Chapter Twenty Two #2
We follow Anita outside. I take the last empty seat at the long table and Sutton pulls Benito over to where Raffaello and Anita stand facing the party.
Raffaello clinks a fork to his wine glass to get everyone’s attention.
“Buona sera, amici,” he begins. “As you all know, I have lived in La Musa for many decades, and I am grateful to be back after business took me out of town for several months.”
I hold in a groan. Raffaello continues, “My son did an excellent job filling in as mayor while I took my leave, but I’m back now and, well, Benito?”
Raffaello gestures toward Benito, who clears his throat.
“Yes, I will now resign as mayor of La Musa, as many of you already know. But now it is official. I am resigning.” He takes a step backward to signal he’s done speaking.
There’s a brief spattering of applause as the crowd reacts to the news that’s already been gossip fuel in La Musa for weeks.
Raffaello laughs in the vein of a supervillain as he places a sturdy grip on Benito’s shoulder and beckons him forward. “And do you have any suggestions for a replacement, son?”
There are a few sparse giggles from the crowd. Anita interrupts before Benito can say anything. “Raffaello, why don’t you share your other happy news first?”
Raffaello claps his hands together. “I’m also very excited to share that my family company is spearheading a project to revitalize La Musa.
” He gestures to Sutton, who produces a large poster board with a rendering of the completed project.
From the picture, it looks nothing like the town I know.
The duomo remains untouched, and the clock tower still stands watch, but the “revitalized” buildings are sleek, modern, and designed to look exactly the same.
It’s worse than I thought. My breath catches in my chest. I notice a few guests whisper to each other.
Raffaello points at the picture. “I know it’s a big change, but this is the best way to make La Musa a thriving commerce center, and to put us on the map as a major player in Umbria.
I have lived in this town a long time, and I promise I have its best interests at heart. ”
Anita lets out a cackle so loud, it casts a ripple through the entire party, seemingly echoing out into the countryside below. Raffaello points at her, unfazed. “My wife here can hardly contain her excitement.”
Anita laughs again. “No, no. I’m sorry. No.
” She waves her hand in front of her mouth in an effort to pull herself together.
“It’s just. . . hearing you say you have the town’s best interests at heart is quite funny, considering the only interests you care about are your own.
” My eyes dart up to catch Benito’s. His jaw drops and he quickly covers his mouth with his hand.
There’s a grumble from the crowd of guests as we wait for what’s next.
Anita turns back to the table behind her and picks up the folder she was holding earlier.
She walks toward Raffaello. “You could never be the business success your father wanted you to be, so instead you tried to make La Musa your kingdom. You bought up as many properties as you could, waiting for the day you could sell them all and turn a giant profit not just for you but for your family’s company.
It would’ve worked, honestly, if not for your wandering eye. ”
She hands Raffaello a photograph. From where I’m sitting, I can only see the back, but I guess its contents based on how quickly Raffaello’s face grows pale.
“You will not ruin La Musa like you’ve ruined me.
” Anita pulls a multipage document out of the same folder.
“I told you a month ago if you did not return home, I would file for divorce.” She throws a look toward the crowd, grinning.
“So, you came back. I ask you all, was it because he loves his family and wanted to make it right?”
The crowd remains silent. Lucia quietly gets up from her seat and joins her family.
She puts an arm around Benito, and they stand behind Anita, showing their support.
Anita continues, “No, he did it because he knew if I divorced him, half of all this would become mine, and I’d never agree to such a heinous deal.
” She pushes the papers into Raffaello’s chest, forcing him to take them. “That copy’s yours.”
Anita takes the rendering of the development from Sutton and shows it to the crowd. “Tell me, do any of you want La Musa to turn into this?”
Sutton raises her hand dutifully but lowers it quickly when Anita shoots her a glare.
No one else in attendance shows even a morsel of support.
“That’s what I thought,” Anita says. She turns back to Raffaello.
“I am divorcing you. Half of this will be mine. I will not agree to sell or to make any such changes. You can try to fight me if you want, but if you care about your reputation at all, I wouldn’t.
” She points toward the picture Raffaello’s still holding. “There’s more where that came from.”
It’s dead quiet. I feel like we should applaud, but that doesn’t seem appropriate.
I thought I was in the driver’s seat here, but I got it all wrong.
Anita was ready to take Raffaello down on her own, and she did it spectacularly.
Raffaello is bright red. Sutton looks like a dog with its tail between its legs.
I know they’re both calculating their next move, but I can’t imagine there’s a good one to make other than fleeing.
Benito breaks the tension by stepping forward.
“Earlier, my father asked if I want to endorse anyone for mayor, and I do.” Raffaello looks to him, perhaps clinging to the glimmer of hope that his son might throw him a bone.
Benito grins. “The next mayor of La Musa should be my mother, Anita Farentino.”
Now, the party erupts in applause. The guests stand one by one, cheering for Anita as she hugs Benito. Lucia joins them in their group hug while Raffaello remains on the outside of the family, perhaps permanently.
Vincenzo stands and raises his glass. “To Anita! I, for one, cannot wait to call you my new mayor.”
Valeria stands and clinks glasses with her husband.
“Salute!” Raffaello watches in petrified horror as the party guests walk over to Anita to congratulate her.
She waves them off. “Nonsense, nothing will change. The food is ready. Mangia! Mangia!” She redirects people toward the kitchen and the long buffet tables full of food.
I see Raffaello sneak out through the side yard, no doubt off to somewhere or someone to lick his wounds.
I turn to Vincenzo, still impressed by Anita’s show of force. “That is not how I saw that going,” I say.
Vincenzo smiles and pats me on the shoulder. “C’è un nuovo sole tutti i giorni, Izzy.” He gestures around at the overall cheeriness of the festivities. “There is a new sun every day.”
I walk over to Anita. “That was badass,” I say.
She shrugs. “I did what I should have done long ago. And when Benito told me he came back here only for me, I knew I could not let him sacrifice everything again.” She looks over at Benito and smiles.
“Someone else beat me to the punch in freeing him from his father, but it was still worth it. We’ve all sacrificed too much for Raffaello. ” She winks at me and heads inside.
When Benito said he told Anita everything, he really did tell her everything.
It makes sense that this was the last straw.
Anita’s love for her children overpowers everything else, as it should.
She loves Benito way too much to let him become a pawn in Raffaello’s game—I guess we’re alike in that way.
I look around the party for Benito, but I don’t see him anywhere.
He’s not in the backyard, or in line for food, or even refilling his prosecco glass at the foyer bar.
I check upstairs and see the door to his office is open.
When I enter, Sutton is zipping up a suitcase, an air mattress deflating next to her while Raffaello pleads with her in rapid Italian.
He touches her lower back. My heart sinks. Is Sutton Raffaello’s secret mistress?
Raffaello leans in close, his mouth close to her ear, but Sutton quickly shimmies out of his grasp, pushing him away.
“Raffaello, no. You are drunk, you are sad, you are embarrassed, but I am not interested, and I am your colleague. I suggest you walk away now and never try this again if you want to keep it that way.”
My eyes widen. Good for Sutton. My women’s intuition kicks in and I walk into the room, not wanting her to be alone with him for another second.
Sutton might not be my favorite person, but no one deserves that.
“Hey, Sutton, I have that thing you asked me for,” I say.
She stares at me quizzically and I widen my eyes, cocking my head ever so slightly.
After an awkward moment, Sutton nods, understanding. “Right, good, thanks,” she says.
“Can you give us a sec, Raffaello?” I ask. He glares at me and doesn’t budge. “It’s, um, woman stuff.”
Raffaello backs up out of the room with his hands in the air.
When he leaves, Sutton looks at me, annoyed. “I can handle him myself,” she says, but her voice is quiet.
I shrug. “I know.”
Her expression softens. “Thanks.”
“Are you ok?” I ask.
“I’m good.” She takes in a sharp breath. “Raffaello is the worst.”
A half groan, half laugh escapes out of me. “I thought you two were like, besties.”
She rolls her eyes and throws her hands up in the air. “All part of the game.”
I smile at her. Pretending to be buddy-buddy with terrible men is a game I know well. “Have you seen Benito?” I ask.