by Maria Dean
Christian was talking with his hands, telling a story from his childhood where his brothers got him in trouble for stealing a horse. This man had a childhood horse, Astrid realized. Christ. They weren't just weirdly attractive. They were wealthy as shit. She tuned back in for a moment. "We went to the Hamptons, and I threw a fit because I couldn't bring the horse with me." He tossed out traveling to the Hamptons like it was nothing.
Oh, right, Astrid wanted to say, I really hate it when the Hamptons don't let me bring my oversized safety violation of a pet. She wondered, for a moment, if Christian even knew she wasn't at the same economic level as he was.
"What are the Hamptons?" Astrid asked. Though they were in front of the deli, the look of confusion on his face was more delicious than the sandwiches she could smell inside. Keeping her lips pursed, Astrid followed it up with, "No, really. I'm not sure what you're talking about."
Christian opened his mouth to say something but shut it. Three times. He finally stuttered, "O-oh. I didn't realize. I'm sorry."
Astrid held the door open for him. Keeping up appearances, she said, "They're a hotel chain, right?" He started to try to explain but she cut him off. "Why is it always Hamptons plural? Are you going around to different locations every day?" She lowered her voice. "Do you get a punch card?"
He blinked. "What's a punch card?" She waited for him to smile and pull back the curtain. He was clearly getting back at her for the Hamptons comment.
Christian just stared at her, waiting for an explanation.
Oh my god, Giovanni was right. He is an idiot.
Astrid pulled her wallet out and took a flimsy white card out of one of the pockets. It had the deli's name, Jackie's Deli and Grocery, written across the top in faded blue cursive. "A punch card," she explained, "incentivizes purchasing products from the same store. After a certain amount of purchases, you can get a discount." She led him to the back of the deli, weaving through shelves of canned food and dry goods. The sandwich counter wasn't too busy at that time of day. Astrid nodded up at the chalkboard above the counter. "Pick out a sandwich. If I get mine, I'll have enough punches to get yours for free."
"That's amazing," Christian said, wide-eyed.
Astrid shrugged. "It's a good way to save money and keep a loyal customer base. Come on, pick out a sandwich."
A scrawny teenager swept behind the counter. "Can I help you?" His voice cracked in the middle of his sentence.
"I'll have a number 12," Astrid ordered. "Christian?"
He was still scanning the menu. "I'll try the number 13," he decided.
Triple cheese grilled cheese sandwich with sliced ham. A safe option for someone who never shopped at the deli. The little sandwich man put their sandwiches on the press and rang Astrid up in the meantime. She handed him her punch card. "Hey, that's some good timing," he noted as he tore the card. "Second sandwich is on the house."
"Do you want a drink?" Christian asked her, eyeing a fridge filled with San Pellegrino. He picked up a lemon drink and waited for Astrid to respond.
"I'll take the pomegranate one, if you're offering," she replied.
Christian paid for their drinks and handed her the can. She cracked it open as he wandered around the aisles. "This place is pretty cool," he said. "How d'you find it"
"It's the cheapest spot in the area that isn't a fast-food restaurant," Astrid explained. "Plus, it's fast, and usually I have an hour to eat lunch."
"12 and 13," the scrawny sandwich kid announced. He handed Astrid the greasy sandwich bags across the counter.
She thanked him and pulled Christian out of the shop. "Do you have your bus card?" She asked him. He frowned. "You know, to get to the Walker?"
"Oh. I was just going to take my car." He patted down his pockets, trying to pull out his wallet. "We can take the bus for a better experience, if you want."
Astrid ignored the 'better experience' comment. She wasn't in the mood to ask him what that meant. She'd found there was a perception amongst her wealthier clients that certain aspects of city life, like transit, were more 'authentic' ways to view the city. 'Authenticity' trivialized daily behaviors which, for Astrid and many other working-class citizens, were normal.
"Let's just take your car," she said, writing his comment off. It would at least be faster this way.
He'd parked his car out in front of her office. Astrid was only a little confused, as his headquarters was easily within walking distance. "Did you drive from your job to mine?" She asked.
"Oh, I wasn't really coming into work today. I just wanted to stop by and say hello!" They hopped into the car and he pulled away from the street. Christian turned on the radio and, much to Astrid's amusement, began to sing along loudly to the pop song on the radio. He navigated the streets easily, bopping his head to the tune as he turned corners.
Christian sang through the top ten pop hits of the day by the time they hit the Walker. He parked on the street and jumped out, running with his sandwich and drink out to the park.
"You don't have any chill, do you?" Astrid asked Christian, amused. She shut the car doors behind her and followed him to a bench. The garden wasn't busy that morning, giving Astrid a brief reprieve from the cluttered office environment. Christian's upbeat behavior was even a refresher.
"So, Astrid Pfeiffer, tell me about yourself." Christian was staring at her again. "What's your story?"
Astrid ignored his curious gaze. The Russos just couldn't stop looking at her. It wasn't a casual, 'I'm interested in what you're saying' look. He was trying to look through her. Everyone in that family tried to look into her soul. "Nothing interesting," she said, staring into the void of her turkey panini. "My parents got together in a brief, whirlwind romance when they were young and dumb. She was a tourist in Europe, he was a pensive poet who just wanted to feel like a true human." Astrid rolled her eyes. "They were dumb, they had a kid they weren't ready to take care of, and here I am."
Christian took a bite of his sandwich. "Oh my god," he said, melted cheese hanging off the sandwich in strands. "This is amazing." He pulled a napkin from the bag and wiped grease and bits of cheese off his mouth.
"I know, right?" Astrid smiled.
The eldest Russo brother was too busy gobbling down half of his sandwich. When he finished, he cleaned his mouth off again. "So, what happened? With your parents, I mean."
She debated which version of the story she'd tell him. "They shipped me off to my hippy Aunt Nova when I was younger. By the time I was in high school they got divorced and my mom sent me to a boarding school with the child support she was getting." Nothing was ever that simple. Legally, Nova won her guardian status after Astrid's parents neglected to notice she'd run away for a day and a half. Her cabin tucked away in the North Carolina mountains wasn't an ideal place to raise a child. It was better than letting Astrid run around downtown Memphis without parental supervision again.
"You lived with a hippy?" Christian asked. "Like, peace, love, and happiness?"
"More or less." Astrid broke off another chunk of her sandwich. "Nova was a little more like a healing guru than a hippy. She made money selling natural cures and healing crystals in town. I spent a lot of time as a kid running around in forests while she looked for mushrooms."
Astrid smiled to herself, remembering a day when she uncovered a creek filled with gems in the rough. "Nova wasn't a mother by any means, and it wasn't always great, but it was certainly home." In truth, Astrid didn't like to dwell on her past. She couldn't even remember her parents that well, nor could she say her time with Nova was all sunshine and rainbows. Not only was Nova a self-proclaimed witch, she also let Astrid run free in the wilderness. It wasn't like her parents, who fought so much they sometimes forgot she existed. Nova was just flighty and wholeheartedly believed immersing Astrid in nature would heal her wounds from her parent's neglect.
I was really just Astrid losing herself in the forest and inventing strange worlds. Worlds where she was a warrior, or a princess, or literally anything
that wasn't a lonely child with no friends.
Her companion wolfed down the rest of his sandwich. "It sounds beautiful," he said. "Please tell me you played imaginary games in the woods. There's no way I would be able to live near the woods without doing that."
That's what got her. Astrid gave him a full grin. Though her memories were fuzzy, she could remember the lands of cotton candy skies with eternal sunrises. Worlds with mermaids and sentient animals that found a young Astrid endearing. "You bet your ass I did," she nodded. "My favorite game was the one where I found a world filled with dragons. I liked to pretend I was a dragon rider, a legendary warrior from another world."
Christian tensed next to her. "Really? You like dragons?" There was a hint of amusement in his tone. "Guess we have that in common. I wasn't a dragon rider, though. I was always the dragon. So much power for one creature."
They finished their sandwiches, chatting on and off about Astrid's life and Christian's company. He was curious to learn about her life but didn't really enjoy sharing details about his. Astrid wrote it off as him being secretive, just another strange facet of the Russo family. When they finished, he drove her back to her office.
"I'll be seeing you," he assured her. "If you ever need anything, I'm just down the street."
You're the one who seems to need things from me, she thought to herself. She nodded anyway, leaving his car to return to her cramped office.
Winston was inside, expertly balancing his coffee with his phone and two manila folders. "I'll definitely be in touch, Mr. Crampton. Fergus's will is a top priority." Winston stuck his tongue out at Astrid and made a face like he was more annoyed than sincere. "Thank you. Buh-bye." He set his phone down with a groan. "When will people learn you can't write a will for a dog?"
"Never, apparently." Astrid shook her head. Plopping down in her chair, she checked her watch for the time. There were still a few hours of daylight left before her next client. Her eyes trailed down the back of her hand to where Lorenzo had written his number. "Hey Win," she said, "if someone wrote his number on the back of your hand, would you call him?"
"Depends," Winston replied. "Is he cute?"
Astrid pictured Lorenzo the second time around. Dressed in a suit and with his wild hair tied back, he was cute. Handsome, even. She couldn't deny all the Russo family (and she meant all of them) were attractive. It made her question why the upper-class aristocrats wanted to pursue her, a significantly less wealthy, sometimes attractive will executor. "I suppose," she said to Winston. "But I met him at a funeral."
"Oof, a big no in my book." She could always trust Winston to help her out.
Astrid stopped staring at Lorenzo's number and turned back to her computer. The files for Amanda Smith were still on the screen. She shuddered, thinking about Ronald Hope again. That man was hiding something.
Everyone's hiding something, she corrected herself. It's just a matter of whether you care enough to find out what it is. In Ronald's case, Astrid decided she had better things to do.
The next time Astrid ran had contact with one the Russo heirs, it was Irene. She sent Astrid an email, inviting her down to their animal shelter on a rainy Saturday. Irene was more down to earth than the rest of her cousins. She contacted Astrid like a normal person, via her business e-mail.
What was refreshing is that she didn't spend any time staring at her like she was a creature from the deep. That was her one major complaint with Christian. Though she warmed up to him as their lunch went on, he continued to look at her like she was a shiny new toy.
Irene's shelter was a short bus ride away from Astrid's apartment. The forecast predicted thunderstorms all day threatening to trap Astrid inside. As a solicitor who spent most of her time in an office or the homes of her clients, Astrid tried to spend as much time as possible outside. She hated feeling trapped inside when the weather was sunny. Rainy days forced her to find things to do inside. Typically, this resulted in binge watching old horror movies and eating popcorn.
The shelter was a welcome distraction. It was smaller than Astrid expected, though she scolded herself for thinking the Russo family would ever be exactly what she expected. It was rather homey. A weathered brick storefront with worn curtains in the windows. Astrid approached the window and spied two cats cuddled together on a white carpet. They were tiny, no older than 10 weeks by Astrid's best guess.
"Astrid!" Irene heaved the door open. "Come in, come in." She ushered Astrid inside the shelter. "I didn't keep you waiting for too long, did I?" She nudged an old orange cat away from the door.
Stripping out of her rain jacket, Astrid laid it over her arm and leaned down to pet the cat with her other hand. "You had perfect timing," she said.
"Good!" Irene plucked Astrid's jacket out of her arms and put it on a nearby coat rack. "I'm so glad you could come. We have so much to talk about."
"We do?" That weird feeling Astrid got in her stomach was coming back. She and Irene had exchanged all of two sentences at the will reading. Well, a Russo is a Russo, she thought.
The confused look on her face registered with Irene. "Oh, don't worry, it's just about Matilde. I wanted to apologize for her behavior and maybe clear some things up for you. I understand my cousins have been terrorizing you."
Astrid snorted. "Terrorizing is one way to put it, yeah."
"They're definitely characters," Irene replied. "Let me give you a quick tour before we get into that story." She picked up the orange cat who tried to escape. "We can put this old man back in his bed too."
Tentatively, Astrid reached out to pet the cat. It sniffed at her hand, licking the ridges of her fingers when it decided it liked her. "What's his name?"
"Romeo." Cat in hand, Irene invited Astrid in. Irene explained the shop floor was the shelters sitting room, where guests could play with adoptable cats and dogs. When the shelter was low on visitors, Irene liked to let some of the animals out to stretch their legs. It was also good marketing as they attracted attention from window shoppers.
The cat corner, as Irene called it, was in the shops locked back room. Irene shifted Romeo's weight into one arm and dug the keys out of her pocket with her free hand. "It would be easier if I got a code on this door. Are you a cat person or a dog person?" She asked, opening the door and letting Romeo hop out into the room.
"Both," Astrid answered. "My aunt liked to bring strays into our house when I was younger. I think it mattered more if the animal liked me and not the other way around."
Astrid knelt next to a calico cat and stroked the side of its stomach. The cat rolled onto its back and began to wiggle around, begging for a belly rub. Astrid chuckled and pet the cat's stomach as it mewled.
Irene headed to a shelf filled with bags of cat food. The bags looked at least twice as heavy as the shelter owner, who was the smallest of the Russos. To Astrid's surprise, Irene grabbed a bag and carried it over her shoulder like it was nothing. She dropped it on the ground near the back of the room and pulled a knife from her pocket. "That's a good way to look at it," she said as she began to fill up bowls with cat food. "You can be a cat person all you want, but if the cat doesn't like you, it doesn't matter."
Astrid nodded, still petting the calico. "What about you? Cats or dogs?"
"Actually, I prefer lizards," Irene looked back at her and grinned. "Smaller and less fur to clean up." She finished pouring out the food and returned the bag to its place on the shelf. "Come on, I need to feed the dogs too."
There were fewer dogs than there were cats as there was limited space for them. The dog den was the same size as the cat corner, but they also had access to the patio area at the back of the shop. The dogs came in a variety of shapes and sizes, from an old black and brown Doberman to a young and yappy white Chihuahua. Astrid found herself drawn to a black and white Australian Shepard puppy with mismatched eyes. "Does this one have a name?" She asked Irene.
She giggled, "that's Moon Moon. My second cousin named him. Beatrice's kid."
"She has a kid alr
eady?" Astrid knew she shouldn't be too shocked. Beatrice was the oldest of the cousins and probably had a few years on Astrid. "Wow."
Irene nodded as she began a similar process for feeding the dogs. "Bea's the next in line for the Russo family fortune. It's essential she raises an heir to someday take her place."
"You know, I'm not really sure how your family works," Astrid admitted. "Does everyone only inherit things from their grandmother?"
The Irene shook her head, filling up the bowls. She was immediately swarmed by dogs and had to sprint away with the extra food before the dogs smelled it. "Grandchildren only receive an inheritance gift from the living family leader. Since the new matriarch, Maria, isn't my mom, my kids won't get anything from her. Basically, anyone who's not in line to be a matriarch or a patriarch passes their things down to their children on their own accord." That family had some money if those bequests were just gifts.
Moon Moon tried to chew on Astrid's shoes. She picked him up and turned him away from her feet. The first born becomes the next in line, right? How does that work with twins?"
Irene's eyes twinkled. "We're very lucky Chris and Gio aren't in line for leadership," she said.
Finished with the dogs, Irene and Astrid left the dog room. Moon Moon squeezed through the door, following at Astrid's heels. "Little bastard escapes all the time," Irene said as she went deeper into the shelter. "You're lucky Astrid likes you, aren't ya?" she teased Moon Moon.
The puppy barked and nuzzled Astrid's legs. "I think that's a yes," she said.
Irene held another door open for her. "If you want to take him home, I can help with that," she offered. "He needs a good person to love him."
Astrid eyed the dog as she stepped into the next room. Irene's office, she guessed. "I don't think my apartment allows dogs. I'll think about it though." Irene took a seat in a leather chair behind her desk. Astrid took an armchair across from her, with Moon Moon jumping up into her lap. "So, your family."