A Very Marcello Christmas
Page 7
“Do you realize I have never been in your office before?”
Dante looked up at that statement. “No, I didn’t really think about it. I guess you haven’t been up this far. Usually, you’re waiting in the lobby if you drop by.”
Antony smiled. “Maybe I didn’t want to step on your toes, son.”
“Marcello Industries sold years ago, Papa. You couldn’t possibly step on my toes.”
“First, it’s now called Crevier Industries, and—”
“I know, I regularly go against them in bidding wars. I also regularly win. Stupid name for that company.”
Antony snorted. “I thought so, too, but in the contracts for the sale was that they were required to change the name.”
Dante leaned back in his chair. His attention was finally caught enough that he felt safe to let the work on his desk linger for a while without him. Besides, he had just learned something very interesting.
“You never told me that,” Dante said. “I just assumed they changed their name because they didn’t want to be associated with what the Marcello name means here in New York.”
“If anything, keeping the name might have given them an edge.”
“Well … true.”
“I didn’t want our name attached to a company we no longer had a hand in, son.”
Huh.
“And secondly,” Antony added before Dante could say something else, “by not wanting to step on your toes, I meant that I never wanted you to feel like imposing my presence here was intended to change how you did business as the CEO of this company, Dante.”
“I never would have felt like that.”
Antony shook a finger at him and smiled. “I think you would have, but now, we will never have to worry about it. See what I did there?”
Dante laughed, and went back to surveying the work on his desk. “So what brought you over to my side of town today, anyway?”
“Catrina, actually.”
“What, is she not doing what Ma wants her to do for that Christmas party, or something?”
“I assume Catrina is doing just fine. I think Cecelia even mentioned Catrina was handling the catering side of things, and whatnot.”
“She’s already cooked some stuff, too. Froze it so it would be good.”
And nearly broke Dante’s knuckles with a wooden spoon when he tried to steal some of the sweets. Fuck his life …
“No, I came here because she called about you, son,” Antony said.
Dante’s head popped right back up again. “I beg your pardon?”
“Your wife.”
“Yeah, I got that.”
Antony nodded. “She called about you.”
Dante tried all he could not to show the irritation suddenly boiling inside his bloodstream, and failed miserably. All his father did was raise an eyebrow while Dante grinded his fucking teeth.
“Oh she did, huh?”
“Technically, your mother,” Antony said, “but it was meant for me. Cecelia passed the information along. You’ve been in some kind of mood for quite a while. I think Catrina assumed it was passing the rest of us by, but we have all gotten a taste of your attitude over these past couple of months.”
His father waved a hand high in the air, adding, “According to your wife, it’s gotten progressively worse. You’re not handling … well, whatever it is that’s bothering you very well. Stress, I assume. Work, likely. Cosa Nostra. It all piles and piles and piles, doesn’t it? Before we realize what’s even happening, it’s already happened.”
Dante just kept grinding his teeth while his father talked. Mostly, he was pissed the fuck off that his wife thought it would be okay to go to his parents about the fact he was having issues. They kept their private business private for a reason.
This was one of those things.
“Dad, it’s not your concern,” Dante told him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some work to do, and I really need to get it done.”
“Could you say that with less bite in your tone?”
“Not at the moment.”
“You’re angry.”
“Wouldn’t you be in my situation?” Dante asked. “I handle my business just fine on my own. I do not need anyone else getting into it. I will be sure to pass that little message along to my wife when I get home. Apparently, she needs a reminder.”
“Or she cares about you and is concerned. Have you thought of taking a break?”
Dante scoffed.
Hard, loud, and rude.
He pushed away from his work and desk, sitting straight and staring his father head-on. Antony didn’t bat an eye at Dante’s anger resurfacing.
“A break, really? I have too much work between this fucking place and la famiglia to even consider taking a break. That’s before I even get into mentioning my wife and kids, or the time of year. Oh, and let’s not forget that I am still waiting on Gio to at least get me some good news on the Lucian front, so I know if he’s going to be out of jail before Christmas gets here.”
Antony brushed off invisible lint from his suit. “And what if I could provide all of that for you, son? Someone to handle famiglia business. Someone to be here. Your children. Lucian. All of it. What if it was all handled? Would you take a short break and get back to a place where you can recharge?”
“Well, then, you’d have to be fucking Santa Claus, Papa.”
Antony grinned.
It looked like a challenge.
“Ho, ho, ho, Dante.”
December 15th
Catrina barely got the big front doors to the Marcello mansion opened before her kids pushed in front of her to dart inside their grandparents’ home. They almost knocked her right off her feet in their rush. Their laughter lit up the halls and echoed back. Cecelia was likely cooking something sweet because the scent of confection sugar clung heavily in the air.
“Grandpapa!” Michel shouted, heading for the stairs.
“Grandmamma, I’m here!” Catherine called, following a different path than her brother toward the kitchen.
Neither one of the two kids had even thought to take off their jackets, mitts and hat, or their snowy boots. They didn’t even look back at their mother who struggled with a small duffle bag for each of them.
Catrina didn’t really mind, though. She knew the two were excited to spend a few days with their grandparents. Plus, she might have mentioned that a little time away would do their daddy wonders. Not time away from them, per say, just … time.
The two seemed to understand.
Catrina set the duffle bags down on the floor in the great hall with a huff. She didn’t bother to remove her own jacket or boots because she wouldn’t be staying long. She was just here to drop off the kids, and move onto the next thing on her list.
Then, Dante …
Shortly after, Cecelia came out of a connecting hallway with a smile on her face. Catherine was right on her grandmother’s heels.
“Is that everything?” Cecelia asked, gesturing at the bags.
“Enough for a few days.”
“They have proper clothes for the Christmas party, right?”
“I have the prettiest dress, Grandmamma,” Catherine butted in. “It’s red and white, like Ma’s.”
Catrina bent down to stroke her mini-me’s cheek with her palm. “It is just like Ma’s. I love you, reginella. You be good for your grandmother. I don’t want to hear about you fighting with your brother or causing problems. Understand?”
Catherine nodded. “I won’t, Ma.”
She said that, but …
The two siblings fought like cats and dogs sometimes. Cecelia said it was normal. All siblings battled like that. Catrina hoped it was the case, and would wane as her kids got older.
Besides, even if the two did get into some kind of spat, Cecelia wouldn’t say a thing to Catrina or Dante. She would handle it all on her own like she always did with the kids. It was just the woman’s way.
“Come here,” Catrina said, pulling Catherine close
. She hugged her daughter, and kissed Catherine’s forehead and little puckered lips. “Love you, my girl.”
“Love you, Ma.”
Standing, Catrina faced her mother-in-law. “Call me if you need something, or if they get to be too much.”
Cecelia scoffed. “Please, Catrina. I raised three boys who were far rowdier than your two. This is nothing.”
Mmhmm.
Catrina had no doubt.
“Everything for the party on your end is taken care of, right?” Cecelia asked.
She could tell her mother-in-law was concerned about the party details, but wasn’t willing to put her hands into the pot. It was her guarantee for that year, after all.
“You don’t need to worry, Cecelia. It is all taken care of. I am going from here to sign off on the final catering details for the last bit of dishes. I talked to Jordyn and Kim. They assured me that they are more than fine with handling the rest of the decorating without me. It’s all going to be fantastic.”
Cecelia smiled. “I have all the faith, Cat.”
Catrina raised a brow. “All the faith?”
“Most of it.”
Yeah.
She thought so.
• • •
Catrina stood on the front steps of Empire Developments. Snow fell down in heavy flakes as she stared up the length of the tall building to the floor where she knew her husband’s office was situated. She had called Dante thirty minutes ago, and was now just about done waiting.
He did not want her going in there to get him.
Guaranteed.
Glancing over her shoulder, Catrina found the car waiting to take her and Dante away for the next few days. The driver—one of her husband’s enforcers—looked as though he really wished he could get back inside the car and warm up.
Catrina turned back to the building only to see Dante finally exiting the front doors. He walked the thirty feet to greet her, and dropped a kiss on her cheek.
“A little early to be leaving work, isn’t it?” he asked.
Catrina nodded. “For you, yes.”
“Then what’s this all about, bella donna?”
Beautiful woman.
Catrina smiled. “It’s time for that break, Dante.”
Her husband cocked an eyebrow. “Pardon?”
“A break. You need one. Someone helped to set this up, and make sure everything you needed covered would be handled for the next few days.”
Dante eyed the waiting car. He had been so incredibly pissed at his wife for going to his parents that their silent feud over it lasted for a couple of days. While he thought the whole thing was over, and his wife forgot about the break thing, clearly she had not.
“How many days, Catrina?”
“Until the twentieth.”
“The Christmas party.”
She nodded.
“Technically,” Catrina added, “that is when we’re going to pick up the kids, and attend the party. However …”
Dante wet his lips with his tongue, and kept a sharp eye on his wife. “Keep going, Cat.”
“You will not be returning to work until after the New Year.”
“You know I can’t do that. I have—”
Catrina waved at the car and interjected with, “Get in the vehicle, Dante.”
“Catrina.”
Again, she waved at the car.
Dante didn’t move.
Neither did she.
“Cat, I can’t just … go off for a while.”
“You can and you will, Dante. This is not the time for arguments. You need a break. You need to stop and enjoy just being for a while. I have made this happen. The car is waiting. We are burning gas for nothing. Your enforcer would greatly like to warm up as you made us wait thirty unnecessary minutes while you probably yelled at someone over the phone up there.”
“I did—”
Catrina’s gaze narrowed.
Dante cleared his throat. “Okay, so maybe I was busy doing something of that nature. But I was working, Catrina. You know, doing my goddamn job.”
“A job that is killing you lately, Dante.”
“It’s more than just this place. It’s Cosa Nostra. It’s missing out on my kids’ Christmas things. It’s not even getting to enjoy the first snowfall of the year.”
“I know. And so we have done something to help with that, if you would only shut your mouth and get in that car.”
Dante eyed the car again. “My apologies, amore.”
“Get in the car, bello.”
He did.
Without further argument.
December 18th
“I don’t think you’ve ever looked as handsome as you do right now,” Catrina said.
Dante glanced away from the Waldorf Astoria’s window to see his wife standing in the entryway connecting the bedroom with the sitting room.
The very beautiful hotel room might as well have been a small apartment, considering the size. Every inch of the space dripped with expensive taste and an old money feel. Hardwood floors and priceless rugs. Antique furniture pieces and tasteful artwork. A whole wet bar full of top shelf liquor.
His kind of place.
Catrina had picked well.
“Handsome?” he asked.
Catrina leaned her hip against the doorjamb, and watched him through lowered lashes. All these years, and it only took a single look from his wife to get his heartrate picking up, and his blood heated. God, he loved her for that, too.
“That’s what I said,” Catrina replied.
Dante wasn’t doing shit but lounging on a chaise and overlooking the busy Manhattan street outside. He wasn’t even fully dressed as he hadn’t bothered to finishing buttoning up the silk dress shirt he slid on earlier, or knot his tie.
“If you say so, amore.”
Catrina flashed him a grin, and made her way across the room to him. His hand pressed into the curve of her back, and pushed her even closer so that he could rest his cheek against her thigh. She dragged long nails through his short hair, letting her fingers run over his scalp in the best fucking way.
“Ready to get back to life in a couple of days?” Catrina asked.
“Now I am, yes.”
“I knew you would come around to this.”
Dante grinned, and kissed her naked thigh. Like him, she hadn’t fully gotten dressed either after their escapade earlier that day. She was still wearing the peach-colored silk robe that only fell to her mid-thigh. The belt cinched at the waist showed off her hourglass figure perfectly.
“It’s a nice sight from up here, isn’t it?” Catrina asked.
He peered back out the window.
White blanketed the streets and sidewalks in heavy sheets. Red and gold Christmas decorations hung from lampposts and overtop windows. The fast walking people were bundled up, and seemingly unbothered by the white flakes falling down from the gray-blue sky.
“They’re all just … rushing,” Dante said.
Catrina bent down and kissed him with one of her sly smiles. “And you’re not.”
“Apparently.”
For the first day or so, it bugged the hell out of Dante. He wanted nothing more than to call and check up on people. Giovanni, his father, and a Capo that he had been having issues with over the last few weeks.
Plus, his business. He had left an entire contract just hanging in the fucking wind when he got inside that damn car. There was so much he had left undone, and yeah, that had pricked at every single one of his nerves.
Then, there was also his kids. He missed them like crazy, too.
Although, Catrina FaceTimed Michel and Catherine twice a day. It was the only time she allowed Dante to have a phone in his hands.
His wife was a fucking tyrant.
A beautiful one, but still.
Catrina, however, had taken his phone the very second he sat his ass down in the town car. She told him the details about where they would be staying, and a few other things she had planned for the five days they would
be unreachable.
Dante walked into the hotel room to find the phone on the nightstand only connected to the kitchen, and the front desk. Catrina had been smart enough to know she needed to make sure that little detail was taken care of, too.
He had to give his wife credit, though. This was exactly what he needed, no questions asked. Time away. Space from people and life. A barrier between him and business. A few days to simply take care of his wants and needs, instead of handling every other aspect of his life except for himself.
That anger and irritation that had been constantly building inside his mind and heart for weeks was now nonexistent. The bit of time to clear his head had actually given him different outlooks on how problems could be fixed with less arguments, and on a faster timeline.
He greatly wanted to get back to his kids, as well. He wanted to enjoy the rest of the time he was going to have with them over the holidays to make memories he might have not done otherwise.
Dante needed time to stop, breathe, and recharge.
Nothing more.
His wife had given him that, or rather … helped to make it possible for him. He was so grateful. More than Catrina could possibly know.
This was the best Christmas gift ever.
A gift he hadn’t even known he needed.
“I have something for you,” Catrina said.
Dante stared up at his wife. “Oh?”
“Yep. Here.”
She handed over an envelope. It wasn’t properly sealed, so Dante just pulled out what looked to be a letter. Unfolding the two flaps, he instantly recognized the handwriting of his father.
Dante,
Even the best bosses occasionally need to take a break, son. Even those men who live and breathe this life have to take time to remember what it was about this thing of ours that made us hand over everything for it in the first place.
Next time, recognize your need.
And take care of it.
I thought you might like to know a few things. I’m sure—even though Catrina has told me you’re enjoying your little time away—that you still have some things on your mind. They were weighing on mine, too.
The company won the bid. I sat in on it. Give your COO a raise. He deserves it. Thank him with something worth his while, Dante. Also, try to give him a little more leeway for this sort of thing. He’s proved he can handle it.