18. Antonio
Antonio smudges his office windowpane as he breathes out his thoughts. He’s never exactly calm during a major club event, but tonight’s Memorial Day party is exceptionally intense.
Last night, he was expecting a shipment of liquor that never arrived. He personally made the call to hear the reason, and according to the representative, there was no record of purchase. At that moment, Antonio didn’t have the luxury to wonder how or why it happened, but today, he’s firing someone.
Down below, things are returning to order. The flow of bottles, boxes, and balloons from one end of the lobby to another trickles off, as most of the preparation concludes, thanks to his quick pivoting.
As long as everyone does the job he pays them for, Antonio should be able to enjoy the rest of the night with Alex at his side.
This bubble they’re living in has been a…surprise. Occasionally switching off his hypersensitive urge to assess and react has let Antonio understand the appeal of doing this kind of thing on a regular basis, if only a little.
“Special delivery.”
Antonio turns to Gio and his fifth stack of papers of the day. “You’re gonna give me carpal tunnel again. Can’t you sign this stuff?”
“I took care of what I could. But you need something to do while you wait for Alex, apparently.”
Antonio gestures for the papers, knowing better than to offer up any further response. Every time he tries to clarify or rebut his recent choices, thoughts, or statements regarding Alex, he ends up giving Gio more material for his routine.
Sure, the car was a bit of a drastic gift, and yes, it does look similar to Antonio’s, which has been good to him for three years now. Alex’s is the same make, different model, because what else should Antonio have based his decision on besides his personal experience? It had nothing to do with this “his and hers” nonsense as Gio suggested.
And maybe, if the comms room wasn’t filled to the brim with testosterone, Antonio wouldn’t have felt the need to transform the empty storage space across the hall into an office for Alex. If Antonio’s reasoning was to see her whenever he wanted without an audience, he would have simply made space for her in his own.
He knows the truth, so he lets Gio have his fun for now.
Antonio reads, signs and passes the documents back.
“You coming down soon?” Gio asks, securing them with a paperclip.
“Yeah, right behind you.”
Antonio prepares to do his initial walkthrough, starting with a pep talk to the security team. Usually something like “fuck up and you’re fired” works, but maybe he’ll throw in a “good evening”, this time. When he and Gio step out, Nathan and Alex are right there, looking extremely suspicious.
“Why the hell do you look like that?” Antonio asks rather bluntly.
“Good morning to you too, grumpy pants,” Alex retorts. “We…need to talk.”
Gio flaps the clip of papers. “I’ll get a head start for you,” he says, before taking off down the stairs.
Alex passes Antonio nonchalantly while Nathan’s eyes flit around.
Every citizen as far as upstate New York probably hears him swallow as he props his laptop open and sets it on Antonio’s desk. “So… Back in March, I started getting these anonymous, threatening messages and calls. They said if I didn’t start sending money to them, they would expose me. Well, not just me, everyone who works in the club. I didn’t believe them at first. But then…then they—”
“They? Who the fuck is they? What did you do, Nathan?”
“I’ve been funneling money into a fake company called Rainier Corp,” Nathan stammers.
Antonio glares. “You’ve been stealing from me, is what you’re saying.”
“Yes, but I swear, I didn’t have a choice. They threatened my family. They knew where Moira worked, what doctor we went to… Here, look.” Nathan unhooks a black bracelet and hurriedly shoves it into the side of his laptop. After some clicking and tapping, a folder of numerous texts, pictures, and emails from an unknown number and the highlighted transactions of the money pops up. It looks like it came mostly from the underside of the club’s revenue. “We were calling him Ghost at first.”
“We?” Antonio glances at Alex. “We. Of course.”
“Alex was working over time to help me fix this.”
“And that is why I’m here, isn’t it?” she asks, before sitting in a chair.
Actually, when Antonio “hired” Alex, this is the opposite of the kind of work he wanted her to encounter. But as she starts talking about her technical process, she sounds brilliant and capable and…confusing. “English, Alex.”
“Oh, in koala terms?” she asks with a straight face.
Goddamnit. Antonio uses the air surfacing in his diaphragm to force out a grunt instead of a laugh.
“Basically, I was able to trace one of the email addresses. It was used in Baltimore to scam a retired teacher. Which told me we were probably dealing with someone who had nothing better to do.”
Antonio crosses his arms. “Probably?”
“His name is Michael Peirce. He’s a twenty-year-old in the middle of his junior year. I’ve been there. When you first learn about all the shit you can do with a keyboard, you try it. Of course, not all of us go this route, but I…made sure he understood the potential consequences.” Alex looks at Nathan.
“The reason we didn’t tell you right away is because we wanted to make sure we were solid on a solution,” Nathan says. “We’ve spent the last few weeks fortifying everything and scrubbing any traces of what could be used against us. And we haven’t heard from Peirce since.”
Alex nods. “We’re keeping an eye on him, though.”
“Hm.”
She rolls her eyes.
“You can leave now,” Antonio says.
“I—yeah, okay.” Nathan collects his computer.
“Not you. Alex.”
“What? Why? I—”
“Nathan and I just need to have a little chat.” To make sure he understands the potential consequences.
“Leo.”
Alex’s eyes tunnel into him, drilling away his outer shell of confidence. That vulnerability is highly uncomfortable to someone who’s used to being the opposite.
Antonio didn’t become that way by chance; he watched, listened, and dissected every transaction he could from a young age. From Donny’s masterful negotiations, to Maria’s artful procurement of double to triple-digit tips on even the lowest of bills, to Duke’s calm but steely command in his kitchen, Antonio saw both the good and bad of being a boss. He took what he learned and flipped the bootleg drug ring he inherited into a virtually legitimate enterprise.
He has an entire empire under his thumb, and yet, here he stands, flustered, unsure, and inarticulate. All because of one gorgeous woman and her bubble. But business is business.
“Alex, I’m…not asking,” Antonio says. “And close the door, please.”
Her eyelids twitch and widen, but she leaves, albeit without urgency.
Antonio turns his attention to Nathan and takes a deep breath, making his voice chillingly quiet. “I would have expected all this from her. But not you.”
“I know. I’m sor—”
“I’m not finished.”
Nathan looks at the walls.
“If you ever keep something like this from me again—I don’t give a shit how many kids you have on the way. I’ll make sure you—” Antonio cracks his neck and pictures Alex. She didn’t really leave the room after all. Her image stops him from finishing his warning so graphically. “Let this be the last time it ever happens.”
“O-Of course.”
“Out.”
Nathan’s exit is completely different from Alex’s. He scrambles like his life depends on it.
Antonio sits on the edge of his desk and chews on his cheek.
…Ghost? Really?