Endings & Beginnings (New Mafia Trilogy #3) (3 page)

   “You’re here!” She said and wrapped her arms
around me in a crushing hug on the same level as Chelsea’s. If my best friend
wasn’t clear across the country, I’d suspect she’d been giving lessons.  

Miranda released me and gave my mom a less
enthusiastic hug, but it was a hug, something I wasn’t used to seeing mom give
or receive. My future sister-in-law took a step back with a big smile. She was
radiant. Her skin had a healthy golden glow and her hair looked even thicker
and glossier than usual. The bride-to-be/expectant mother combo sure had its
aesthetic advantages.

   “You look fantastic!” I said which made her beam
even brighter.

   “Come on, I can’t wait to see the dress on you.”
Miranda grabbed my hand and pulled me into the store.

   “The neighborhood looks different than I remember
– it’s not that ghetto anymore,” I remarked.

   “That would be Dom’s doing. He’s been helping
fund some community improvements. Giving back, ya know?” Miranda said.

   “Oh, really?”

Miranda nodded and released my hand once we were
inside the store and I had to stop to take it all in. Lace, tulle, and satin
gowns lined the walls all around. This was my idea of a padded room and Chelsea
would be in heaven. Six plush, pristine white chairs formed a half circle
facing a small platform that was strategically placed in front of a large,
three sided mirror; the spot where the bride-to-be could model for her
entourage.

A woman in a black dress came rushing out from a
back room with a silver tray of champagne flutes in her hand. Her dark hair was
short in a pixie-cut style that accentuated her graceful, long neck.

   “Mimosa or plain orange juice?” the woman asked
me.

   “Mimosa, please.”

With a dramatic flourish, she handed me a flute. My
mom and Miranda both asked for plain orange juice. I took a few seconds to see
if Miranda was showing yet. At fourteen weeks she had a tiny bump for the most
part her stomach was flat.

I heard the door open behind us and turned to see Allegra,
Bianca, and Miranda’s mom, Paulina walking in.

   “Rand, honey, sorry I’m late! Nick wouldn’t leave
me alone this morning,” her mom said with a giggle before rushing over to pull
Miranda into a hug. I didn’t miss the look of disgust that briefly flashed
across Miranda’s face when her mom explained why she was late. It made me
wonder who Nick was.  When Bianca, Dom and Miranda’s cousin, saw me she
squealed and gave me a fierce hug. She was still as cute as ever and had added
bold blonde highlights to her dark hair.

   “I’ve missed you! So has Dom,” she whispered this
last part in my ear before releasing me.

   “It’s good to see you B. How’s school?”

   “I love college now! I just finished finals so
I’m officially done my freshman year.” When I left for Los Angeles, Bianca was
just starting at Temple University and having a hard time adjusting to campus
life. She was a commuter student and lived at home, so trying to find her place
was a struggle.

   “I take it things got better?”

   “They did. How about you, Dom said you’re living
in L.A.? I bet that’s so sick.”

   “You’re staying out there, right?” Allegra
interjected. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she wore a guarded
expression. I wasn’t sure what that was about. While we used to work together
at Crimson, we were never particularly close. The tall and leggy cocktail
waitress was instrumental in Marco’s demise which placed her in the category of
friend, not foe, so I didn’t know why she seemed so concerned about where I
lived.

I gave her the same neutral, non-committal response
I gave my mom. “Huh,” she said with a frown and wandered off to look at a row
of wedding dresses.

   “What was that all about?” I asked Bianca. She
sighed before answering.

   “She’s been making a play for Dom, but he doesn’t
want to have anything to do with her - with anyone for that matter.”

The very idea of Allegra and Dom together triggered
a flare of jealousy. By rights I didn’t hold a claim on Dom anymore. I broke up
with him and lived across the country. Between the intense dream and knowing Allegra
was circling around Dom like a cat in heat, my emotions were on high alert.
Hearing from Bianca that Dom wasn’t interested helped quell the jealousy, but
only a little bit.

   “I knew it!” Bianca burst out.

   “What?”

   “That look on your face just then said it all. You
still have feelings for Dom. You guys belong together I hope you can work
things out.”

Fortunately my mom walked over at that moment before
I could respond to Bianca. She had a black dress draped over her left arm. “Here
you go, Natalie, ready for the fitting?”

   “Thanks, Mom,” I said. Setting the half empty
champagne flute on a small table, I took the dress from her. She followed me to
the fitting rooms and sat down on one of the upholstered ottomans in a little
alcove area right outside. I stepped inside one of the empty rooms and hung the
dress up on a hook. It was a classic strapless knee length with a cream sash around
the empire waist that matched Miranda’s gown. The skirt was made up of soft,
flowing layers. I quickly stripped out of my jeans and t-shirt and slipped the
dress on. It was a little loose around the bust, but at least it wasn’t tight.
I twirled in front of the mirror and frowned at how the scar on my shoulder
from my bullet wound stood out; the tissue was raised and puckered, slightly
darker than the rest of my skin. It was a lot smaller and less noticeable than
it used to be, but still obvious. There was nothing I could do about that.

   “Natalie, let me see,” my mom called from the
other side of the door and I jumped, having forgotten she was out there. It was
such a strange experience to be doing girlie things like this with her. Back in
high school, I went with Chelsea and her mom to the mall when it came time for
us to shop for prom dresses.

Taking a deep breath, I emerged from the fitting
room and met her appraising gaze. She took in the dress and gasped, her eyes
misting up. “Oh, Natalie, you look beautiful!”

I wasn’t used to receiving compliments from her and
definitely not prepared for her emotional response. I blushed at her approval
and twirled around, just like when I was four and showing off the tutu I’d been
given as a birthday present.

   “What is that?” she asked, stepping closer.

   “What?” I glanced down to see what she was
looking at and realized she had noticed the scar.

Her fingertips brushed over the raised skin by my
collarbone and then slipped over to my back, to the matching scar right above
my shoulder blade where the bullet had exited my body. I closed my eyes and
held my breath willing the memories that were surfacing to go away. My mom’s
cool touch reminded me of Dr. Russo, the mob doc’s, fingers when he assessed
and treated my injury. While it wasn’t painful, the sensation was all it took
to trigger the flood of memories; the metallic smell of blood that filled
Dominic’s Mustang as I drove to get us help and the punch of bullets drilling
into the side of the car, glass raining down on us and then the worst memory of
all, the dead stare of the man I killed.

   “It’s nothing,” I said, backing away from her
touch on shaky legs.

   “Doesn’t look like nothing,” she said and pursed
her lips; the frown I was familiar with was back in place. We stared at each
other, uncomfortable silence filling the gap between us.  Beads of sweat
dripped down my spine, collecting in the small of my back. “Natalie,” she began
in her disappointed tone.

   “Don’t, Mom!” I hissed and ran into the fitting
room, wishing it had a lock on the doorknob, but it didn’t. “Shit,” I muttered
and pressed my forehead against the cool wall, trying to get my breathing under
control, inhaling and exhaling until the trembling stopped and my heartbeat
stopped pounding in my ears.  I had really overreacted and that would only feed
her suspicions. It had been a few months since I’d had a panic attack and I was
left feeling clammy, nauseated and exhausted. There was a light knock on the
door before it opened. Bracing for my mom to peek her head in, I was relieved
to see Miranda.

   “Hey, are you okay?” she asked and slipped inside,
closing the door behind her. She was wearing her veil, but still had on her
jeans and a fitted button down shirt.

   “Yeah, I just had a moment. I’m sorry.”

   “For what?”

   “Making a scene when it’s supposed to be about
you.”

   “Pfffffttt,” she said, tossing her hand in the
air. “Don’t worry about it. Now, do you want to tell me what’s wrong? And don’t
tell me nothing like you told your mom. You’re about ten shades lighter than
pale.”

I shrugged and pointed at the scar. “I panicked and
didn’t know what to say when she asked about this.”

   “Oh. Well, what have you told other people?”

   “In L.A., I told that guy Jason I was seeing that
I fell off my bike and landed on exposed rebar.”

   “That’s a good story.”

   “Yeah, but don’t you think that an accident of
that scale is something a mom would know about? I was still on her insurance
when it happened.”

   “Tell her it happened in California when you were
out of touch. You have to tell her something or she won’t let it drop.”

Miranda was right and telling my mom the truth
wasn’t an option. “You look smoking hot in that dress, by the way,” Miranda
said with a smile. “Let’s get back out there so my cousin can see where it
needs to be taken in.”

We left the fitting room to join the others in the
main part of the store. Allegra was up on the platform getting fitted.
Apparently she had the opposite problem than me and her dress needed to be
let
out
at the bust. Picking up my abandoned mimosa, I went to stand next to my
mom.

   “I’m sorry, Mom, it’s just that I’m a little
sensitive about the scar.”

   “I’m sorry too and it’s okay if you don’t tell me
what happened. I know I haven’t exactly earned your trust to be one of your
confidants.” Surprised, I looked up and met her gaze. Her brown eyes had
softened and she reached up to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. “Hopefully we
can get there someday?”

   “I’d like that,” I said, knowing full well that
she would never know everything. There are some things you just can’t tell your
mother, especially about your involvement in organized crime and murder.

Our conversation was interrupted when Miranda
stepped out in her wedding gown and we all seemed to gasp at the same time. The
ivory dress was a strapless mermaid style that hugged her curves then flared
out mid-thigh in layers of organza that brushed the floor. A black belt trimmed
in gray cinched the waist and when Miranda turned around, I saw that it turned
more into a ribbon and draped down the back along the layers that fanned out.
Miranda was a sight to behold with her glowing olive skin and dark hair spilling
down past her shoulders.

Miranda’s mom was crying; a tissue clutched in her
fist as she dabbed at her eyes. “Oh honey, you are so beautiful!” she said. “I
wish your father could see you.” Miranda paled at the mention of Marco and she
glanced over at me. I quickly jumped in to redirect the conversation. Miranda’s
mom didn’t know how much of a role Miranda played in her own father’s demise.
Allegra grew quiet too. I wasn’t surprised since she was directly involved in
luring Marco to The Speak, where Dominic shot and killed him.

   “Miranda, wait until Grant sees you, he’s going
to cry like a girl,” I said with a laugh. “And I hope it’s all caught on
camera.”

Miranda and my mom chuckled at that and then her
cousin resumed fussing over the last minute alterations needed on the dress.
“Thank you,” she mouthed when her mom had turned around to answer her ringing
cell phone.

 After the fittings, we went shoe shopping and that
turned into a late lunch, which turned into happy hour and evolved into dinner.
It was after ten o’clock by the time my mom and I were back at the hotel and
while the day was fun, I was exhausted. Dominic had yet to make an appearance
and right before I slipped into a dreamless sleep, I briefly wondered if he
even wanted to see me.

DOMINIC

   “Oh Christ, the fuckin’ arrogance of youth! As
your consigliore, I am telling you that you’re being reckless. You roam around
unprotected and vulnerable. You aren’t invincible, son.” My dad slammed his
hand down on the table and his gaze slipped to the scars on my neck, a
permanent reminder of my brush with death.

I understood where he was coming from, but I refused
to be consumed by paranoia like my Uncle Marco. Having protection certainly
didn’t save him. Of course, I was family and he trusted me right up until I
blew his dick off. Prior to that, I fell outside his circle of paranoia. “Dad,
if someone wants me dead bad enough, it’s going to happen even if I have a
freakin’ militia following me around.”

   “So no additional security at the wedding where
you are all exposed?” We were sitting around the dining room table at my dad’s
house: my Underboss, Dante, my Capos Grant and Miranda, our enforcer Joey D.,
as well as my brother Anthony, Dante’s brother Johnny and Miranda’s brother,
Paulie.

   “Practically the entire organization is going to
be there and we’re all going to be carrying. I think we can handle it if, and
that’s a big if, things go down. Only someone really fucking stupid will try
anything.”

   “Uncle Rico, I agree with Dom. The enforcers we
would use as protection are all going to be there anyway. They already know to
keep their eyes open for any trouble,” Dante said.

My dad frowned. “What about you, Rand, think about
the baby? Are you okay with this?”

   “Nothing is going to hurt Miranda or the baby.
I’ll take a thousand bullets to keep that from happening,” Grant answered,
entwining his fingers with Miranda’s. She looked up at him and smiled.

   “Uncle Rico this is my wedding and I want it to
be as normal as possible. People from outside of the family are going to be
there, we need to keep things on the down low. I trust Dom’s decision.” Miranda
squeezed Grant’s hand after her little speech.

My dad sat back in his chair and tapped his
fingertips against the tabletop as he mulled everything over. “Fine,” he said
with a sigh. “Good thing I have a holster sewn into my tuxedo jacket. I’ll be carrying
too. Seriously, Dominic, I know what I’m doing, so one of these days you’ll
need to listen to me.”

   “Dad, I hear ya. It’s time to move on. What else
do we need to talk about?”

   “Grant’s bachelor party,” Dante chimed in. “It’s
going to be fucking amazing. I got a bunch of strippers…“

   “Dude, really?” Grant jerked his head in
Miranda’s direction. “Hormonally charged fiancé over here.”

   “Oh, you guys have fun with your hoes. Cici has
something equally as epic planned at Carnal for my bachelorette.”

   “Not with all of those male stripper douches?”
Grant said.

   “Oh yeah. You know Cici has an in with the
manager.”

   “Ha! More like the manager has been in her,” I
remarked.

   “Territory you’re familiar with, huh Dom?” Dante
winked at me. I slept with Cici like four summers ago down the shore and
apparently I wasn’t the only one who remembered.

   “What the fuck! Can you not talk about my sister
like that?” Joey D. growled.

Paulie, Anthony and Johnny were snickering and
trying so hard to muffle their snorts. Ordinarily our meetings were a lot more
serious and we were dealing with issues regarding our heroin business and
relations with other gangs in the city. With less than a week until Grant and
Miranda’s wedding, a certain sense of levity had taken over.

It was moments like this that I loved because it was
just family fucking around teasing one another. Since Marco’s brooding and
unpredictable presence had been removed, we seemed to be having more moments
like this and it felt good.

   “Speaking of sisters…Grant, how’s Natalie doing?”
My dad asked in an attempt to rein the conversation in before Joey D. punched
someone. I noticed he glanced sideways at me too, gauging my reaction. I knew
they were all wondering why I hadn’t seen her yet. I wanted to visit her the
first night she was in town, shit I wanted to be the one to meet her at the
airport and it was torture to hold back, but I knew she needed time to
reconcile with her mom. While it had been five months since I last saw Natalie,
it had been close to nine months since she last had any contact with her mom. Another
part of me, and one I would never admit to anyone, was that I was terrified.
The last time I saw Natalie was in California and it was of her back as she ran
away after breaking up with me. One minute we were making love in the shower
and everything felt right with the world and the next morning she was telling
me to go home. We had spoken since and she confessed she still had feelings for
me despite dating someone else: Jason. He was nice guy, a good guy who was
going to be a lawyer one day, following in his father’s footsteps. I wanted
Natalie back, her absence had left a void in my life, I killed my uncle for her
and would kill again, but the fear lurked in the corners of my mind and heart,
the fear that she would reject me one more time. So I waited.

   “Nat’s really good,” Grant answered. “Well,
except Miranda told me she had a mild panic attack at Diane’s shop the other
day.”

   “What? Is she okay?” I asked.

   “She’s fine, just got a little overwhelmed with
everything,” Miranda said. “My future mother-in-law kind of stressed her out a
bit too.”

   “She has that effect on people,” Grant replied,
shaking his head and chuckling. “But she’s definitely changing for the better.”

I remembered how upset Nat would get around her mom.
When Nat and I lived together, her mom had some crazy notion that I was beating
her, which was ridiculous. There were many times that I came home to find
Natalie in tears after a rough phone call. I knew then that I needed to put my
fears aside and go see her.

   “I think we’re done here,” I said, standing and
looking around the table to see nods of agreement. “Dad, tell mom I’ll be over
for dinner on Sunday.”

   “Good, it’d be good to have you over. Eva’s been
missing you. She’ll be bummed to find out you were here while she was at softball
practice.”

I followed Grant and Miranda to the front door.
Dante and Joey D. were right behind me. “Yo Grant, where’s Nat at?” 

   “Why? You finally are going to go see her?”

   “Yeah.”

We stopped on the sidewalk in front of my parent’s
house. Their elderly neighbor was out sweeping off her stoop, kicking up a
cloud of dust wearing her standard issue housecoat, one I could’ve sworn she
had since I was born.

   “How ya doin’ Mrs. Antonelli?” I called out to
her. She paused and looked up.

   “Dommie, come here,” she said in her raspy voice,
gesturing with a gnarled hand. “Dante, Miranda, you too.”

We took a few steps, closing the gap between us and
the concrete steps. “Here,” she said and handed me her broom before
disappearing into her house. She reappeared moments later with two plates piled
high with a colorful assortment of sugar and almond cookies. Dante and I each
took a plate and if I wasn’t still holding the broom, would’ve peeled the
plastic wrap back and snagged a cookie.

   “Who’s this?” Mrs. Antonelli asked, pointing at
Grant.

   “This is Grant, Miranda’s fiancé,” Dante said.

   “Oh! Well, come here boy; let me get a look at
you.” She tugged on Grant’s arm and pulled him closer for an inspection. Mrs.
Antonelli had shrunk in her old age to under five feet so she stared up at
Grant and I think she would have patted his cheeks if she could reach them.
Instead, she patted him on his stomach. “You’re a strapping young man. Hold
on.” Once again she disappeared into her house and Grant looked over at me and
I shrugged my shoulders. I was expecting Mrs. Antonelli to come out with
another plate of cookies, but instead she handed Miranda a baby’s blanket. It
was a mint green color and made out of soft, fuzzy cotton. “I knitted this for
the baby. Why you kids couldn’t wait until you were married, I don’t
understand.” She shook her head and frowned, making her wrinkles bunch up like
a Shar-Pei's. “But, at least you’re doing the right thing and getting married
before the baby arrives.”

   “Thank you, Mrs. Antonelli. It’s beautiful and I
know the baby’s going to love it,” Miranda said. She bent over and hugged the
woman, kissing her cheek.

We stood around awkwardly for a few minutes before
she grabbed the broom out of my hand and shooed us away. “I need to finish
before Maury comes on.” She pretended to swat at us like pests and we laughed,
calling goodbye over our shoulders as we walked to our cars.

My Mustang stood out on the street. Its new paint
sparkled in the sunshine. While it was a classic, I had it modernized with a
Bose sound system, power locks and windows, and an alarm system.

Grant’s Audi was parked across the street from me.
He had the door open and was about ready to climb in when he turned toward me.
“You heading over to Nat’s hotel?” he asked.

   “Yeah.”

   “Want us to go with?”

   “Nah, I need to go alone.”

Grant nodded in understanding and told me the room
number before getting in his car. Miranda called out good luck before the door
shut.

I pulled in front of the hotel and grabbed the plate
of cookies before entrusting my car with valet. I was handed a ticket stub and
told to text the number when I was ready to leave. Shoving that in my back
pocket, I entered the lobby and quickly crossed to the bank of elevators.

The hotel wasn’t one of the tall ones, only eight
floors, and Natalie’s suite was on the top floor. I didn’t pass anyone in the
hallway as I made my way to her room. The plastic plate threatened to slip as
my palms grew sweaty the closer I got. The psychedelic carpet seemed to stretch
for miles ahead of me like in bad dream, but I finally found myself standing in
front of the door. I took a deep breath before knocking.

A whisper of movement on the other side alerted me
to someone approaching before I heard the deadbolt disengage. I took a step
back away so I wasn’t crowding the doorway and ran my free hand through my
hair.

I was surprised and disappointed when it wasn’t Natalie
standing in the doorway, but her mother. She held the door open, but didn’t
invite me in. Instead she stood, blocking the entrance.

   “Mrs. Ross, how are you today?”

   “I’m fine,” she answered, narrowing her eyes at
me. “What do you want?”

   “Grant told me Natalie was here and I’d like to
see her.”

She softened when I mentioned Grant’s name and
shifted to a less defensive position. “She’s down at the pool. Don’t upset her
though,” she warned me.

   “I wasn’t planning on it. Oh, and I brought some
homemade cookies. My parent’s neighbor baked them and they’re amazing.” I
handed her the plate. She had to open the door wider in order to take it.

   “Thank you.”

I said goodbye and made my way back to the elevators
wondering the entire way what Natalie’s mom meant by not upsetting Natalie. Once
the doors opened onto the third floor, the strong smell of chlorine led me
right to the pool.

There were a few people in the pool, mainly kids and
couple of adults. I noticed Natalie in the corner, furthest away from everyone
else. She was lying on her back on a lounge chair sunbathing, wearing a bikini
and she looked freakin’ amazing. I hesitated before walking over, trying to
think about how to approach her, before deciding to just wing it.  

At first I thought she was sleeping, she had ear
buds in and her eyes were closed, but the moment I stood over her, blocking the
sun, her eyes popped open and she sat up suddenly, poised as if readying
herself to launch away from whoever was standing next to her.

   “Relax, Nat, it’s me,” I said, taking a step back
to give her some space.

   “Jesus, you scared me,” she held a hand over her
heart and let out a nervous chuckle.

   “Sorry.”

   “It’s okay,” she said and rolled the ear buds
around her iPod. Swinging her tanned legs over the side of the chair, she rose
to stand in front of me. Without delay, I pulled her into a hug. The faint
tropical scent of sunscreen clung to her warm skin. She wrapped her arms around
me, fisting the back of my white t-shirt in her hands. We didn’t say anything
and just held each other. I forgot about everything else and took stock of this
moment where all was right with the world. Natalie did that to me. Just her
presence restored balance that had been lacking in my life these past few months.
I wondered, hoped she felt the same, but knew it was too soon to broach such an
intense topic.

I don’t know how long we stood there in each other’s
arms and didn’t care. Eventually Natalie released the hold on my shirt and
stepped away. That’s when I noticed she was crying.

   “Hey,” I said, placing a finger under her chin
and tilting her head up so she would look at me. “What’s all this?” Out of
habit, I bent down and brushed my lips across hers. She leaned into me at
first, but quickly jerked away, turning her head. She may have hidden her eyes
from me, but the flush on her cheeks was hard to hide. I mistook this reaction
as shame when I remembered Natalie was with Jason and I no longer had the right
to kiss her. I tended to lose all thought processes around this woman.