“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine, thank you,” she replied cordially. “So, how about, whichever way the council decides, we split the work among our two crews fifty-fifty?”
“Like hell,” he said.
“I have a huge crew waiting for work—”
“Me too,” Vince thundered. “What you seem to be conveniently forgetting here is that I put months of work into this project already.”
“My family really needs this,” she said quietly.
“Look, I don’t know your family’s trouble, and I don’t want to know. I’m taking over Marino and Sons, and this is the project that keeps us going for the next year.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “So what’s it going to take to make Capello Construction go away?”
“You mean me?” Rage began a slow boil within her. She hadn’t come this far just to walk away. Her family needed her. Hell, she was their very last hope.
“It’s obvious your family’s in some sort of crisis. You don’t know what the hell you’re doing. How much?”
She knew exactly how much she needed. The exact amount her dad had spent on the alpaca farm in Virginia in a misguided attempt to win her mom back. Because, of course, her mom had once remarked that alpacas were cute. The farm had been on the market for three years before her dad bought it, and now that it was back on the market, nobody wanted it. For some ridiculous reason, her dad had thought retiring hundreds of miles away on an isolated farm would keep his wife from being tempted away from him. Wrong in so many ways. Her mom was a social butterfly and, as she’d unfortunately shared with Sophia, reaching her “sexual peak.” But Manuel would know all about that.
“One million dollars,” Sophia said.
“Ha!” Vince whipped off his shades. “You’re crazy, lady.”
“I’m dead serious. You want me out? That’s what will get me out. Otherwise, I’ll see you on Tuesday, and I have a feeling it’s going to go my way.”
She stood and grabbed her purse. She couldn’t believe she’d been ogling him. He was not on her side. He wasn’t going to help her. So much for being the bigger person. No wonder their families hated each other. The Marinos were completely unreasonable and difficult. She had to do this on her own, just like everything else in her life.
He stood, crossing his massive arms, his legs braced apart like he was going into battle. “Why would they pick you? For a damn historic plaque? File some freaking paperwork? Anyone could do that! Just get out while you can before everyone finds out you don’t know what the hell you’re doing!”
She narrowed her eyes and threw his words back in his face. “Like hell.”
A ghost of a smile crossed his face, and he leaned closer, his eyes burning into hers. “This isn’t about you, Sophia. From what I can tell, you’re a good girl trying to do right, but I’m telling you this isn’t your fight. And you sure as hell don’t want to be in it with me.” He smirked.
“I can’t believe I kissed you,” she spat.
He leaned back. “Didn’t do much for me either.”
Her gut twisted. “I take back every nice thought I ever had about you.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “I’m surprised you had more than one. Then again, I did save that pretty little ass of yours.”
She sputtered, unsure if she should take a swing at him or just save all that rage and funnel it into obliterating him at the meeting.
“You’re welcome,” he added.
Her hands were in fists. “My father hates your company and, if you’re any indication, he has good reason.”
“My father hates your company too.” He nodded sagely. “We’re like the fucking Montagues and Capulets.”
She lifted her chin. “I’ve got news for you, Vince, you are not my Romeo.”
And with that she made her big exit. Her cell rang again, but the Sinatra “My Way” ringtone from her dad wasn’t nearly loud enough to drown out Vince’s bark of laughter.
~ ~ ~
Sophia drove straight to her uncle Phil’s house in Queens to visit her dad and make him help her. Her dad answered the door in a bathrobe and slippers. He was unshaven and had deep bags under his eyes. His salt-and-pepper hair was disheveled, thin, and greasy. She suppressed a sigh of frustration.
“Did you hear about your mother?” he asked on a moan.
“Yes, Dad,” she said gently. “I heard.”
“Do you think she’s just yanking my chain?”
She looked around the small living room littered with empty pizza boxes, beer cans, cheese puffs, and a nearly empty bottle of scotch, and immediately set to work cleaning up. “Where’s Uncle Phil?”
“He went to Florida on my behalf.”
Sophia froze, her hands full of pizza boxes. “You sent Uncle Phil to talk to Mom?”
Her dad flopped into a worn recliner. “I didn’t send him. He wanted to go.”
“Why?”
He shrugged, picked up a beer can from the floor and drank. “I think he’s trying to get rid of me.”
“Dad, you can come home. You don’t have to hide. We’ll replace the money. I’ve got this library project. By Tuesday, I should hear something. We can still fix this.”
“I can’t go back to Greenport. Your mother made that impossible. You think I don’t know what they’re saying about me? That I’ve been replaced by the pool boy? They’re snickering, saying I need the Viagra.”
Sophia closed her eyes, torn between a laugh and a scream. “No one is saying that.”
What they were saying was why did Joe Capello think buying his wife an alpaca farm in Virginia was going to make her stay?
She headed to the kitchen for a garbage bag.
“They’re thinking it!” he hollered after her. He grumbled some more stuff she couldn’t quite catch and didn’t ask him to repeat.
She returned to the small living room and started stuffing all the trash into the garbage bag. Something moved, darting between the paper plates. “Ahh!” She startled, heart pounding. It was a cockroach. The thing skittered away. She shuddered.
“Soph, geez, keep the noise down.” He hit the remote on the TV.
Sophia yanked the TV’s plug out of the wall.
“Hey!”
She stood in front of him, staring him down. “You need to take a shower, get dressed, and help me save this freaking company, or I swear it’s all going down the toilet! Marino and Sons is not backing off. In fact, I think they’re going to get the whole project, historic structure or not. Vince is pissed—”
“Vinny’s boy?”
“Dad, wake up!” she shouted. “Yes! The one you warned me about! Why am I even helping you?”
He crossed his arms.
She lowered her voice and said as calmly as possible, “Dad, you know I love you, and I know you’re going through a difficult time, but if you don’t help me at least a little, that’s it. There’s nothing more I can do.” She shook her head sadly. Then she said the two little words she knew would light a fire under him. “Marino wins.”
“Fine!” He heaved a sigh and pushed out of the chair, muttering about Marino under his breath. “I’m taking a shower and then we’ll come up with a plan of attack.”
“Thank you.”
Her dad stopped in front of her on his way out, love shining in his eyes. “But if anyone can take him, it’s you.” He patted her cheek. “You’ve got the Capello fire.”
“I’m not so sure that’s a good thing,” she said, feeling defeated. She felt like she was always fighting and never getting anywhere.
“Of course it’s good! Make me some coffee, would ya?”
She nodded and returned to cleaning up, carefully picking up each item with two fingers as she cringed, hoping not to make contact with another cockroach.
An hour later, she sat across the kitchen table from her dad, clean-shaven, and looking more like his old self. “I know Vince,” her dad said. “He’s just as bad as his dad, am I right?”
&
nbsp; “I don’t know! I never met his dad. Maybe you should do the presentation on Tuesday.” She would love to avoid seeing Vince again. He got her so worked up. She didn’t even feel like herself around him. She turned into a swearing, kiss-stealing ogler. That was so not her.
“I’m not ready to go back to work,” her dad said forlornly. “You don’t know what it’s like to have the love of your life just up and leave you.”
“I’m sorry, Dad,” she said gently.
“Do you think she’s coming back?” he asked, pathetically hopeful.
She answered honestly, as she always did with this question. “No, I don’t.”
He sipped his coffee. Then he set the mug down and dropped his head in his hands.
She couldn’t let him descend back into that dark place. She needed him focused. “Vince is so obnoxious. I’ll bet his dad’s like that too.”
Her dad’s head jerked up. “His dad was always so full of himself, so confident. All charm and flash.”
She nodded knowingly. “Like father, like son. Dad, I could really use you there on Tuesday. My construction background isn’t nearly as strong as yours.”
He waved that away. “My crew knows what to do. I have every confidence.” He sipped his coffee. “Does the town council like Vince?”
She brushed some crumbs off the table and into her hand, standing to throw them away. “Probably. But they were willing to listen to me.”
“That’s good. See, I knew putting you in there would be helpful.”
She sat down again. “Vince keeps going on about how your design costs a lot more, and he’s got a point. Why would they want to pay more?”
“I thought you said we could get some tax credits.”
“It’s not that much money, and it’s not guaranteed. He says the brick surround I wanted to match the historic structure is too much.”
“So we’ll just do a brick front.” He yawned and sipped more coffee. “We do that all the time for houses.”
“That would look terrible.”
“Nah. People don’t care.”
“I care.”
“Just do some fundraising. Get people in town to cough up the dough.” He pointed at her. “Tell the mayor that.”
“I got the feeling they wanted to break ground and get moving as quickly as possible. Marino and Sons can do that.”
He pounded the table with his fist. “Do they want it done fast, or do they want it done right?”
Not the first time she’d heard that from him. It was his standard answer to impatient clients. “So no compromise? Just do it our way and find a way to pay for it.”
“Exactly.”
“Are you sure you can’t come to the meeting? I think Vince wouldn’t argue with you as much as with me.”
Her dad stiffened. “Is he being disrespectful to my little girl?”
She heaved a sigh. “He—” She stopped. Vince had saved her. He’d given her a tour of his house, knowing her interest in it. He’d tried to have a nice dinner before they talked business. Why had she gotten so mad at him? Something about Vince just got under her skin. “No, he’s fine. Just difficult.”
Her dad scoffed. “Difficult. Of course he’s difficult. He’s Vinny’s boy. You give him hell, Soph.” He mimed strangling someone. “Go for the jugular.”
She stood. “I’m not going to give him hell. I’m going to go into the meeting as a professional and hope they come around to our idea.” She watched as her dad got another cup of coffee. “Dad, please come home. Sleeping on Uncle Phil’s couch is no way to live.” She’d understood at first why her dad had wanted to crash there, avoiding town gossip about his errant wife with the pool boy and his outrageous mistake with the alpaca farm, but by now surely the gossip had turned to other more interesting topics. Seriously, enough was enough.
He waved that away. She crossed to him and kissed him on the cheek. He smelled like Old Spice, the aftershave he’d been using since she was a kid. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“Thanks, Soph. I knew I could count on you. Unlike your brother. What the hell is he up to?”
She backed away. “Bye, Dad.”
He was still grumbling about college tuition and stupidity when she left.
Chapter Seven
Vince tried to put a pleasant expression on his face as he waited in the Clover Park Library meeting room for the big decision. Sophia wasn’t here yet. The mayor and town council were talking amongst themselves about the possibility of a town-wide talent show as a fundraiser. He would’ve been tense anyway, waiting to hear the final decision, but then his dad had to show up at work to check up on him right before the meeting. Again. Vince had finally told him about the Capello proposal, which resulted in an angry tirade and a final “Don’t screw this up.” Vince had been tagging along to work meetings with his dad for years; he knew how to act. If he didn’t get this damn promotion, he didn’t know what he’d do. He was beginning to think his dad would never take him seriously.
He knew the moment she entered the room, as all conversation stopped at the vision before them—Sophia in a dress that looked like fire, all shades of red and orange, the flames licking upward. The dress went up to her chin in a turtleneck, tight at the waist with a thin black belt, and fluffy layers on the skirt. But the kicker, what made his pants feel a size too small, were ridiculously high-heeled black leather boots that stopped just below her bare knees.
“Hello, gentlemen,” she called as she walked to the head of the table. “How are you?”
The gentlemen scrambled to answer her, talking over each other. Vince’s eyes traveled up to her smiling face. Her hair was up, revealing bare earlobes, no earrings. She didn’t need jewelry to frame that face. That beautiful—
She met his eyes and smirked. He slowly shook his head. If she thought for one minute he was going to be taken in by a pretty face, he had news for her. He eased out of his chair and crossed to her side.
“Aren’t you a vision?” he whispered just for her ears.
She smiled tightly and continued taking papers out of a small portfolio case. “Thank you.”
“Looks don’t get the job done.”
“I suppose that’s good news for you,” she said quietly, “seeing as how you look like you stepped out of an L.L.Bean catalog.”
He chuckled. “What’re you talking about?”
“You’re built like a lumberjack. Like an L.L.Bean model minus the flannel.”
The remark meant to sting warmed him. He hadn’t known she looked at him as anything but annoying. Sure she’d kissed him, but that had been more like a grateful damsel-in-distress thing. She’d point-blank said that he was not her Romeo. He leaned close, getting a whiff of her spicy rose scent that made him want to inhale deep. “You into me, Juliet?”
She blinked slowly and then shuffled her papers. “Take your seat. I’m about to school you.”
“If you were my teacher, I might’ve paid more attention.”
Her lips twitched, but then she pursed them together, unwilling to smile for him. He kind of wanted to make her smile now, sort of felt cheated with the almost smile.
“Shall we begin?” Sophia asked, addressing the room. Her father hadn’t shown up. So it was just the mayor, the six middle-aged horndogs on the town council, and him.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Mayor Riggs said, smoothing the lock of long white hair he thought covered his huge bald spot.
“So Vince and I sat down to talk, and we came to the conclusion that my design—” she held up the brick design in front of her “—is more expensive. And might take a little more time.” She looked at him and smiled sweetly, which made him nervous. What was she doing? She was making things worse for herself. “But I have the solution. Along with tax incentives for preserving the historic building, a fundraising campaign that really brings the town together.”
“They have a fundraising campaign,” Vince said.
“Go on,” Mayor Riggs said. “Vince, you’ll hav
e your turn.”
“Thank you,” Sophia said. “We let donors see their name on the sidewalk and on a plaque in the entryway.” She pointed out on her drawing where it would go. “Also, on a wall of sponsors on the lower level and on a giving tree artistically painted in the children’s section. This brings pride of ownership to the building. And I know at least Mayor Riggs has been to one of my mother’s fundraisers, a bachelor auction, and I seem to remember you went for a very high bid.” She winked, and the mayor chuckled. “I can use my mother’s connections to sponsor a series of fundraiser dinners, fashion shows, bachelor auctions, any or all of the above as long as it’s fun.”
She paused and the room was quiet, the men hanging on her every word. “It might mean a small delay in construction, a few months for historic designation and extra fundraising, but we are making history here. This library will stand for the next hundred years, pointing the way to the future as it preserves the past.”
The room broke out in applause. Vince felt like howling. Instead he joined her at the head of the table. “Of course you can always raise more funds,” he said in as calm a voice as he could muster. “But with this brick design, which is significantly more expensive, you lose the view of the park. The best part of this library is its location. This design completely ignores that.”
“Could you add bigger windows, Sophia?” the mayor asked.
“Sure,” Sophia responded.
Vince pulled out his design and tapped the various parts of the building. “Brick cannot replicate this. Floor-to-ceiling glass, light wood accents. This space is meant to be open, light, and airy, not a continuation of a design created more than a hundred years ago.”
“This town has a long, proud history,” Sophia said. “I understand that.”
“I understand history,” Vince said through clenched teeth.
Sophia kept going. “And I hope you know my father will be working closely with me on the project. He’ll be directing the crew while I manage the historic preservation efforts. So with Capello Construction you get the best of both worlds—experienced construction and expert historic consulting.”
Not My Romeo Page 5