“Well, can I at least help you find a dress?” Francesca asks.
“We all will,” Juliet says, taking a bite of her pizza.
“Yes, you might as well go to the same shop,” Mama finally gives her endorsement.
“Thank you, but I just don’t know.” Prende nervously picks at her food and gives me a mixed grin.
“Nonsense, you’ll have a great time.” I push Prende to overcome her social awkwardness. I’m a bit of a shit for doing so as she’s never been surrounded by this many family members at one time.
“Okay, it sounds like fun.” Prende looks from Juliet to Francesca, sisters she never had before. “I don’t have any siblings, I’m overwhelmed.”
“Well, you have a house full of them now,” Mama chuckles and raises her glass to us. “Saluti.”
“Saluti.” We all toast.
I’m enjoying the good company and good food when I realize I forgot to bring the list of names for Dante to look over. Because it’s common for criminals to have more than one alias, it would help to have surveillance tapes to help us figure out who was at the hotel that night.
Most places nowadays, especially hotels, video tape is everything, but it’s impossible to get a copy before the police confiscate them. And there is a general unwillingness of hotels to share private videos of their establishments due to privacy.
To get our hands on a recording, we would have to own the business or have a mole in the police department. This time, we have neither. Just because we’ve been doing this for some time, doesn’t mean we’re perfect at what we do. Like anyone else, we have limits to our abilities.
Between bites of pizza, we joke, and tease and life couldn’t get any better. I steal glances at Prende and watch her tell animated stories about customers and their crazy floral requests, leaving the girls in stitches.
The evening comes to an end, and I wrap my arms possessively around Prende, letting her know she’s mine and part of our extended family of dubious and not so dubious characters. She wraps her arms around me too and squeezes. Maybe there is hope for us after all.
The week starts off busy as Angelica is back in town from her fashion shoot and wants to meet up. We are likely to encounter her in the months ahead and, to avoid a cat fight, I need to smooth things over ahead of time. She’s still pissed off about my silent treatment, which means she cares for me and deserves to know I’m off the market. That needs to be done in person, so I agree to lunch.
We meet at our favorite café near the Uffizi. She shows up wearing a colorful Pucci pantsuit and looks stunning. I stand when she walks in and greet her with an innocent peck on the lips.
“Ciao.” We sit and she talks nonstop for twenty minutes about her trip before she casually puts her hand on mine. I pull mine back and explain that I met someone. She wants to know who, how, and why, but all she really needs to know is that I’m getting married. I apologize for not telling her sooner and basically ghosting her. It’s the least I can do.
She handles it better than I expected. She didn’t throw wine in my face or threaten me with a knife, so I applaud her for being understanding, and we actually end up having a nice lunch. Or at least I did. As usual, she orders a bunch of food and pushes it around on her plate. Typical model, lives on champagne and cigarettes.
I say goodbye to Angelica and head straight to the floral shop, where I find Prende waiting. Not just waiting, but literally standing at the door, arms folded and daggers for eyes. If looks could kill, I’d be a dead man.
“What? What have I done?” The offensive usually defuses most situations followed by changing the subject as my second line of defense if it was messy work details.
Prende shakes her head in disgust and turns her back on me, heading towards her office.
“Don’t act stupid. I saw you with her, the model.”
“Impossible, I was at lunch, you were here.”
“No, I had to go to the bank right next to where you were cozied up with your ex. I will not tolerate you having mistresses.”
“Prende, trust me, I’ve been faithful.”
“Her hand was on yours.”
“I pulled mine back, I was trying to sort things out to avoid an awkward situation later. She knows important people and we never know when we might need someone.”
“So, all that was to keep her in the loop and use her to benefit you and your family? Is that how you operate?”
I walk towards her, she steps back until she’s behind her desk, essentially putting a rectangular ‘wall’ between us.
“Prende, it’s not like that at all.”
“You can say what you want, I’m staying at my place tonight.”