Chapter 5
FRANKIE
It’s difficult to focus on my studies when all I’m thinking about is Sofia.
Where has she been all my life? I try to remember ever having felt like this about a girl, but I can’t.
Even Marlena, before she married my father, didn’t evoke this kind of response in me.
I thought she was pretty, sure, but not like Sofia.
Thank goodness my father can only get married once.
He can’t steal Sofia from me the same way he stole Marlena.
I have to laugh at that thought. My father isn’t out there trying to steal all the women in my life.
I’m over Marlena. I like her as a person, and while I don’t really think of her like my stepmother, she’s more like a sister.
She’s someone I care about, but there aren’t any lingering romantic overtones. It’s better that way.
But Sofia…
I imagine running my fingers through her hair. I bet it’s soft as a feather and smells like strawberries too. Lost in recollection, I picture her eyes, her beautiful red lips, and her sweet button nose. I chuckle and shake my head, a shake. I’ve got it bad.
After unrolling the laptop cord, plugging it in and selecting the library’s free wi-fi, all I can do is stare at the screen. The annoying hypothetical question that I’m supposed to be working on seems like it’s written in Latin. I can’t understand it. All I can think about is her.
So, I close my laptop, unplug everything, and pack it away.
I’m feeling incredibly unmotivated, so I decide to go to a bar for an early beer.
I throw my things into the car and drive away, skipping the nearest place where my father’s employees hang out.
All the way downtown, I go to one of the fancier restaurants.
There, I assume no one will notice me, but that does not go entirely according to plan.
“Frankie!” someone shouts the moment I enter.
I turn around, and it’s Michael Smith, one of the businessmen on my father’s payroll. I can’t exactly remember what he does for the family. I think he launders money. Either way, I’m not interested in talking to him.
But I know I can’t be rude. My father’s business is built on reputation, and I’m part of the family. That means I always need to be thinking about what I say, what I do, and how I look. I was hoping to escape all that and just enjoy a beer in private, but Smith is on his way over. I’m trapped.
“Hey, Mike,” I respond.
“How’s school going?” he asks, pulling up a barstool next to me.
“Fine,” I say, keeping my answer short in the hope he will go away. “I graduated.”
“Congratulations,” he replies. “Let me buy you a beer.”
“I’m actually on my way out,” I lie.
“Nonsense,” he scoffs. “You just got here. At least have one drink with me.”
“All right,” I agree.
I let him buy me a beer, and we sit and talk about my father, mostly. Smith knows that I’m not really into all the things my father does. It’s also not the place to get into sensitive matters, so we keep it light.
“Remember that party at your father’s place about a year ago?” Smith asks.
“Yeah. That was for a test I took, or a grade I got, or something,” I recall.
“Your father must be through the roof now that you’ve graduated,” Smith insists.
“He’s proud,” I confirm.
I drink my one beer and then make an excuse to leave. I don’t want to be stuck here talking to someone in my father’s circle. In fact, I kind of want to forget about my family’s legacy for a moment.
I walk out onto the street, knowing that I’m doomed. There’s no way I can escape the reach of my father’s influence. I might as well go home and hide out in my bedroom. I get back in the car, feeling slightly worse than I did before. Instead of pure thoughts of Sofia, now I’m thinking about Mike.
I drive home, wondering if I’m ever going to get a shot at a genuine relationship.
It seems ridiculous to imagine that any woman would be interested in someone like me.
I’ve got mafia guards following me everywhere I go.
I run into connected men in every bar. I’m into the family business so deep that it doesn’t matter that I’ve never beaten anybody up.
I have as much blood on my hands as any of my father’s soldiers.
I wave at the guard before driving through the gate.
He looks bored, but I won’t tell my father.
I know it has to be a difficult post. Nine times out of ten, whoever drives up is a friend of the family.
But it’s that tenth time that demands razor-sharp concentration.
He’s the first line of defense my family has against our many enemies.
That’s another part of my life that I wouldn’t want to share with Sofia.
Hopefully, she’ll already be in love with me by the time I show her the family compound.
If we ever make it that far. I’m getting ahead of myself.
I haven’t even been out on a proper first date with her yet, and already I’m worried about introducing her to my father.
“One step at a time,” I mutter aloud.
Turning into the garage, I park next to my father’s favorite Mercedes.
It’s an older model, but it looks as good as new.
He takes good care of his entire fleet, keeping them running perfectly.
He handles the preventative maintenance on my car too, which is good.
If he left it up to me, I’m not sure if I would ever get the oil changed.
Inside, I’m planning to just run upstairs to my room. But Marlena stops me on the way up. “Frankie?”
I inhale sharply, trying not to let my frustration show. I don’t want to be wrapped up in family drama at the moment. I really want to just pretend I’m a regular guy who has something to offer a woman besides a life of crime.
But I can’t very well take it out on Marlena. She’s been so good to my dad, and to me. She’s the least offensive person who ever hangs around the house, and I owe it to her to be friendly. So I put on a smile and release the stairway railing from my death grip.
“Hey,” I respond, turning around to talk to her.
“Hi,” she says, holding a cup of coffee in her hands. She’s wearing an old sweater and a pair of pajamas, not exactly what most mafia wives wear. She looks comfortable, but also beautiful. It’s been a while since I noticed how pretty she is, and it makes me slightly nervous.
“Hi,” I repeat, hoping she’ll get to the point.
“Cisco and I are wondering if you’re going out for dinner?” she asks.
“No,” I respond. “I’m not really hungry.”
“So you don’t have plans?” she clarifies.
“No, but I don’t really want to have a formal dinner,” I say, trying to extract myself without causing any ill will.
“Please,” she insists. “Just the three of us.”
I run through a list of excuses, but none of them seem to fit.
I could tell her I’m busy, that I really need to study some more, but the bar exam is still far away.
I could pretend to be sick or invent an old friend that I simply have to visit.
But none of those fabrications are going to persuade Marlena to let me off the hook, I’m sure.
I can tell that this dinner means a lot to her, so I decide to give in.
“All right,” I say with a sigh. “I’ll be there.”
“Are you okay?” she asks, experiencing more resistance to her dinner suggestion than she expected.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I answer quickly. “I just can’t study, and I tried to go have a beer, but one of Dad’s friends stopped me.”
Marlena laughs. “Say no more. I completely understand.”
“I can’t go anywhere in this town without being recognized,” I complain.
“I know,” she agrees, shaking her head.
“I’d love to have dinner with you,” I say, feeling seen. Marlena gets me in a way that few others can. Neither of us is violent, and we don’t particularly have ambitions for my father’s fortune.
It’s funny, but the two people who stand to gain the most from all of my father’s enterprises are the two people who just want a normal life.
I know Marlena had to give up a lot to settle down with someone like Francisco Corello.
I wonder if Sofia would be willing to make such a sacrifice.
Or if I would even want her to? When it comes right down to it, do I even want to pursue her?
If I really cared, I would just walk away and let her go.
But I can’t. I just met her, and already I feel like she’s different. I tell myself that I’ll just go out on one date with her. One date can’t hurt. Maybe we’ll discover that we have relatively little in common. Maybe we’ll have a fun night out and go our separate ways.
I leave Marlena alone in the foyer as my bodyguard comes in from outside. She’s not really alone. There are always at least half a dozen other foot soldiers on the premises. My father and Uncle Gio are probably tucked away in his office going over the books.
I hurry upstairs to my suite, where I can lock the door and block all of it out.
I have my own miniature apartment inside my father’s mansion.
There’s a living room, a bathroom, and a bedroom.
The only thing I’m missing is a kitchen.
I actually installed a mini fridge and a coffee pot, just like a college dorm room.
So technically, I don’t have to go downstairs for dinner.
Instead of turning on the television or going back to my studies, I hop in the shower.
Washing off, I try not to dwell on the future.
If I pass the bar, then I’ll be thrust even deeper into my father’s life.
As a lawyer, I’ll be privy to many things that I’d prefer not to know about.
That will only make things more difficult for me in the romance department. Who wants to date a mobbed-up shyster?