Page 49 of Unforgivable Ties

“Sorry, I think you may have mistaken my reservation with another. I didn’t request that car.”

The woman blinked at me, her fingers frozen over the keyboard. “I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Lordova,” she said, her tone robotic and clearly rehearsed. “Let me double-check your reservation.”

While she worked, I glanced over at Stephanie. She was tapping away at her phone, talking to her friend Jessica about whatever the hell girls talk about.

“Unfortunately, we ran out of Audi’s. Very sorry for the inconvenience, sir.”

I wasn’t going to yell at the worker. She wasn’t the one responsible for the location not having the correct amount of vehicles available. But I was still frustrated.

“Is there anything else available?” I asked, trying to keep the annoyance from my voice.

“A Chrysler Pacifica,” she replied without missing a beat.

Another minivan. Not exactly what I had in mind, but maybe it would help sell the idea of domestic bliss when we pulled up to my mother’s house.

“We’ll just take the Odyssey,” I sighed, deciding to save further hassle.

Stephanie looked up from her phone, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “A minivan, huh?”

“I will leave you behind,” I said, taking the keys from the worker’s hand before grabbing her purse.

“As if!”

She had to lightly jog to keep up with my pace. There were a few downsides of being abnormally tall; one of them was that I had a larger stride than most people.

“I’ve never been to Rockport,” she said as we pulled away from the lot.

“Most people haven’t.”

Rockport was about an hour away from Boston. It was a small town of about 7,000 people, where my mom had decided to live a quiet life after my father died. She and my sister moved there when I was sixteen. My mother had begged me to come, but my life in the mafia was more important.

My sister, Alessandra, had since moved out of Rockport and to Boston, but she still visited my mom on a regular basis. Alessandra had a kid and my mother was over the moon to have a grandchild.

I knew she wished the same for me, too. But after seeing the cold reality of mafia life, I would not bring a kid into that world.

“How much does your mom know about...you know?” Stephanie asked, her eyes focused on the road ahead.

“Nothing since my dad passed. My entire life right now is a mystery to her,” I responded.

“Ah,” she said.

I liked that about Stephanie. No matter what I did, she never judged me, never prodded. She accepted the silence as much as she did the noise. As the miles blurred past, I found myself thinking about my mother and how she would react toStephanie. And then, perhaps for the first time since I’d entered this life, I allowed myself to wonder what it would be like to have a normal life.

I wondered what it would be like getting married to Stephanie and buying a three bedroom, two bathroom house, before we popped out two kids. She would be a doctor, and I would...the fantasy ended there. I didn’t have the luxury to fantasize beyond that point. There was no believable future for myself beyond the confines of the mafia.

“This is it,” I said as we entered the town.

It was a tiny seaside town, with bright and colorful buildings. Sailboats bobbed in the harbor, fishermen talking amongst each other. There were small shops with signs swinging lightly in the breeze, seafood places promising the catch of the day, and art studios showcasing local talent. Quaint bed and breakfasts lined the narrow streets, each with charm derived from the history within their walls. The townsfolk were relaxed, some waving as we drove past, a stark contrast to the tense unpredictability of my city life.

“Ooh, it’s so cute!” Stephanie said, her eyes growing wide. “It’s like a Hallmark movie. I feel like I’d get my heart broken, then move here and find the love of my life.”

Even though it was irrational, I felt a prickle of irritation at her words.

“Well, today I’m the love of your life, so you’re going to have to put that on the back-burner,” I said shortly.

Within fifteen minutes, we were outside of my mom’s house. I cut the engine, but couldn’t bring myself to get out of the driver’s seat.

“Vincenzo?” Stephanie asked. She had opened her car door and was stepping out.

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