12. Antonio
Two weeks down.
Technically, Alex didn’t win that bizarre “negotiation” of hers. While she was busy believing she was wearing Antonio down, he was really debating himself. Pros: Alex is excellent at what she does, and he can keep an eye on her. Antonio needs to keep an eye on her if she’s going to keep being so reckless. There’s no telling the kind of trouble she could get herself into making decisions like that. For that reason, it didn’t end up being much of a debate at all.
There is something else to add to the list of advantages: the stench in the comms room is gone. Apparently, hair isn’t the only thing Alex likes to make smell nice. Antonio remembers seeing a row of candles lining her bedroom windowsill and an air freshener in every other room in her condo.
He spots one on top of the server rack and another in the corner on top of a stack of files. Unfortunately, as much as Alex has changed the aroma of the space, she also adds to the clutter.
At least six bright-green cords snake up to some cylindrical-looking device and two giant monitors on the table. Next to a keyboard is Antonio’s gray hoodie, which he let Alex borrow after a cold front took Philly by surprise last week. He doesn’t need it back right this second, but it could use a little more respect than to be a coaster for yesterday’s (or it might be from last week) tea.
Antonio sets his phone on the table. “Alright, gentle—guys.”
“Gentle guys?” Alex asks, pulling at one of the coils in front of her face.
Gio leans over and somewhat whispers, “I think he’s still getting used to you being here.”
Very much so.
“We all are,” Pete grumbles with a stink eye.
Makeo shakes his head. “Not me. This place needed a little ‘Alex’, I think.”
Alex gives a small smile, while Gio chuckles.
“Tch. Can we get on with it?” Pete asks.
Antonio ignores his attitude. “Nathan’s out again?”
“Yeah,” Gio replies. “Something about his wife.”
“Alright. Well, Pluto or Sprinkles?”
Alex cringes. “Explain.”
“DJs for Memorial Day Weekend. We’re a little behind. A lot, actually. Thanks to this hotel shit.” And you.
“Oh. Is their music better than their choices of names?”
“You tell me. They’re both pretty popular–at least on the East Coast.” Antonio connects his phone to the big display and plays two videos. He tries to read Alex’s face throughout, but she sits stoically until the last of applause fades away. “And?”
“Honestly? I’m not feeling either.”
“Neither?” Antonio was expecting to end things with a quick vote as usual, but Alex tugs her ear, so he knows what that means.
“I wasn’t impressed. Can I offer a suggestion?” she asks.
“Mhmm.”
“Maybe…you could do a contest for local DJs? For the next two weeks they’d have to upload a demo and get as many votes as possible. Then, maybe the top four vote-getters could come and perform here, and you let the crowd decide who they want to see. You might not be able to charge as much as you would with an established name, but imagine the exposure you’d get. People will check out the website and come to the club. I think by the time the event comes, the tickets will have practically sold themselves.”
Gio gives a look that says “why not?”
Antonio massages his chin. “I’m just working out how to pull all that together in basically a month.”
“Yeah, it’s a little wild. But that doesn’t make it impossible. I’ll even throw in a couple of all-nighters. We can consider it overtime.”
Pete groans. “Is this all we’re covering? ‘Cuz Makeo and I could be out doing collections.”
“Yeah, maybe you should.” Antonio leans on the table. “Get outta here.”
“Dude, what’s your problem?” Makeo asks quietly, following Pete from the comms room.
Alex lowers her eyes.
“It’s not you,” Gio says. “His Ma’s not doing too well. She’s got MS. So he’s here to do his job and that’s about it.”
“Oh. That must suck.”
There’s an unpleasant quiet until Alex’s stomach grumbles.
“What did I tell you about feeding your pet?” Antonio asks.
“Wha—I did! This morning!”
“Are you talking about those little powder packs you put in your milk? Those aren’t breakfast. Even if they were, that was, what, eight hours ago?”
“Yes, they are! It has like twenty vitamins and minerals. And it wasn’t eight. It was six. But if you care so much, why don’t you do something about it?”
Gio smirks, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Yeah, bro, why don’t you do something about it? Weren’t you just telling me it’s been too long since you’ve seen Maria and Duke?”
If Antonio could reach, he’d kick his friend in the shin for his cosigning. Gio, even more so than Frankie, knows Antonio’s dilemma in keeping the lines drawn between him and Alex. The last time they went to eat was for a very specific reason, but to have some spontaneous meal? Sitting across from Alex while she mows him down with those provocative eyes of hers? It’s very much crossing a boundary. But it may be more trouble than it’s worth to try and get out of it.
While Antonio internally argues with himself, the outside is back to that awful silence.
“It’s fine, gentle guys,” Alex says. “I’ll just order something.”
“No—it’s…come on.”
“Really?” She grins. “Then I’m gonna use the restroom. Meet you out front.” Alex scoops up her jacket and backpack and darts out the room.
Gio waves. “Hey, while you’re there, grab me some—”
Antonio makes his exit before Gio finishes. He grabs his own coat from his office, and he and Alex arrive by the sliding doors almost simultaneously.
They get about halfway through the parking lot before she asks, “How far are we walking?” She looks down at champagne-toned, chunky-heeled boots and smacks the back of them together.
“Why would you wear shoes you can’t walk in?”
“Walking casually is a whole lot different than that freaking expedition you took me on last time. But it’s fine—give me like five minutes.”
Antonio tracks Alex to the left side of the lot until she disappears behind a row of cars. He takes his phone from his pocket and sees he has a new text.
GIO: shrimp alfredo. extra sauce on the side.
He puts his phone back in his pocket, and it buzzes. Twice. He pulls it out once more.
GIO: I can see you on the cameras. I know you saw my messages.
GIO: It’s cute how you know her routine already. Best boss ever.
Antonio looks up at one of the security cameras by the currently unlit fluorescent tubes of the prism sign. He hopes his glare transmits properly.
When Alex returns, she looks nothing like she did when she left him.
“Five minutes, huh?” Antonio asks. “Were they out of stock?”
“I couldn’t find them at first.”
“If your car looks anything like your bag, I can imagine.” He looks at her sneakers. “Did you get shorter?”
“Are you done being a jerk?”
“It depends. Are you done with the wardrobe change? ‘Cuz I know that’s not the same jacket, either.”
Alex walks towards the street.
“Where are you going?”
“I can’t stand next to you too long. The stupid might be contagious.”
“Too late for you, then,” Antonio says, pulling her backwards by her book bag.
Much as the previous one, this “expedition” is full of banter, eye rolls, and what Antonio has to dismiss as coincidental brushes of hands and forearms. Also—exhaustion. On Alex’s end.
“Dude. We’ve been walking for like,” —she coughs when she tries to breathe— “a mile. We’re almost at the damn edge of the city. My watch is gonna start expecting me to do shit like this all the time.”
“Tragic.” Dramatic.
Alex grips Antonio’s forearm. “I’m serious. You have to carry me. Else I’m not gonna make it.”
“I’ll make sure they find your body.”
“Sincerely, and I mean this in the most genuine way possible, go fuck yourself.”
A smile peeks as Antonio walks behind Alex and pushes her forward.
“What are you doing?!” she asks, trying to plant her feet.
“It’s right around the corner, Alex. Be a big girl.”
Shortly after, the familiar, bright-red awning with bold but sophisticated letters comes into view. Two girls with pigtails and matching barrettes bounce out of the door beneath it, followed by a woman and a man holding the straps of a hefty paper bag.
“Leo’s?” Alex coughs again. “Don’t tell me you have a restaurant too?”
Antonio bites down on the memories trying to escape. Within a month, Alex has had more peeks into his childhood than anyone aside from his family or Gio. “Come on.”
A bright-eyed, older woman looks up from a podium and gasps as they enter. Her thin physique seems to glide across the floor.
“Antonio!” Maria shrieks, grabbing at the sides of his arms. “It’s been a few months!”
“Yeah. Sorry about that.”
“Oh, don’t you worry, hun. I know my sweet boy wouldn’t go but so long without showing his face.” She brushes him off and beams at Alex. “And who might this lovely gal be?”
“Alex. Nice to meet you.”
“Well, hello Alex. I’m Maria.” Maria turns to lead them past the mostly-full tables to Antonio’s regular booth at the back of the diner. “Have a seat right here and I’ll take care of youse, okay? Be right back with some water. Oh, and take a good look at the menu. We made some changes!”
Alex leans against the cushion and shows off a gorgeous smile. “Sweet boy? Wow. That’s quite the fan club you’ve got, Mr. Moretti.”
“You jealous? Or are you thinking about joining?” Antonio asks impulsively. That was definitely not something he should have asked.
Alex only scoffs and looks down at her menu. “You should be so lucky.”
He presses his lips together, and Maria returns with four glasses, two shorter ones of which contain a blood-red concoction. “And these” —she sets them all down— “are Leo Shooters. It’s just whiskey and cranberry juice.”
Alex wastes no time downing the entire shot. “That was tasty, thank you!”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it!” Maria gently shouts back. “I’ll be back for your order in just a sec.”
Antonio drinks his own shooter and gazes at Alex while she peruses the menu. This really shouldn’t feel as pleasant as it does. As natural as it does. Like a…date. Which is exactly what Antonio was afraid of. He doesn’t go on many of them, but when he does, he does everything in his power to make the woman feel like she doesn”t want to be anywhere else but with him. He draws the focus off him completely, asks her questions and makes hersmile. Then, it’d be completely up to her how they end the night, though the odds were usually in his favor.
With Alex, it’s dangerous to hear her talk. Watch her smile. It”s like she’s made entirely of liquid gold. He’s hardwired to want a woman like that in his bed. Or to want to be in hers.
So no asking. No smiling.
Yeah. Good luck with that.
Unfortunately, and unsurprisingly, Alex is just fine sparking up conversation on her own. Antonio doesn’t want to be a total asshole, so he responds. And she doesn’t just ask the predictable questions like what his hobbies are, or what’s his favorite food, movie, color, animal, place he’s ever been to.
Alex asks things like, “When’s the last time you laughed? Like really, really, tears-falling-from-your-eyes, wish-you-could-bottle-the-shit-up kind of laughter?”
Antonio’s fork scrapes off the last remnants of marinara sauce. “I…don’t think I’ve ever had that kind of laugh.”
“Thought so.”
“Then why’d you ask?”
Alex smiles a bit weakly and shrugs. “Just wanted to know.”
“If you say so. I’ll be right back.”
Antonio gets up from the table, passes Maria and her weird grin, and heads to the bathroom. He glances at the new wall art while washing his hands. Somewhere under the layers of various types of marker is his own seventeen-year-old handiwork.
“what kind of lemonade can you make with just lemons?”
It’s a squiggly-lined personification of his apathy, although ironically he wrote it to appear cool to the boys he hung around when he was a teenager.
He makes a beeline for the kitchen and quiets his footsteps, approaching a man peeling onions. A fan flaps a green and white bandana against his deep-brown skin, and he taps his left foot in a mellow tempo. Antonio smacks his palms on his back, and in turn, gets an elbow to his stomach.
“Damn, Duke!”
“Mr. Moretti, I think you know better than to approach another man like that. You’re lucky that’s all ya got.” What Duke lacks in height, he makes up for with his cool, bass voice. Antonio has always been a little jealous.
“Why are you still calling me Mr. Moretti, Duke? It’s weird.”
“It’s a sign of respect.”
“Respectfully, I insist you call me Antonio.”
“Fine, Mr. Antonio.”
Antonio cuts his eyes. “Food was great, as always.”
“I know. I’m more interested in hearing about your pretty friend out there, though.”
“She’s a little young for you, but I guess it couldn’t hurt to ask if she’s into that kind of thing.” Another elbow flies towards Antonio’s chest. This time, he avoids it.
“You might have been able to dodge that, but you ain’t dodging my question.”
“I didn’t hear a question.”
“Who is that young lady out there?”
“Alex. She’s an employee.”
“I don’t recall you looking at any other employee like that.”
Antonio grabs a napkin and bends over to pick up a piece of sliced onion and toss it into a nearby trash can. He runs his tongue along the top of his teeth before leaning against one of the ceiling’s support beams. “I finally get the chance to come see you guys, and you spy on me?”
“Maybe if you stopped by more often, I wouldn’t be so curious about your new employee.”
“I don’t see what difference that’d make, Duke. She’s new. So she’d have still shown up one day and you’d have still not known who she was. And I can only come when I can come.”
“Boy, you sure still know how to talk loud without saying much, huh? Get out of my damn kitchen. I guess I’ll see you again whenever you feel like it.”
So much for respect. Antonio laughs and offers one final (and this time, approved) pat on Duke’s back, and strolls back to his table. Maria slides out of the booth after practically yelling at Alex what a gem she is.
“What took you so long?” Alex asks.
“I was talking to Duke. He says hi.” Antonio gestures to where Duke stands in the kitchen, and as his eyes drift to their booth, Alex waves.
“I thought you might have fallen in the toilet.”
Maria howls.
“That wasn’t even funny,” Antonio grumbles.
“It wasn’t my best, I’ll admit,” Alex says. “But I’m not about to listen to someone who has the sense of humor of a pebble.”
“My goodness, Alex. I hope I see you again. Youse are welcome any time, with or without Antonio.” Maria grins. “But I hope it’s with, alright? Have a good one, you two!” She twirls away, drawing Antonio’s attention to the bubbles crackling in Alex’s cup of something.
He waits a beat before yanking his neck in the direction of the door, and she joins in his lazy preparation to exit into a refreshing breeze.
Alex giggles.
“What?”
“I was thinking about something Maria said.”
“And what did Maria say?”
Alex uses a fingernail to hook a piece of hair stuck to her lips. “What didn’t she say? That woman loves you. She’s great.”
Antonio’s mouth starts moving without permission from his brain. “I know. When I was younger, sometimes I’d run away from home only to end up at Duke and Maria’s. They looked out for me. They’d feed me, listen to me complain, and then send me on my way. You already know Donny was—wasn’t the best. And my Ma, let’s say she struggled. And so did I. When I got older and took over the club, I found out some dickhead was trying to kick Duke and Maria out of the neighborhood by raising the rent. But Duke’s meant a lot to a lot of people. It still does. I couldn’t just let it get destroyed.”
“So you bought it.”
He shrugs. “It belongs to Duke and Maria.”
“…Because you bought it outright for them, though.” Alex gestures back to the red awning. “It’s namedLeo’s!”
“Because that’s what they wanted to rename it. Either way, keep that to yourself. Everybody else just thinks I gave ‘em enough to get out of a hole and that they were just trying to show some gratitude. I don’t need anybody thinking I’m…”
“What?”
More than I am.
But, “Nothing. Never mind,” is what he says out loud.
“Okay…” Alex frowns, but only for a few seconds. “Hey, are there any good places to get ice cream near here?”
Antonio could have just shared a few suggestions and gone about his way, but he feels responsible for making sure Alex gets back to her car safely. So when she requests a ride, he tags along to a dessert shop near the “super-secret spot.” They each get a cup of ice cream before walking to the riverbank, where they swing on the hammock, immune to the rest of the world.
“I wish I could come here every night.” Alex exhales. “Or at least every time it’s nice like this.”
“I used to. Hadn’t been in years. Honestly, when I brought you here the first time, I had no idea how it would look. As you noticed, it’s not exactly a part of the grounds.”
“Why’d you stop?”
Antonio laughs sadly. “I have no idea. When you think about it, that’s how life works. One day you just…stop. And it becomes the last time you’ve ever done it.”
“Wow.”
“Sorry. That was—kinda dark.”
Alex shakes her head. “No. I get it. You’re right. That’s exactly how it works.”
“Yeah…”
“You know, if we’re keeping track, that wasn’t anywhere near as dark as some of the thoughts I’ve had. It was so bad at one point, I was in therapy for a while.” Alex sighs again, letting her hands fall to her lap, though still cradling her cup.
“Talking to some doc made ‘em less dark?”
“Not…exactly. That’s part of it. But trying to force myself to think differently isn’t really ideal. They…helped me manage them, I guess.”
“So is that the real reason you’re so…”
She looks at him. “So what?”
“So optimistic all the time?” Antonio mutters, staring at the bouncing river. “It’s exhausting, but sometimes it’s nice.”
“Huh. I guess. Some people think therapy is a cure—something you do once or for a little bit like antibiotics, and then you’re done. And if anxiety and depression weren’t fickle-ass bitches, then yeah, I guess therapy could be like that. But they are fickle-ass bitches, so it usually can’t. I just try to be…present. Take the good when it comes.”
“Hm.”
“Another thing I’ve learned,” Alex continues, “is that our physical appearance doesn’t always match what’s going on inside. It’s easier to fake it than unload what you’re really feeling on someone else and make them uncomfortable.”
“Don’t do that with me,” Antonio says calmly. He doesn’t have to see Alex to know how shocked she probably looks, though he gets a hint from his peripheral. “I’m just saying, I’m not…someone you have to worry about doing that for. You shouldn’t get so caught up in being the light for everyone else that you don’t have enough for yourself. You could do with being selfish sometimes.”
Her laugh seems subdued. “Light? That’s how you see me? That doesn’t sound like the Antonio I know.”
Me either. Every moment Antonio spends with Alex, he learns something new about the woman. She’s as strange as the day they met. An intelligent, audacious, smart-ass, who’s also delicate and gracious. She keeps him on his toes, but he can’t afford to lose his balance. “It must be all this sugar.” He snaps with his right hand. “Quick, tell me a joke.”
“Uh…what did the ocean say to the beach?”
Antonio cringes. “Oh, never mind. That cured me already.”
“No!” Alex laughs. “You have to follow through now!”
He sighs. “What did it say?”
“Nothing—it just waved. Get it? Heh, classic.”
“I want my money back,” Antonio says after a few seconds of silence. Alex lifts her arm as if to pluck him, but he grabs her hand and his eyebrows droop. “Why the hell does it feel like that?”
“Like what?”
“So cold.”
“I mean, I am anemic. But also, I was holding a cold-ass thing of ice cream?”
Their spoons clatter around the rims of the cups as Antonio sets them on the grass. “You serious? Why didn’t you say something?” The hammock sways as he shifts to sandwich her palm between his hands.
“Ah, yes, I forgot. The employee handbook did say to mention your red blood cell deficiency before you turn in your tax forms. I think it was right after the item on star signs.”
“Why do you always have to be a smart ass?”
Alex’s nostrils flare. “Why do you always have to be so confusing? ‘Cuz seriously, Antonio, I have no idea how to take you. I mean, we’re sitting here, alone, at one of the most romantically beautiful spots I’ve ever been to, which makes it feel like a date–”
Aw, fuck. Antonio closes his eyes and exhales.
“–so now I’m in this weird space where I really want to kiss you right now, but I don’t think I should, because—”
“No, you shouldn’t.” He releases her, and Alex stares ahead before flipping her hair behind her shoulder, then hopping up from the hammock. “Where are you going?”
“Back to the club so I can get my car and go home.”
“Alex.”
“It’s fine, Antonio,” she says, walking back towards the street. Her backpack furiously flaps against her calf.
“Alex!” Antonio catches her in no time, grabbing one of her hands again and pressing his body against hers. He hears her bag drop to the ground. “I am not the guy for you.” He turns her with a spin fit for a ballroom and drops his hands to just beneath her waist, pulling her closer. “The only reason I agreed for us to work together is because I want to protect you. To make sure nothing like what happened with Komarov goes down again. But we…don’t make sense.”
“Maybe so, but are you telling me I’m crazy?” She grabs the lapels of his coat, but doesn’t look at him. “That I’m just imagining there’s something here? Sensible or not?”
Antonio presses their foreheads together. “No, you’re not imagining anything.”
If Alex were anyone else, Antonio would have acted on the something a long time ago. But she’s not anyone else; she’s Charlie Fox. Knowing that is the one thing that makes her both off-limits and someone he needs to keep close. It’s his duty to keep her safe. But as Alex’s hand slips around his neck, her thumb resting in the hollow between his collarbone, Antonio feels helpless. Those fingers aren’t what he felt moments ago. Now they’re blazing, and at the same time tender, but most of all…distracting. Convincing.
Almost.
It takes everything in him not to back her against the tree, taste her lips and find out if they’re as tempting as they look. Find out how much of that ass of hers he can fit in his palms. Maybe even get a sneak peek of what lies between her thighs.
But then what? Detach like he usually does?
“You’ve gotta…ignore this. Please,” Antonio says, talking to himself as well.
Alex bows her head. “Okay.” She steps back and slings her book bag over her shoulders, and Antonio hears a sniffle as she pivots, her feet rustling in the grass back to the public area.