It all makes sense now. I understand the reverence and fear of the people around us every time we go out. I know why Nate walks ahead, ignoring any line of people, and is immediately ushered to the best table, the best seat, the best view. I know why he’s brought a bottle of the best wine—on the house, of course. It’s too much for a simple real estate mogul—even a really good one.
No one in the family has an actual job. From what Nate has said, they all have very expensive hobbies—from cars to boats to traveling abroad just to get that perfect picture with the Pyramids of Giza in the background—but no defined work titles. Even Antony and his law degree doesn’t seem to actually practice any law.
It all makes perfect sense now. Whatever the Orso family does, it’s not entirely legal. Sure, the real estate part of it is undoubtedly profitable, but there’s more to it than that. I’d heard bits and pieces of Nate’s hushed phone calls with Antony, none of which seemed to relate to real estate, and he’d always brush it off if I asked him about it. If it were all legitimate, Nate wouldn’t feel the need to change the subject.
Nate and Antony have both referenced business associates in Chicago, Seattle, and New York. When I asked about who they were, Nate replied with, “No one you need to concern yourself with.”
Nate is a gangster.
A generous, sweet, handsome gangster.
“Did you enjoy yourself?”
“What?” I haven’t heard anything Jessie has said for the last few minutes, and now she’s asking me a question.
“Did you enjoy your time with Nate yesterday?”
For the briefest moment, I think she means did I enjoy the sex, but then I realize she’s asking about the festival.
“It was wonderful!” I say with what has to look like a fake smile. I can’t think about the festival now—my head is churning. “Um, I’d never had maple sugar candy before. Oh, and the fireworks were incredible!”
“Next weekend it will be even bigger,” Jessie says. “More fireworks, more food, more music. I love the maple syrup festival! Now, hunny, tell me everything.”
“Everything?” I take a deep breath and try to concentrate on something other than images of Nate carrying a violin case and wearing a fedora. “Everything about what?”
“About you and Nate, of course! Are things getting serious with you two? Have you been to their house?”
“Yes, I’ve been to the house a few times now. They have family dinners every week.”
“Oh, wow! I had no idea! Tell me all about it!”
“Well, we eat,” I say with a chuckle, “and then usually play pool. Once we watched a movie in their home theatre.”
“Hmm.” Jessie seems disappointed.
“What?”
“I have to be honest with you, hunny,” she says. “I’m under a lot of pressure here.”
“Pressure?”
“The ladies at the salon want to know if it’s serious, you see. I told you about Sally, didn’t I? You should let her do your nails, dear. Anyway, they figured out that you are my neighbor—I didn’t tell them, I swear—and they want all the dirt. So, you give me some dirt I can share so I can get them off my back!”
“Dirt?”
“Oh, nothing too personal, of course! Just whatever you’d like to tell.”
“Um…” I have no idea what to say, and I tell her this.
“Tell me all about the house! That should appease them.”
I give her a brief description, focusing mainly on the antique furniture. This seems to satisfy her a bit.
“Now, between just the two of us, is it serious?”
“I…” I remember the feeling of his hands on my bare skin, his rhythmic movements, and the sound he made when he…
“Ha! I can see it is!”
I look away, clearly red as a rose.
“So, any plans for the future?”
“The future?”
“Well, I can see you aren’t wearing a ring,” Jessie says, “and if he’d given you one, it would be major news around here. Do you think he will?”
“I…I have no idea, Jessie. I mean, we’ve only been dating for a few weeks. It would be a little soon to be thinking that far ahead.”
“Yes, well, different times.” Jessie shrugs. “I know I’m only in my fifties, but I do think it was easier back then. My mama was married at sixteen, and she’d only known my daddy a month or two before they were married. I know what you’re thinking, but it wasn’t a shotgun wedding or anything like that. My oldest brother wasn’t born until more than a year later…”
As Jessie starts in on another monologue, my stomach rolls over as I try to process the information I’m only starting to put together. All the quiet phone calls, all the whispers, all the time Nate gave someone a harsh stare in my presence, immediately silencing them with a glance.
Jessie said I wasn’t blind, but I clearly have been.
“Does he like it?”
I blink a couple of times, trying to focus as I realize she’s asked me a question.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Does Nate like the quilt I made for you?”
“Yes, actually. He does.”
“I knew it!” Jessie laughs so hard she snorts, then laughs some more about that. A moment later, she jumps up and says she’d better go before she has an accident, and I’m left alone again.
I get up slowly and pour myself a glass of water. I stare out the window as my mind continues to race. Is the whole east side, west side conflict all about a mob war of some kind? Is that really a thing? I thought organized crime was
