Page 94

“Let me make a few calls. We work with a company in the city. They should be able to help you. By the way, how’s Mancini?”
Roberto Mancini, Enzo’s father-in-law, was the former don of the Toronto clan I’d taken over, and he’d been sick with cancer the past few years. The illness was why his territory and men had been turned over to me. “Bedridden. I’m told it won’t be long.”
“Fuck,” Enzo said. “Okay, I’ll tell her after Fashion Week is over.”
“She may already know. I’m assuming Frankie and Emma are aware and have updated her,” I said, referring to Gia’s sisters. “Arrangements have been made.”
“Cristo, I’m not looking forward to that funeral. I’ll have to see Ravazzani and not kill him.”
My brother and Fausto Ravazzani were brothers-in-law and hated each another. I switched topics. “How is my replacement?” Our cousin Furio had taken over as Enzo’s consigliere.
“A pain in my ass. I miss you, fratello. It isn’t the same.”
We’d been to hell and back together, so I understood. “Ti voglio bene, fratellone.”
“I know, I know.” I wasn’t offended by his response. Enzo wasn’t one for mushy emotions, except with Gia. Switching topics, he asked, “What do I need to know about Maz?”
“He’s been amazing in the winery’s kitchen. Seems happy.”
“I hear he has a girlfriend.”
Of course Enzo knew this. “He said she has no connection to the life. She’s another chef.”
“I will still run a check on her.”
“That is exactly what he doesn’t want. He made me promise I wouldn’t tell you for that very reason.”
“Too fucking bad,” Enzo snarled. “He is my brother and I’m the head of this family, whether he considers himself in it or not.”
I grimaced. “He doesn’t want us to interfere. You have to respect his wishes.”
“Good thing you won’t tell him then, capisce?”
I pressed my lips together. Over the years my brothers put me squarely in the middle more times than I could count. Sometimes being the reasonable one sucked. “I won’t say anything.”
“Va bene. I have to go. Make things right with Benetti.”
“I will. Ciao.”
We disconnected and I stared out the window, thinking. Benetti would have to wait. Or better yet, Paloma could deal with him after she agreed to serve as my consigliere.
Maggie
I’d already started on a glass of rosé when Sam arrived at the tasting room. “Oh, my god!” A bundled-up goth chick came running up and threw her arms around me. “You have no idea how much I needed this.”
I squeezed her back. “It’s been too long.”
“Really, it has. I love Roberto and I’m glad my grandmother is dating him, but it’s kind of sad that her social life is more active than mine.” Sam studied the bottles of wine on the table. “Are we staying here or going to your place?”
“We’re going out. Choose your poison.” I waved my hand toward the bottles. “I think I’m sticking with rosé tonight.”
Sam’s eyebrows climbed dramatically. “That’s tame of you. Normally you go for bold reds. Now, what should I do? Such choices . . . ” She picked up the merlot. “Okay, I’m ready.”
I took a second bottle of rosé just in case, then tugged on my knit hat. “Let’s start walking. I have so much to tell you.”
One of our winter promotions was taking place tonight in the dining room, so there was a good-sized crowd. I felt bad not sticking around to help, but Mikey and Celeste seemed to have everything under control last I checked. Glancing over at Adam behind the bar, I asked, “Would you mind putting these away, pretty please?”
Adam gave me a thumbs up. “No problem.”