Chapter 19 Relax
RELAX
DAPHNE
“Are you ready for this?”
Today’s the day. Our fathers have agreed to a sit-down, for a brief time, to discuss how they’re going to handle our relationship and their future grandchild.
They’re over-the-top ridiculous and idiotic.
I’ll never understand why men do the crazy, silly shit they do, and age doesn’t seem to help them either.
Leo leans forward and kisses the top of my head. “It’ll be fine.” I’m not sure if he’s trying to convince me or himself.
My father wanted Mario to come to the bar for the meeting, but we all knew that was a horrible idea. I’ve seen enough mafia movies to know a sit-down has to take place in a neutral location. No mob boss is willing to go into enemy territory, even if it is to call a truce.
Leo invited both men to his penthouse for a one-on-one, figuring it was the only place that made any kind of sense. He invited his father to come over early because I haven’t had the pleasure, and I use that word very loosely, of meeting the Mario Conti.
“What if it’s not?” I check my makeup in the mirror for at least the third time, wanting to look perfect.
I’m always a skeptic, especially when it has anything to do with my father. Leo’s father is the great unknown to me, but Leo’s told me he’s just as much of a hard-ass as my dad. So, basically, we’re screwed unless they can rise above their petty bullshit for the sake of their grandchild.
Leo squeezes my shoulders from behind me as I stare at my reflection. “Trust me. They may be pigheaded, but neither man is stupid. It’s going to be all right, Daphne,” he tells me when I give him a skeptical smile in the mirror.
“Why am I so nervous?”
I had trouble applying my eyeliner a few minutes ago because my hands were shaking so badly I couldn’t draw a straight line to save my life.
I know how much is at stake with this meeting and the myriad ways shit could go south.
If my father and Mario can’t work things out…
Well, I don’t even want to think about how that’ll impact the life of my baby, our baby, in the future.
Before Leo can respond, the doorman calls, letting us know Mario Conti is on his way up in the elevator. I shake out my hands, trying to get rid of a little nervous energy before the show begins.
“Relax,” Leo says like it’s just that easy.
That’s totally a man thing. My three brothers are barely ever rattled about anything.
I never see them pacing with worry or popping Xanax like it’s their lifeblood.
That’s purely a woman thing. And I’m not sexist, I’m a realist. Men let shit slide off their backs, figuring what’s done is done and what will be will be, so they don’t even bother spending any energy worrying about how they fucked something up.
I never thought I was a worrier. But the older I get, and now with the baby on the way, my stress level is off the charts ridiculous.
The elevator chimes before the doors open, revealing an older, just as handsome version of Leo.
Mr. Conti’s studying something on his phone when he steps into the foyer dressed in a three-piece suit, shoes so polished I’m sure I could see my own reflection, and his hair perfectly styled like he just stepped out of the silver fox edition of GQ magazine.
His gaze travels up my body, but not in that creepy way, before his eyes meet mine. There’s no smile on his face, no way for me to judge what the hell he’s thinking.
“Pop, it’s good of you to join us,” Leo says, greeting his father with way more formality than I’ve ever greeted mine.
His father’s eyes veer away from me for a moment to look at his son, and I’m thankful for a reprieve, even if it’s short-lived. “Leo,” he says coldly before his gaze is back on me. “You must be Daphne.” He steps forward, entering the foyer which now seems way too small for the three of us.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Conti.” I somehow smile, even though all I want to do is run and hide.
He studies me for a moment, not saying a word. I’m about to hyperventilate, wishing I could excuse myself and slink away to anywhere else but here. “I can see why my son is so enamored of you,” he tells me, finally cracking what I think is a smile.
I glance nervously to Leo for a moment, looking for a rescue. “Thank you, sir.” I keep my words formal, always remembering my upbringing and the respect for my elders that was practically beaten into me as a child.
“Mario, please.” He dips his chin and takes another step closer.
I resist the urge to back up and flee, knowing it’ll do nothing to help smooth the waters and gain favor with Leo’s father. “Mario,” I say softly.
Mario grabs my hand and lifts it to his mouth. “You’ve grown into a beautiful woman, Daphne.” He kisses the top of my hand so softly, I barely feel his lips on my skin.
Sometimes I forget the Contis lived in our neighborhood. I can’t remember a time when there was peace in my life instead of the constant bullshit my father has brought on my family over the last two decades.
Leo pulls me backward as Mario releases my hand. “Would you like some coffee, Pop?” Leo asks as he moves us toward the living room like he’s trying to put distance between his father and me.
“I’ll take a glass of wine,” Mario answers as he follows behind us to the living room.
“Thanks for coming today,” I say out of nervousness as I place a hand on my stomach. “It means a lot to us.”
Mario takes a seat on the couch across from me, studying my face with his steely eyes. “We’re going to be family,” Leo’s father says a few moments later.
I nod and tug at the hem of my skirt, pulling it down over my knees. “We are.” I laugh for some reason, wishing I could have a glass of wine too. Awkward moments are always easier to swallow with a drink.
Mario takes the glass of wine from Leo, looking every bit a businessman instead of a cold-hearted mobster.
There’s a not-so-comfortable silence as we sit on the couch, Leo and I on one side of the room, and his father on the other.
In situations like this, I always talk, trying to fill the void.
Silence isn’t something I’m used to in my family.
Three brothers and a very outspoken mom make quiet almost an impossibility.
“Leo told me you already have grandchildren,” I say, trying to find middle ground for us to discuss.
“Ah, yes.” He lifts his wineglass to his lips and pauses. “Alicia’s always been a problem child.”
Alicia is one of Leo’s sisters, and from everything I’ve heard about her, she is, in fact, a problem.
If I didn’t know the backstory, I would’ve been taken aback by Mario’s comment about his daughter.
But knowing what I know, and her propensity to bed-hop, I know his father can’t exactly be proud of her antics.
“Pop,” Leo warns. “Be nice.”
“I love my grandchildren. I couldn’t cherish their little faces any more than I already do, but my daughter…” He shakes his head and sighs. “She’s always taken a different path and not one I would’ve chosen for her.”
Mario is trying to be civil. From the way Leo described him, his father is putting his best foot forward as we sit in the living room, waiting for my father.
I replace Alicia’s name in his sentence and know he’s not exactly thrilled about the path Leo took either.
I’m sure when he pictured his son having his own children, it wasn’t with the daughter of his mortal enemy.
Mario leans forward and places his wineglass on the coffee table which separates us. “Can I speak freely?” he asks as he rests his elbows on his legs near his knees, looking at us over the frame of his black glasses.
“Of course,” I say, not letting Leo answer first. “I’m never one to bullshit, Mario.”
“When I heard about you and my son, I wasn’t exactly happy.
” Mario rubs his hands together in front of himself and glances down at the hardwood floor for a second.
“But the way my son looks at you is much the same way I looked at his mother before she agreed to be my wife. Nothing and no one could’ve said anything to change my feelings for her. ”
I don’t say anything as I peer over at Leo, who is, in fact, staring at me. I’m not sure there’s anything I could actually say in response to Mario’s statement, so I decide to keep my mouth shut and just listen for once.
“My approval is not needed, but I give it willingly,” he says. “I only want the best for my son’s first child.”
There’s a little misogyny in his words. I hear the sexism plain as day. There’s something about the males in Italian families having their own children that always earns favor above everyone else.
“I will do my best to work things out with your father. For the sake of my unborn grandchild and the future of our families.”
This is progress.
Leo’s phone dings, and he glances down. “Your father is here,” he tells me, covering my hand with his and squeezing.
Mario stands as Leo does, but I beat them to the elevator doors. I want my face to be the first one my father sees as he steps foot in Leo’s penthouse.
“Papa,” I say as soon as I see my father. He’s pulled out all the stops, looking every bit as dapper as Mr. Conti in a three-piece suit and newly polished shoes.
My father’s never been one for suits. He’s worn them, but usually only for funerals and weddings. I can’t tell which category this meeting falls into. Probably a little bit of both. One part of his life is ending, and a new chapter is about to begin.
When my father wraps his arms around me, I feel him stiffen as Mario walks behind me. “Be good today,” I remind Papa. “This is for the baby, not your ego.”
He kisses my cheeks as he backs away and smiles. “I know how to handle men like Mario,” he tells me, and that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.
I want them to bury the hatchet, but I don’t even know if it’s possible with all the bad blood between them.
Years of turf wars, murder, and backstabbing make the possibility of a truce pretty close to impossible.
These two men have to rise above their work for the sake of their children and unborn grandchild.
“Santino,” Mario says as my father releases me.
My father dips his head. “Mario.”
Well, this is a start. They’ve been in the same room for thirty seconds, and there hasn’t been any bloodshed.
Baby steps. This is good.
Leo wraps his arm around my back and grips my hip roughly. “Let’s go into the living room, shall we?” Leo says to both men as they stare each other down.
I take a step and immediately double over like someone just sucker-punched me in the gut.
“Daphne,” Leo says, his voice filled with panic.
My hand flies to my stomach, and I gasp for air, feeling like someone’s trying to rip my uterus out through my belly button.
“Something’s wrong.”