Clean Slate (New Mafia Trilogy #2) (18 page)

BOOK: Clean Slate (New Mafia Trilogy #2)
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“Yeah, fucking Marco
reneged on a distribution deal in Chinatown with the TRGs.” TRG was short for
Tiny Rascal Gangsters and they were one of the two top Asian gangs in the city.

           
“What did he do?”

           
“He gave the deal to
the Red Scorpions instead. They were willing to take less of a cut off the
top.” The Red Scorpions were the other major gang and they didn’t play well in
the sandbox together.

           
“Shit, when did this
go down?”

           
“When you and Grant
did your disappearing act,” Telly said with an accusing tone I didn’t
appreciate. I turned and glared at him, taking a step closer until we stood
chest to chest.

           
“Trying to stir up
shit again, Telly? Go ahead and try.”

           
“Hey, knock it off.
It’s Christmas Eve for Christ’s sake,” Uncle Al said, putting an arm between
us. Telly took a step back and I held my ground until he turned away. “We’ll
talk about the situation with the TRGs later, right now it’s family time.”

Grant came to stand next to me as everyone else filed inside. “I don’t
trust Telly,” I told him.

           
“Me either. When the
change happens he’s on board or he’s out.”

           
“He can’t hear about
our plans. He’ll go right to Marco.”

           
“Agreed.” We walked
inside together. The warmth of the restaurant felt great against my cold skin.
We hung our jackets up on a coat stand that was right by the front door. The
stairs leading to the second floor reserved for private parties was roped off.

To the left was a large arched opening that led into what once was a
living room back when this was a house for Franco’s great-grandfather, but it
had long ago been converted to a dining area for the restaurant. Uncle Franco
had moved all of the tables together to form three long rows. Uncle Marco sat
at the head of the middle row and his wife, my Aunt Paulina, sat to his right.
He was talking to Miranda, gesticulating with both hands, even though he held a
full glass of red wine in one. Every time he moved, wine threatened to spill
onto the white tablecloth. My dad had taken a seat at the head of the table
closest to the brick fireplace that had a roaring fire and Uncle Al sat at the
head of the table by the archway. I went to sit next to my dad, on his left and
across from my mom. Grant took a seat next to Miranda.

A giant Christmas tree, the gold star on top almost touching the nine
foot ceiling, took up most of the front window area. Its white lights added to
the soft glow already provided by multiple tea light candles on the tables and
from the fireplace. Poinsettias were placed randomly throughout the dining
room. I looked across the table at my mom and smiled at her. Eva was off in the
corner playing with a few cousins; her earlier scare seemed to be momentarily
forgotten. I was glad the shooting tonight was just a warning, but it also
served as a reminder of how tenuous business negotiations in our world could
end. It’s not like the suits in corporate America settled their disputes with
bullets.

Aunt Gloria, Uncle
Franco and their daughter, Bianca, came out of the kitchen each carrying a
giant platter of their signature fried calamari. Steam wafted up from the
heaping piles of crispy deliciousness and my stomach growled when the scent
drifted over. They set the calamari down at the head of each table, but I knew
they weren’t done. Less than five minutes later each table had three platters.

Uncle Marco led grace
and we all stood, joining hands for a show of thanks.

           
“We have a lot to be thankful for this year. I know it
was a rough summer and we lost some friends. We almost lost our boy, Dom. But
we didn’t. As we gather today, we need to thank our Lord for keeping watch over
us and may He continue to do so. Amen.”

We murmured amen and
Marco ended with a loud, “Mangia!” Wine was poured and the first course
devoured. I remembered the blissed out expression on Natalie’s face when she
first tried Aunt Gloria’s calamari. I had fed her a piece and she had closed
her eyes, licked a tiny spot of marinara sauce off of her bottom lip then let
out a moan. It had taken every ounce of willpower to stay in my chair and not
take her right there in the kitchen.
 

As if she read my mind,
Aunt Gloria came to a stop behind my chair and leaning over, she whispered in
my ear, “Have you heard from Natalie?”
 
I
shook my head no. “I’m sorry, hon. I liked her.” She patted my shoulder before
picking up the empty platter.

“Thanks
Aunt G., I miss her.”

“I
bet you do.” She left to go grab the next course which was broiled flounder and
baskets of risotto balls. More wine was poured, this time a pinot grigio, and
we dug in. I caught my mom looking at me. “What?” I asked.

She dabbed the corner
of her mouth with the red cloth napkin before responding. “Do you think Natalie
will come back? Maybe it’s time to move on.”

I put my fork down and
felt my lips form a narrow line. I wasn’t having that conversation here in
front of everyone. Removing my napkin from my lap, I set it on the table and
excused myself. When I stood up, I noticed Uncle Marco watching me and I knew
he had heard my mom’s question. Looking away, I walked outside to get some air.
I had just sat down on the freezing cold marble steps when I heard the door
open, a chorus of voices spilling out briefly before the door clicked shut. I glanced
over my shoulder to see Grant. He took a seat next to me at the top of the
stoop.

           
“What’s up?” he asked.

           
“This would have been my first Christmas with your
sister. I don’t even know what traditions your family has?”
 

           
“Uncomfortable silence is one,” he said with a caustic
laugh. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked off into the distance, deep in
thought. “Nat and I would bake cookies together. My mom doesn’t get into the
holiday spirit, so Nat would get rolls of cookie dough from the grocery store
and we’d spend an afternoon baking. I’d roll the dough out and we used all the
Christmas themed cookie cutters. Of course we’d annoy each other. Nat hated it
when I flung flour at her.”

I laughed at the
visual, picturing Nat trying to look indignant, her hands on her hips giving
Grant an earful, all while covered in flour.

“This
was something I always looked forward to. We didn’t do it last year because we
were both too busy.” Grant paused. “What’s really on your mind?”

It was hard to believe
that a year ago Grant and I barely tolerated other, especially when I started
dating Natalie, but now he was able to read me so well. I guess killing people
together really was a bonding experience.

           
“My mom asked me if I thought Natalie was coming back.
Seeing her with Jason makes me wonder. What do you think?”

Grant sighed and looked
at me. “Honestly, I don’t know, but I do know Natalie loves you. She never did
relationships and for her to let you in, that’s something. If you give her time
and we provide her security then I think she’ll come back because her family is
here and you’re here.”

           
“I hope you’re right.”

           
“Come on, let’s go in. It’s fucking freezing.” Grant
stood and opened the door. I followed him inside. Marco eyed us curiously when
we entered the dining room so I stopped at his table.

“Something
I should know about?” Marco asked.

“Nah,
we were just getting some air and making room.” I tapped my stomach, which was
already full, but I noticed that big bowls of clam linguine had been brought out
and couldn’t resist.
  
Before it had been
too warm sitting so close to the fireplace, but now I welcomed the blast of
heat as I sat down and scooped some linguine on my plate. The pasta glistened
with olive oil and chunks of garlic as big as the clams.
 

By the time the fried
shrimp and crab cakes were brought out, I was extremely full and feeling sleepy
from all of the wine. Uncle Marco sat like a king at the head of his table
regaling his subjects with tales. I got up to help in the kitchen. I filled a newly
polished stainless steel coffee urn with coffee and wheeled the cart out to the
smaller dining area right outside the kitchen. Bianca followed me with a
separate cart loaded with cannoli, Baci Di Dama, small hazelnut cookies with a
milk chocolate filling, an assortment of Italian Christmas cookies dusted with
bright colored sugar and Strazzate, chocolate almond cookies that were so hard
it helped to soften them up by dipping them in coffee.

All the younger cousins
and Eva swarmed the moment the desserts were out. I grabbed a cup of coffee and
found an empty seat next to Dante at his table where he was sitting next to his
dad, Uncle Al.

           
“Hey, I heard Eva was pretty shaken up earlier,” Dante
said.

           
“Yeah, we got fucking lucky.” I ran a hand through my
hair and leaned back in the chair, filling Dante and Uncle Al in on how the car
passed us on the street before turning the corner. “They could have easily
opened up then, but they didn’t.”

           
“Definitely a warning. Sounds like we need to return the
threat,” Uncle Al said.

           
“What if we offer the same deal to the TRGs as we did the
Scorpions and expand our distribution since they each have exclusive
territory?” I asked.

           
“Because they’re fucking greedy bastards, that’s why,”
Marco butted in, slamming his fist down on the table, drawing the attention of
everyone and silencing the room. Miranda’s shoulders stiffened at his outburst.
Aunt Paulina placed her hand on top of his and whispered something. He pulled
his hand free. “End of discussion,” he said while refilling his glass with
wine.

Dante gave me a
sideways glance and I quickly looked away. Questioning Uncle Marco’s business
dealings in front of the entire family wasn’t the smartest move. He was indeed
paranoid and had been watching me closely since I got back from California. I
began to wonder if he already knew of our plans.

 
Chapter 25
 

LOS
ANGELES

NATALIE

Chelsea went back to
York for the holidays and I stayed behind. Jason had invited me to his dad’s
third or fourth home in Sonoma for the holidays, but it felt too much like
something a girlfriend would do and I wasn’t ready to be anyone’s girlfriend.
Victor invited me to Gio’s estate. He tried applying the argument that it would
be the safest place in town. While I agreed with him, I turned down the
invitation. Instead I accepted the least complicated offer, my boss’. Callie
was spending Christmas Eve at her house with her two daughters and her parents.

I spent the afternoon
baking cookies and for the first time made dough from scratch. I felt a twinge
of homesickness that Grant wasn’t with me helping to roll out the dough. He’d
be impressed with the outcome because even though the gingerbread came out a
little hard, the sugar cookies, peanut blossoms and oatmeal coconut chocolate
chip bars were perfect. I wrapped presents and then packaged up the cookies in
decorative holiday tins.

Right before I left for
Callie’s, I grabbed a half gallon of egg nog from the refrigerator. With my
radio set to the local station that played nothing but holiday songs, I hit the
road. Callie lived in the Mount Washington neighborhood, which was about a half
hour south. Traffic on the freeway and surface streets was light. By the time I
reached Callie’s house, dusk had settled over her neighborhood making the
street numbers difficult to read. Fortunately, she’d told me to look out for
the terraced landscaping with red gravel and a large palm tree that marked the
corner of her property. Callie’s house was a split level with beige siding, and
a dark forest green garage door, which I parked in front of, next to a blue
Toyota Camry.

Despite the holiday
baking and music, I was not in the Christmas spirit, mainly because I wasn’t
freezing my ass off. It was more like a warm spring night out and it felt odd.
Juggling the bags full of holiday cheer, I managed to ring the doorbell. A
little girl in an adorable red satin dress that had white and green stripes,
opened the door and stared up at me with her big brown eyes.

           
“You must be Addison,” I said, recognizing her as the
youngest daughter from the pictures Callie had in her office at Dirty. Addison
nodded, her curly auburn hair bouncing with the motion. “I’m Natalie, I work
for your mom.”

Addison stepped to the
side and let me in, eyeing up the bag full of presents in my hand. I walked
into the small tile entryway. A short flight of wooden stairs were directly in
front of me and to the left was a hallway, to the right was a spacious living
room. In the center of the main wall, a gas fireplace was on and the Christmas
tree sparkled in the corner.

           
“Nat, so glad you made it,” Callie called from the top of
the stairs. “Come on up.”

I followed Addison up
the stairs which led to an open floor plan. The kitchen overlooked both the
family and dining room. A gas fireplace flickered in the family room,
reflecting off of the hardwood floors. Callie was in the kitchen, stirring
something on the stove. The countertops were beige granite and the stove was
set in front of a small breakfast bar. An elderly couple sat in the two bar
stools. I handed the one bag that contained all of the presents to Addison.
“Can you put these under the tree?” She snatched the canvas bag and took off
down the stairs.

           
“Mom, Dad this is Natalie. She works at Dirty. Natalie,
meet my parents, Jim and Becky Stone.”

           
“Nice to meet you.” I shook their hands before asking
Callie where I should put the cookies and egg nog. After that was taken care
of, Callie handed me a glass of white wine.

           
“Can I help with anything?” I asked.

           
“Stir this until it comes to a boil and then turn the
burner to medium.”

I peered into the large
copper pot and inhaled the spices. “Is this curry?”

           
“Yes, it’s a coconut base. I need to grab some shrimp
from the freezer in the garage. Be right back.” My stomach rumbled as I stirred
the curry. Callie’s parent’s chatted with me and asked the usual questions, but
nothing too intrusive. Callie appeared with a bag of frozen shrimp and dumped
it into the creamy base. I kept stirring while Callie pulled a tray of spring
rolls from the refrigerator. She set these out on the dining room table which
was already set. Red and green taper candles in brass reindeer candleholders
made up the centerpiece.

           
‘Ally, Addison, dinner!” Callie called, her voice echoing
off the pale gray walls. She carried a tureen full of curry and a smaller one
with rice over to the table. A small stampede indicated the girls were coming
up the stairs. We sat around the table. Callie reached for her daughter’s
hands, who were sitting next to her. We all clasped hands as Ally led grace.
“God is good, God is great and we thank him for our food. Amen.” She giggled
and I couldn’t help but laugh with her. This was like the get out of jail free
card in Monopoly. Whenever I was in a situation to say grace as a kid, this was
my favorite. It was silly, but technically it counted, I guess.

           
“It’s not a typical Christmas Eve feast, but Frank and I
had a tradition where we made ethnic food from a different country each year.
It’s something I continued after he died and it feels like he’s still here with
us,” Callie explained as she passed a spring roll to me with chopsticks.

           
“I think that’s a great tradition. Thank you for inviting
me.”

           
“Don’t you have a family?” Ally asked.

Callie shushed her, but
I said, “It’s okay, I don’t mind.” Setting my spoon down, I looked across the
table at Ally. She had the same deep brown eyes as her sister, but her hair was
straight and dirty blond. She wore a solid black satin dress with a red
cardigan over top; an older pre-teen look I had seen on mannequins in the mall.
“I moved here from Philadelphia and wasn’t able to go home to see my mom and
brother this year.”

           
“You don’t have a dad either?” Addison asked. She was
quick to pick up that I hadn’t mentioned my father.

           
“No, I don’t.” I didn’t go into details. These girls
didn’t need to know that my dad chose to leave when I was five and never looked
back. Their father died in a horrible shooting, he didn’t have a choice.

           
“Like us!” She chirped and gave me a gap-toothed smile.

           
“That’s right,” I said and glanced over at Callie. She
was smiling, but her eyes shone with emotion.

After dinner, I helped
clear the table and poured egg nog for everyone. Grabbing the containers of
cookies, I followed Callie’s family downstairs. We sat around the Christmas
tree; the girls on the floor and the adults on a plush gray suede sectional.
With the fire roaring in the fireplace, it was easy to forget I wasn’t in a
warm climate. The girls were allowed to open the presents from me and they
passed a gift bag to Callie, who looked at me with narrowed eyes. She reached
in, rustling through the tissue paper and pulled out an envelope. She opened it
and gasped. I had given her a two hundred dollar gift card to her favorite day
spa.

           
“Nat, you shouldn’t have. It’s too much.”

           
“Callie, you’ve helped me out a lot, it’s the least I can
do.”

Ally squealed at that
moment and we turned to look. She was holding up a sketchbook, a set of
coloring pencils and a box of crayons. “Thank you!” She proceeded to open the
sketchbook and pencils and lying flat on her stomach on the hardwood floor, she
started to draw.

Addison came over and
hugged my legs. “I love my princess doll and pony!” The doll had long, flowing
blond hair that could be styled so I scooted onto the floor and sat next to
Addison, our backs against the front of the sofa, and helped her braid. Soon
she was off on her own playing in front of the fireplace. I wandered over to
see what Ally was drawing. She had sketched their cat Sphinx, who was sleeping
on the tree skirt underneath the tree, oblivious to anything going on around him.
Ally had the proportions down right except for Sphinx’s ears. I pointed it out
and instructed her on how to correct, giving her a tip about using a grid as a
guideline. The gridlines could be erased after the object was drawn. She was a
quick study and made her corrections.

           
“You’re talented,” I said and she beamed at me. Tearing
the sheet out from the sketchbook, she handed me her drawing.

           
“Merry Christmas, Natalie.”

           
“Merry Christmas, thank you,” I gave her a hug before
standing up to leave.

I said goodbye and
Callie walked me to the door. “You’re good with kids, especially helping Ally
with her drawing. You should be a teacher.”

           
“I’ve thought about it, but…maybe someday.” I smiled,
thanked her for a great evening and stepped out into the balmy night.

           
“Oh, Nat, I forgot to tell you. My accountant was working
on the year-end paperwork for Dirty and your social security number was kicked
back as incorrect. I guess the last two digits were transposed on your initial
paperwork. We fixed it, but thought you should know.”

           
“Oh, okay, thanks!” I waved and walked to my car trying
to keep a calm presence on the outside, when I was practically shitting my
pants. I had deliberately transposed those numbers in order to stay off the
grid. Marco had Philly police officers in his pocket and if he had them looking
for me, Callie just raised a big old flag. I got in my car, the familiar fear
clenching my stomach. A few calming breaths made me realize there was nothing I
could do about it now and it wasn’t worth getting worked up over. Feeling all
sorts of Zen after my self-talk, I backed out of Callie’s driveway and drove
the speed limit home. Driving the speed limit, using my turn signal, not
getting parking tickets were all conscientious efforts I took to keep my
license plate from getting entered into the system.

After pulling into my
parking spot in front of the apartment and sat in the dark car for a few
minutes, just taking in my surroundings. The complex was quiet for the most
part. An occasional flicker in a window indicated a television was on. A few of
my neighbors had wrapped white lights around the railing of the walkway that
ran the length of the building and several doors were decorated with wreaths. A
car drove past and I froze, watching its progress in the rearview mirror, but
after the car parked I realized it belonged to a newlywed couple who lived on
the first floor. Their soft laughter filled the air as they walked by, hand in
hand, to their apartment oblivious to my presence.

At that I moment, I realized
how easily someone could be watching me.

 

***

The next morning,
someone banging on the door woke me up. With Chelsea being out of town, she
said I could sleep in her bed and sleep I did. Not being by the front door,
there was less noise and with the blinds drawn, it was as dark as a cave. The
pounding resumed on the door and I groaned, burrowing my head under a pillow.
As I became more awake, I realized that I wasn’t expecting anyone and this
thought set fire to my anxiety.

Still wearing sleep
shorts and a tank top, I crept down the carpeted hallway to the front door. I
was getting ready to peer through the peephole when the person knocked again.
Operation Stealth Mode ended when I yelped and jumped back, my heart hammering
in my chest.

           
“Princess, is that you?” Victor called.

I yanked the door open,
holding my other hand over my throat as I greeted him with a shaky laugh. “You
scared the shit out of me,” I chastised and let him in.

           
“I was knocking for like ten minutes, were you in a
coma?”

           
“No.” I stood with my hands on my hips, glaring at him.
“What time is it anyway?” Yawning, I turned and wandered into the kitchen to
make a pot of coffee. That’s when I noticed it was already afternoon. I had
slept right through Christmas morning.

           
“Merry Christmas,” Victor said and set a present down on
the counter. It was wrapped in silver paper and had a giant red bow. I lifted
the box, which was about the size of a lunchbox, and shook it. Nothing rattled
and whatever was inside was heavy. “Go on, open it.”

           
“But, I didn’t get you anything.”

           
“So, that doesn’t matter.”

Curiosity won out so I
carefully untied the bow only to shred the wrapping paper like a kid would,
making Victor laugh. Inside was a gray metal case, but it was locked. He handed
me a key and I immediately opened the case. What was inside the box made me
pause and I jerked my eyes up to meet Victor’s. “Is that real?” I asked and he
nodded. “And it’s mine?”

BOOK: Clean Slate (New Mafia Trilogy #2)
7.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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