“Think very carefully before you do this.”
Nikita smiles and whatever hope I had that this would ever work out is swept away.
“You too, Settimo… You too.”
12
ALEX
“That’ll be thirty-seven fifty.”
I stand in front of the butcher shop cash register with a smile on my face. It isn’t fake. The nice old lady in front of me comes in on occasion when her kids come to visit. She says it’s because our meat is more tender and more fresh than the grocery stores’, and this special occasion calls for the best. It’s sweet and it puts me in a good mood to see there are still good people out there.
She picks through her coin purse, and I get the urge to ask for her name. As much as she’s gone on and on about Lucy and Peter—she named her children after characters in her favorite novel in the sixties, by the way—she’s never mentioned it.
“Here you go, darling,” she says, handing over two twenties. I go to take it, and she gently places a wrinkled hand on mine. “You keep the change.”
She always does this. The first time, I politely declined, but now I take it. She seems so delighted when I do.
“Thank you, ma’am,” I say with a smile.
“You are so polite, dear.” Her thin lips lift. “Your parents raised you well.”
I don’t have a response to that, so I put the cash in the register and pocket the change before handing her a receipt.
“What’s your name, dear? I’d like to compliment you to the manager.”
“Alex,” I say. “But you don’t need to do that. My dad is the owner.”
“Well, you tell him Ms. Rudy says you need a raise.”
Ms. Rudy. I’ll remember that.
“That’s very kind of you, Ms. Rudy. You have a great dinner with your children, and I’ll see you next time.”
She picks up her paper bag with her roast and gleams with pride. “And my new grandson. Did I tell you Lucy had her baby?”
About four times.
“Oh, of course, and your grandson. Congratulations, again.”
The door chimes just as Ms. Rudy opens her mouth, presumably to tell me about the boy’s red hair he got from his deceased grandfather… again. I don’t take my eyes off her so she knows I’m interested. Whoever just walked in is another customer genuinely here for the meat. There wasn’t a single “special” package of meat prepared today, which is a first, but I’m not complaining.
“They named him Richard, after my late husband, and it’s fitting, too. He has the reddest hair, just like Richard did. They’re calling my grandson Ricky, but his full name is Richard Gary Nickleson. Isn’t that the sweetest name you’ve ever heard?”
“It is,” I agree, although I would be surprised if the kid’s nickname didn’t end up being ‘dick’ to bullies at school.
I glance over Ms. Rudy’s shoulder at the customer who came in and is patiently waiting behind her, and my heart stutters when I see who it is. Ms. Rudy follows my gaze and then turns back to me with a giddy smile. “Well, I’d better let you get back to work.” She gives me a wink.
Can she see what this man does to me so easily?
“Thanks for coming in, Ms. Rudy.”
“Bye, dear.” She turns and waddles past Settimo, her eyes pinned on him in what looks like an ogle.
Settimo steps up to the counter and starts eyeing the meat. I nervously look back at the closed office door. My dad is back there working on the books, but he could come out at any moment.
“What are you doing here?” I whisper harshly, whipping back to him.