Chapter 23
VALENTINO’S, LITTLE ITALY
Luca could hear his mother’s voice from outside the trattoria.
It was full bodied and whole hearted and a sound that had comforted him for a large part of his childhood.
But, he also remembered the sounds his mother had made when she had wept so many nights because of his father.
Because of him. For him. Mainly because of him.
Then his mom came into view through the misted-up windows, hair big and sprayed solid, an unmoving arc of dark curls, in a silver-sequinned top and black pants.
Something he would never have styled her in but somehow, it worked for her.
He took a breath of freezing air, regarded the inside of the restaurant, the long table their party would be sat at, candles lit, festive nuances part of the décor, guests milling around still, even though he was almost forty minutes late.
Valentino’s age-old playlist of Italian classics was just on the too-loud side of background music as always. And then the door opened…
His sister.
‘I ordered you pizza and pasta but whatever you don’t want I’ll take away and eat tomorrow.’
Luca smiled. ‘Hey, Steffi.’ He stepped towards her black dungaree-clad frame and hugged her. She clung on a little harder than usual.
‘You’re late.’
‘I know, I—’
‘Had Zeeta Friedmann. I know. Still not overawed but I know which person you dressed on that couch.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Oh my God, Luca. Gabriella, the writer of that book. She looked fire! Strong and powerful, yet soft and feminine. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. I almost forgot to get out of my cab here. Tell me she’s single and not straight and you can get me an in.’
‘Wow, I do not know.’ And somehow the question had completely thrown him. He didn’t even know why it had thrown him. Except, for some reason, he really did not want to think of Gabriella being anything but straight. Or, at least, bi…
‘Oh shit!’ Steffi said, hands going to her mouth. ‘You’re into her! OK, OK, all bets are off. You saw her first and—’
‘No,’ Luca said, smiling as he shook his head.
‘It’s not like that. She’s a client and we all know that business and pleasure mix together about as well as business and family.
Speaking of which…’ He looked to the door of the trattoria.
‘How many “family” in there are wanted by law enforcement in other countries?’
‘Just Uncle Stanley,’ Steffi said nonchalantly. ‘But, you know, he thinks Ecuador have given up after all this time.’
Luca shook his head. ‘What the fuck is this, Steffi? Why do we do this?’
She sighed. ‘It’s Mom’s birthday. And everyone in there, no matter how you feel about them, is here for Mom. It’s her night, Luca. It’s not about anyone else.’
He nodded and put an arm around his sister. ‘OK, OK. You’re right.’
‘So, am I taking home the pasta or the pizza?’ Steffi asked, rushing towards the green-painted door and the glow of the interior beyond.
‘Hey, let a guy think about it a little,’ he said. He put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Steffi, just, give me one minute, I need to make a quick call.’ He got his phone out of his coat pocket.
‘You’re gonna leave, aren’t you? Don’t do that, Luca.’
‘Hey, I’m not gonna leave. I’m here. Really, just one call and I’ll be in there pretending I’m OK with all the criminals.’
‘Swear it.’
‘I swear it on Mom’s fake Cartier.’
‘OK,’ Steffi said, sounding satisfied as she pushed the door to re-enter the restaurant.
Luca looked at the screen of his phone. No missed calls.
He had called Errol at least half a dozen times on the way over and it kept going to voicemail.
OK, it wasn’t enough to warrant him being concerned enough to go over there but, something felt a little off.
He called again and listened to the tone as he watched the bustle of the street. Voicemail cut in again.
This is Errol. I don’t want your call. Go do something else.
But, this time, Luca left a message.
‘Errol, it’s Luca. Listen, man, I need to talk to you. Can you call me back as soon as you pick up this message? OK, bye.’
He pocketed his phone and looked back to the trattoria. There was nothing else for it, it was time to face his fate here.