Page 35 of The Pretender
“Wait till you taste my mom’s,” Nantes says. “It’s phenomenal.”
Mom smiles. “I make it with chocolate milk instead of coffee.”
“Sounds delightful.” Balt glances at me, smiling. “Thank you again for having me.”
I nod as my mind fills with all the dirty things I want to do with this man later.
“I’m glad you came.”
Balt puts his hand over mine, gently squeezing. “So am I.”
ELEVEN
balthazar
I’mcurious how Deo is feeling right now. From what I can tell, his brothers seem to be happy that he’s home and have given him zero shit about it. Was he expecting a negative reaction based on past experience, or did his anxiety make it out to be more than it is?
I attempt to help clear the dishes after we finish eating, but Deo’s mom insists I remain seated while the three women clear the table. I quickly realize that was by design.
“So, Balt,” Deo’s father says, “you say you’re an accountant?”
“Yes. Mostly commercial accounts. I haven’t done personal accounting in years.”
“Commercial like what?” Salvo asks.
“My primary client is a businessman with numerous commercial projects. I manage his tax filings and do the bookkeeping on some of his businesses.”
“What kind of businesses?” Larry asks.
“A variety. Some real estate, a couple of restaurants and bars, and a casino in Connecticut.”
“Interesting mix,” Nantes says, glancing at his brother.
“He likes to diversify his income sources. He lost a lot during the housing market crash back in 2008. He was mostly focused on real estate holdings at that time.”
Deo is watching the conversation in silence, but his expression is so neutral I can’t read it.
“You said you do bookkeeping too?” Salvo asks.
I nod. “Yes.”
Salvo and Larry glance at each other, and Larry nods, making some unspoken agreement between them.
“We were managing our own books,” Larry says. “We were a small vineyard for a long time, so it was easy enough, but six years ago, we started a three-year period that changed everything. Somewhere in those three years, we lost our grip on things. We did call in for professional help, but we didn’t find anyone that was a good fit for us.”
“One guy took our retainer and never came back,” Salvo complains. “Dickhead.”
“All the best accountants weren’t taking on new clients,” Larry continues. “We’ve been doing it in-house with not the best results. None of us are accountants. We got hit with a pretty big tax bill last year.”
Sounds like they really need help. “I’m more than happy to take a look at what you have.”
“We’ll pay your fee,” Salvo offers.
“I’d rather not discuss things like that right now. Let me get in there and see what’s going on. I’ll be able to offer a recommendation after that and we can go from there.”
Larry and Salvo nod, and the conversation shifts when Deo’s mom returns carrying a dish, followed by Nonna and Sofie, who have dessert plates and utensils in their hands.
A nostalgic smile tugs at my lips. Deo’s family reminds me so much of my own, of Sunday nights with my nonna, the way themen didn’t speak business in front of the women. So old-school and familiar.
