth shut, refusing to meet his gaze. “But Nonna shouldn’t—”
“That’s why I’m here,” Ginny said. “I’ll stay so Nonna won’t be alone.”
His mother looked back and forth between the two of them, her shoulders slumping when she realized they formed a united front. “Fine.” She sighed. “I’ll get my purse.”
Marco leaned in to kiss his mother on the cheek. “Enjoy yourself. Relax.”
He finished his sandwich while Ginny ushered his mother out the door. Then Ginny returned and sat on the stool beside him.
“Sorry,” she said. “If I had known you’d be here, I wouldn’t have scheduled that for today. But she needed it. You know, it’s probably good you were here. I don’t know if I would have been able to convince her to go myself. I was hoping throwing it at her at the last minute would catch her off guard.”
“She’s become a shut-in?” Marco had deduced as much from what Ginny said earlier, but he wanted it confirmed. When Ginny nodded, he sighed. His mother was the get-up-and-go type, but it seemed she’d lost that.
“The only place she ever went was Nonna’s house. But now that Nonna has moved in, she’s totally closeted herself off. She even has her groceries delivered.”
“Damn,” Marco muttered. “Have people been rude to her?”
Ginny shrugged. “Not to her face. You know how people are, though. She’s not stupid. She can read between the lines.”
“Tony didn’t tell me any of this.”
“He’s got his hands full and I think he figured you did, too. What are you doing home, anyway? I thought you were deployed.”
“I was, but the tour ended early.”
“Well, that’s one good thing, at least.”
“I don’t know how much help I’ll be.” Marco rubbed his neck.
Ginny inclined his head in her direction. “Your presence is enough. When she smiled at you, that was the first genuine smile I’d seen on her face in a month.”
Chapter 3
“Oh, no,” Kat whispered, her blood running cold. “Shit, shit, shit.”
The file was there on her desktop a minute ago and now it was just . . . gone. Had she somehow managed to delete it? She started opening folders, cursing her own ineptness. She wasn’t an idiot, but the database system Adamo Enterprises used was new to her. Her computer expertise had peaked in high school with basic word processing. Once she graduated, she didn’t have much need for computers. College hadn’t been in the cards for her and tending bar didn’t require those skills.
She opened the trash folder, but no luck. Then she remember Ingrid had explained that the database operated as a separate entity from Windows.
“Okay,” she said to herself, taking a deep breath. If worse came to worst, she could pull the handwritten notes out of the recycle bin and retype the report, but she’s already spent over an hour on it. She hated to spend even more time.
Ingrid had said to call her if she had any questions, but Kat felt like all she’d done all week was call the older woman. At some point very soon she’d need to stand on her own two feet or she wouldn’t be able to keep this job.
“Where did she say the files went?” she muttered, drumming her fingers on her desk.
“Is eve
rything okay?”
Kat had been so focused on her computer screen that she hadn’t even noticed Ingrid approach.
She sighed. “I think I might have accidentally deleted the notes I just typed up from the prototype meeting.”
Ingrid came around to stand behind her. “Hmm . . . let’s see. Nope. I bet it’s right there. In the drafts folder.”
Sure enough, there was a little number one in parenthesis next to the draft folder. She clicked it and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God. I thought I’d just lost an hour’s worth of work.”
“It’s an easy mistake to make. The system is really weird that way. Until you finalize the file, even if you save it, it ends up in the draft folder.” Ingrid shrugged. “When we first got the system, I asked the developers about it, thinking it was a glitch, but no. It makes no sense.”
“You can say that again.”
“Once things settle down around here, I’m going to approach Tony about updating the software. There are a lot of changes I want to implement, but now is obviously not the time. Other than the missing file,” Ingrid said with a smile, “how have things been going today?”
Ingrid had recently been promoted to the position of COO when Tony’s father was arrested and Kat had taken over her former position as administrative assistant to Tony. The other woman had been with the company for decades and knew it inside and out. Kat didn’t know how she’d ever perform as well as Ingrid.
“Okay, I guess.” Kat looked down at her lap and fidgeted.
Ingrid put a hand on her shoulder. “Relax. You’re doing a good job.”
“I just don’t want Tony to regret hiring me.”
“I don’t think he will.”
Not if Kat had anything to do with it. The money and benefits were so much better with this job. It paid enough that she didn’t have to pull double shifts to make ends meet. And it would allow her to spend more time with her brother, the only family she had.
Well, that wasn’t exactly true. But he was the only family worth her time.
“Besides,” Ingrid said, “you’re just what Tony needs right now. Even if you don’t perform perfectly, he trusts you. He needs to be surrounded by people he can count on now more than ever.”
Trust In Me: A Fight for Me Novel Page 2
