Chapter 4
FOUR
JULIET
While Gino is at Vanessa’s, I change into tights, a black leotard, and a wrap-around ballet skirt. Then, I head into the sunroom, which I redesigned to be a dance studio for myself when I moved in.
I’ve been dancing my entire life and have loved it since the first time I started dancing at four years old.
Walking through the French doors into the room, the sun lights up the entire space. As soon I enter, I close the doors behind me and turn on music to warm up.
Once I’ve finished warming up, I turn on my favorite ballet, Swan Lake, and dance through the routine I choreographed as a teenager. During the routine, I start a sequence of fouetté turns, and during it, my mind flicks through everything that brought me to this point in my life.
My parents created a beautiful home where my brother and I were loved like no other.
My mom always showed her love through food, spending days making ph? and creating some of my favorite Vietnamese dishes.
My dad showed his love by providing for us, sending us to the best schools, and allowing me to attend some of the best dance camps in the country over the course of my childhood.
And teaching us business so we could one day be able to run something on our own.
Both of my parents also made sure we understood our culture, from celebrating the Lunar New Year every year to traveling to Vietnam at least every few years to see family.
When I told my parents that Antonio Esposito offered me a job, they thought it would be a great opportunity for me to learn, but they didn’t know he was a mafia don until after he died.
They thought, and were told, he was in finance.
No one knows, not even my parents, how he kept that a secret.
And I didn’t tell them what I knew because I knew the second they found out they would try to get me to come home.
My parents attended college with Antonio, and they became fast friends during their first year. Both my parents were student-athletes and met Antonio during an English class where they were paired into a group.
When they had settled down, it was on opposite sides of the country, but they kept in touch.
And when I decided to attend college in New York, my father contacted Antonio for apartment recommendations, and without meaning to, for a distant eye to be kept on me.
Having overheard that conversation, Antonio and Gino interpreted my father’s protectiveness as a sign that I would work well for him.
So, at eighteen, Antonio Esposito, leader of the New York Italian Mafia, offered me a job.
My job was simple: learn from him and his associates, the ins and outs of the legit side of the business to help Gino in the future and eventually become Gino’s accountant.
Antonio always knew his son would never want to continue the business the way he did; he was always thinking ahead.
No matter how much of an asshole he was, he loved his son.
He loved his daughter too; he wanted to protect them so much that he didn’t give them any hints that they existed to each other until a few months ago.
Vanessa, Gino’s sister, is amazing, and we have become fast friends in a world of men.
She loves to read, and she spends as much time in Gino’s library as I do.
Now seeing her in a state of distress and hurt makes what we’re doing worse.
We’re all questioning if building our own company is worth it.
Drew knocks on the door before letting himself in, which snaps me out of my thoughts and stops my movements.
He and I are pretty close and have been since those long study sessions in the library at college. We bonded pretty quickly, considering we were both double majors. I majored in accounting and finance, while he was in computer science and math.
“Hey Juliet, is Gino around?” he asks, walking in.
“He’s at Vanessa’s,” I reply softly.
He hums in response and takes a seat in the blue chair next to the door.
I know I should tell someone about the message I got this morning, and Drew is probably the best person to help.
I turn to face him. “I need to show you something, but I need you to promise me not to tell Gino. He has too much going on, and I’m not totally sure if it’s all related.”
He sighs. “Uhh, I have a lot of questions. Why don’t you want to tell Gino? You’re never nervous, and you look it right now. Well, except for that time you almost failed economics. You’re still welcome, by the way, for helping you study for that exam.”
I groan, “It’s been years since that exam. Can you let that go, and could you please look at this?”
“I’ll look at it, but I’m allowed to ask as many questions as I want,” he says, giving me a serious stare.
I grab my phone from the table and show him the message.
He stares at it for a moment and looks up at me. “Juliet, this isn’t good. You really should tell Gino. This could be someone who knows something. They could be helpful.”
“I know, but I don’t know if it makes sense to bother him if we don’t know who it is. Could you try to look into it and see if you can find anything?” I reply.
“Yeah, but if I find anything, we go right to Gino,” he says sternly.
“I’ll agree to it, but you have to promise you won’t say anything until we know something,” I say.
“Deal,” he replies. Then he smiles, “The only way this is binding is our secret handshake.”
“You’re kidding,” I say.
“No, I’m not.” He puts his hand out.
“Fine,” I grumble.
And we do our secret handshake.
I don’t remember how it started or how we came up with it, but it stuck. Every time we agreed to something, or we did well at something, we did our secret handshake. Our palms connected for two claps, then we did the same with the back of our hands. Then our palms brushed twice.
Then he leaves.
I place my phone back on the table and turn the music back on, continuing the routine.
Once I’m done, I turn off the music and open one of the windows to let the cooler early summer air into the room.
After a few minutes, someone winds around the corner into the room. I turn, and Gino looks directly at me and freezes, staring at me.
He’s still frozen in his place. To break him out of his trance, I call his name, “Gino?”
It takes three tries, practically yelling his name, before he shakes his head. “Gino, are you okay?”
“Yeah, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I reply.
Shit, did he hear that conversation between Drew and I?
“Are you hungry? I was about to start making lunch.”
“No, but I know I should eat.”
“I’ll make something simple.”
“Juliet, you never make anything simple,” he grumbles.
I love to cook, so sometimes my simple cooking is plates of food.
I grin at him. “How about my version of simple?”
“Deal. I am going to head upstairs. Let me know when lunch is ready, and I’ll come back down.”
“I’m going to take a quick shower, then I’ll make something," I reply, and he walks out of the sunroom to head to his office.
Then my phone pings.
Unknown
The Russos’ associates may know something; check them out.
Whoever this is wants us to look into the Russos?
Why? We already know who did this. These messages seem to be nothing but someone trying to push themselves into this situation with us.
And I know Drew’s right. If there's anything of value or threatening, I need to take it to Gino, but I don’t want to yet.