Page 8 of Fall
My chest tightens as I catch sight of Antonio, his rugged feature, jet black hair, and six-foot-three height easily drawing my attention through the thick crowd. I should be used to this feeling, the way my body reacts every time I see him, but I'm not. He stands at the drop area of the conveyor belt, his broad shoulders and large biceps pronounced through his neatly pressed white shirt, arms athis side with one tucked into the pocket of his dark gray dress slacks as he looks for the rest of our luggage. Three of our four suitcases are already on a cart beside him.
I'm not surprised.
Nothing escapes this man.
He makes it his business to know everything about everything to do with our family. Even something as seemingly inconsequential as what brand and color baggagehis boss's mother and daughter traveled to Italy with matters to him.
I used to fantasize that his laser-sharp attention to the most minute details about me meant he cared about me. Sometimes I still do, but I know it's just his way of showing my father how seriously he takes his job. He's no different with Nonna, who he calls Nonna Romano like everyone else does, and with Lupo, Father'saging pet Abruzzese sheepdog.
“How was your flight, Nonna Romano?” Antonio’s voice rumbles the question to my grandmother but his eyes are on me, and the sound resonates throughout my body.
"Hello, son. It was rough. But good, because we're here safe, thank God," she answers, staring up at his face from her lowered height in the wheelchair. Her arms reach up, an invitation for himto give her a warm hug and a kiss on both her cheeks, something she usually reserves only for immediate family. "Is my Paolo okay?"
He pulls from their brief embrace and nods reassuringly. “Yes, everything’s fine. He’s finishing up a meeting and promises to see you at home soon.”
“That’s good.”
“And how about you?” he asks, looking at me for a moment before returning his gazeto the conveyor belt. “Happy birthday, by the way.”
“Thanks,” I smile.
“How was the trip?”
“Nice. Quiet. Hot.” I hear the suggestive tone of the last word leaving my lips and wish I could take it back. It’s one thing to be in love with Antonio, and yet another thing to betray my emotions with people like Nonna around. There’s no way she’d be supportive of my feelings. In hereyes, I already belong to someone else.
Long before I was old enough to think about love, I was promised to Santori Giorgio, next in line to the Giorgio crime family empire in New York. My father has had our union in the works for over a decade. It’s a foregone conclusion that one day I’ll be Santori’s wife.
An accepted fact by everyone.
Everyone but me.
“Well, youwon’t be spared the heat here either,” Antonio says, smiling a little. “It’s been hotter than hell in Trenton.” He grabs our last suitcase and places it in the luggage cart. “Is this everything?”
"Yes," Nonna answers for us. "We did a lot of shopping, but Natalia gave away so many clothes and shoes to her cousins this time that we fit all the new things in the extra space. Can we go now?All this traveling wears me out."
“Sure thing, Nonna Romano,” Antonio tells her, wheeling our luggage toward the waiting town car while I follow along guiding Nonna’s wheelchair.
We find Vinny leaning against the side of the town car, patiently waiting for us. He clicks the trunk door open when he sees us approaching, and nods politely at Antonio. "Welcome back, young ladies," hegreets us, and as usual, bends forward and kisses Nonna on her forehead. He glances over at me. "Had a good trip, I hear?"
"Yes, Vinny. It was great," I tell my pretty boy, my blond male BFF.
“And happy birthday, woman!”
“Thanks,” I tell him.
“What was it like, spending some of your first few hours as an adult in the friendly skies?”
“I slept through most ofit.”
Antonio helps Nonna into the car in the seat behind the passenger side, probably unaware that Vinny already has every detail of what I did and where I visited because of the insane number of text messages we exchange daily.
As I walk around to the other side to get in behind the driver's side, I notice Antonio's facial expression go from relaxed to concerned as he reads somethingon his phone. And when he tells us we need to get a move on in a hurry, there's no doubt in my mind that something isn't right. I can't say if he's become serious because of how relaxed Vinny is with me, or if some urgent news or a new request or some instruction from Father has just come in on his phone. He finishes loading our luggage into the trunk and sits in the driver's seat without makingeye contact with Antonio.
Something’s different between the two of them.
They’re supposed to be best friends, but there’s tension I didn’t feel before I left.
Or maybe I’m imagining things.
Antonio is a lot more serious now.
I just wish I knew if something went down while I was gone.
