Emiliano
THE DEVIL HIMSELF
I’m walking into my office after a briefing that could’ve been an email when I notice my chair has been taken.
“To what do I owe this surprise? So I can make sure I never do it again,” I joke, watching Ignacio toss a highlighter in the air before catching it and placing it in a ceramic pen holder that was far too expensive.
But you have to look like money if you want to be surrounded by it, I suppose.
Unless you’re my oldest brother, who is probably richer than anyone currently in the building and is wearing a T-shirt, jeans, cowboy boots, and a well-loved leather jacket.
“If this doesn’t work out for you, maybe the comedian route will, hermanito. ” He stands and rounds the desk to clap his hand over my shoulder. “Just checking in with my attorney.”
To the average passerby, we look like two men who likely don’t have much in common. With my perfectly tailored suit, I probably look like an asshole. But Ignacio, with his buzzcut and the scar on his cheekbone, looks like a different kind of asshole.
I appear to be the kind who’ll take you to court over a minor inconvenience. He looks like he’d kill your family if you cough on him.
And, I mean… maybe he would. I can’t say.
“Your expensive attorney,” I clarify with a small bow. “What the hell are you doing here, Nas?” I only use his childhood nickname when we’re alone. I have a great respect for his position in our family, even if it’s still something I have to get used to.
There are no classes on how to handle when your brother takes over the family syndicate. Just look at Carlos.
“ Mami is complaining that we don’t spend enough time with her?—”
“Bullshit, I do,” I interject, because when we’re alone, we’re brothers.
He holds his hands up. “Obviously this excludes you. And I’m grateful you’ve given her so much of your time. But you need a break too.” He grins, showing off his pearly whites. “Go get some pussy, find a hobby, find a wife. I don’t know.”
“You think I need pussy?” I ask, leaning my hip against my desk and crossing my arms.
“Doesn’t everyone?” He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a piece of gum, offering it to me. I take it, and he tucks it back in his pocket without having a piece himself. “Pussy makes the world go ’round. It gives life and all that shit.”
“‘And all that shit?’” I tease, working my jaw until the gum takes its typical consistency.
“You know what I mean, pendejo .” He glances out at the impressive view behind my desk. “You need something other than this.”
“And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“You don’t need a wife? Kids? Something outside of…” I peer around, content to not continue. You never know who’s listening.
“Nah.” He claps his hands together and looks back over at me. “I’ve got too much shit to do.”
Hm.
“What were you thinking? About Mami , I mean.”
“Maybe we can book her a flight to Tío Guillermo?” Not a bad suggestion.
Ignacio is America’s version of El Jefe —who we call Tío Guillermo. In fact, when he sent his love after our father’s passing, there were talks of a retirement. But I can’t see Nas moving to México, and I don’t know who would take over here.
Our uncle adores my mother—his older sister—with every ounce of his being. So much so, he chose her husband for her.
“Do you think she’d enjoy that?” I ask, tilting my head as I think it over.
It’s hard to gift something to my mother when Papi’s life insurance left her with more money than the average human sees in a lifetime. But I think she’d appreciate the thought from her children.
“Honestly, Mami lost her person.” It’s a strange thing to say, having not been privy to their private moments.
But it doesn’t take a genius to see that she’s tried to fill her free time with things that remind her of him.
Which reminds me… “She did say she wanted a horse, but I have a handle on that.”
He places his hand over his jaw and nods. “Papo?” he asks, having grown up with him as well. Nas and Papo weren’t the closest, but I remember a time when everyone used to hang out together. And then one day we just…didn’t anymore.
Rather than discuss him further, I nod. “I think between the horse and a nice trip back home, she’ll be content,” I tell him as I cross my arms over my chest.
It’ll be nice to skip Sunday service while she’s gone.
Ignacio stands there, eyes back on the Austin skyline.
“One time I asked her how she knew Papi was the one,” he murmurs.
It’s an uncharacteristically tender question I wouldn’t have expected from him, but I suppose we’re all full of surprises.
While we know their marriage was an arrangement of sorts, no one could deny that Papi was smitten from the moment he saw her. And Guillermo wouldn’t have expected or accepted anything less.
“What did she say?” I ask, curious now. Nas crossed a bridge with her I’ve yet to even approach. She loves me, I know. But she’s also formidable and calculated, even within her love.
“‘When I knew the Devil himself wouldn’t dare touch me in that man’s presence.’”
We stand there in silence as we absorb the power in her words. Because even in death, my father made sure she’s protected, having taught his sons that when it comes to Mami , her happiness and safety are paramount.
Two out of three of his sons, anyway.
“As much as I’d like to say this is just a social visit,” Ignacio starts, turning to face me again, his lips flattening, “I’m gonna need you to come with me.”
And just like that, my night belongs to whatever fucked-up shit Nas has in mind.
“I’ll swing by my place for a T-shirt and jeans. No way am I gonna be stuck wearing your tiny ass clothes again,” I mutter, pressing a button on the phone perched on my desk. Meena’s voice echoes through my office before he can respond. “Clear the rest of my day, please. Family emergency.”
“Will do,” she replies, and when my brother heads toward the door, I’m aware that I’m expected to follow him.
Come hell or highwater, loyalty is the one thing the Pineros name demands.