Mrs Mariano: Part 1

by L Neil

  As much as I want to fight this dependability, it actually feels nice to have someone take care of me for once. Somewhere in back of my mind, there is a part of me protesting, telling me not to fall into such a weak role. I quiet the voice to focus on the present.

  This room is far more masculine than the guest room, with dark timber wall panels, heavy drapes, red, oriental rugs and brown, leather chesterfield armchairs. The green felt on the pool table glows under the warm lamps.

  Simon finally realises he should start paying attention to the lady in the room, so he makes his cue vertical, resting the bottom end on the floor.

  A moment passes before he takes a hand off the cue to stroke the poorly formed goatee on his chin. “You brought me the Gatti girl.” So, he recognises me. “Niiiiice.” He smiles smugly.

  My stomach churns.

  Frank leans my way to whisper, “Trust me,” and then strides over to Simon who looks more unsure of himself by this point.

  I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans as Frank claps Simon on the shoulders and declares, “Simon, Ms Gatti and I are to be married. Very soon.”

  The shadows cast by the billiard lamps accentuate Frank’s evil features.

  Simon is suddenly still, afraid to move.

  My own body wants out of this room, so badly. But I have to stay. This man is the reason why I am even here. I have been terrified for the past six weeks that he will kill someone I love. So, I hold my head up high and pretend that I am not shaking in my boots.

  The Adam’s apple in his throat bobs. “Mr Mariano, S-sir, I…” he stutters, “…congratulations.”

  He holds out his hand for Frank to shake.

  The moment lasts forever as Simon’s hand is suspended there. If Frank refuses, the outcome would be bad, I know it.

  Frank looks to me as if to ask what I want him to do. Half of the men waiting outside must belong to Briggs. It would be a bloodbath if he were to hurt Simon.

  I slowly nod, closing my eyes briefly to show that it’s all good.

  Finally, Frank shakes Simon’s hand who is so relieved, his gold teeth make a reappearance as he smiles once more.

  “Now,” Frank booms, giving both myself and Simon a fright, “we have a debt to settle, don’t we?”

  Simon holds up both hands, cue falling into his body. “Ain’t no debt to settle here, sir. Consider them dollars a wedding gift – all one point one mil of ‘em.”

  I press my lips tightly together because the need to sob is overwhelming. I didn’t know how much my father owed.

  God damn it, Jimmy.

  Frank strolls over to the drink cabinet in the corner of the room and scribbles on some paper. He tucks it into Simon’s jacket pocket, taps it and says, “I forfeit the rest of the game. You win.” Then, he smiles like he didn’t just consider murdering him.

  As he saunters over to me, I watch Briggs return his cue, repeatedly checking over his shoulder.

  Now, he quickly gathers himself. “Uh, see you next time, Mr Mariano.”

  Frank’s eyes are on me, not bothering to watch Briggs beeline it out the doors.

  As soon as we’re alone, I look away in humiliation. How could he want me?

  He pulls my face back by the chin and makes me look him in the eye. “Do not think it, whatever it is. I do not want to see that doubt in your face again. You are my “lady” now.”

  I breathe out a laugh at Simon's reference. Then, I think to ask, “What would you have done if I didn’t say yes to you? You obviously arranged his visit before today, but you said I have time to make my decision.”

  He wraps his arms around my waist, like lovers do. “I would have paid the man your father’s debt or used my Glock, depending on what you wanted.” He says this so matter-of-factly that it takes a moment for his words to sink in.

  “I love you in these clothes,” he changes the subject. “In my – in our – house.” His hands softly glide over my stomach and my back.

  “One point one million dollars is a lot of money, Frank.”

  Obviously keen to drop the conversation, he pulls something shiny out of his back pocket and it takes me some time to realise what it is.

  Grabbing my left hand, he says, “I wanted to make sure I had it on me so that I could give it to you when you finally agreed to be my wife. I never dreamed it would be so soon.”

  His smile makes the butterflies in my tummy dance.

  I look down at our hands as he slides the ring onto my finger. The diamond is HUGE, and it is set in a platinum band. My mind boggles. It’s too much. “I can't-

  “You can and you will.”

  He places his lips on my hand, the ring throwing flecks of white light onto his face. “And I hope this also settles your concern about my ability to pay Briggs, if I had needed him off your tail.”

  With a twist at the side of his smile, it is obvious that I had insulted him.

  But then his confidence returns, and he smirks, “That is, until you agreed to be mine. You were going to have to say yes one day.”

  The ring suddenly feels much heavier. How much is this ring worth?

  “Don’t fret, baby,” he assures me, “you’ll get used to it. There’s more where that came from.”

  Still holding my hand, he guides me outside the room – I guess that’s the end of the conversation – and addresses the biggest man waiting in the foyer – the snarling one with the long braid. “Briggs?”

  The man replies, “He has left the premises. The house is secure.”

  “Thank you, Dominic. Helena,” he motions me forward, “this is Dominic, he is in charge of security so you will see a lot of him from now on.”

  I hold out my hand and smile, despite his rudeness, but he only glances at Frank who is looming behind me. Whatever is in Frank's expression confirms that Dominic should not shake my hand.

  I drop my hand and Frank continues talking to him. “Skeleton staff only for the remainder of the day. And I’ll need you all outside, stat.”

  After Dominic passes the message on through an earpiece I hadn’t noticed and the house is completely empty, Frank turns to me and says, cheerfully, “Join me for breakfast?”

  This morning has been so bizarre that it’s weird to be reminded of a such a normal thing as having breakfast.

  “Sure,” I reply, following him to a great dining room.

  The wood panels here are dark too and the ceiling is high, with a great crystal chandelier dangling directly above the long, elegant dining table carved from dark wood.

  The room is large but somehow feels intimate and the fireplace on the other side of the table is lit. It’s impressive. But I could never just let things slide, so I enquire, “Why wouldn’t Dominic shake my hand? Is it a protocol thing?”

  The charm fades from his face as he says, “Not protocol, no. I would say...” he searches for the words, “...it is a respect thing.”

  “I don't follow.”

  He eyes me curiously. He obviously isn't used to being questioned so much but if I am to be his wife, he is going to have to get used to it.

  I stand by my question and all my future questions, too.

  A slow grin spreads across his face. “You are going to keep me on my toes, aren’t you?”

  “You’re evading.” I jut my chin, challenging him.

  “Okay,” he sighs as he rests his hands atop the back of the dining chair at the head of the table. “None of my men are to touch you...unnecessarily. It’s a rule. And not just them, either – I would expect the same courtesy to extend to other males.”

  I ponder this for a minute. That couldn’t possibly include shaking my hand or hugging, like my friends do.

  Panic grows at the thought of marrying a man who may seek to control me. I mean, I said I would do anything for Manny – and I will – but am I about to learn that my future is going to be awful?

  Only one way to find out...

  “Care to elaborate?” I ask.

  “Well...perhaps I could have been more s
pecific,” he offers gently. “The way you interact with your friends and your band members, is fine – I don’t find anything disrespectful or harmful about it.

  “I will be keeping a close eye on those family and friends of mine – us Italians can be very touchy, as you would know. But you don’t need to worry about any of that. I will always be close by.”

  He continues as if I would not be affected by his words. “Your security detail will only touch you if it is required, for your safety. They will be there when I’m not around to ensure you are safe from strangers.”

  Annnd rewind.

  “Security detail?”

  “It’s for your own safety,” he retorts.

  What have I done?

  “This is coming out wrong-

  “This is a mistake,” I say out loud, without really meaning to. And the timing is perfect – that heavy, enormous engagement ring slides off my finger and hits the polished floorboards with a metallic thud.

  The symbolism is not lost on either of us.

  I don't make a move to pick the ring up just yet. I’m looking at it in horror, trying to determine if I've just broken the most expensive piece of jewellery I have owned or possibly ever seen in my life.

  By not moving, however, I am only adding to the tension and that’s not what I want.

  But before I can say or do anything, Frank stalks over to me.

  He pulls me in and whispers frantically into my hair, “I'm sorry. I am. We will sort this out.”

  He sighs deeply, “I can't lose you, baby.” Then, his arms grow tighter around my back, trapping me.

  When he pulls back, his eyes bore into mine. “I only just got you.”

  I want to reassure him. I mean, I can’t change my mind over something that he is willing to fix. He just did me the biggest favour that I could never repay him for.

  Besides, it was silly of me to expect nothing to change. I just agreed to marry Frank Mariano. I’ll need to be open to A LOT of changes.

  “Frank,” I breathe, “it's okay.”

  He loosens his grip and steps back to slowly recompose himself. With his jaw clenched, he refuses to look me in the eye and I can't tell if he is embarrassed by his neediness or if he has just realised that I am not worth fighting for.

  In case he still wants me, I reassure him, “I can't leave you. Briggs isn’t a problem for me or my family anymore because I’m going to be your wife. If that goes away-

  He cuts in, indignantly, “If you think I would let Briggs harm you, then you haven’t been paying attention.”

  “I’m sorry that I have a hard time believing that you have these feelings for me when we only became properly acquainted two nights ago. I mean, you can’t love someone without actually interacting with them. You know that, don’t you?”

  He looks at me now. “We will have to agree to disagree on that one,” he says, flatly.

  We stand there for a moment and I try to think of a way to explain why I’m suddenly having these doubts.

  “This is just happening so quickly,” I say. “I don’t really know you and I don’t know anyone who can back you up when you say these things about... you know, watching me and...

  “I mean, how do I know you’re not lying? I have been so naive before and it cost me so much.” My voice catches on that last part and I hate that I sound so vulnerable.

  As he moves toward me again, concerned, I unintentionally shy away, stopping him in his tracks.

  It's unfair to him and I know it. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, afraid that my voice will break again if I speak out loud.

  We stay that way for some time, while I gather my thoughts.

  He is patient, a true gentleman and certainly old-fashioned. While the latter can be admirable, it has already caused an issue.

  But we are undoubtedly attracted to each other and he seems to really care for me. The whole reason I am here is for protection for my family and he has already proven that he can provide that; we will work out the rest.

  Besides, it’s the twenty-first century – marriages don’t necessarily last forever. If it turns out we aren’t meant for each other, we could always reverse this.

  I pick up the ring from the floor and slide it back onto my finger. When I look at him, the relief in his face and body makes me want to hug him.

  So, I do.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumble into his chest. “I’m sure you have a good reason for having security around.”

  Then, I pull back, and say, “And I’m sorry I doubted you about-

  “Don’t fret, my love.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “If you like, I can show you my Helena collection. I have enough evidence of my obsession to surely ease your mind.”

  My stomach flips. His words are so casual, as if stalking someone isn’t a big deal and that I shouldn’t alarmed.

  He must sense the tension in my body because he shushes me and in his rumbling voice, says, “Perhaps another time.”

  He pulls out a dining chair for me, the one closest to his.

  As I sit, he lifts the lids to the serving trays to reveal all sorts of breads and biscuits. There are little pots of cream and jams. I am starving but for some reason I am a little nervous to eat in front of him. Probably because of how intensely he watched me eat my sundae last night.

  He tells me that if I have any meal preferences, he will pass this onto Vic, the chef – because naturally, he has a personal chef.

  He lifts the bottle of Shiraz, offering to serve me a glass but I politely decline, not about to start having wine for breakfast.

  He pours himself a glass and takes his seat at the head of the table.

  CHAPTER 5

  Mrs. Mariano

  Back at my apartment, I have packed away all my belongings.

  At Frank's request, preparations are being made for me to move into his home, immediately, and at breakfast this morning, he told me that we will be married this evening in an intimate ceremony at his home.

  He explained that he has waited long enough for this to happen and I said that I didn’t mind. In a way, I’m glad that I don’t have time to agonize over the details or get cold feet.

  Tomorrow night, we will host a formal reception at the Garden District. Apparently, the invitation being sent out with short notice will not be a problem - he expects all two hundred or so invitees to attend.

  To say that I am anxious would be an understatement. I guess I better get used to this, though.

  When I open the front door and tell Dominic that I am ready, he signals to Marty to open the car door.

  Marty, bless his old soul, is on it immediately, jumping out of the sleek car opening the back door for me and then the trunk.

  Dominic gruffly informs me that he will take care of the bags and that I must wait in the car. Now that we’re no longer under Franks watchful eyes, he has taken it upon himself to be bossy and domineering. Unfortunately for him, I don’t like being told what to do. In protest, I go back inside my apartment to retrieve my four smaller bags and my guitar, which goes everywhere I do.

  Scowling, he moves inside to collect the two larger suitcases. I can see that he and I are going to have many problems.

  Oh well, at least I bargained Frank down to two men in my “security detail”.

  Yes, breakfast this morning was a very long engagement. We were able to reach an agreement on a few things that could have caused quite a bit of trouble down the track had we not discussed them from the get-go.

  For example, I only have Dominic and Marty to follow and drive me around now. I wonder if it’s too late to swap Dominic for someone else...

  We also discussed band. Frank wouldn’t dream of making me quit, in fact he expects me to continue. However, he also wants me to sing at his favourite jazz lounge bar. Luckily for him, I am quite fond of jazz.

  Also, I was to supposed to start my new job tomorrow but after our lengthy argument about whether or not I should work at all, we came to a compromise: I will delay my start date f
or four weeks.

  Because I flunked out of college, I started out in the workforce filling administrative roles in various firms and agencies. Last week, I secured a position as a Legal Administrator in a recently established firm called Mason & Charles. The start date was negotiable, so it won’t be a problem.

  In the meantime, Frank wants me to pursue music more and other creative things that I told him I would like to do.

  He was aware of my brief experience assisting in home renovations while I lived in Australia and asked if I enjoyed it. When I told him that I loved it, he asked if I would like to fix up his semi-penthouse in the warehouse district.