Page 2 of Perfect Match
A subtle smirk paints Antonio’s features, and it’s one that only my father and I, who know him best, would recognize.
My head aches from the strain of arguments over the last three hours. A total shitstorm that, along with little sleep over the last forty-eight hours, has left me drained. Endless cups of coffee are no replacement for food, even if I do love a long black more than I should. And the four walls are beginning to close in on me, even if one of those walls is a floor-to-ceiling window with a spectacular view across the Bay of Naples to Sorrento. I need to escape.
A couple of hours is all I need to grab a proper meal, breathe in some fresh air, and decompress. I send my brother a look for support as I draw the attention of the five men with a tap of my pen on the table.
“This seems like a good point to take a break. Mr. Chairman, could we resume in two hours?”
A murmur of agreement around the group leaves my father no choice but to agree with my suggestion. The scrape and shuffle of movement is split by my father’s booming command, “Giovanni and Antonio, could you please stay.”
Fuck, we were so close to escape. I move to stand near the window, my back to the view.
Antonio pulls out his cell and taps out a short message, then places it facedown on the table before turning to face our father. We can both play the role of a dutiful son when we need to.
He glares first at me and then my brother, and I’m reminded of the times we were summoned to his home office as young boys.
After he’s kept us waiting for a couple of beats, having been assured of our undivided attention, he says, “I’m not happy with what just happened. You should have told me of your plans.”
Ha, as if we’d be foolish enough to give him the chance to change the board’s votes from Antonio to his weak-willed cousin. I lean back against the window frame, crossing my arms over my chest.
He continues, “But I think I can make this work. You boys need to just follow my lead.”
Neither my brother nor I react to his suggestion. My father’s obsessive desire for power and control no longer has the ability to surprise me, but it always leaves me wondering how it’s possible that I share the same DNA as this man.
I push off from the window and walk back to the table, bracing my hands on the back of my chair. “Sorry, father. I can’t promise that. However, what I will do is guarantee you and the board that I will always make my decisions based on what is best for the business.”
If my father were a cartoon character, there would be puffs of steam billowing from his ears.
Antonio stands. “I agree with Gio, Mr. Chairman. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a dinner reservation.”
“I’ll walk out with you,” I tell him, and when we reach the door, I turn my head back to my father, who is still sitting at the head of the conference table. “Father, I’ll see you later.”
We walk side by side to the hotel elevator.
“Fuck, that was intense … And immensely satisfying,” Ant admits. He’s my younger brother by fifteen months, and from an early age, we learned to have each other’s back when it came to dealing with our father.
I swing my arm around his shoulders in a side hug. “Congratulations, bro. It’s good to hear you’ve no regrets.”
“What, are you kidding? That was the most fun I’ve had in a meeting in a long time.”
The elevator ding rings through the empty corridor as the doors open and we step in. “Do you want to go for a drink?”
“Sorry, I’m meeting Lucia for dinner. I’m flying back to Florence tonight, so it’s our only chance to catch up. You can join us if you want?” he offers.
“No, it’s okay. You guys will want to catch up, and honestly, I think I need some quiet time alone. I’ll go grab one of Emilio’s excellent pizzas.” I leave Ant in the lobby on his way to the bar while I exit the hotel.
It’s only a short walk to my cousin Emilio’s restaurant down by the water. And as I walk, I pop a couple of chewable Advil tablets into my mouth, hoping to alleviate my throbbing headache.
The final item on the board meeting agenda is my proposal to enter the discovery phase for a multimillion-dollar deal with a new global distributor. I’m sure I’ll get pushback from my father and his cronies, but if we want to grow the business, these big decisions are what’s needed.
For weeks, I’ve been working with the lawyers to cut the list of potential vendors down to two. But when I spoke to my fatherearlier in the week, that wasn’t good enough for him. He wants his friend’s company added to the shortlist, even though they fall a long way short of meeting our current needs.
A heavy sigh leaves my lungs as I drop into a chair at the first empty table. A few more lungfuls of the fresh sea breeze, and I’m already starting to feel better. I drop my head into my hands and massage my fingers through my hair. It’s been a long week. No, make that a long month in Italy. This visit has been longer than usual, and I’m looking forward to returning to Manhattan.
I lift my head again and pull my Ray-Bans from my suit pocket. Sunlight glints across the azure waters of the Mediterranean like sequins sprinkled from the heavens. Not that there is a cloud in the paler blue early afternoon sky. My cousin Emilio’s pizza restaurant is one of my favorites. Small and quiet, and the view across the Bay of Naples is stunning. I breathe in the fresh, salty air and lose myself to the musical ring of rigging slapping against the metal masts as the little sailing boats sway in the slight swell.
As I lean farther back in the wrought iron chair, it tips onto two legs, and I draw in another deep breath, releasing it along with the last squeeze of tension from my shoulders.
Emilio appears, blocking my view, placing a bottle of cold water on the table.
