“Yes, just like always. We need to raise a ton of money for the new children’s wing, so we will be rubbing lots of elbows over the surf and turf,” he chuckles, “and cigars and whisky at your club as an afterparty, if we’re able to get away afterwards.”
“Great, I’ll see you tomorrow night, little brother.Buona notte.”
“Ciao.”
If this was springtime, the windows would be open, and the curtains would be blowing in the wind coming from the mountain bringing cooler air with it. But not tonight.
It’s technically past our official summer but the humidity clings to me and the temperatures now remain as high as the nineties until late September. It’s hot enough to set my fucking balls on fire so I peel off the rest of my clothing and finish my whiskey.
I take a lukewarm shower, but the emerald-green eyes of the hot dirty blonde haunt my thoughts. Carla will have to wait, if I call her back at all. I haven’t decided yet.
The serenity I find inside my house is what I crave. This is my refuge, my escape, my get-away-from-it all. Life has so much drama and every time I come home I breathe easier.
I kept a few working fireplaces, so I guess there is a bit of romantic buried under this dark heart. One fireplace is located in a small room just inside the front door. The other is in the cozy living room with French doors that open onto the terrace that overlooks my modest vineyard.
The property has plenty of unused acreage and some outlying buildings like the detached garage and greenhouse that sit two-hundred yards away from the house.
I haven’t had much time to deal with the vineyard, so I pay someone to maintain it for me. I have much to learn but one of these days, I hope to create an incredible Chianti. For now, I leave it to the professionals.
My brother, Dante can be a bit of a task master and between the club and the construction company, I’m never at a loss for something to do. Thankfully, I have people I trust, and I delegate work to them, but it still leaves many other details that only I can carry out.
Days off are Sundays, and even then, we get our most important conversations in at Mama’s house. The backyard is our most prized office space, as we can drink, have a cigar, and talk without the confines of walls or moles who might have infiltrated us. Though I doubt that.
I throw my phone on the charger before I remove my bath towel—reveling in the freedom I have to do so because my life is micromanaged for my safety—then slip into bed butt naked.
* * *
I sleep in, and by the time I roll over and crawl out of bed, I’m still sleepy. Today will be a long day. We’ve booked six outrageously expensive tables that will enable us to work our deals under everyone’s unsuspecting eyes. Eyes that are focused on friends, fashion, luxurious food and ambiance. Not dark world figures.
We accomplish an unprecedented amount of business in a few hours and all the while we are eating food made by famous chefs and drinking expensive champagne. Mama doesn’t need to know it’s our annual meeting with contacts that are both local and foreign.
The event is filled with decadent food, alcohol, and gorgeous women. Millionaires and billionaires? Oh yeah, and did I mention an abundance of pretty women who are divorced and very wealthy?
We’ve reserved tables for our construction company, one for Micheli Enterprises and our counterparts in crime have their tables near ours. Families of various names that most people wouldn’t think twice about as our business affiliations on or off the books. Most have forgotten the days of my grandfather and the mafia wars. Today we blend in with high society and build legit businesses.
That’s why I put the dean of the university next to our table along with others that aren’t connected to us. It’s kind of funny to know what I do and how we work while everyone else visits. The irony isn’t lost on me. The fact that no one suspects a thing makes it the perfect meeting place.
I throw back the soft sheet covering my hard abs and stand, walking to the window that overlooks the rows of trellis filled with ripening grapes brings a smile to my face.
Soon it will be time to harvest them. That’s when the open bed trucks will be slowing down traffic as they congest the double lane roads to take the grapes to be processed over old roads.
I throw on some work out shorts so I can walk on the treadmill downstairs before whaling on the punching bag. It gets my heart rate up and when I’ve completed my forty minutes of aerobic activity, I pour myself some orange juice and make myself some hardboiled eggs and thinly sliced bacon that takes just a few minutes to cook.
I drizzle some olive oil on the eggs I’ve peeled and sit down with two espressos. It sucks eating alone but it’s the least of my worries. My mind wanders to what Carla will be wearing tonight. Then I chastise myself for thinking of her when my heart isn’t in it.
What heart? We’re just meeting basic needs. Sex. Lust. A one-time hookup. Maybe that’s why she was texting me yesterday. I’m such an ass, I need to stick to girls who aren’t looking to settle down.
But I like what I like and if a woman doesn’t captivate me with the first glance, I don’t bother because you can’t fake chemistry and fucking is no fun without being aroused to the point of oblivion. It sounds terrible but we all have standards.
The girls that are tens, like the girl at the club, I know enough to stay away from. The dark-blonde with highlights from last night has high maintenance written all over her and I think her car might cost more than mine. She must be married to a wealthy man, but I doubt he would let her out late at night alone. I don’t know why I’m still thinking of her. I’m doubt I’ll ever see her again.
Besides, I can’t have a woman hotter than myself because I’m enough high maintenance for two and I’d hate competing all the time. There’s plenty of that between work and my two brothers.
I surf the channels to relax before sinking into my soft sofa in the living room killing time until I need to get dressed. This is one of my favorite rooms with large paned windows that cost a fortune to install.
The incredible view of the vineyard and the slope of the hill behind the house is picture worthy. The cost of the new windows was worth every penny.
Mom calls. She’s worried her dress isn’t perfect. This is the event of the year and something she always attended with my father, so I know that she’s missing him and it’s not the dress that has her nervous. She goes through this around his birthday and the anniversary of his death.