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Authors: Andrea Smith

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Dominic had used Robert intermittently, but not typically when he was staying over for the night.

“Okay, I do not understand any of this. You have a
new
driver now? And he stays parked out front all night? Why?”

“Yes and because.”

“Because why?” I asked impatiently.

“In case you didn’t come back this evening. I don’t like to drink and drive.”

What the hell?

“Are you staying?” I asked, throwing a bit of a glare into it.

“Am I invited?” he asked flashing a wicked smile.

I had to smile then and shake my head at the total absurdity of all of this. I was tempted to ask the man, who now had one of his hands caressing my bare thigh, who the hell he was, and what had he done with Dominic? This stuff was becoming stranger by the minute.

“Yes,” I said, giving him a sigh and feeling his fingers now moving up underneath my shorts, exploring the territory that was only his.

“Send him away.”

c
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23

To say that Dominic and I made up for lost time in my bed the previous night would be pretty damn accurate. I wasn’t sure if my hormones were off the charts, but I couldn’t get enough of him, or him of me it seemed.

We didn’t talk about the past few weeks, because I knew there wasn’t anything he could tell me, and it was better if I didn’t know, even though it was driving me nuts! All I
wanted
to know was when things would be back to the way they had been. I needed to know that because of…well, because of the
obvious
.

It was a legitimate question; and it was one that he just might be able to answer if so compelled.

We had showered together and were dressing in silence.

Here goes.

“Dominic,” I said softly, walking over to where he was rooting around in one of my dresser drawers for a clean pair of socks, “Look, I know that family business of some sort has kept you away for the past several weeks, and trust me, I want no details, but can you at
least
tell me when things will be back to normal?”

“Normal?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow as he turned to face me. “When has our relationship ever been normal?”

“Okay,” I conceded, giving him an eye roll, “Bad choice of words, I get it. So, how about
when
will things get back to the way they were
before
all this shit started, forcing you to be gone so much?”

He sank down on the bed, pulling a sock on and not looking at me.

Can’t be good.

“It’s very complicated right now. I honestly can’t say, it could be weeks, maybe longer.”

A feeling of despair enveloped me and in that instant I felt as if things might never be like they were before. I wasn’t sure what was going on, and I wasn’t savvy enough to even guess, but what I did know was that I damn well couldn’t give Dominic the news.

Not now.

And maybe not ever.

He rose up from the bed and came to stand before me. I looked up into his dark brown eyes and saw sadness in them; as if he had concluded the very same thing with respect to us.

“Karlie,” he sighed. “My driver is out front. I’m flying out of town this morning. I have business in another city, so I’m not sure how soon I’ll be back. Please be patient. Vinnie will be handling West End while I’m gone—”

Ah hell no.

“But that doesn’t include DBK and the boutique, right?” I asked hurriedly, I felt the skin on my forehead crease, a sure indication I was worried.

“Don’t worry,” Dominic said, “Only in the capacity that I was assisting you. If you need anything, he’s your go-to person for now.”

I still couldn’t relax and he was so good at reading my body language.

He chuckled softly. “Relax Tesoro. I’ll be in touch with him and with you. If there are any problems, you know that I’ll stand by
you
, right?” he asked, his expression serious.

“I guess,” I mumbled, not sure why Dominic would even expose me to someone like Vinnie. But then I had to keep reminding myself that Dominic and Vinnie were all in the same family, the same business. I only hoped the promises that Dominic had made to me about not involving West End or DBK in anything shady had been shared with Vinnie.

Dominic left and as I watched the shiny black sedan head down the street with his “driver” whom I now suspected doubled as a bodyguard, I truly wondered if the promises Dominic had made to me were ever intended to be kept. For the first time ever, I was filled with doubt.

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24

It was the first week of September, and Dominic had been gone for almost two weeks. I’d heard nothing.

So far, Vinnie hadn’t been overly up my ass, but I could certainly see the wisdom in having Sherry managing the boutique. She was clearly cut out for it, the sales had been skyrocketing, plus it kept Vinnie sniffing around her on the other side of town.

Abigail Andreoff had placed an order for two dozen power suits and another dozen boyfriend jackets due to ship at the end of September.

I was checking the latest creations off the machines for our winter line when Sherry pulled up to the door of the sewing shop. She was all smiles as she got out of her car and headed over to me with an envelope in her hands.

“Guess what came in the mail today?” she asked.

“The electric bill?” I deadpanned.

“Noooo, your big break!”

“Huh?”

“Look,” she said, handing me the envelope.

I pulled out a carbonless, double copy form and studied it. It was a Request for Quote on every released design I had cataloged to date. Power suits, evening dresses, jackets, leggings, over-sized shirts both for winter and spring.

And the quantities requested were in the hundreds. Several material swatches were attached from my sample catalog that I had sent out in July to no more than a dozen entrepreneurs. I had never expected a quote request to materialize for these types of quantities.

I looked at the header of the RFQ form: Corallo Couture located in Naples, Italy. The contact person was listed as Colette Corallo, Executive Manager.

“I don’t understand,” I said, feeling totally out of the loop. “How would this place
even
know about my little design shop? They weren’t on my mailing list of potential clients.”

“Who knows? Maybe one of the others on your mailing list passed it on. Do you realize how much money this order could bring in?”

“It’s only a request for a quote, Sherry,” I reminded her. “We don’t have an order yet. By the way, who’s minding the shop?”

She flushed a pale pink. “Oh, I was so excited when the mail came, I asked Vinnie to keep an eye on things while I ran this over to you.”

Doesn’t he have a day job criminalizing somewhere?

“You know that’s the
other
thing. Wonder why it was delivered to the boutique and not here at the business office?”

“I dunno,” she shrugged. “Hey, maybe one of those high-end ladies from Manhattan passed the info along. You gave out some catalogs at the opening, along with your card, remember?”

I nodded. It was possible. I just didn’t want to get my hopes up that this quote request would lead into a solid order. I had never priced wholesale items in bulk before.

“Well, I guess that I’ll be tied up figuring this quote for the next week.” I sighed as if it were drudgery instead of a great opportunity. It didn’t feel right. None of this felt
right
anymore.

“Good luck,” she said, taking off. “Hey, Vinnie said if you need help with getting the quote out, he can send someone from his office to mind the boutique, so I’m here if you need me. Just let me know.”

“Okay,” I called out after her, thoroughly distracted.

As much as I hated to do it, I had to take Vinnie up on his offer. Sherry started working with me the next day to get pricing for the large quantities of materials that would be required to fill that potential order. Vinnie had sent one of his ‘company’s admins.

Two days later, I faxed the quote to Corallo Couture.

“I guess we just wait and see,” I said to Sherry. “I hope our figures were right.” I felt myself biting my lower lip for the umpteenth time.

“Oh come on, Karlie,” she said, “We both went over them a half-dozen times. They’re fine. Hey, if you get this order, that’s a $20,000 profit to the bottom line. Think about that, eh?”

I nodded, but somehow I just couldn’t share her enthusiasm. I had other things on my mind at the moment.

Like my appointment with the doctor tomorrow. My initial appointment with the gyno who would confirm what the double pink-lined piss stick already had diagnosed. I would probably even get a due date established.

Here’s the thing: it wasn’t like I had medical insurance coverage, or would be asking Dominic about getting some anytime soon. Since I’d been in New Jersey, the only doctor I had visited was a dentist for a cleaning and check-up. I had simply paid cash.

So, I would simply pay cash for this visit as well. Hell, I had enough money stashed away to pay the bill in full right now if the doctor required it. I just wasn’t sure how much longer I would be able to stick around.

Luckily, I had scheduled the very first appointment of the day. I told Lilly and Rita that I wouldn’t be in until around ten because of a dentist appointment. They required very little over-sight so it was all-good.

The following morning I gathered a bundle of cash from my dresser drawer, shoving it into my purse, and headed out for my appointment with Dr. Campbell in nearby Moorestown.

Had I not been so distracted with following the written directions and trying my best to skirt around rush hour traffic, I might’ve noticed that a dark sedan with heavily tinted windows had been following me since I left my condo.

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25

September 15, 1986
East Harlem, NYC

Dominic

I was fucking tired of going over the same shit day after day with these union jackals. They gave new meaning to the phrase: same shit, different day.

Unfortunately, I had figuratively grasped the short straw when my father had gathered us all together with two other east coast families to form this ‘transportation cartel’ as he termed it. After all, he pointed out I was the one holding the law degree from Harvard. Therefore, I had been temporarily appointed consigliere and assigned to work alongside the underbosses, capos and consiglieres of the other two families.

Everyone in the cartel held a stake in seeing that the waterfront interests remained stable throughout the upcoming International Longshoreman’s Association (ILA) union elections. There were those in political power that didn’t appreciate LCN’s strong presence and guidance with respect to ensuring that those currently empowered as executives within ILA remained in power in an effort to make sure the appropriate lower-level union officials stayed in power.

My brother Sal, being the oldest, was the underboss for our family interests. He sat right beside me, and he genuinely enjoyed the sparring and veiled threats that were tossed back and forth between the interested parties; I had places I’d rather be.

I spotted Marco Trevani across the room, sitting at a table plotting strategy with the other Giometti associates. I knew what he had up his sleeve.

“Sal,” I said, nudging him away from his off-topic conversation with a Solese capo. “You’re clear on our family’s position when the voting starts, capisce?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he snapped. “I got the old man’s blessing to cast his proxy vote and my vote for Marco. Still don’t get why you wanna back Trevani for Secretary-Treasurer. I thought you didn’t trust the son-of-a-bitch after that China White deal?”

“I trust him to be consistent,” I remarked. “We know where his skeletons are buried…literally. Besides, he holds the same reverence as we do for free enterprise. Our interests will have less risk with him in that position.”

“Are you sure we’ll have the same cash flow?” he asked, tossing a frown at me.

“Look,” I explained, “When you think about it, reducing our portion of the skim will help get all of the locals to ratify their contracts without threat of a strike. They’ll like having reduced union dues, and they’ll trust that the executive board is doing what they should be doing in their best interests.”

“Fuck, Nick,” he said, smiling, “You make it sound almost benevolent. Maybe it was worth the fucking pitch I had to give Pop last night. I still don’t see how this is gonna help our current problems with the Feds.”

“Feds can be bought,” I stated simply. “You’ve done it, I’ve done it. Trevani will make sure it gets done for
all
of us. A concerted effort if you will.”

“Yeah, well it ain’t as
easy
as it used to be. You have been outta the loop for a while. Is that why you’re in such a hurry to wrap this up?”

“You’re not?”

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