15. Antonio
Aw , fuck.
Antonio takes another glance at the last two text messages in his phone. Maybe he’s dreaming or hallucinating.
STEFANIE:A Mr. Eric Agneau is here to see you. Send him up?
ANTONIO:Thanks. No, I’ll be down in a few minutes.
Antonio drags himself to the window. Down below, there is Eric Agneau, stroking his mustache and rotating his head from wall to wall. Like a guardian angel, Evren and his cart roll over, and the two men exchange a handshake, giving Antonio more time to compose himself.
He doesn’t have much experience meeting fathers of—actually, full stop. He doesn’t have much experience. And considering the last time they saw each other was totally by coincidence, Antonio has to wonder what Alex may have said to make Eric come here. They seemed close, so it wouldn’t surprise Antonio if Alex’s father knew a great deal.
He prepares himself for as much and dawdles down to the lobby, clearing his throat to catch his visitor’s attention. “Mr. Agneau.”
Evren dismisses himself with a wave.
“Mr. Moretti.” Eric smiles and extends his hand.
“Antonio, please.” Antonio accepts the motion before guiding him to the office. “Uh, we do have an elevator, if you’d rather—”
“Stairs are fine, but thank you. Us gents have to keep in shape, ha!” Eric pats his round belly.
Well…I see where she gets it from.
After the one-liner, it’s a stiff walk up the staircase, but they finally reach their destination, sitting in the chairs like robots.
“What can I do for you?”
Eric turns serious. “It’s not me I’m here for. But I think you know that already.”
“Yes. Though either way, if you let me know whatever it is you’re looking for, I’m sure this conversation will go much faster.”
“Are you in a rush?”
Antonio laughs uncomfortably. “Not at all. But with all due respect, I just don’t think it’s necessary for either of us to waste our time.”
“Fair enough. Alex recently shared some interesting things with her mother and me.”
How interesting?
“I’m very surprised you told her the truth.”
So am I.
“And, I’m very sorry to hear you witnessed such a tragedy as a young boy.”
Another apology from another innocent person. “It was twenty-seven years ago, Mr. Agneau, but I appreciate you saying so. However, all due respect again, I’d also really appreciate if you tell me why we’re here.”
Eric’s nostrils flare, but he otherwise maintains a calm appearance. “It’s more than business between the two of you. Don’t worry,” he says, after Antonio’s eyes widen a bit. “Alex didn’t say it outright, but her mother and I know better. Normally, I would never insert myself like this, but…far too often I’ve sat by because I thought it best to let her navigate her life as she chooses. But my biggest failures as a father have been finding too late that I should have stepped in sooner. So, what are your intentions? Are you Alex’s salvation, or is she your redemption?”
Antonio’s eyebrows crumple. The answer is neither.
Or perhaps, if he’s being honest, one of them could be true. Securing Alex’s early release from the grip of Ivan Komarov gave Antonio a sense of atonement. It’s since vanished, as the reality is, she would have eventually released herself. Furthermore, how could he claim credit for stepping in so late to undo events his family set in motion?
Antonio closes his eyes briefly before speaking. “I know I don’t have to tell you the kind of person your daughter is. How brave…and kind she is. You would think, knowing all that, I’d then trust her judgment on deciding whether I fit in her life. I don’t, though. I do want to protect her. But she doesn’t need rescuing. And she can’t…absolve me of anything. Not really. Not without…”
Dimming that light of hers.
“Antonio, I’m glad the Alex you know is one of strength and inspiration. She wasn’t always like that, though. There was a time when none of us knew if or when she would come out of that darkness.”
It’s strange, Antonio doesn’t recognize the look on Eric’s face. The look a father has when he’s concerned for his child. He’s only ever seen disappointment. Wrath. Occasionally, depraved satisfaction.
“I can only imagine,” he says. “But that’s why we made sure she’s done with Komarov.”
The chair whines as Eric leans on the right arm. “It’s not only him I’m referring to.”
Hm. James. “She…hasn’t been up to telling me the full story there.”
“Then it’s not my place to do so. But if my instincts are correct, I’m sure you’ll know soon enough.” Eric rubs his forehead. “My priority is my daughter’s safety and happiness. But I know even as her father, I can’t guarantee that. And I don’t know what the future holds for you two. So…my question to you, Antonio Moretti, is for however long you are going to be in Alex’s life, will you do everything in your power to grant her those things?”
That sounds a lot like protecting her, so…
“Yes.”
Eric stands and presents his hand. “Then when we meet again, I’m sure it’ll be under better circumstances. You can call me Eric, then.
Against his better judgment, later that day, Antonio decided to join Frankie, some of the Sogno staff, and a few of the prism crew at a baseball game. Thanks to one of Sogno’s regulars, they don’t have to sit with the general population; they have a suite with a perfect view of the diamond.
Antonio watches the men hop from the bar to the stadium seats outside and back, like children. Like…Frankie, the sole occasion Donny Moretti took his sons to a baseball game. They came to a private section of the stadium, just like this. And while his brother enjoyed hot dogs smothered in mustard and ketchup, Antonio thought it strange the two men sitting with his father were total strangers. Total strangers that didn’t even stay for a full inning. They talked and nodded, shook hands, and left. It was beyond shady, but still one of the few pleasant memories of Donny, which isn’t saying much at all.
“What the— It was right in front of your face, bro! What a knucklehead,” Frankie grumbles.
There’s a symphony of jeers as the ball rolls along the green and over to a wall of advertisements. Makeo shakes his head and comes inside to stand by Antonio at the high top tables.
“You with us, boss? You’ve spent half the game in here.”
“I’m good.”
“…It’s Alex, isn’t it?” Makeo taps the table. “I know we’re not like, best buds or anything, but I’m gonna say what I gotta say anyway, ‘cuz my mom taught me to speak up when I see a friend who needs me. You gotta let go of whatever you’re holding on to in there. Clear your mind. Let peace in. Then you can let love in, you know?”
Of all people.“I…appreciate the advice.”
“You appreciate the advice?” Frankie hollers. “What was in that beer?!”
Makeo smiles and pats Antonio on the back before heading to the bathroom.
“Francesco, why don’t you go tell the announcer you want his job? Clearly you need something to do.”
“And miss hearing you act like some high school kid over Alex? Yeah, right. This is more entertaining than anything else I could be doing.”
“Is that why you asked me to come? ‘Cuz I’m not in the mood to argue.”
“Well, that’s a relief, because there shouldn’t be an argument.” Frankie takes a breath and sits next to Antonio. “I joke, sure. But you think I don’t want to help you get past this? She knows the worst thing, and she’s still around. What does that tell ya?”
That she’s lost her mind.
“Tell me what you’re really afraid of, brother.”
Antonio cracks his knuckles and looks out at the balcony where the rest of the men are.
“They aren’t paying us any mind. C’mon. Be straight with me.”
Frankie was right, the moment does feel very juvenile. His pestering is reminiscent of the times he used to beg Antonio to help him sneak a bottle from behind the bar at Pinnacle, or when he would ask for help with his homework, but when it got too hard, he’d plead for his older brother to do it for him “just one more time”. However, if there is one facet of life Frankie has an advantage, Antonio has to admit it’s with relationships.
“It’s not fear,” he says roughly. “It’s fucking Donny, alright?” All Antonio ever hears is how much he’s like him. From the board. From colleagues. From his mother. If a situation ever truly called for it, he knows he’d revert to his old ways in a heartbeat. And when that happens? “It’s only a matter of time before history will repeat itself. Not literally, but somehow, I’ll keep the cycle going and end up destroying Alex. I can’t put her through that. I can’t be her fairy-tale prince.”
“Is that what she said she wanted? ‘Cuz she doesn’t really strike me as the damsel in distress type.”
Because she isn’t. Alex isn’t helpless, or vindictive. She is riveting, wreaking havoc in Antonio’s mind every day. Making him feel like the platitudinous moth to her glow, even recently, when they’ve both surely tried to keep their distance. Still…
“Ay, all I’m saying is, get out of your head a little, alright? Let yourself enjoy whatever’s happening between you. And if it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out.” Frankie leans in. “A little birdie told me her birthday is on Saturday. Good opportunity to make up, if you know what I mean.”