Page 27 of Prince of Vice

Chapter Twelve

Isabella

A shrill ring pierces the air, pulling me from my thoughts. I glance down at my phone and see Primo's name flashing on the screen for the third time in less than an hour. My heart races, but I press the reject button with a shaky finger. "Not now, Primo. I can't deal with you right now."

Stepping out of my car, I take a deep breath, inhaling the intoxicating scent of garlic and fresh bread that wafts from the little Italian restaurant in front of me. The warm glow emanating from its windows promises solace, a brief respite from the chaos swirling around me. I'm excited to reconnect with Tammy, who has been my mentor and friend through thick and thin.

I tug on the heavy wooden door, and it creaks open to reveal a cozy, dimly lit room filled with laughter and clinking glasses. My eyes scan the familiar faces of couples sharing intimate moments, friends celebrating life, and then they land on her – Tammy. She's already waiting for me, her vibrant smile lighting up the room like a beacon. Her slightly graying blonde hair is tied up in a neat bun and she's impeccably dressed in a tailored skirt suit, as always. I wave, feeling a warmth spread through me as I think about what this woman means to me.

Tammy was more than just a professor during my first semester of law school; she became a confidante, someone I could turn to when things got overwhelming. She never judged me based on my father's mob connections, instead seeing me for who I truly was: a passionate, ambitious young lawyer determined to make a difference. As I moved into private practice and eventually took over my father's firm, our bond only grew stronger.

"Isabella! Over here!" Tammy calls, beckoning me toward her table nestled in the corner. Her voice soothes away the rough edges of my day as I weave my way through the crowded room.

"Tammy, it's so good to see you," I say, enveloping her in a tight hug. Her arms wrap around me, and for a moment, I allow myself to sink into the comfort of her embrace.

"Sit down, sit down," she insists, gesturing to the empty chair across from her. "I've been dying to hear all about what's going on with you."

As I settle into my seat, I notice the curious glint in her eye and I smile. This is what I've always loved about Tammy – her genuine interest in my life and well-being. It was a rarity in a world where people were often too consumed with their own problems to truly care about anyone else.

"Where do I even begin?" I sigh, running a hand through my hair.

A young waitress with a pixie cut approaches us several times, her pen poised over her notepad, ready to take our orders. But each time, we're too engrossed in our discussions to even glance at the menu. Eventually, we decide to order cappuccinos, providing us with the perfect excuse to continue talking without the interruption of food.

"So, how have things been?" Tammy asks, her blue eyes filled with genuine concern. She has this uncanny ability to sense when something's off, which is why I'm not surprised when she adds, "I could tell you were stressed out when I saw you at the Bar Association meeting, and I could hear it in your voice over the phone."

"Can't hide anything from you, can I?" I say, chuckling softly. My laughter fades as I think about Primo and the challenges his case presents. "Primo's case is more complicated than I anticipated. And, his compliance has been... difficult. He's stubborn and secretive, making it hard for me to build a strong defense for him. We've had frequent disagreements, and even though he's generally agreed to everything I've suggested, his compliance never comes easily."

Tammy listens attentively, nodding every so often. Our cappuccinos arrive, and I wrap my hands around the warm ceramic, eager for the soothing effect of the steaming beverage.

Taking a deep breath, I let the rich scent of my cappuccino wash over me. Tammy leans in closer, her kind eyes twinkling with the wisdom and experience etched in the fine lines around them. "Isabella, let me tell you about a case I had when I was working as a public defender. It might offer some perspective."

I nod, eager to hear her story, hoping it will provide solace amidst the chaos of Primo's trial.

"Years ago," she begins, "I had a client who was accused of recruiting high school boys into a gang. He was a teacher at their school, and he believed he could sway the jury with his charisma and lies." She shakes her head, her blond hair catching the warm glow of the restaurant's dim lighting. "This man was adamant about taking the stand, and despite my best efforts, I couldn't convince him otherwise."

My heart sinks as I imagine that responsibility on Tammy's shoulders, the same weight I now bear defending Primo. My fingers tighten around the ceramic cup.

"And what happened?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course, it didn't go well," she sighs. "The jury saw right through him, and he was ultimately convicted and sentenced to life in prison."

"Tammy, I'm not sure this is helping me feel any better," I admit, my stomach churning with anxiety.

She reaches out and places her hand on mine, her touch grounding me in the present moment. "Isabella, the point of my story isn't to scare you. It's to remind you that even I struggled with controlling clients back then. And look at you – you've already got someone like Primo Maldonado to comply with your strategy."

Her words weave a blanket of reassurance around me, her faith in my abilities helping calm my frayed nerves. I let out a shaky breath, trying to absorb the truth in her words.

"Thank you, Tammy," I say, feeling the ghost of a smile on my lips. "You always know what to say to make me feel better."

"Of course, dear," she says, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "Now go on and show them what a brilliant lawyer you are."

The confidence Tammy infuses into me blooms like a rose, petals unfolding to reveal its beauty. I take a deep breath, feeling the air fill my lungs and rejuvenate me from within.

"Isabella," she says, her voice warm, "have you come up with any theories about the evidence?"

I ponder for a moment, swirling the last drops of my cappuccino in the cup. "There's something lurking behind the scenes, but I can't quite pinpoint it yet," I admit, my words tinted with frustration. "It feels like a setup, and I need to determine who's behind it. That should be enough to clear Primo's name."

"Ah," Tammy murmurs, her eyes gleaming in the dim light of the restaurant. "You're on the right path, Isabella. Just keep going." The certainty in her voice helps steady me against my own storm of doubts.

---