“Oh, and you’re an expert in the field, aren’t you? How about you and John? You were quick to dump him too. And why? Because the man works hard and gets too tired sometimes to have sex? Is that love?”
“You’re right, I don’t know everything either, but I am looking for it. I want to know. You’re not even looking. You’re hiding!”
“Woman are allowed to have sex the way men do, aren’t they? Without all those lovey-dovey feelings and stuff? Just because they’re horny? Well, that’s what I want too, and I have been very successful at that over the past few years. Why do I have to explain myself to you now, Tiger?”
“You don’t get it. What I mean is not just about you and that Cowboy. Or about sex. It’s about you not being yourself ever since your parents died. You are a trucker, for crying out loud! Even though you have a university degree, Nina. How ridiculous is that?” she asks with frustration in her voice.
This is a conversation we’ve never had before. My jaw drops almost to the ground, that’s how amazed and surprised I am. I had no idea she felt that way. Why did she never tell me? And it’s getting out of hand too. What I wanted was to chat with my girlfriend; instead, I’m getting a lecture? I’m really not in the mood for her to patronize me and to force me to explain my life choices.
“You know what? I’m too tired and emotional right now, and I’m saying things I don’t mean, I’m sorry. We will discuss this again soon. I have to go now.” Before she can react, I hang up.
Tears well up in my eyes and I quickly wipe them with my sleeve. I was so happy about the deal I made with Sebastian ... and now? I almost start questioning myself! Am I going about this the right way? But I am Nina Palermo. I never question myself.
Calm down, Nina ...
I take a few deep breaths to regain control of myself. I suddenly realize the office has gone quiet.
Tartar sauce ... did everybody hear my conversation?
If my life were a highway, they would now have confiscated my driver’s license.
Chapter 17 – Hot tea
NINA
“Do you believe that men and women can have a purely platonic relationship with each other?” I ask Grandma one night, while we take Gnocchi for a walk.
“What do you think?” she replies. Obviously, she’s not going to tell me how she feels about it ... Mrs. Psychologist. Sometimes, having a conversation with my grandma can be very tiresome. It’s never a normal talk, she always jumps into psychologist mode.
I’ll have to make do with this. Sighing, I give her my answer. “I think that is only possible if there is no sexual attraction between the two. Just like between me and Booty Boy, for instance.”
“Why do you ask?” From the way she looks at me, in her typical inquiring way, I conclude she is very curious about the reason for my question.
“I have a colleague at work that I’m getting to know a bit better now. We’re dating ... he has three female colleagues, with whom he has a very close friendship. He says it’s purely platonic, but I’m getting the feeling that’s not true. I don’t know if I believe in that, in a purely platonic friendship between a man and a woman.”
“The fact that they might want something different, doesn’t mean he does now, does it?”
“No, but I still find it hard to believe. I mean, these ladies are extremely beautiful and intelligent, how could any man resist that?”
“Could it be he sees them as family?”
“They have known each other long enough and they have been through a lot together, so that might be an explanation.”
“What have they been through, Nina?” she asks, and I tell her what I know.
“It sounds has if there’s a whole other story to it, but he sounds like a good person. How do you think these events affected him?”
“He appears to have suffered a lot of trauma because of them ... But now he seems over it. He is a successful businessman. And he fancies me.”
“Do you think he’s trying to save you, just like he saved those three women?”
“What do you mean? Save me from what? I don’t need to be saved. I’m happy. By the way, it’s not like he’s some kind of superman, saving fragile little women in his spare time, is he?”
“He’s not? Did you tell him about you? About your parents?”
“Well. It seems like he already knows everything, there’s not much he doesn’t know,” I say.
“Don’t you think that’s strange?”
“I do, but he says that he wants me, and in his world, that means getting to know every little detail about that person. That’s why he studied me. He says that’s the way he always gets everything he wants.”
Her face becomes completely unreadable now. I can’t sense at all how she feels about this whole story. Maybe she is completely focused on making sure I come to my own conclusions. She really is a very good psychologist.
“How do you feel about this?” she asks.
“I have no clue. I feel so many different things what this man is concerned. Sometimes, it’s very tiring.”
“It’s tiring that you feel something?”
“Yes,” I admit.
“What else are you feeling?” Her question prompts me to think about this.
“I feel flattered ... and wanted ... and safe with him.”
“You do?”
“I do. But I’m also a little scared. I’m scared that I’m really starting to like him, Grandma.”
“Why are you scared to like someone, honey?”
“Because this can never end well.”
“Why does is have to end?” Before I can respond with my usual answer about zombies and the dull routine of relationships, she quickly continues. “Are you going to hide from those feelings for the rest of your life? Avoid things because you’re scared? That doesn’t sound like the Nina I know. I know a Nina who wasn’t afraid of being afraid. Who got up on stage when she was a little girl to sing all those beautiful songs, even though she was scared. Do you still sing? Do you remember that Nina? Is that Nina still around somewhere? It feels like such a long time ago now, as if that was a different Nina back then. That Nina loved to sing, she was free and wasn’t ashamed to sing in front of all those people she didn’t know.”
“This Nina just wants to play. Play, with fire perhaps, but without burning myself. Play without falling in love. Why shouldn’t I?”
“Is that what he wants too? To play?”
“I think he wants to prove to me that he can make me fall in love with him. I want to prove to him that he won’t succeed. That having fun with each other as friends can be just as good, maybe even better. Without strings. Without fuss. No strings attached. Is that really so bad?”
“You’re the one asking, not me.”
I don’t have a response ready for that, but it does make me think. We walk back home in silence, one that is weird between us. Normally, she always has a question at the ready, or a fun anecdote to share. Back home, Gnocchi is the first one to rush in. We follow him and start taking off our shoes when, after a long silence, she suddenly speaks again.
“Nina, we need to talk. What I’m about to tell you is a big secret in our family and it’s about time you know about it too.”
Wow, she’s stopped asking questions. That cannot be good. I actually don’t know if I want to have this conversation, because I have enough to deal with already. But before I can voice my reluctance, she starts talking.
“Do you know that I know him too?” She calmly puts her shoes in the little cabinet by the door and looks at me thoughtfully.
“What? Who? My colleague that I’m dating? You know him?”
“Sebastian, yes. Did you know he is a friend of your uncle’s in America, and also of your dad’s?”
“He told me, yes, but you know him too? How? Jesus. Is there anyone who doesn’t know him?”
“Before I tell you, I need to start from the beginning. Do you know why your parents left Italy in the first place?”
Together, we walk into the living room, where we sit down across from each other on the couches.
“What Mom told me is that they wanted a better future for me. The social situation in Italy wasn’t very stable. In Holland, the prospects were far better. Dad’s company wasn’t very successful yet. Plus, Mom was homesick. That’s how it was, wasn’t it?”
“Could that have been the reason? Have you never asked yourself why, after having lived in Italy for fifteen years, your mom suddenly felt the need to go to Holland?”
“Mom always told me that she was homesick and missed you. That she wanted a more stable future for me. Why would I question that? Why would she lie to me?”
“She lied to you to protect you. To offer you a safe home.”
“Okay, Grands, this is starting to sound really weird now. What’s the deal then? Just tell me.”
“The real reason is your Italian grandfather, whom you know as Don Ciccio. Your father’s father although you never knew him. He’s the reason your parents fled from Italy.”
“Fled? They fled from my grandfather? I know that the relationship between Dad and his dad wasn’t very good. That there was a quarrel in the family or something, right?”
“True, but what you don’t know, is the reason for that quarrel. Come, join me in the kitchen, won’t you? We need a cup of tea with this conversation.”
That’s not a good sign. My grandma only drinks tea when she’s feeling down. When she misses my grandpa or when she’s having one of her weird thoughtful moods. It makes me dread the things she wants to tell me. She rises and walks into the kitchen. Slowly, I get to my feet as well and follow her.
“Your Italian family was active in what you could call a criminal environment. Does the name Cosa Nostra mean anything to you?”
“That’s the Italian mafia, isn’t it? We were no mafia, were we? Dad always was an honest businessman.”
“No, my dear, he would never get involved in that, but he did grow up in that environment. Together with his brothers, you know, Francesco and Matteo. You never knew Francesco either; he left for Chicago when he was very young. Matteo, however, became your grandfather’s right hand. His whole life, he has been prepared to succeed Don Ciccio as head of the family.”
“What kind of criminal activities are we talking about?”
“You don’t wanna know, hon. To be frank, I don’t even know for sure, because I always steered clear of that whole environment. Everything that can be corrupted, they did to increase their power.” While she tells me this, she puts water in the kettle and turns it on. She leans against the counter and continues her story.
“Your father managed to stay out of the family affairs well enough. He wanted to make something of his life, without blood money. With his own two hands. He started Casa de la Pasta there in Italy and during your entire childhood, he worked hard to make a name for himself. Your grandfather and your Uncle Matteo didn’t agree with that. They held the opinion it was wrong, because family is family, you know how they are.”
“Yes, family is everything. My parents taught me that ever since I was a child. That’s why it was hard for me to accept that they decided to get a divorce.”
“Exactly. But Matteo and Don Ciccio had other plans. The more successful Casa de la Pasta became, the more pressure they put on your dad. They wanted to use the company for money laundering, but your father was strictly against it. The situation got more and more dangerous and your mother got scared. The threat was becoming more serious and she didn’t want anything to happen to you, so she forced your father to choose. She would go back to Holland with you and he could come with you, or stay behind all by himself. Of course, he chose to go with you.”
Wow, it sounds like a movie ... surely, these things don’t happen in real life, do they? And certainly not in my own family ...
“But what role did Sebastian play in all of this? I don’t understand.”
“I’m getting to that, Nina. Tea first.” She takes two cups out of the cupboard and starts pouring the hot water. She puts a tea bag in each cup, lifts both cups and walks back to the living room, where she places them on the coffee table. I have a strange surreal feeling. Distraught, I watch her doing all those things, while it feels like my head is going to explode. She pulls me out of my head when she takes me in her arms and hugs me, and I hug her back. Then, she lets go and directs me towards the couch, where we sit down next to each other.
“So, about Sebastian.”
“Yes, about Sebastian, Grandma. What’s the deal with him?” I pick up my cup and sip my tea, which is actually too hot to drink yet. It helps in preparing me mentally for the next piece of her story, though.
“Your father told your grandfather and your Uncle Matteo that he would move to Holland. They were against it. Your father realized that leaving Italy and breaking all ties with his brother and father forever wouldn’t be so easy. Therefore, he asked his brother Francesco for help and protection. Francesco was no angel either, make no mistake. He established his own criminal branch in Chicago, but he did understand that your dad wanted out, and he wanted to help him.”
“Help him how?”
“To break from them the hard way, with violence, if necessary. But Francesco was ill. He had lung cancer and wasn’t up for the task himself. So, he sent his right hand, Sebastian, to do it.”
“Sebastian was with the mafia too?” Am I having a sexcapade with a criminal now?
“Not anymore. Since Francesco died, he has seen to it personally that that part of the family business died along with Francesco. But that was a couple of years later, when you were already living in Holland.”
“I know that Sebastian was plucked from the street by some kind of father figure, but that that father figure was actually my Uncle Francesco is... unbelievable. He didn’t tell me any of that.”
“Sebastian thought it was my task to tell you that part of the story, Nina. After all, it’s about your family. He wanted me to decide what and when I would tell you. I respect and appreciate that immensely. He is a good man, hon.”
“Okay ... so, that’s it? That’s the whole story?”
“No. Sebastian played an important role.”
Now I’m hanging on every word she says. Really, this is unbelievable. I take another sip of tea to calm myself. With my eyes, I will her to continue, and she does.
“Your father had tried every possible thing he could to convince your uncle and your grandfather to let him go. He didn’t want to be involved in their criminal activities, but on the other side, he didn’t want anything to happen to you and your mother. He believed that Matteo was capable of hurting you to get what he wanted. Sebastian knew that your father would never use violence against his own brother. So, he decided to take the matter into his own hands. He wouldn’t let your father be forced into doing something illegal.”
Grandma falls silent, as do I. I have no idea how to respond to this. I want to know how the story ends, but I’m also afraid to know. Because this cannot end well, can it? Nervous, I take a sip of tea. And another. And another.
“Did all of this really happen, Grandma? Or did you put something in the tea that is making you hallucinate? How does this end? Please don’t tell me that Sebastian killed Uncle Matteo?”
“No, fortunately, it didn’t come to that. Matteo is still alive, but Sebastian delivered the message, loud and clear. At that moment, Matteo declared that your father was no longer his brother to him. As far as him and your grandfather were concerned, you were dead to him from then on. He turned around, walked away, and no one has heard from your grandfather or Uncle ever since.”
“But ... how do you know Sebastian?”
“Your dad and Sebastian stayed in contact all those years. Sebastian kept his word that he would protect you, has always kept an eye on things and made sure, from a distance, that your family was safe. There didn’t seem to be a threat from Italy any more, but Sebastian wanted to be sure, even after your parents had died. So, when he he
ard you came to live with me, he contacted me and told me everything. I never knew the whole story, your parents never told me. I think they didn’t want to put me in danger, or frighten me unnecessarily. But Sebastian wanted to continue protecting you, so I started filling him in on your well-being.”
“But how did he protect us? All the way from the States? I don’t understand what you mean by that.”
“The mafia has a long arm, dear. There are numerous ways to keep an eye on affairs and people, even from a distance.”
“That explains a lot,” is the only thing I can say.
“It does, doesn’t it?”
Apparently, she’s finished her story because she picks up her cup and starts sipping. Still, I don’t fully understand, so I ask. “Why are you telling me this now? When you’ve known all these years? Why now?”
“Sebastian. That is why. He doesn’t want there to be any secrets between you two, and I want to give you a chance.”
“A chance for what?” I ask.
“A big adventure.”
“A big adventure?”
“Love, honey. Love,” she says.
If my life were a highway, Sebastian would be the traffic police.
Chapter 18 – The girl
NINA
Gnocchi climbs in the truck and sits in the passenger’s chair. After securing him with his special seatbelt, I take off my shoes and put them on the floorboard. Just when I’m about to put on my slippers, the passenger door opens.
“Good morning!” The deep male voice seems to vibrate loudly in the silence of the truck. It’s a familiar voice. An American voice.
Cowboy is here. He’s climbing inside my truck! Gnocchi licks his face while Cowboy liberates him from his seatbelt.
“I hope you don’t mind if your little darling sits on your bed this time. I’m going with you to Germany,” he announces.
Completely amazed, I look at him, too startled to speak. In the meantime, he has already settled himself in my truck. Taken off his shoes, put on his seatbelt, and puts down his smartphone, a black A4-sized notebook and an expensive looking pen in the middle compartment between our seats. He’s looking ahead, apparently ready to go.
Chasing the CEO (The CEO Duet, #1) Page 13