Francesca
I didn’t see Wolfe at the winery the next day.
My father had sent him and some of the others on errands, and I wasn’t sure exactly what those errands were. My father didn’t share every single aspect of the business with me, and I assumed that was intentional.
I was swamped absorbing Lombardi’s business and merging it with ours, on top of everything else I had to do.
And if I was this busy, then that meant all the guys were busy too.
I wasn’t sure when Wolfe and I would have any days off in the future, let alone at the same time.
Sunday was the only slow day we had at the winery, and we usually went to church as a family, so I was still busy anyway.
I had dinner in the oven when Wolfe texted. On my way.
I didn’t invite him over anymore. There was just this unspoken assumption between us that he would come over whenever he was able to get away.
I still hadn’t gone to his place yet, but now we had a routine.
And when I made dinner, I always cooked for two instead of one.
As with all men, a hot meal at the end of the day meant a lot to him.
He didn’t explicitly say that, but I could tell he was excited for it.
I liked to cook, so I didn’t mind.
And I especially liked to cook for him.
He let himself inside without knocking with his bag over his shoulder. “Hey, baby.” He set the bag on the couch then walked up to me, looking me up and down, wearing one of the t-shirts he’d left here. “You look hot.” His arms circled me and he kissed me, gripping me tightly like he always did.
“Thanks. You always look hot.”
“I know.” He pulled away and showed the smirk on his face. “What’s for dinner?”
“Short-rib ravioli.”
“Ooh, that has my name written all over it. Need help?”
“You can set the table.”
“Yes, signorina.” He grabbed everything and set the table. Then he took something out of his bag, a thick white envelope, and set it on the counter before he took a seat and pulled out his phone, firing off a couple texts.
“What’s this?”
“Cash.”
“For…?”
“I’ve taken you out once, and you’ve cooked for me ever since.”
“So?”
“I should be taking care of you.”
“It’s just dinner, Wolfe.”
“I’m a big man, I eat a lot, and I know food isn’t cheap, so just take the money.”
“I don’t want to.”
He finally put down his phone and looked at me, irritation swimming in his gaze. “It’s been a long day, and I’d love to have dinner, ask you about your day, make love to you, and then go to bed. So please just take the money.”
“Make love to me?”
“What else do you think we’re doing?” he asked seriously. “You fuck a one-night stand or a situationship. This is a fully committed, monogamous, deep and passionate relationship. So yeah, it’s not fucking at that point.”
I stared at him from where I stood in the kitchen.
He stared back, silently doubling down on what he’d said.
“Alright.”
“Alright, you’ll take the money?”
I didn’t want his money, but I could tell this was one of those instances where Wolfe would not back down for any reason. “Alright.”
“Good girl.” He grabbed his phone and started to type again.
I finished preparing dinner, put the salad and bread on the table, and then served the hot plates next.
“Fuck yeah.” He pocketed his phone, grabbed his fork, and started with his salad. The animosity was gone, like it’d never been there in the first place. “How was your day, baby?”
No man had ever called me baby like that, and he did it so well. Pulled it off effortlessly. I sat across from him and started with my salad. “Busy. With the new business and the winery and everything else…it’s just a lot. Can never catch up.”
“Yeah, your father is hell-bent on expansion.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“He wants to make sure his grip on the arms business is ironclad before shit hits the fan.”
“My father is young enough that he has the ambition to take over the world, but he’s also a middle-aged man who’s already seen the best years of his life. He’s smack in the middle, and sometimes I think he’s ambitious but also in some kind of mid-life crisis.”
He regarded me as he chewed his food. “That’s not the impression I get.”
“What’s your impression?”
“That he’s a man who wants power and money and respect, like all men. It has nothing to do with age. You know how good it feels to buy a twenty-million-euro place in cash and see the real estate agent’s eyes pop out of his head? I think he’s just a normal guy like me or anyone else.”
“You are not normal.”
“Yeah, maybe that wasn’t a good example.” He smirked then kept eating.
I took a few bites of the ravioli, something I picked up from the market. Fresh made that day, just had to boil it for three minutes and it was done. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything—you know that.” He continued to eat like a hungry bear, arms on the table.
“You don’t seem like a guy who works for someone else.”
He took another bite and continued to eat.
I waited for him to respond.
He swallowed his food. “I’m waiting for the question.”
“Why don’t you do your own thing? Have people working for you? You just seem more like a leader than a follower.”
“I’ve been asked that question a lot by a lot of different people.
And the simple answer is, it’s harder to see the details around you when you’re driving the car.
But when you’re the passenger, all the details come into focus in much sharper quality.
It allows me to do my job well. And when everyone is coming for the don’s throat, it allows me to come for theirs first. In some ways, I do think I’m the one in charge, but the don doesn’t want to admit that—especially to himself.
I’ve never been good at diplomacy or negotiation or even friendship, so I’m a much better pit bull that never gets put on a leash.
Besides, there’s not much adrenaline in bossing people around and running a business and all that.
Sounds like a fucking snooze fest. Tell me to kill someone who crosses the line.
Tell me to torture someone for information.
Tell me to break someone’s neck for showing disrespect. That’s the kind of shit I’m into.”
“So you like violence for the sake of violence.”
“Not how I would describe it. I would say I like to play the game. I like to be in the field. Let me put it this way. There are cops who are on the street arresting bad people and putting them in jail, and their bosses are the ones in their fancy corner offices signing paperwork all day long and getting fat. I don’t want to sit at a desk and get fat.
I want to get my hands dirty—every single day. ”
That was a better explanation than his previous one.
“Any other questions?” he asked as he continued to eat.
“Not related to work…but something more personal.”
“Ask me anything, and I’ll tell you.”
My relationship with Wolfe was different from any other date or hookup or situationship I’d had in my life. And his transparency and point-blank assertions were refreshing. There was no bullshit. No riddles. Just raw data. “What kind of future do you see for yourself?”
His eyebrows furrowed at the question. “Alive—hopefully.”
“I mean, where do you see yourself in five years?”
“Is this a job interview?” he barked. “If there’s something you want to know, just ask.”
“I just don’t want to give you the wrong idea of why I’m asking the question.”
“Ask your question first, and then clarify your intentions afterward,” he said. “This is why I always shoot straight for the hip—to avoid wasting time like this.”
“It’s delicate—”
“Ask your question—”
“Do you see yourself getting married someday?”
He stilled then stared.
“I’m not asking because I want to get married or anything… I’m just wondering.”
“Marriage is not something I’ve ever thought about—not once.
” Like the question didn’t bother him or make him lose his appetite, he put a few ravioli in his mouth and chewed.
When he was finished, he spoke again. “I’ve never cared or respected the institution.
I’m not religious, and up until now, I’ve never been monogamous.
It’s not exactly my vibe. Instead of standing in a church before God and exchanging vows under the oversight of a priest, I’d rather swear a blood oath to a woman in the presence of the devil.
Cut my palm with a knife, and with the blood dripping from my fingertips, pledge my loyalty, my protection, and my blood lust for as long as I live. Worship her like a muse in a cult.”
I listened to all that with a slight guard, intimidated by his intensity and his imagery. “Then you do believe in marriage… It just looks different to you than it does to everyone else.”
“Perhaps.” He continued to eat. “What about you?”
“I believe in God.”
“I meant about marriage.”
“Do I want to get married someday?”
“Yes.” He grabbed a piece of bread and ate it.
“Of course I do.” I didn’t want to shy away from that fact.
I wasn’t sure if Wolfe would be my husband someday.
What we had was passionate and real and intense, but was he someone who could settle down and be a husband and a father?
I wasn’t sure. He told me if I ever married him, he would never let me go, hunt me to the ends of the earth if I ever tried to run, would refuse a divorce if I asked for it, so I wasn’t sure if that was a smart choice anyway.
“I think I already know the answer to this, but do you think about having children?”
He shook his head. “Hasn’t crossed my mind once.”
I didn’t press him on it, finding it hard to imagine him as a father. His life was so big and grand and adventurous, and being home and playing blocks on the floor just didn’t seem like something he could do.
He stared at me. “But just because I haven’t thought about it, doesn’t mean I won’t think about it in the future.”
I lifted my eyes from my food and looked at him.
“Are children something you want?”
“Yes.” Family wasn’t perfect. It was messy, complicated, and sometimes downright painful. But I didn’t know where I’d be without my father and brother.