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Without awaiting a response, I brushed by him and went to find Mikey. Andnotbecause Vito told me to, but because it was time that my brother and I talked.
Mikey was in the kitchen, chatting with our sous chef. We had a big event Saturday night, an engagement dinner, so they were probably discussing details. I didn’t see Chuck anywhere, which was weird. Our head chef was usually scowling and ordering everyone around.
I grabbed an apple from the cooler and waited for Mikey to finish up. When he was free, I said, “Got a sec?”
He winced and motioned me forward. “Yeah, let’s go outside.”
“Good idea.” Probably better not to yell at him in front of the staff. I took a bite out of the apple as I trailed him out the back door.
The air was only slightly warmer than it had been an hour ago. I could see my breath every time I exhaled. “I hear you have news.”
“Why didn’t you stand up there with me?” He shoved his bare hands into his pockets. “I know you’re mad, but it doesn’t look good to the rest of the staff.”
Had he and Vito been comparing notes? “Mikey, I’m reeling from all of this. I can’t put a big smile on my face and pretend this is what I want when it isn’t.”
“So you’re just going to let me stand up there and do that?”
“This is your fault! So, yeah, I am. And you can consider this payback for those two months when I had to stand in front of the staff and pretend I knew where you were after you disappeared.”
He rocked on his heels, his eyes on his shoes. “I fuck up a lot, I get it. But I’m trying to make the best of this, Mags, because there’s no stopping it. And he’s the mafia, for fuck’s sake! Do you really want one of us to get killed?”
Killed? No, Vito wouldn’t do that.
At least, I didn’t think he would.
“That isn’t how it works. And Luca would never allow it.” With my best friend’s husband also being mobbed up, I was pretty sure I was whack-proof.
“In case you haven’t noticed, Luca isn’t here,” Mikey pointed out. “Even if he were, it doesn't helpme. And I’d rather not end up in a ditch somewhere because you’re making Vito’s life difficult.”
“You’re not going to end up in a ditch. And I don’t give a single fuck if that man’s life is difficult or not. I want him to go away—and you should, too!”
He pressed his palms together, prayer-style. “Mags, I don’t know how many more times I can say it, but I’m sorry. I feel terrible. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. I’m a fuckin’ mess. So believe me, this isn’t easy for me. But I need you. You’re the only family I have.”
My eyes prickled but I fought it. I couldn’t cry in the freezing cold. “You need to get your shit together. I want you in Gamblers Anonymous and you need to delete every single betting app from your phone.”
“I’ve already deleted them and I swear I’ll join and go to meetings if it means you’ll forgive me. So, can we please be a team again? Because I really miss it.”
“I’ll try.” His face fell, so I rushed to say, “Really, I will. It’s not easy. And it’s worse when I feel like you’re buddies with him.”
“We aren’t buddies, but he’s our new boss. Who is literally a boss. I have to work with him, even if I don’t like it.”
I stared off into the distance, unseeing, my mind racing with everything that had happened these past few days. I had so much anger and confusion built up inside me that I almost didn’t know where to start. “Why, Mikey? You know how important this winery is to me, to our family. I thought it was important to you, too. So why on earth would you ever risk it on a stupid game of cards?”
“I . . . ” He exhaled and shifted on his feet. “I’m really good at cards and every time I go to the casino, I win. This time I thought I could win enough money to finally help us get ahead.”
“God, Mikey,” I said, closing my eyes briefly. “That is both really sweet and incredibly stupid.”
“I know. But I’m twenty-six, Mags, and I feel like a big fucking failure all the time. This shit is hard. And sometimes . . . ”
“Sometimes, what,” I prompted when he fell silent.
“Nothing.” Mikey rubbed a hand through his short hair. “It just sucks. All of this sucks.”
“Agreed.” I paused and studied him. There was something underneath all of this, an emotion my brother hadn’t expressed before. “Mikey, you can talk to me, you know. If you’re unhappy, I mean.”
“I know.” But he didn’t say anything more, just stared off into space.
I decided to change topics. “You agreed to let Vito stay in the guest cottage.”