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"Excuse me?" I ask.
The sun's shining through the window, framing his chiseled physique at every sexy angle imaginable. Even as he smooths his hair off his face, stretching allows me to see the tiniest muscles under his chest, traveling down the side of his ribs toward the V-taper of his waist. There's a hint of a scar peeking from around the back, similar to the one on his face, but much larger. He'd have to turn around for me to see the extent of it.
"Last night." His reply is abrupt, as if I'm supposed to know what he's talking about. It distracts me from cataloging every inch of his body.
"What about last night?"
Alessandro lets me catch a glimpse of his charming smile as he tells me, "As my wife, I think we can take full advantage of our relationship."
"How convenient because a few hours ago, you weren't trying to complicate our marriage by sleeping together. Even with that backtrack, what does that have to do with scheduling me a doctor's appointment without my knowledge? You're behaving like my father, just ordering me to do things and expecting me to fall in line like a good little girl."
The coy expression on his face shifts to mischief as he pads toward the bed, pressing his hands into the mattress and leaning in close enough to steal a kiss. Only he doesn't. "I like it when you behave, mio dolce. The doctor's appointment is for us to get a clean bill of health. If we choose to do anything more than what happened last night, I'd hate to have anything between us."
Fantasies explode in my mind of what could have happened last night.
My delay in responding prods him to continue. "Unless, of course, you'd like last night to be a once and only occurrence."
"I think we should take things as they come."
"I'd rather take you while you come."
I have to get away from him before we end up having sex before this appointment. Giggles this early make me feel silly. "I'll go to your doctor, Alessandro."
"Good girl," he says with a wink and a quick kiss.
We take our time getting ready and making sure Sandro De Luca is taken care of. Lara shows up at seven, prompt and ready with a list of conditions to help the Don recover faster.
There's something wholesome about their connection, the feared Mafia Don falling in line to a nurse probably twenty years younger than him. However, the tit for tat banter between them isn't malicious. It's cute. I wonder how long he, and his son, have been without partners.
However, as I watch the Don and his nurse, Alessandro looks on too. There's an ease in his energy, much different from how he woke up. It gives me pause, thinking that this is what a family morning with him could be like. I shake the images of what our future can look like, opting to focus on what the reality is. We have plans to end this marriage, and I have to keep that in mind, no matter how good Alessandro's tongue feels.
The drive into Manhattan is a nightmare, and even worse is the trek into Brooklyn if I want to stop by my parents' place. It will be a good way to kill some time before my doctor appointment. Alessandro opts to stay at home to work while I head to Brooklyn, and Lorenzo tags along as my pseudo-Jenkins.
The home is empty as the kids are at school, my mother is running errands, and my father is probably tending to the businesses being targeted by the Montegnas. At least, I hope he is. The scent of breakfast lingers in the air as I stroll through the home. There are sneakers and toys scattered around the living room floor.
Back in my day, Ma would have lost her shit and threatened to beat us with the broom for leaving to go to school with our stuff all over the place. Courtney's dolls are sitting in their toy car while Roman's game controllers are hanging off their charging dock.
From one childhood home to another, I can't help but see the similarities between the De Luca and Rossi homes. Three bedrooms each, two Families of La Familia, both have beige colored walls trickling with photographs of memories decades gone by. The kitchens are in the same spot at the back of the first floor, with a separate dining room and living room. Nothing modern about the creaking staircases that have seen countless feet go up and down.
Generations of love and betrayal touch every space of both homes. The details of betrayal aren't necessary because the absence of people both Alessandro and I care for dearly tells the tale. His mother, God rest her soul, and my poor sister, I pray the patron Saint Michael watches over her in that hell hole that her husband left her in. Listen to me, as if being religious for the first time since my communion is going to make everything alright.
Wait, the last time I was religious happened to be yesterday, exchanging vows with my husband for a treaty between families.
After straightening up a bit, I gather a few things and head outside, where Lorenzo is standing guard. His gaze is vigilant as if someone's ready to pounce. He rushes to my side to grab my bags and opens the door for me.
"Alessandro called and said the doctor will see you whenever you're ready."
"Does everyone just jump to do whatever he says, Lorenzo?" I ask him.
The way his surfer façade mixes with this super soldier demeanor lets me feel safe, but he's not Jenkins.
Lorenzo answers my question with a slight shrug of his shoulders before saying, "I think most people realize that it's better to do what he says when he asks nicely. Turning him down typically doesn't end well for anyone involved and gets my car trunk dirty."
I get into the car, but now there are dozens of questions circling my mind. I can't stop myself from unloading a few on Lorenzo. "How long have you been working for Alessandro?"
"I've worked with him for the past twelve years or so. We've known each other since we were kids running around Howard Beach."
"Yeah, I saw the picture last night. What about his love life? Surely, you know about the kinds of women he likes. What can you tell me about them?" I know I'm asking for trouble, but there's something inside me that always has to measure up, to stand out and be better.
