Chapter 53 Carlo #2
“Hmm,” I reply with a cold smile until the woman showers my wife with enough praise to suit me. She’s suffered greatly with her husband dead and her son in prison, but I won’t permit anyone to hold my wife accountable for her father’s sins.
For her part, Francesca is the picture of graciousness until the woman finally leaves us be. “That wasn’t necessary. You’re not going to make them all like me, and you don’t have to. I won’t feel ashamed over what Da did anymore, but that doesn’t mean I expect them to forget it either.”
I take her hand in mine, drawing it up to my lips for a soft kiss as the antipasti is brought out. “Perhaps not but I will try every day to make my city fall in love with you as I have. Even before you take Broadway by storm.”
She grins. “They won’t love me as much as you do.”
“I didn’t say that. No one will love you as fiercely as I do, mia moglie, but they may try.”
After we order our meal, I can tell there’s something else on her mind. Once the soup is set before us, she’s ready to talk. “Regarding Broadway… I’ve spent a lot of time chatting with my professors this past week, particularly the ones who have worked full-time in that setting.”
I nod, mentally preparing myself for whatever she’s about to ask for. I must keep her safe, but I don’t want to deny her anything.
“I don't want to take Broadway by storm. It doesn’t feel as important to me anymore.”
“That wasn’t what I expected you to say. You said you wanted to be a singer.”
“I can sing anywhere. I don’t need to do it on a stage.”
“You’re still very young, Francesca. You don’t have to audition for any big roles until you’re ready. You may change your mind.”
She shrugs. “I appreciate you saying that, but I’ve been thinking about something I might enjoy more.
I enjoy writing music, and I love teaching Giulia to play the piano in her own way.
Bianca’s asked me for vocal lessons, too.
” Warmth floods my chest every time I think of that day when all three girls were gathered around my wife’s piano with her.
I love seeing her with them, especially Giulia.
“Do you believe helping them would interfere with your plans?”
“Well, no, but I thought, what if I could teach others in the Trio to sing and play the piano?
We're not all marathon shoppers and professional gossips. I could offer music lessons to anyone who wanted to learn. It would give me a purpose in our community, make me feel a part of things while still getting to enjoy the thing I love.”
“Music lessons for the daughters and wives of my men… I like the idea very much.”
“Well, it wouldn’t just have to be the girls and wives. Boys and men can enjoy music, too… unless you’re going to be stubborn about that.”
“I’m going to be stubborn about that. I can’t permit you to be alone with men I don’t trust implicitly.”
“You can trust me around other men.”
“I know that, but my men have their duties on one hand and their darker tendencies on the other. They might be tempted to forget themselves when faced with your beauty and kindness in a private setting. I won’t allow it.”
“You’re being ridiculously possessive.” I arch an eyebrow because we both know that’s who I am. “What about the younger boys? The piano can be a difficult task to master. It takes discipline and tenacity. Good attributes in a future Made Man, no?”
“Very well. Wives and daughters and any sons who are too young to take the oath may take lessons with you if you accept them as students.”
She claps her hands together with glee, and it’s a battle not to match her wide smile with one of my own here in public.
The rest of our meal passes as pleasantly as the entire day has. I won’t lament taking a day off to spend with my wife. I’m looking forward to taking her back home soon.
However, as dessert is served, Francesca grows pale and grasps my hand. “He must be following me,” she whispers, sounding terrified.
Tensing for a fight, I look over my shoulder and then relax. “Who? Agent Miller? He’s not following you.”
“But he was the one…”
“I know. You told me. He’s fond of the gnocchi al tartufo here.”
Her eyes grow wide as saucers as she whispers, “The FBI put Signora Camilleri’s husband and son in prison.”
“True, they have their job to do as we have our business to conduct. It doesn’t mean they’re following you.”
Perhaps me though. They’re bound to be curious about what became of a certain federal witness and the unsolved missing person case of a theater student named Chris. They won’t find either body, not that I'll worry my wife with those details.
“Does his presence upset you?”
She considers it for a few moments before answering. “No, not really. He was very polite to me, but it reminds me of Harper and how dumb I was.”
“Not dumb. Don’t ever think that. And I have it on good authority the young woman calling herself Harper has been reassigned to the Houston field office after her disappointing results with her first undercover assignment, so you needn’t worry about running into her here.
Relax and enjoy your dessert, Red. Signora Camilleri?
” I call. The owner steps over at once. “Send a bottle of the Barolo to the blond gentleman over there in the cheap suit with my compliments.”
With a nod, the lady hurries to do so while Frankie stares at me like I’ve gone mad.
“You said he was polite,” I comment before tasting my dessert.
Giving me an amused smile, my wife nods and dives into her own.