Page 11 of Captured Fantasy

“I’m heading to the pool,” I said.

Lucien’s mouth pressed together in a thin line. “I need to talk business with you and I don’t want to swim right now, so join us for a round.”

He didn’t leave me much room for argument. Ten minutes later I was walking across the sweltering green, a second icy beer in my hand. Lucien led the way to where Federico stood in the teeing zone, leaning on his club talking to a young woman wearing a tiny golf skirt. As we approached, I saw him slip a bit of paper into her hand and she turned, her ponytail bouncing as she walked away.

“Jesus, that was Meredith Casella, the club owner’s daughter,” said Lucien. “At least I think it was. Keep it in your pants, Rico.”

“Believe it was,” said Federico. “She’s got a great ass.”

“Don’t fuck up the outfit’s relationship with the club, Rico.”

I brought the beer up to my mouth, trying not to look guilty because I’d fucked my fair share of girls who worked at the club. Including Meredith Casella. Federico shrugged, looking up as the drink cart crested the hill and pulled to a stop. I stood off to the side, wondering what I was doing here while they got their drinks. Lucien turned to me as the cart disappeared down the driveway.

“I talked to Romano and he talked to your father and I’d like you to be officially in charge of running the ports,” he said.

I stared at him, caught off guard. “I’m not in your jurisdiction.”

“Well, you are now because Romano approved it,” said Lucien, squinting across the green as Federico swung. “So I guess you could say I’m your new boss now.”

The ball sailed off into the distance.

“Fuck,” said Federico.

“Better luck next time,” I said, turning back to Lucien. “I’ll talk to my father, but I’m not sure this is the best move for me. My father could retire in a few years, or months, and I’ll be underboss then.”

“Which is why this is the perfect training for you right now,” said Lucien. “You have a talent, Barone. Since you started at the ports, we’ve had more order and less loss than ever. With the Russians up our asses, we need to keep both eyes on our product.”

I studied him, realizing slowly that he was only telling me a partial truth.

“This is about my sister,” I said, looking across the green at Federico striding down the hill. “You want to keep things in the family.”

“The ports are crucial,” said Lucien. “We make the majority of our income via imports and exports. I need someone I trust, someone who will always be close with my family to run them.”

“Perhaps you should be diversifying,” I suggested lightly.

“I’m working on that. Here’s the thing, Barone,” said Lucien, resting his club over his shoulders. “Come spring, I’ll be engaged to your sister, which means I’ve got a bond with your family that can’t be broken. I want you on my side, Cosimo.”

I hesitated, unsure if Lucien was the person I wanted to be aligned with. I’d never liked him, but he’d made a point in the locker room. I didn’t want him as my enemy, especially if we were going to be underbosses together when my father retired.

“Can I think about it?”

“If the answer is yes, then sure, go ahead.” Lucien shrugged. “Think as long as you like. It won’t make a difference.”

Biting back my annoyance, I turned back to the clubhouse. “I’m fucking sweating my balls off, so if that’s it, I’m heading back inside.”

Lucien nodded, not taking his eyes off the ball as he swung his club experimentally over his shoulder. Sighing, I ran my hand over my face to clear the sweat and went back to the clubhouse to find Amadeo had appeared at the bar. He had his laptop set up beside Paolo and they were both talking quietly in Italian so the bartender couldn’t overhear.

“Hey, Barone, come here,” Amadeo said, lifting his hand. “Did you see this?”

I hovered over his shoulder as Amadeo brought up an encrypted email. Reading quickly, my stomach sank. It was an announcement from Romano that I would be taking over the management of the ports starting next week. A flash of rage at Lucien moved through me and I bit my tongue.

“Fuck, I guess it’s settled then,” I said.

“That’s huge,” said Amadeo, frowning. “You should be celebrating.”

“If I’d gotten a choice in it, I’d be happier,” I said, crossing to the door on the far side of the room. “I’m going to the pool.”

Amadeo joined me at the edge of the pool, still wearing his good clothes. I lined up the shots I’d brought from the bar and proceeded to down them all in a row. The flavored vodka burned a trail down my spine and my shoulders relaxed.

---