She stands and puts everything back into her bag. Ella and Fitz are reclining on the grass, rolling around and enjoying the sunshine.
“Remember,” Cordy says, “Social interaction. Go out, meet some girls. Get laid. Pretend to have a little fun. Who knows, you might have some by accident.”
I snap her a salute. “Yes, ma'am.”
“I'll give you a call in a day or so,” she says. “Update you on things.”
“Hey,” I say, stopping her as she turns to leave. “Thank you, Cordy. For everything. I couldn't do this without you.”
She smiles, but there's a mischievous glint in her eye. “You're right, you couldn't,” she says. “Remember that when you get my bill.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Always the shark.”
“That's me. Love you,” she calls over her shoulder as she heads back into the house.
“Yeah, love you too.”
I turn back to my scone, determined to finish it and enjoy a little more sunshine.
Chapter Six
“You wanted to see me?”
I look up from the papers on my desk. “Yeah, thanks for coming, Miguel,” I say. “Come on in, have a seat.”
Miguel drops into the chair across the desk from me, looking at me curiously.
“Listen,” I start, “about the other night. At Harry's –”
He shakes his head. “Don't sweat it, boss,” he says. “I get it. The guy's a douchebag and deserved to have his head kicked in.”
“Yeah, but I don't usually lose my cool like that.”
Miguel shrugs. “It happens to us all, boss,” he says. “Believe me, I've seen worse.”
Growing up in the neighborhood we were at the other day, I don't doubt his words. It's a rough neighborhood and even though I'm a pretty big guy and can take care of myself, it's not a place I'd want to be in at night. Miguel had always told me he'd grown up in a tough neighborhood, but seeing it with my own two eyes was something entirely different.
“So, listen,” I say, “I just want you to know that I value you as an employee and everything you do for me –”
“Wait, wait, wait – are you firing me?” he asks, cutting me off.
I grin. “Not at all, actually.”
Although I do believe in keeping things professional with most of my guys, I have to admit that things with Miguel are different. He's a good man and has my utmost respect. I'd almost go so far as to call him a friend. Not that I really know what a friend is, given that I have so few.
My father would shake his head and probably give me a good smack for my relationship with Miguel. He'd say it's stupid and that I'm setting myself up to catch a couple of bullets in the back of the head. Guys like us aren't supposed to have friends. We're the top of the food chain. The apex predators. And we look down on everybody – especially, who he'd call “the help.”
But, I'm not my father. And although I respect him for a lot of things, I am doing everything I can to do things differently than he did. I'm doing everything I can to not become him.
“You sure?” Miguel asks. “I mean, if there's something I did or you're not happy with me for some reason, I can –”
Without comment, I slide one of the documents Cordy had me sign across the desk to him, cutting him off. Miguel picks it up and looks at it, confusion crossing his face. After puzzling it over for a couple of minutes, he looks up at me.
“What's this?” he asks.
“That is the deed to your mom's new house.”
“The what?”
“I know how much you hate having your mom and sister living in such a – rough – area,” I say. “Believe me, I understand.”
He cocks his head and gives me an inscrutable look. Yeah, the rich boy who had every privilege possible can understand growing up in a neighborhood like that. I grin and shake my head, realizing how stupid that sounded.
“Okay, sorry. That was stupid,” I say. “What I meant was that I can understand wanting to take care of your mom and sister.”
I pick up a frame on my desk and hand it to him. It's a picture of my mom, older sister, and me, taken at my college graduation. My father had business to deal with, so he couldn't come. But I remember that day like it was yesterday. And there's not a day that goes by when I don't think about my mom and sister – and miss them like crazy.
Miguel holds the deed up, his expression no less confused than before.
“That house – it's to help you take care of them,” I say. “It's to get them out of that neighborhood and somewhere nicer. Somewhere they don't have to worry about walking down the street at night. It's my gift to you and your family, Miguel. For everything you do.”
He shakes his head and slides the deed back across the desk to me. “I appreciate it, boss,” he says. “But that's too much. I can't take that.”
I slide it back to him. “Call it an early Christmas bonus,” I say. “Seriously, Miguel. I appreciate the fact that you're a proud man. I get it. But you work your ass off and put your life on the line for me every single day.”
“I don't know about that –”
“Trust me,” I cut him off. “You do. And this is the very least I can do to repay that. Having your family in a safe place is going to bring you a little peace of mind, right?”
He reluctantly nods. “Yeah, probably so.”
“Then, it works in my favor because you'll be a little more clear headed and focused,” I say. “So, see? Not such an altruistic gesture after all.”
A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth and as Miguel looks at the deed in his hands, I see tears welling in his eyes. He quickly wipes them away and then looks up at me.
“Thank you, Mr. Rossi,” he says. “I – I don't know how to repay –”
“Just keep being good at what you do,” I say.
“Count on it.”
We stand and shake hands. The smile on his face is wide and the tears of happiness roll down his cheeks unabashedly.
“I - I don't even know how I'm going to tell her,” he says, his eyes fixed on the paper in his hand.
“Take the day,” I say. “Figure it out.”
He nods and then looks at me again for a moment before pulling me into a manly, bone-crushing embrace and pounds me on the back with joy.
“Thank you, Mr. Rossi,” he says. “I can't thank you enough.”
“You're welcome,” I reply. “Now, go take care of your family.”
I smile watching Miguel practically sprint out the door. I like trying to do some good where I can. Makes me feel like I can undo some of the pain and suffering my father caused. And as the head of one of New York's most ruthless crime families, he caused a lot of pain and suffering. I like to think that it's not because he was a bad or an evil man. He wasn't a cold-blooded killer who liked watching people suffer. But, he was definitely a bare-knuckled brawler when it came to business.
I loved my father, don't get me wrong. But, being his only son and heir to his empire, my relationship with him was always – complicated. In many ways, I'm the man I am today because of him. I'm grateful for the many lessons he taught me and for the things I learned from him. Always will be.
But, as I look at the picture of my mom, sister, and me again, I know that in all the important ways – the ways that matter to me, at any rate – I'm the man I am today because of those two remarkable women. They were always my moral compass. Always encouraged me to do the right thing – even if it meant butting heads with my father over it.
It was my mom and sister who encouraged – practically forced, truth be told – me to go to college. To pursue my dreams. It was my mom and my sister who I credit with making me a half-way decent person.
And I know in my heart of hearts that they would both be very happy with me dismantling my father's criminal empire piece by piece and replacing it with a legitimate one.
My only wish was that they could both be here to see it. To share in it with me. But they were taken away from me far too soon. And for that, I have my father to blame. And it's the one thing I'll never, ever forgive him for.
Chapter Seven
Harper
Manhattan
“Wait, are you serious?” I ask.