19. Antonio
Antonio shuts off his computer after a cruelly long virtual meeting with Morex’s board. There’s some dissension on next steps for the hotel, which they haven’t even acquired, yet. The auction was postponed until August, giving people time to lose their minds, apparently.
Stu, the Vice-Chair—who, unlike Gary, sometimes says sensible things, decided to go against the grain, because Gary was unable to attend today. Stu wanted to make sure they were “using this extra time wisely and ensuring everyone’s voices were heard”. Starting with his idea to outsource the most diverse group of contractors possible. It would have been a great suggestion, had Stu done some research. Instead, all he brought were flowery words, leaving a wide open space for deliberation of meritocracy and socialism.
Everyone’s voices were heard, alright. And this is why day-to-day decisions aren’t left to board members.
Antonio looks at his watch and sucks his teeth; he’s late for today’s debriefing. After locking his office, he heads to the comms room and pulls the door open slightly, and it sounds like someone got started without him.
“—smells like flowers, people are asking me if I ate… I mean what the hell even is this place, now? Just because he’s letting Mary Poppins turn him into a bitch, doesn’t mean—”
“Dude!”
“Nah, let him finish, Makeo.” Antonio enters the room completely and cracks his knuckles. “Actually, everybody out, so Pete and I can have a little check-in.” He waits for the shuffling to cease, and rolls up his sleeves. Mary Poppins, huh? Is that the one with the umbrella? “Can I ask what brought about these strong feelings of yours?”
Pete’s brown-green eyes are solid with grit. “Makeo and I were out on a run. This is the fourth time in two weeks he’s given someone an extension. Our job is to collect. If people can’t pay, that’s not our problem. They gotta figure it out like the rest of us.”
“And that’s because of Alex?”
“Yeah. He flat out said he’s taking her lead on how to be more compassionate, like we’re distributing care packages or something. And it’s not like we’re even charging that much.”
He has a point; it’s not like they’re selling the hard stuff anymore. Truth be told, Pete sounds a lot like Antonio would have when he was his age. But there are a lot of lessons he’s learned since then. “You know Pete, one thing I appreciate is that you never sugarcoat things. Also, you are strong, fearless, quick to react—all things I’m sure you’ve learned in the ring.”
Pete glares as Antonio walks behind him, calm and slow. “What are you—”
Antonio puts a finger up to his lips. “I’m still talking.” He slams Pete’s cheek on the table and pulls an arm back. “The thing about being quick to react? That means you don’t use your brain like you should. If you have a problem with how things are run, then you bring it up to me and not the entire damn club. What’s your record in the ring?”
“What?”
“I asked you what your record was.”
“S-Seventeen and six.”
“So, twenty-three matches in the last two years.”
“Why are you asking me that?” Pete grumbles, his cheek still glued to the table.
“I’m trying to figure out what kind of future you would have if I fired your ass. Because I know you’re here for your mom. But the way you are now? You’re a liability. And see…the old-me would make an example of you. But not this bitch-me you’re so concerned with. So who should I be right now, huh?” He presses down and hears a low groan. “I’m asking.” Antonio pulls back on Pete’s arm even harder, causing him to yelp. “A word of advice: a man who’s not afraid to speak his mind is admirable, but one who knows when to shut the hell up is better. So you’d better start using this hard-ass head of yours just as much as you do your mouth or your fists. Because if you ever disrespect Alex, me, or the way I operate ever again, I’ll choose for you. Understood?”
“Fuck! Yeah, I understand.”
“If you ever need a reminder of what Mary Poppins brings to the table, remember the time she saved your arm.” Antonio slowly releases his grip. “I would say you should thank her, but I want you to keep staying the fuck away from Alex.”
Pete nods and winces. Antonio does the same as a vision of the future plagues him, so he passes off the debrief to Gio and goes right back to his office.
The knocks he hears about an hour later don’t come as a shock. He closes his eyes and listens to a thud on the couch, and soon, fingers rake his hair.
“I heard it was a good thing I was late, today,” Alex says.
Antonio pulls her onto his lap, needing to feel the softness of her skin…the goosebumps from where he touches her. Not the tension of the pain he inflicted earlier.
Alex’s kiss on his cheek provides him with some of that relief.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not me you owe an apology to, Leo. I get he didn’t handle things the best way, but still. He’s nineteen.”
“So, what? I should feel sorry for him and let him keep talking shit with no consequences?”
“A consequence doesn’t necessarily mean discipline.” Alex picks up Antonio’s chin so that their eyes are level. “You know…in the beginning, I always wondered how a man like Ivan could have so many people working with him. But then I saw the truth. Nobody works with Ivan. They’re all just chess pieces he collects and moves around to his benefit. And if you’ve got people doing exactly what you want, how and when you want, it’ll look like you’ve got everything under control. Like you’ve got loyal soldiers. But the thing is, loyalty can look a lot like fear. And fear can push people to do a lot of things. For Ivan, that usually just meant a” –she clears a piece of hair from her face– “temporary inconvenience. But you’re not him. And these people aren’t your pawns, they’re your team.”
Antonio slumps his shoulders. Pete was right. prism is not the same prism it was two months ago. Or even thirty days ago. Alex is the impetus behind almost every notable change. Before her, Antonio couldn’t have cared less about team spirit, or abiding by some virtuous code of conduct. Nowadays, Alex makes him reassess the club’s ethos. While she’s here, he wants her to feel comfortable. “I’ll…talk to him later, alright?”
Alex pecks Antonio’s cheek again, and he clasps his hands tighter around her waist. “You want a distraction?”
He looks up pointedly. “Did you have something in mind?”
“Oooh, buckle up, buddy. So, on Thursday, Ben and I were walking to happy hour, and he was telling me one of his cousins practically set the world on fire by declaring that his family wouldn’t be celebrating Three Kings’ Day anymore. He and his wife are about to have a baby.”
Not the distraction I was thinking, gorgeous. “Alright… And what’s Three Kings’ Day?”
“I’m not entirely sure, I just know it’s like a continuation of Christmas for those who celebrate it under the religious context. And kids get gifts.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah.” She wipes at the tacky spot on his face. “The whole thing caused a rift between the generations. Hopefully, they can work it out. But anyway, Ben and I get to talking about Santa, and I was basically saying that I was glad my parents didn’t let me believe in that stuff. And what are the odds some lady and her kids would be all up on me when I said it? So she yells at me about how thoughtless I am, and how I destroyed Christmas.”
“Because you never believed in Santa?”
“Well…I may have used the terms ‘bullshit’ and ‘creepy-ass serial burglar’ at one point.”
Antonio snorts. “Of course you did.”
She sticks her tongue out. “The fictional character is fine. It’s the perpetuation of this falsehood that behaving will get you everything you want. Imagine being this little kid who hears your classmates talking about all the shit they got from Santa, while you got nothing. I get tradition is hard to break, but it’s really something we should move away from. Why would you knowingly put your child through that?”
“You and I both know most people don’t even consider all that.”
“Yeah, that’s the problem.” Alex sighs and rests her head on his shoulder. “Did you believe in Santa?”
“We didn’t even really celebrate Christmas like that.”
“Are you serious?!”
“You know my family wasn’t—”
“Right. Sorry.”
“Things got better once Luca and Yuri came along.”
“I’m glad. Thanks for humbling me.”
Antonio doesn’t get what Alex means right away, but then it clicks. She is literally the only person on this planet who can get him to talk about something like the concept of privilege. It’s never a topic on its own, but a natural derivative of some difference in their upbringing. It’s sometimes overt, like how they view money and socioeconomic status, or, like today, it’s less obvious, like whether or not they were able to enjoy a holiday.
“Before I forget, I have something to ask you.” Antonio slides a hand over her thighs, partially to turn Alex on, but mostly so she doesn’t fall when he reaches under his desk. “Your hair smells good.”
“Aww, thanks, boo. What’s up?” Her silly pet name makes his heart hop.
Antonio retrieves a shiny, black gift bag and hands it to Alex. Her eyes probe him for an explanation before she stuffs her hand in and pulls out a backpack with a koala keychain.
Alex cups her mouth and lets out a hog-like laugh. “This—” she gasps. “This is so…” Antonio feels disappointment knocking, but Alex shakes her head and taps his chest, her laughter receding. “I love it.”
His muscles loosen. “Yeah?”
“Yeah! I counted like ten pockets already!”
Yes, so you don’t have to jam everything in there like the one you have now. “Did you look in the front one?” Antonio reaches into the pouch and pulls out a black scarf.
Alex’s fingers glide along to unravel the fabric and expose the silver plate engraved with the same Leaf Village symbol tattooed on her wrist. “Oh my God, is this satin? Wow.” Alex knots the scarf around her temples. “How do I look?” She poses, angling her fingertips under her chin.
“Like the ultimate nerd. A gorgeous one, though.”
“You say it as if the two are mutually exclusive. But thank you. So…why does it feel like I’m being bribed?”
Antonio fakes a frown. “And here I thought you’d be excited.”
“Excited for what?”
“There’s this Summer Ball next weekend—an annual charity event that the Morettis have been going to for…” He whistles. “Feels like forever. It’s never been my favorite thing, but it’s especially important to go and maintain Morex’s visibility. I usually just end up rubbing elbows and counting the minutes until I get out of there. But…I’m hoping you’ll go with me this time. And after…” He tucks a braid behind Alex’s ear.
“After?”
“After, we can do whatever you want.”
She smiles, but it’s brief. “Is it just me, or does it sound like we’re scheduling when to have sex for the first time?”
Antonio lifts an eyebrow. “Is that what you want?”
“Sex? Or scheduling it?” Alex laughs quietly. “I think we’ve been tap dancing around it. Or maybe just I was. First I thought it might have been too soon. Then I blamed it on the Ghost stuff, like maybe us not immediately telling you affected you more than you said. But now I feel like I should just admit that I’m nervous.”
He could have guessed as much. It’s not exactly shyness that he’s sensed, but an instinct that there’s a struggle in wanting her head and body to be on the same page. A tug of her ear, her eyebrows or nose wrinkling in thought even for a split second, that forged laugh when he knows exactly what the real one sounds like. There’s been plenty of times Antonio thinks he’s heard what she said without her actually saying anything.
It’s sounded like, “I want to, but…”
Until there’s no “but” in that sentence, he won’t press her for anything further. So when he says they can do whatever she wants, he means it. He’s operating under her rules, her timeline.
He cups her chin, and his thumb traces her lower lip. “No pressure, gorgeous.”
Alex shakes her head. “No, I’m excited. Let’s ink it in.”