CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

"Who else calls you Jonni?"

They had left White Plains and was on the road to Manhattan. "Some of my oldest friends do. Rhonda does."

Vivian looked at him puzzled. "Who's Rhonda?"

"Mrs. Kabecky. My secretary?"

"Oh right!"

"She's been with me a long time. I'm the one who introduced her to Frank."

Another name Vivian didn't remember.

"Her husband," Giorgio said.

"Got you. She's much older than he is."

Giorgio looked at her. Was she an ageist sort of person? "Only eight years between them. There are more years between you and I than there are between the two of them."

"But we aren't married yet," Vivian said with a grin. She was only joking.

But when she realized what she had said, and what adding yet to that sentence implied, she quickly looked at him. When he didn't look at her, but was staring at the road ahead of them, she knew she had crossed a line. "I didn't mean to suggest that we would . . . That we're . . . It was just a joke."

Giorgio still didn't look at her. Not because he was offended by what she said. But because it wasn't a joke to him. It had crossed his mind. Late last night as he watched her sleep, it had definitely crossed his mind. He remembered when they slept together all those years ago and he all but asked her to join his stable of whores. But she asked him if he wanted her around just to sleep with her, or to be with her? The truthful answer back then was so that he could sleep with her, no strings attached, and that was what he told her. But now it was the other way around. He truly wanted to be with her. He looked at her. He could tell she was still distressed by her comment. He smiled. "I understand," he said to her. He wanted to tell her more, but he just wasn't completely ready to fully expose his feelings. He wasn't sure if she felt the same.

His smile was enough for Vivian. She relaxed again. She was back in her safe place again. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Ask away, Vivian. Or is it Vee?"

"Vivian.Viv.Vee.All of the above.Pick your choice."

"Do you have a preference?"

Vivian thought about it. "Viv," she said. "My baby brother always called me Viv."

"Then Viv it is." He realized what she had said. "How's your brother?"

She hunched her shoulders. "I don't know. We had the same mother, but different daddies. His daddy got custody of him when he got out of jail, and his dad asked for and received a restraining order against me."

This was news to Giorgio. "Why would he do that?"

"He said I was a bad influence on my brother. His ass hasn't been around Rog ever. He wouldn't even acknowledge him. But I'm the bad influence?" She settled back down, folding her arms. "I haven't heard from my brother since that day they arrested us."

"Do you want to hear from him?"

"Just to hear his voice and make sure he's okay? Absolutely! I heard he's doing really well with his father, and I know he always wanted to be with his dad, so I'm not trying to break that up. I just need to be certain he's okay. Then I'll be happy."

"Do you know his father's phone number?"

She shook her head. "No. They wouldn't even let me know where he lives."

Giorgio pulled up his phone icon. Then he pressed the button that said Security Chief.

The phone was answered on the first ring. "Good morning." It was Howard Zorn, The House of Janardi's security chief.

"I need contact info for a ---." He looked at Vivian.

"Alan Dexter," Vivian said.

"For an Alan Dexter."

"Here in New York?"

"Newark, New Jersey," said Vivian.

"Newark," Giorgio said over the speaker of his car phone.

"Occupation?"

"College Professor," said Vivian. "But I don't know which college."

"And you are?" asked Howard.

"What is that your business?" Giorgio fired back at his security chief. "Just get me a number," he said, and ended the call.

Vivian looked at Giorgio. She wanted to say how rude he was to people, but she held her tongue. But it brought her back to the very question she was going to ask him. "Why am I going with you to your office? You want me to clean up there instead?"

Giorgio frowned. "What's with you and cleaning? You aren't my maid, okay? Get that through your thick skull!"

Vivian was offended. "You don't have to yell at me."

"Then stop forcing me to."

Now Vivian was frowning. "I'm not forcing you to do anything. But you aren't going to yell at me like I'm some dog. For real. That's not happening."

Giorgio was so unaccustomed to somebody like her that it astounded him that he was even allowing her anywhere near him. But he realized she did make a point. Why was he yelling at her?

"And if I'm not your maid," said Vivian, "then what am I? And what am I going to your office to do?"

Giorgio felt vulnerable. And he didn't like the feeling. But she was the kind of woman that would leave him and never look back. He instinctively knew that. He had to tell her something. "Your job, if you choose to accept it, is to be with me. To stay by my side."

Vivian wanted to ask what would she do by his side, but she didn't go there. Because a part of her was elated to be with him. To be by his side. Although another part of her was concerned that she'd fall head over heels for a man who didn't' know how to keep it in his pants. Who had no clue how to love only one woman. Or how to love anybody at all. He was a difficult man. another type she declared she would never again fall for. But here she was.

She looked at Giorgio. He was such a handsome, brooding man. Such a hard man to like let alone love. But she was well on her way. She knew it nine years ago. She absolutely knew it now. "I choose to accept it," she said.

When Giorgio heard those words he looked at her and smiled. That was what he loved about Viv. She didn't go in the weeds. She kept it from the heart. He reached out his hand to her. "Shake on it?"

She grinned and shook his hand. It was instructive to her that after they shook hands, he didn't let hers go.

Several minutes later, his car phone was ringing. It was Howard. He removed his hand from Vivian's hand and pressed the icon on his car's screen. "What you got?"

Howard gave him the phone number.

"Okay thanks." But before Giorgio ended the call, he added: "Any new news?"

"We've got a lead that's somewhat promising."

"Promising or more of the same?"

"Maybe more of the same, but the guys on the ground are hopeful. The guys are on their way to Oklahoma to check it out now. But as soon as they get there, they'll be able to confirm or not. I'll know something more definite then."

"Did this caller mention a child with her?"

"No. She only knows her from work. Doesn't even know where she lives or anything like that. That's why they know they can't spook her. They'll play it cool. If it's her, they'll wait until she gets off work and then follow her home."

"Okay. Keep me posted," Giorgio said and ended the call.

"You have a tip line or something?"

"The investigators do."

"And nobody's come forward?"

"Plenty of people have come forward. But it's never been her. Or it was her a couple times down through the years, but she got away. She's crazy, but she's slick too. You can't underestimate her."

Vivian shook her head. "Why would she ever want to separate a son from his father?"

"Because she's convinced herself that I'll separate him from her by getting the courts to rule her unfit."

Vivian looked at him. "Did you plan to do that?"

"I was going to do whatever I had to do to protect the child."

They looked at each other, and then looked away. "Anyway," he said as if he was tired of even talking about his ex.

After he pressed private outgoing so that his own phone number could not be traced, he phoned Alan Dexter's number.

Vivian's heart began to pound. She knew how little Roger's father regarded her. She knew he could try to make trouble for her. But when Roger himself answered the phone, her heart soared. "Rog, is that you?" she said excitedly.

"Viv?"

She smiled a smile that warmed Giorgio's heart. Which was damn near impossible to do. But she was doing it.

"Yes," she said to her brother. "It's me. I'm out, Rog. They let me out."

"Me too."

"I know. How are you doing? Is everything okay?"

"You aren't supposed to have contact with me."

"I know and I'm not trying to get you to come live with me or anything like that. I just wanna make sure you're okay."

"I love living with my dad. His wife and their kids treat me real good. Or really well I should say."

Vivian smiled as tears appeared in her eyes. Giorgio saw those tears. "That's good, Rog. I'm happy for you. I'm glad you're happy."

"What about you? Are you happy?"

Those same tears began to fall down her face. "Oh yes. Very." She was wiping them away.

"Where do you live now?" Roger asked her.

"I'm . . . I'm still looking for a place you know. I just got out. But that's just a matter of time."

"You're still struggling in other words."

Giorgio was surprised to hear his tone.

"But that's the story of your life," Roger continued talking. "I'll call you ten years from now and you'll still be struggling. I'm going to be successful like my dad and his side of the family, and you'll still be struggling."

Giorgio couldn't believe that ungrateful brat was talking to her like that. And he wanted to give him a piece of his mind. But he knew she would take the brat's side and cuss him out. Because it wasn't his fight. If she could handle a man like Giorgio, he knew she could handle that brat.

"Anyway," said Vivian, "I'm glad you're happy."

"I'm glad you are too. But don't call back because I don't want you to get in trouble with my dad. He's powerful enough to take you down. And you're too poor to get back up," he added, and she could hear what sounded like a group of boys start laughing in the background.

"Who are they?" she asked him.

"Just some cousins. Bye, Viv," he said, and he ended the call.

When she heard the silence over the other end of the phone call, it felt like a death knell to her. As if the only string she had officially attached to anyone on earth was now severed too. And it hurt like hell.

Giorgio could feel her pain. He could feel it as if it was his heart that was aching. Why did people treat her so shabbily? She was such a good soul. The best person he'd ever met. And why, he wondered, she wasn't just filled with bitterness and hatred and anger towards every one of them? But she wasn't. She was all love.

He reached out his hand to her. She looked at that rosebud on his hand, which defined their relationship perfectly, and then placed her hand in his hand. Because she knew he was, in that moment in time, all she had. And she wasn't even certain if she had him.

He held her hand, tightly, as they rode quietly to Manhattan.