by Ethan Egorov
And I’m ready to stand in the sun.
ROBIN
Just for one night, we wanted each other, and that was supposed to be it.
When Emily showed up at my club, I was already thinking of all the things I could do to her.
Relationships aren’t my thing,
commitment— But she changed all of that.
I had to do whatever it took to keep her,
even when I had more secrets than she bargained for.
Emily changed me, took away my pain, and understood my heart.
Even though we started off as complete strangers, who only bargained for one night.
OWL
I have wanted her for years, and I never thought I would have her.
Amy Clemens has been the secret light in my life since I laid eyes on her.
I watch her every move, she lives in my dreams.
But she off limits.
Not because I am dark, hardened by my life,
but because her brother is my best friend and club brother.
I can't have her, no matter how much I want her.
Until one night she gets too drunk and I have to take care of her,
and all the risks just fade away.
I need her. I want her. I take her.
And I don’t plan on letting her go.
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Never Truthful
Chapter 1
The waiter carried a large tray out to the table and set it directly in the middle. Pulling off the lid he revealed a steaming plate of spaghetti and meatballs, the house specialty to a large group of businessmen. At the head of the table an elderly man sat dressed in a black suit with a crisp collared white shirt and black tie. He face was marked with the passage of time and it looked as if it were going to shatter into a million pieces when he smiled broadly, “Well now! Look at that! That’s what I’m talking about boys! You don’t get this kind of hand-crafted quality in other parts of the country. This is why I’ve always loved coming to Pennini’s even as a young man.” The waiter didn’t crack a smile, he kept a cool, professional countenance as he began serving salads and heaping plates of the pasta. He then refilled all of the wine glasses at the table before going to the kitchen and returning with a basket of garlic bread sticks. “I have to say we have much to celebrate, I’m so glad just to be able to share a meal with my family. It’s not been easy, but we have come together as a family once again to stop all of our enemies and our legacy is thriving. Just so you know, we have completely overtaken the East side. There’s not one business there that doesn’t pay our special tax if you know what I mean. You boys have been very successful this year. Let us enjoy this moment and celebrate my grandson’s birthday!”
“Thanks poppop. I’m glad I’m here to celebrate with my favorite people. It’s been a long year but a good one.”
“I think you should say grace and we should go ahead and eat before Pennini’s spaghetti gets cold. I’d hate for him to think we’re insulting him.”
“Yeah no one wants to tangle with old man Pennini. I think he could best any one of us in a hand-to-hand fight.” The young man ran his hands through his dark brown hair and bowed his head. He closed his eyes and recited a prayer for grace, something that he’d been accustomed to doing since childhood. "Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen." He lifted his head and they all applauded as they passed around the bread and began taking long sips from their wine glasses chatting excitedly amongst each other. As he took a bit of his spaghetti, his father looked at him and smiled. “So son, you’re another year older, what do you think you’ll do this year?”
“I don’t know, pop. I guess I’ll focus on helping run the businesses. I really don’t have many other plans. I think it would be nice though, to go see a Red Sox game at some point. You know I don’t get out to the ball field much anymore.”
“Hmm. You know what I think.”
“Oh geez, not again, pop.”
“What? I’m your father… I’m concerned that you’re not getting out enough.”
“Pop, I get out plenty. Just because you want some grandkids to spoil doesn’t mean that I’m just going to settle for anything, ya know. I’ve got standards.”
“Standards lead to loneliness sometimes, son. You best remember that. No son of mine is going to be labelled a social pariah because he spends too much time counting his money alone at home. It’s not going to kill you to go out and have a few drinks with some ladies every now and then Trenton.”
“Trenton… so formal. You haven’t called me that since I was a kid, pop.”
“Well… this is serious business, Trent. You’re not getting any younger, now are you?”
“Yeah…you’re right, but can we just have a single meal in peace. Geez.”
“Fine, fine, have it your way, but I’m going to be on the lookout so that you can find a nice girl.”
The young man slipped his father a sly smile before taking another bite of his meal and continuing. “Just send them my way pop and we’ll see which ones I don’t run off.”
“Oh I will… and it won’t kill ya to take them someone nice, you hear me?!”
“Yes, pop.”
Trent hung his head and finished his meal in relative silence. He somehow felt much older than the number of years he had on him. Since being under the pressures he felt as a mob bosses’ son, he really hadn’t made much of an effort to have a personal life. He didn’t feel that he had met anyone who would not only understand his lifestyle, but also he hadn’t met someone who he could trust wouldn’t be with him just for his money. Sure he wanted something simple, but at the same time he had an empire to run, after all his other brothers had their own obligations and had already made it clear that they didn’t want any of their father’s estate once he passed away. That left him as being the only heir to a substantial fortune. The drug trade was booming in their part of the country, the poor economy and last of employment actually played into their favor. People were looking for an escape and they made a particular refined powder which made a person feel like they were on top for once. That’s for as long as the high lasted, that is.
“So Trent are we going to have cake or what?”
“Well I’d hope so. Hey pop how about we order a couple cherry cheesecakes and split em’ you know that Pennini makes the best.”
“If that’s what the birthday boy wants, then that’s what he shall receive. It’s your day, Trent you celebrate it any way you want to.”
They called the waiter over and placed their dessert order and continued to drink. “So pop pop, how’s things going with you and your new wife?”
“Eh…she’s no Lucia, but I’ll have to admit she keeps me on my toes. I honestly didn’t think I’d remarry but there’s something about having a woman that keeps a man honest. I guess it’s true what they say, nothing keeps the ticker going like the scent of a beautiful woman on your pillow.”
“Hah! No one says that pop pop, just you.”
“Oh. Well then you feel free to use that whenever you want, Trent.”
Trent looked down at his wine glass which he’d inadvertently emptied again. He found himself suddenly wanting to smoke which the waiter refilled his glass. “Can you fellas excuse me? I’m going to go outside and have a smoke, while we wait on dessert.”
“Sure, sure you go on son. We’ll be here holding the table down. Hey while you’re out there, see if you can drum up some business for old man Pennini. It’s dead in here for a Friday night, that can’t be good for his books.”
“I’m sure if he’s in trouble he’d tell up pop pop. After all, everyone knows if you’re in any kind of trouble, you come to us and we can get you out of any jam.”
“Well…I’m going to make it a point to ask him before we leave. This place...it’s got some sentiment to me, so we’ll save it if need be.”
“I know you will pop pop. You always find a wa
y somehow. Now, excuse me, I’ll be back.”
Trent walked outside and took a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket. He stood in front of the restaurant’s double doors underneath the soft glow of the neon lights from the sign. The restaurant was no stranger to their family celebrations. He remembered that even as a youngster holidays and special occasions would be celebrated here with tables full of the best Italian food in the city. Despite what many people perceived his clan had a strong concept of family and their bloodline was strong. He lit the cigarette and placed it to his full lips. He was in good shape and considered by many to be an attractive man, more attractive than the rest of his brood, but he’d yet to find any success with the opposite sex. He did have a serious girlfriend at one point, but she grew tired of his nights away when he would be doing some shady business for his father or his pop pop and soon they broke up. She had found another man to be underneath her both literally and figuratively. He was heartbroken when he came home with flowers for her one evening to find her at her apartment with someone she met at the gym. Had he been a teenager he would have certainly lost his temper and taught the man a lesson about messing with another man’s girl. He had, however, settled some in his age, so he only hung his head and dropped the bouquet of spring flowers on her entryway floor and walked away despite her pleas and apologies.
As he finished his cigarette he looked out across the city skyline and smiled. What he needed was a woman who understood what it entailed to be in the family he was in, and he also needed someone to encourage his true passions. Of course, he loved baseball like every red-blooded Bostonian did, but he also needed someone who appreciated his other interests. He was an avid guitar player and could be heard some nights playing the blues in his apartment when he was too fitful to sleep. Trent was also passionate about keeping fit and worked out daily, he had begun to study martial arts as well at a young age in an effort to keep up with his brothers in the many brawls they had encountered or even began. Needless to say he was a tough guy and when angered or goaded into a match knew how to hurt a man in different ways. He could choke someone out just as easily as he could break their jaw with one punch. He was now the muscle of the clan and would rather have it that way.
He walked back into Pennini’s to see that the waiter had brought their dessert. The old man had even found it in his heart to send out a special red velvet cupcake with a candle in it for his birthday. This brought a smile to Trent’s face as he sat back down. There was a rousing chorus of “Happy Birthday,” led by his pop pop and they all clapped and shouted in unison. This is what family was all about. They then passed the cheesecakes around and all of his brothers shared in his own joy each commenting on how it was the perfect recipe and hard to emulate at any home kitchen. As they were just beginning their dessert the waiter interrupted them, handing an envelope to Trent’s father.
The room suddenly grew quite as his father’s face turned sullen when he frowned. “Where did you get this? Who’s this from?”
“I don’t know sir, the host just brought it to me to have delivered to your table. I apologize if it’s bad news.”
“Kid, you don’t know the half of it. Hey do me a favor and go tell old man Pennini to come out here for a minute I wanna personally thank him for tonight.”
“Certainly, sir.”
“Pop, what is it?”
“Well boys, it seems that our competitors have taken this special occasion to taunt us once again, but we won’t let this ruin our evening. We’ve dealt with far worse.” Trent narrowed his eyes and worked his jaw muscles. It angered him to see his father in such despair. “No, pop me and the boys’ we will handle it, what happened?”
“It seems as if there was a fire at one of our businesses by the docks. I can assure you though, it wasn’t accidental. There was a special note left just for us, informing us of this unpleasantness.”
The old man at the head of the table coughed a couple times then cleared his throat. “Such a pity. I’m growing tiresome of these scuffles. I’m an old man now and just want to retire in peace.” Trent took a deep breath, suddenly saddened at his grandfather’s statement. “I don’t understand pop pop. Why do they just keep on insisting on this feud? I mean, I know business is business but enough. There’s plenty of city for both of our families to find success.”
“Yes. There certainly is, Trent. I hate to say it, but a lot of this bad blood well… some of it involves you.”
“What do you mean, pop pop?”
“The Mikkelsons’ have always been a fierce competitor with us. Every time we would get a building down by the dock, they’d do the same. Every time we’d score with a new shipment of powder, they’d go out of their way to find a new shipment of their own. Now keep in mind Trenton, there’s two sides to every story, but I’ll tell you all the story the way my father told it to me, and how I told it to your father.”
“I think this calls for a drink. Hey waiter! Hey yeah… sorry to bother ya again. Can we get a bottle of your finest Johnny Walker scotch, and none of that weak shit, make it the ghost label. Just serve us all at the table.” The waiter returned a few minutes later with the expensive bottle and opened it in front of his patrons. He took his time pouring the amber colored liquid into chilled glasses with small ice cubes floating near the bottom. Trent stared at the liquid as it bubbled and the ice began to bob in his glass. It looked like liquid gold and he smiled to himself. This was his legacy. His family legacy was filled with the finest things. He had at his disposal a fleet of luxury cars to choose from. He could stay in many houses from their family mansion on the outskirts of the city to a remote camp they all shared in the wilderness which had a pristine view of the lake. He took a sip of the drink, letting its luxurious bitterness roll over his tongue and slide down his throat. It burned when it hit his stomach but just like any antiseptic seemed to cleanse and heal an unseen wound. This was his family’s legacy, but he chose to live simply himself. He had money in the bank and worked hard managing his legit business during the day. At night he chose to live in a rented one bedroom apartment fairly close to the family home, he went grocery shopping every week and made it a practice to keep his own place tidy without the help of a cleaning lady. He was a simple man of vast means.
His grandfather looked at him and sighed. He took a long drink and scotch and nodded at the waiter with approval before the waiter walked off. “Ya see Trent, back when the town was first growing up everyone wanted a piece of the pie and following prohibition, the most successful bootleggers needed something to one up the danger of illicit alcohol once it was made legal again. Your ancestors well they were smart men who came over from the old country. They saved their money and began investing in legitimate businesses not just speakeasies.”
“Well what’s the problem with that, why did the Mikkelsons’ take offense to that?”
“Ah. You see, this was a grudge carried over from the old country. Alessandro Salvatore was an immigrant and he made a fast friend on the ship, Roberto Mikkelson. They had lots of things in common and shared some passions such as fine drinks and of course, food. When they both arrived they decided to room together and split expenses until they could find their way in the world. Alessandro began working as a butcher in a small store in the city, while Roberto really didn’t find any legitimate work instead offering his services as a carpenter and a contractor. While Roberto would find odd jobs here and there, he did little to help Alessandro with expenses. Alessandro worked night and day to be able to afford the little flat they shared. They had luxuries that weren’t afforded to many on the streets, they had heat and running water. They even had a little light to read by in the evenings. When Roberto was at the flat, the enthusiasm he had for moving to the new world, was quickly spent. He saw people that had also arrived from the old world, having much nicer things than Alessandro had. Alessandro didn’t seem to have any ambition according to Roberto and wouldn’t amount to anything because he had no desire to vast wealth. Alessandro only
advised Roberto to have faith and patience, he didn’t.”
Chapter 2
“So Roberto fucked him over?”
“In a sense. Let’s just say that Roberto didn’t have patience with anything, and Alessandro gave him more chances than he should have. The day though when the metaphorical straw broke the camel’s back was a cold winter’s eve. Alessandro despite his long hours at the butcher’s shop, had made several friends in the city and one day one of his buddies came in the shop with a pretty blonde woman at his side. The young woman was in the process of planning a dinner party for several rich publicists. Alessandro discovered that she worked for an editor as a private chef and that night was to be their annual Christmas gala. She didn’t have a clue what to make, but their friend told her that Alessandro would give her all the tools to make magic happen. Well Alessandro had read up on some dishes and gave her some recommendations and took his time in carving her the perfect slab of meat. Now here the story gets a little murky. Some versions say he made her a rack of lamb, others the perfect beef roast, the point though is from that day on, Alessandro was smitten with the woman.”
“So what’s the problem, didn’t he court her or something? I mean, from the pictures you’ve shown me, it seems he wasn’t a bad looking dude.”
“Oh no, hah! You’ll see Trent, the looks wasn’t the problem. Alessandro had been saving his money and was getting ready to start his own business, but he didn’t really have the confidence to impress the young woman. The woman, though, Margie, was her name… she was considered a bold lady for the time and had no problem in taking the initiative. After the dinner party was a raging success, Margie’s employers felt the need to reward her for her efforts. They not only gave Margie a raise, but they also gave her the keys to an old restaurant they purchased in town for her to run. She was brought to tears by her good fortune and made it a point to find Alessandro to properly thank him.”
