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Amelia---Takeout

The half-empty cartons of Chinese food are littered around us. I look at the woman across the table, her red hair freely tumbling down her broad shoulders, and the light in her green eyes is contagious. Parker’s head is tilted back as she loudly laughs at something she’s thought of. I watch as she pushes the sleeves of her cream striped sweater up to her forearms, slightly shaking my head as a smile pulls at my lips. Gods only know what is running through her head at any given time.

She’s my best friend, and for the longest time, my only source of solace. Parker has seen me in all my forms and variations. The daughter of a man who would never lead, Parker understands the inner workings of my world innately. After all, Seamus O’Donnelly is her uncle. Duncan walks by, stopping to quickly kiss the top of her head, before leaving the room again.

My thoughts turn to the conflict with Medina and I find myself staring at the wood grain in front of me. It’s a red oak table, ornately solid and meant for a family. There are four empty chairs and I wonder if they will ever be filled. Parker has always dreamed of a large family.

“Ames, you okay?” I glance up, her voice breaking my stupor, and I can see the concern on Parker’s face. She scrutinizes me, those emerald orbs missing absolutely nothing. “You disappeared there for a second.”

I pull my leg up, putting my foot on the chair cushion and meet her eyes. There is no hiding in this moment, not with her.

She is the one person who will maintain your dignity despite everything being thrown at you. She is my rock, my ride-or-die.

“I’m just worried. I’m sure Duncan has told you about the issues with Medina and how he’s trying to turn my men against me.”

She reaches for a carton in front of her, plucking the chopsticks from it and snagging a piece of Szechuan beef. Her face is contemplative and I see her mind working out a solution. She grabs another piece before returning her eyes to me.

“I don’t care what Duncan told me. I want you to tell me, girlfriend. I’ve never heard of this Medina. What is this arsehole doing that has you so rattled?” She slowly chews, an eyebrow arched in challenge.

I rest my chin on my arm that is sitting on my knee, the softness of my black leggings grounding me. “Alonzo Medina wants my seat, Parker. The man just took control of his Outfit after his dad passed and he thinks he has the audacity to try to turn my men against me.” I take a deep breath, running my tongue across the front of my teeth before continuing. “I had to call every last man in to remind them who they work for.”

She hums, waiting for me to continue.

“One of the Capos had the nerve to call me by name. He swore that my men are loyal but you didn’t see the look on their faces when I asked the questions, Parker. Never have I felt that level of unease sweep among made men.”

I move, taking the last spring roll from the table.

“On top of that?” I take a bite, chewing slowly. “I had to make an example of the Capo, reminding my men what happens when they cross me. I used a blade on my own man, Parks. I sliced one of my own.”

“That’s a lot.” Her eyes bore into mine, the weight within them familiar.

“I didn’t have a choice, I don’t think. I couldn’t let them think I was weak. It all just is so fucking heavy. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Ames.”

I sigh. “It’s whatever, at this point. I just don’t want men to think they own everything, Parker. Why can’t I simply run my men? I paid my fucking dues that night but apparently that isn’t enough.”

“What does Duncan think about it? Is there a game plan?”

I scoff. “Duncan would have me wait it out and see what the other families do in response. In his words,” I drop my voice to mimic Duncan. “‘I can’t kill someone I can’t find, Amelia.’” I see a small smile on Parker’s lips at my imitation of her husband.

“I mean…”

“What is the point of having an Underboss if they can’t find my enemies? What is the fucking point of having men sworn to the Family if they can’t find one man who should be on everyone’s fucking radar? Must I do everything myself all the damn time?” I hear my voice start to rise, agitation building.

Parker just sits across from me, watching and waiting. This is what makes her so damn good at her job. Parker has this uncanny way of making someone tell her the darkest parts of themselves and feeling safe in doing that. Many of her customers tell her things they’d otherwise keep to themselves.

“So Duncan can’t find him, your soldiers are useless—and likely being swayed to consider turning against you.” Parker pauses, her eyes scanning the cartons for her next bite. “Maybe you need to compel Medina to come out from the shadows. I mean, it would be straightforward, really.”

I consider what she’s suggesting. Medina has been taunting me and I haven’t been aggressive in my response. She’s right though; I have to draw him out, playing on his weaknesses.

“Although, I don’t think Rhodes would be very happy about it.” It is an off-handed comment, one that I likely wasn’t supposed to hear but Mafia women hear all.

“He doesn’t get a say, Parker.”

“How are things with him, anyway? I know you say that Rhodes’ doesn’t get a say but how are things otherwise?”

I duck my head and let a small smile slip.

“They’re good.”

“Good? Just good?” I look at her through my lashes, seeing the smirk on her face. I roll my eyes before throwing a napkin at her.

“They’re really good, okay? He’s the perfect gentleman. You know he told me to order whatever I wanted at dinner?” I see her eyes sparkle at that and I keep rambling. “And he didn’t flinch when I asserted my position over the waiter.”

She hums, setting back in her chair and crossing her arms. “Rhodes is good looking too.”

I feel the heat creeping up my cheeks. “Yes, he is good looking, okay? I’m not immune to those blue eyes and yes, I would like for his shirt to come off at some point so I can stare at him. I am still very much a woman, Parker.”

“You like him.”

“I can’t have him.”

She opens her mouth to respond but is interrupted by the slamming of a door. I hear Duncan rustling in the other room and Parker rolls her eyes. It isn’t long before he calls out, asking where the ice cream is. Parker shakes her head before yelling back.

“It’s in the freezer, sillyhead. Maybe if you opened your eyes, you’d see it.” A small chuckle escapes her and I smile at their playfulness. She turns back to me, her nimble fingers playing with a charm hanging from her neck, and I know our conversation isn’t over.

“We’ve always said that if women actually ruled and sat on thrones instead of men, we wouldn’t have these silly annoyances. Perhaps, it is time you remind these fuckers just who Amelia Conte is.”