Chapter Seven

I walk down the garden path that Emelia and I had walked down barely an hour ago.

My mind is less chaotic than it was when we left the house, but my thoughts are still racing about what just happened. Not that Emelia was a bad lover. In fact, she was better than most of the girls I'd slept with, but that could also be my emotions talking.

Today had been such a clusterfuck of sadness and grief and I had gone and added in lust and pleasure. Now shame and regret have joined the party. For someone whose goal is to steer clear of emotions, I was doing a pretty terrible job.

I do feel better now, though. The heavy weight that's been on my shoulders since I left Mexico seems to have lifted almost completely.

I still miss Nonna, and wish I had been here to say goodbye properly, but it does feel easier to breathe now.

I'm still torn about what I allowed to happen—shit, what I made happen—in the lookout, but it's not like I forced myself on Emelia.

If anything, that little crush we all know she had on me when we were kids seemed to come out in full force tonight.

We all knew that Emelia liked me, and Grazia had even threatened me a few times not to take it anywhere. I had never even thought of it before tonight. She was like a sibling while we were growing up.

She wasn"t a kid anymore, though, and life had changed for us. Maybe I'm overthinking what happened. Maybe things would go right back to normal after tonight. Well, normal without Nonna, which was a whole new normal for all of us.

I run into Enzo on my way into the house. "Hey, man, didn't you go home?" I ask him.

"Luca, I swear to God, I know you have a hard time controlling your impulses but I thought today, of all days, you'd do better."

"What?"

"Emelia? Your little sister's goddam best friend? That's who you decide to fuck right after we've just said goodbye to Nonna?"

My mind races trying to figure out how he knows. Could he have seen us? Did Emelia tell him before she left? But also, why the fuck did he care so much?

"Enzo, do me a favor and fuck off," I say, pushing past him.

I'm tired and I need to shower and finally get some proper sleep. I don't have time for my big brother to sit on his moral high horse that I know is made of glass.

"No, Luca, this is ridiculous. Not only is it disrespectful, it's irresponsible. She's younger than you and looks up to you and cares about you. All you've done now is take advantage of that and possibly ruin Grazia's oldest friendship."

Everything he's saying is true, but it's still pissing me off.

"Okay, sure it was stupid. But it's not like I forced her. You have no say in my sex life, Enzo, as much as you may want it. So don't try to tell me who to fuck."

"All right, Luca. You're an adult. You can make your own decisions, clearly." Enzo's voice is cool and calm, which is usually a sign that he is beyond pissed off. "I just hope you're ready to deal with the chaos that is about to unfold, and I hope you have an apology ready for both Grazia and Emelia."

"Emelia is also a grown adult, Enzo, and trust me when I tell you that she enjoyed every minute inside that lookout, perhaps even more than I did." I'm lashing out, and I'll probably regret this conversation in the morning, but there are times when my mouth and mind just don't work together.

Enzo sighs, and I see him internally trying to decide whether or not continuing this argument is worth it. He decides it"s not, turns to leave.

I walk inside, breathing heavily and feeling a bit drunk, even though I barely had enough alcohol to intoxicate me today.

My frustration is on overdrive, and I can"t help but kick myself for the boneheaded move I pulled. Storming through the mansion"s corridors, I"m a walking pressure cooker of anger, mad at myself, and mad at the mess I"ve stirred up.

My phone has been in my room all day so that I could avoid any unnecessary drama. All my men knew what was happening, and I trust them to handle anything that comes up for a single day.

When I pick the device up, though, I can see that I should have kept my phone on me. I have fifteen missed calls, thirty text messages, and ten voicemails. Only three of those are from people offering condolences.

The partners in Mexico? Yeah, they"re not sending me any gold stars for ghosting them without a heads-up.

I had done so well at our meeting that I foolishly thought they'd understand me rushing home for a death in the family. Only I hadn't told them it was a death in the family, I had just sent a message saying I needed to postpone our next meetings as I had something urgent come up. And they had seemed to understand for the first couple of days, but then they got impatient.

I can't really blame them. In this game it's all about strategic speed, and if we let this deal lie dormant for too long, it'll no longer be profitable for either party.

"Shit," I say out loud to the empty room after listening to the third voicemail left by the Mexicans. They're already threatening to withdraw the agreement and "find someone who can get the job done".

The sons of bitches have no compassion, although I shouldn't really be surprised about that. I have some major damage control to do now if I want this deal to pull through. And I do, even with Nonna gone.

I have a job to do, and I still have to prove myself to my family. I'm glad we could give her the send-off she deserves, but I can hear her voice in my head now, telling me to stop playing games and get back to business.

She was always my biggest supporter, pushing me to think bigger and make plans. Whenever she could see that my confidence was lacking, she would take me into the garden and give me a pep talk.

She'd remind me about how this was all an ugly field when her and Nonno bought the house, and she was the type of girl who used to kill houseplants. But because she wanted her family to grow up in a nice house and be able to spend time outdoors and enjoy it, she worked for years on improving her gardening skills and now the garden was masterpiece.

It was only ten or fifteen years after they bought the house that they were able to hire gardeners, and by then all that was needed was to keep things neat. Even then, Nonna would often do the necessary work before the gardeners could get to it.

She'd tell me that the business was my garden, and I might not feel like I could do it all now, but if I wanted to grow and succeed, and build a life for my own family one day, I would need to learn.

There would be times when I'd prick myself with thorns or get covered in mud, but I had to get back out there and keep working on it.

She also used to tell me that although she loved my brother as much as she loved me. She recognized his attitude and knew that he wasn't mentoring me in the way he was supposed to.

Enzo wanted to hold onto his title of being the boss, and even Nonna suspected he was scared that with my smarts and stubbornness, I'd overtake him if he gave me the chance.

If I lost this deal, Enzo"s cockiness would become unbearable. I cannot let him think that he was right about me not being ready. Dead grandmother or not, I have to fix this, and quickly. But I can't leave here for another few days, so it's going to have to be done over the telephone.

I take a look at myself in the mirror. My exhaustion is showing very clearly on my face, and I don't know how much charm I have left in me. I do, however, know the ins and outs of this job, and I know what these partners are looking for.

It might take some polite convincing, but I'm pretty sure I can bring them back to our side.

I immediately call one of my best guys, knowing he'll pick up regardless of the time. After I fill him in on what's happening and what my plan is, I call the Mexicans back. The conversation doesn't start off too well, though.

"No, no, I don't want to hear your excuses," the boss says, cutting me off immediately.

"No excuses, Pedro, just solutions," I say quickly. "I admit, I've fucked up, but it was a family emergency that unfortunately required my full attention. You know how important family is."

"Yes, and mi familia is important too, but I answer your phone calls even when you call me at estúpido hours of the day!"

I sigh, his frustration is not what I want to be dealing with now, but I push through.

"That's why you're the boss, Pedro!" Buttering these guys up is always the secret ingredient to deals with them. Their egos are so fragile it's almost funny.

"Mmm…"

His lack of a reply is all I need to launch right into my plan for exactly how we're going to make this deal work for the both of us. And why getting someone else to do it would be the biggest mistake of his life.

He's only partly convinced when we hang up, but it's enough to allow me to get some sleep—something I've been lacking sorely ever since Mexico. I don't function well on very little sleep. I'll continue working on him tomorrow, and the next day, and the next if I have to.

There's just too much riding on this deal for me to allow any of the distractions here at home to come in between me and my work.

My thoughts rest on Emelia for a moment as I lay down on my bed, and they're pleasant thoughts for sure. I chase them away, though, so that I can get some uninterrupted rest without a sex dream keeping my mind busy when it should be asleep.