Page 101 of Convenient Mafia Vows

“Who is he? Name, background, length of service.”

“Jonathan Carter. Came to us from a local high school. References all checked out. Eleven years’ service. Squeaky clean.” Her tone is professional. “Was granted compassionate leave when his wife died four years ago. What’s the problem?”

“His daughter and grandkid were in the lobby when I left. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Okay.” Julia seems to want to say more, but I don’t give her the opportunity.

A sleek black Bentley is parked outside the building, the rear passenger window rolling down as I approach. My mom’s face appears, and she calls out, “Brandon!” At least she doesn’t pretend that she was just passing by.

The passenger door opens—it’s an order not an invitation.

I climb in beside my mother who is looking regal in an ivory Chanel two-piece, her legs crossed primly at the ankles, her favorite subtle perfume filling the back of the car. All that’s needed to complete the queenly image is a gentle wave to her subjects through the window. I breathe in the familiar scent and my lips instinctively curl up at the corners. At thirty-five years old, I wonder if I will ever stop needing her praise and approval.

The Bentley joins the slow-moving traffic—it would be quicker to walk.

“Your father’s birthday.” She dives straight in—Ruby Weiss has never mastered the art of small talk. “You didn’t respond to my email.”

“I’ve been busy.” I don’t add that I knew she’d be angry if Julia replied on my behalf. “I’m not sure I can make it. I might have to fly out to Europe.”

She fixes me with the gaze usually reserved for wealthy acquaintances who are about to donate a large sum of cash to whichever charity she’s promoting at the time. “I already cleared your diary with Julia weeks ago, Brandon. I’ve managed to get hold of the Patek Philippe wristwatch your father has admired for so long. The Grandmaster Chime. And I want everyone to be there when he sees it.”

“For the grand unveiling,” I say.

For his sixtieth birthday, she had my father’s portrait painted by a relatively unknown Baltimore artist highly recommended by a close friend. His reaction was somewhat anticlimactic, and the painting has never been seen since.

“You seem a little on edge.” My mom’s eyes narrow as she studies my face.

I glance at my phone. A message from Julia:Done.

I need to get out of the car, walk to the meeting, clear my head and release some of the tightness in my neck and shoulders. Perhaps I’ll get Julia to arrange the masseuse for later this afternoon; weekly visits are no longer enough.

“I’m fine,” I say tightly.

“You work too hard,” she says without conviction. “You need someone to look after you.”

“I have Julia.”

“You know what I mean. Look how happy your brother is. All I ever wanted was to see you both happy and content.”

“I know, Mom.”

Satisfied that she has made her point, she sits back again. “I don’t want the celebrations spoiled by business talk. I’m relying on you to steer the party the right way if your father is getting drawn into a serious conversation. You know what he’s like.”

I do, and so does she. If the chat turns to business, a bunch of wild horses won’t drag him away.

“Kelly has been helping me with the theme. We’re keeping it theatrical. Your father lovedHamiltonwhen we saw it on Broadway…”

I tune out. My shirt collar feels two sizes too small, and the back of the car is starting to feel claustrophobic, my mom’s perfume clinging to every available surface. Of course, Kelly has beenhelping her. She’s the perfect daughter-in-law, a good mom, a loving wife, and never misses a family event.

“Stop the car.” I’m already reaching for the handle as the Bentley draws to a smooth halt. “Sorry, Mom,” I say. “But I’m running late.”

I climb out and close the door behind me. My mother slides across the seat and peers out through the lowered window. “Brandon, next time you use an important meeting as an excuse to avoid talking to me, can you at least make sure your pants are clean?”

She sits back in her seat as the tinted window glides up and the car moves on.

Chapter 2

Rose

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