Page 64 of Degrees of Control
“Your server will be with you shortly, and I’ll let Mr. D’Angelo know that you have arrived Mr. Larussio,” she says.
“You’ll love the food here,” my mom says to Jenny and me as my dad discusses wine preferences with the young man who has stopped at our table. “The shrimp scampi and linguine are my favorites,” she says as we peruse the menu before the server returns. Mom takes a sip of her red wine and murmurs her appreciation and agreement with Dad’s choice. I taste my own; delicious, a little sweet, but not overpowering, medium bodied with a crisp finish.
“Next time you’re in the city we can take you to Maka’s,” my dad says as he reviews the menu. It’s Omakase style, meaning the chef’s choice,” he explains.
“Really?” I ask.
“Don’t worry; the food is absolutely to die for and it’s flown in fresh from Japan. It really does take the hassle out of deciding what to order,” mom explains, catching our furtive glance. A gentleman places a woven basket covered with a white cloth onto our table. As he lifts the cover, the scent of garlic and parmesan cheese escapes. My dad passes a basket full of a variety of breads around the table. The freshly make bread is still warm to the touch. We have no sooner passed the basket before he returns with a loaf of crusty bread and knife sitting atop a cutting board, along with olive oil and bruschetta which he sets in front of us before taking our dinner order.
It is a relaxing atmosphere and we are filling my dad in on our day of shopping when a man of medium stature and grey hair joins our table, shaking my father’s hand as he greets us.
“Carlos, so good to see you and your lovely family, my friend,” he says.
“You know Karissa. My daughter Katarina and her friend Jenny are in New York for a couple days shopping for the wedding,” he says, introducing us both to his friend, Antonio D’Angelo.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both and please call me Tony. My wife and I were just reading the wedding announcement. You must be sure to bring Chase and Don around for a congratulatory meal,” he says.
“Thank you, Tony. We would enjoy that very much,” I say, before he leaves our table to stop and talk to another guest.
“He’s been a friend of mine and Don’s for a long time,” my father explains as the waitress refreshes our wine glasses.
“I talked to Don earlier and he said to let the staff know when you arrive at Prestian Corp tomorrow and he’ll give you a tour of the Torzial area personally,” he says to Jenny.
“That was nice of him to offer to do that. I’m looking forward to meeting Chase’s dad,” Jenny says.
“You’ll like him a lot. He’s really not much different than Chase,” I say.
“That intense?” she says, lifting her eyebrows and I wonder if she’s nervous about meeting him.
“Relax Jenny. He’s seriously one of the most laid back people I’ve ever met,” I reassure.
“That he is, Jenny. Nothing to worry about where Don’s concerned. If you’ve survived Chase, you’ll be just fine,” my dad says as our dinner arrives. The women have opted for shrimp scampi, while my dad has chosen a dish of manicotti. “Tony started his restaurant business years ago and made all the pasta by hand. Today he owns six restaurants throughout the state along with a manufacturing plant that produces fresh pasta for each of his restaurants, many of the nation’s hotels and much that is packaged and sold commercially,” he says, clearly proud of his friend’s accomplishments.
The scampi is sinful, sautéed in real butter and minced garlic with a hint of white wine and lemon juice, and is sprinkled with fresh parsley. It is every bit as delicious as Mom promised and then some. We are just finishing the meal when Mr. D’Angelo stops by to make sure everything was to our liking and to wish us a great evening.
Our limo is awaiting curbside, and as we exit the restaurant, Sheldon and a few members of our security team join us as we proceed to the car. I catch the raised brows of my father as we pile into the limo and Sheldon slides into the front seat. My father has his cell phone out and is texting someone.His own security?The silence and tension in the car is palpable as we pull into the heavy evening traffic of downtown New York. We ride like this for a short distance until my curiosity gets the better of me. The privacy glass is down and I turn around in my seat to face the front of the car.
“What’s going on Sheldon?” I ask, breaking the uncomfortable silence that has dropped over the group.
“We don’t know much right now, Kate,” he says, turning in his own seat to face those of us in the back.
“Sheldon, if there is something happening we need to be aware of it,” I say, catching my father’s uplifted eyebrows from the corner seat.
“We’ve received word that Alfreita’s men may be in the city. Right now, we’re just taking extra precautions, Kate. That’s all we know right now, it hasn’t been confirmed and we just didn’t want to worry anyone needlessly. My job is to make sure you get back to Mr. Larussio’s house safely.”
“You know I hate being kept in the dark,” I say.
“We haven’t known for long, Kate. Otherwise, Jay would have insisted that we alter plans for dinner,” he says.
“I’ll give Chase a call when we get home and find out what’s going on,” I say as much to myself as the others in the car. The ride home is anti-climactic and I find myself relaxing a little once we’re in the gated compound and I see the lights of the Larussio mansion in the distance. I didn’t realize that I was tense after learning that Alfreita might have men in the city.Were they watching us?
Our chauffeur drives us to the front of the estate’s entrance before bringing the car to a halt. The men in the car in front of us climb out, walk to our car and open the passenger doors for us. Sheldon and I get out at the same time. There is a loud noise overhead, and we immediately look into the sky as the distant thwup…thwup…thwup sound of rotating blades cuts through the night. Goosebumps form at my neckline as I recall the last time helicopters canvassed the air in this very same place. No one is moving.
“Sheldon, what’s happening? Shouldn’t we go inside?” I ask as the sound of the rotating blades becomes even louder.
“We’re expecting it, Kate. Nothing to worry about,” he says as the lights and outline of the helicopter come into view over the tops of the trees.
“More security?” I ask, as it heads toward the landing pad.
