Chapter 4
1215 Words
"Oh. I'm sorry!" a voice says, sensing the intimacy of the moment.
"How many times do I have to tell you to knock." Mac says with a smile as he gets up to greet what looks like a younger version of himself.
“Fey, this is my cousin Jo.” He runs things here when I'm not around.
“Man, are you ever around?” Jo says. "Nice to meet you."
Jo takes Mac to the side near the brown chair and tries to have a moment to talk to him. I can hear some of it when Jo says.
"Come one Mac... How can you do this... you can't be bringing another girl... It's going to--"
"Look..." Mac says, "I'll talk to you later about all that."
Jo says, “And look, the family is asking you to come over this weekend. There seems to be some issue that only you can—”
“Okay, brother…” He says cutting him off. “I’ll be there. Right now I have to do something.”
Jo hands him an envelope that looks pretty much like the one that he always has. Is it a new one every time? It’s also like the one that he gave me.
“Where are you off to now?” He asks with concern.
“We’re going to get something to eat,” he says.
He puts the envelope in his pocket and we leave the office. I just look up behind us and I can see Jo standing and looking at us from the high office window.
His eyes drill a hole in the back of my head as we leave. Does he have a problem with me? Am I just seeing things?
Either way, I don't say anything to Mac the whole time he is driving to the restaurant.
He's still playing his strange music and driving like he's racing with the ease and grace of a superstar.
There's just something magnetic about his bravado.
We get to a swanky restaurant on the top of a tall building.
The waiter places an auburn Manhattan for him and a glass of white wine for me.
I order the fish and he gets the steak.
“You should taste some of this.” He cuts off a bite-size piece and navigates it to my mouth. It’s delicious when I taste its rich flavors.
“I’m happy that you agreed to this date.” He says.
“Me too.”
“You sure about that?” He says, holding my gaze. “I have to tell you something before we go forward.”
My stomach tightens and my heart palpitates. What’s he about to say to me? Is he married? Is this some elaborate prank? Is it about his cousin brother?
“Okay, should I be worried?”
“Well, that depends,” He locks his eyes on mine.” My father is Patrove Skemeir”
He lets it sink in as he leans back and takes a sip. I raise my eyebrow.
“Is that supposed to mean something?”
He leans forward and drops his voice.
“To people who know that name, it means life and death.” He says. “He’s from Turkey but he has power all over the world.”
The way he says ‘power’ carries weight. He speaks of his power like a king or tyrant.
“What kind of power?”
“The type of power to do anything; the type of power that nobody can say no to.” He looks at my face, studying my expressions to see how deep he will go with me…
My pulse quickens and my face is giving all my thoughts away. I say, “Are you saying your father is mafia?”
He smiles a little bit.
“We wouldn’t call it that…We’re not American. It’s just the ‘family business’.”
I don’t believe my ears. I should just get up, leave and never talk to him again… I should walk away and never look back. Instead I say…“What about you?”
“Me?” He gathers his thoughts as he sips the drink. I'm the heir apparent. I’m what my father wants to shape into himself."
“What do you mean?”
“My life has only been about family and business, my father has already planned my future.”
“Maybe he’s just looking out for you, like parents do.” I say.
“He wants me to be someone that I’m not.” He says. “You’re the first time that I feel I can be myself and nobody can stop me."
"Do you feel you can't be yourself?"
“I'm no different from my father. Being myself comes with a cost." he says taking a sip of his drink. "Maybe you're the last chance I have..."
"Last chance of what?"
"Of finding myself." he says and lets the word dissipate in the evening air.
I'm looking in his eyes and he’s opening up to me.
He’s feeling a real connection with me right now and I want him to tell me more.
But some part of me is wondering if it's not too dangerous to know the finer details... Should I have a relationship with someone who's in a world like this?
But I can't deny it. I'm attracted to him.
The waiter comes and he settles the bill.
“Do you like ice cream?” He says to me…
I don’t get a chance to answer and he's already ordered two scoops of gelato with a hundred dollar bill that ensures the waiter’s promptness.
They come out instantly and he takes my hand and walks me to the elevator with our arms linked. In his other hand, he’s holding the gelato.
“I love how you look in that dress.” He says as the elevator door closes.
He’s giving me an eye that lets me know he wants me.
He says, “I want you to taste this...”
He scoops the ice cream with his tongue, and closes his eyes just a little when he swallows it.
“Do you want to have a taste?"
Every part of me wants to scream yes!
I play it cool as he puts the gelato in his mouth again and moves his head to kiss me.
I smile, and lean in to taste the gelato in his mouth.
I feel the coldness mixed with the warmth of his tongue forming a sweetness as the ice crystals melt.
His passion is insatiable, it lives and moves in his tongue. My body and tastebuds are yearning for him.
The cold gelato melts in his mouth as our tongues entangle. Each movement is sweet and arousing. He finally licks my lower lip of all the sweetness.
“It’s so delicious.” He says. “You enhance the taste.”
“I didn’t know you tasted so good.”
He wraps his arms around me as the elevator reaches the first floor.
I’m biting my lip with excitement, this is the most fun I’ve had in a while.
But it feels like dangerous fun.
He’s a very different type of guy… and he just told me he’s in the mafia.
- Writer
