Page 67 of Mafia Virgin (The Kings of Italy)

“Of course not. No one gets drunk on less than two glasses of wine.”

“Except people who don’t drink.”

“I drink.” I mean, I didn’t . . . but I didn’t want him to know that.

He nodded, though his expression said he didn’t believe me. “Your phone call. Do you want to do it now?”

“Yes!” I tried to get off the bar chair, but my feet tangled up and I nearly fell. Giacomo caught me, his strong hands wrapping around my ribs. Then I was upside down, over his shoulder and being carried out of the kitchen.

“Stop. Put me down!” I grabbed the back of his shirt. “Giacomo!”

He ignored me. His boots thumped on the tile as he strode through the house. I thought he would go up the stairs, but he surprised me by taking me into his office. Sal said Giacomo hardly ever used it, that he wasn’t the type of leader who sat behind a desk. It made sense. He reminded me more of my father, a hands-on boss who was out with the men all day.

I flipped again and my butt hit wood. I straightened my glasses and let the dizziness pass. He had me on the desk facing his chair, which he was now sitting in. In a locked drawer he found a plastic package and took it out. It was a disposable mobile phone. The package was already open, so he slid the phone out. “It’s charged, with an untraceable SIM card.” He handed it to me. “There.”

I took the small phone and turned on the power. “Thank you. I’ll call after you leave.”

Giacomo leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head. I was momentarily distracted by the biceps bulging in his arms. Did he lift weights every day?

“I’m not leaving,” he said. “So, dial.”

I frowned. I didn’t want him listening to this conversation. “This is a private call.”

“Dai, there’s no such thing. And do you think I would be so stupid as to give you a phone without knowing what you say?”

I heard the edge in his voice, so I rushed to explain. “I’m not telling my uncle where I am. This is not a rescue call.” Not really. It was the first step in a rescue plan, but Giacomo didn’t need to know that.

“Call now before I change my mind.”

I tried to think of a way around it. I didn’t want to talk to Uncle Reggie with Giacomo listening in. How could I discuss my father’s illness and moving him to another location without tipping Giacomo off? I couldn’t.

Uncle Reggie and I weren’t close. I hardly ever spoke to him or his son, Dante. My phone call would only confuse him unless I could explain myself.

Gloria, though . . . .

My father’s caregiver and I had spent more time together over the four months than anyone else. We practically finished each other’s sentences. That’s what happened when you were in the trenches together, so to speak, every single day. She’d be able to read between the lines—and I knew she had my father’s best interests at heart.

I began dialing.

“Put it on speaker,” Giacomo snapped.

The phone began to ring, so I pushed the speaker button. I tried to ignore the hulk of a man sitting mere centimeters away.

“Hello?” Gloria’s voice crackled from the tiny phone.

“Oh, Aunt Gloria, hi. It’s Emma. I was trying to reach Uncle Reggie.”

I heard some shuffling, like maybe she was moving someplace private. “Hello, dear! Good to hear from you. How are you?”

“I’m fine. Peru is beautiful and the hours are brutal, but I’m learning a lot. I miss Toronto, though. How is everything there? Is Uncle Reggie giving you a hard time?”

Gloria didn’t miss a beat. “He’s the same. Your father, too. Nothing new to report here with the family.”

That was good. “I need two favors. First, I need my bed and medical equipment moved into my new apartment by the university. Maybe you could ask Uncle Reggie to do it?”

Gloria paused but only for a split second. “Sure. Is it time dependent?”

“Yes, very. I’m sorry. I know you have a lot on your plate.”

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