Page 8 of Dagger in the Sea

“Why this time?”

She took in a deep breath. “This time he threatened me.”

A chill razored up my spine. “What do you mean he threatened you?”

“He said he’d stop me. He’s annoyed that I’m a member of the Mayor’s task force on cleaning up West Loop. I suppose it’s one of his…commercial centers? His territory?” Her eyebrows peaked.

I gave her my best blank face chiseled in titanium. The one I’d learned from her. She lobbed hers back at me.

“That’s where this restaurant is located,” she continued. “A lot of arrests have been made lately, buildings condemned. He called me and let me know that I’d better stop, pull out, or else he was going to show me how unhappy he was with me. He’s never spoken to me like that before. Not in those terms at least. The point is, I’m truly concerned. His past actions were him pissing on fire hydrants, making messes I had to clean up, him needing to have the last word. As always. But this is different. I know it is.”

Wasn’t all that acrimony between them done with? I was over it. He’d won. He got me on his side of the tracks.

“I’m asking you to see if you can get him to pull back, to see reason,” she said. “That neighborhood renovation is inevitable, and it’s happening. He can’t stop gentrification. The city has invested big money in making that happen, people are excited. He can’t stop it. He’s worried, frustrated, and picking on me and my business is obviously his way of lashing out, but he’s always had it in for me.”

Mauro frustrated was never good. Mauro vengeful, even worse. He never forgave, this she and I both knew. Once an enemy, always an enemy.

“I’ll talk to him.”

“Thank you.”

I slanted my head. “It might make it worse.”

“No worse than it already is,” she replied, rising from the sofa, a hand quickly skimming down her perfect fitting pencil skirt. “I have a conference call in ten minutes,” she said, plucking her tortoise shell eyeglasses from her desk.

We were done.

“Of course.” I rose from the sofa.

She took in a breath and exhaled slowly, the edges of her lips curving up ever so slightly. That almost smile that expressed satisfaction, yet also served to tamp down and press emotions into a vacuum sealed bag, leaving me still, after all these years, with that raw urge to rip it open and look inside.

Her penetrating gaze roved over me. “You look good, Turo. You seem well.”

My throat thickened, my lips parted to speak, but nothing came out. I could see us having a genuine, frank conversation. I could see us putting the last ten years aside and picking up where we’d left off. Clean slate. Mutual respect.

My chest tightened. Fuck, I’d missed her.

I lifted my chin. “I am. Very well.”

“Hmm.” Her eyes searched mine. “Are you happy?”

“I’m good, Erin.” I shut down her attempt at an inquiry.

She lifted that eyebrow again, her gaze traveling over me once more. “Thank you for coming.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

“I appreciate it.”

We stood there motionless, once mother, once son. Two business professionals exchanging pleasantries, a promise to cooperate, forging an agreement. How civilized of us.

Her smile faded, and something nipped at my insides. I strode from her office and, shutting the massive door behind me with a heavyclick, separated us once more.

As I took my coat from Marjorie, I let out a heavy breath, but it didn’t bring any relief. The burn of Erin’s fierce gaze still radiated through me along with the buzz from having seen her again. The elevator doors closed, and in the ride down the burn faded, but that buzz of excitement at seeing my mother remained. The same buzz of excitement I’d once felt as a child when she’d invite me out with her.

When I was in elementary school and would be home on school breaks, my mother would pick a day and take me out for a museum exhibition, and lunch at our favorite French restaurant, and shopping. She was very busy at graduate school and working at Grandfather’s office. This was our special time, just the two of us, and I loved it. We both did.

On one of these occasions, after seeing a Picasso exhibit at the Chicago Art Institute, we had an incredible meal at Ambria where we had our favorite appetizer,escargotsin a garlic butter sauce with pignoli nuts. Afterward, we headed up Michigan Avenue to Nordstrom.

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