A NIGHT WITH THE MAFIA KING

LAURA

"What's this? I said, already knowing exactly what it was but just hoping it was something

entirely different.

"I'm so sorry you and your family are going through this Laura. But I'm sure you understand why

I'm doing this. I can't let my grandchild die." Pa Lorenzo seemed rather apologetic and for that I

was grateful.

I could feel my face flush from a sudden rush of blood as I stared at the envelope.

"I understand. I'll get you the money before the end of two weeks." I honestly don't know where I

mustered the confidence to say that but somehow I knew this was yet another story to tell.

"This too will pass." My Dad always fondly said.

"Please just do me a little favor," I added

"I don't want my Mom knowing about this please, Okay?"

"Sì, Laura. No problem. See you around." He said as he turned to leave.

I stared as he walked away, not sure if I was assessing his stout physique with a unique pattern

of hairline or just looking into blank space.

I sat on a cold kitchen stool in my dad's almost empty restaurant, and glanced down at the piece

of paper in my hands.

My heart is racing fast and my hands are trembling; not from the shaky papers but from its

content; It's so bad I can barely smell the scent of roasted tomatoes from the stew mom is busy

making in front of me.

"NOTICE OF TERMINATION OF TENANCY". It read

We have just 2 weeks to buy the entire building else the contract of occupancy that has bound

us for years will be terminated. My family's only legacy is about to be wiped out like it never

existed.

Pa Lorenzo owns the building and has been Dad's close friend despite the fact the restaurant's

building initiated the friendship. It's not a complicated story. Dad was the tenant. Pa Lorenzo, the

land owner.

His grandchild has leukemia so he needs to sell the building to raise money for medical bills. I

get it. But that means, losing my Dad's business.

Two weeks and the place that raised me would be gone. This is the only place Dad's spirit

lingers. Hell, I can still smell his cologne and favorite garlic butter in the air.

Dad's dying wish was that I maintained the restaurant no matter what. I want to tell my mom.

Right now, but I can't. I don't want to risk her to another hypertensive attack in the last 2 months.

We've barely been coming by with the restaurant; it was our only source of funds whilst Dad

was in the hospital. We realized we were broke after Dad's funeral and now this.

While growing up, my passion had always been art. I had pictured myself in my 20s running an

art gallery but here I am at 22, getting desperate on how to save a family legacy.

If someone had told me years ago that this would be my reality at this age, I would have

punched that person in the face.

"What's that in your hands?"My Mom asked

I'm sure she suspects something is off but not entirely sure what it was. Growing up, I was

closer to my Dad than her. She loved me no doubt but always felt distant.

She has a stoic personality and for that, she'd take things harder than anyone would. I guess

that's why she and her father were inseparable because they were totally different people. Dad

was very vocal about his emotions.

"Nothing Mom. Just some update about a job I applied for last week." I said while smiling. These

words came out so quickly that I wondered why it felt so easy to lie to her. But it's for her good.

"Oh, Okay." She said, as if knowing my response was a lie but I hope not.

I quickly excused myself to give Kayla a call. She picked up at the second ring.

"Hey, babe." Kayla's voice would never disappoint.

"Kay, I need a job fast!" I said

There was a pause. "What's happening?" Kayla asked

I took a breath. "I've just gotten a notice, Kay. My dad's restaurant is about to be ripped off my

hands and I'm scared. I'm broke! I'm unemployed! What do I do now?"

I tried to hold in the pool of tears gathering in my eyes because the last thing I want is Mom

walking in on me crying.

"Keep it together, Laura. You're the bravest person I know" At this point, Kayla has sensed that

I'm this close to tearing up.

Kayla has been my best friend since our first grade and although we went on to the same

college, we studied different things. She chose Law. I chose Art. She graduated into power

suites and Courtrooms. I graduated with dreams and rejection letters.

"Laura, are you there?" Kayla's voice jerked me up back to reality.

"Yes, Kay. It's just that I don't feel brave anymore. It feels like everything is slipping through my

fingers."

"How's mom by the way? How's she taking the news?" Kayla asked as if she could read my

mind concerning what my mom's reaction would look like.

"I haven't told her. I don't even think I will. Have you forgotten that she's been frail and

weak-hearted since the illness and passing of my dad? The last thing I want is to become an

orphan."

One thing I admire about Kayla is her sense of reasoning. She's quick to understand things and

knows just the right thing to say when to make you feel alright when you're down. She was from

a wealthy family but she never let that get in her head but sorted out to discover her talent and

create a comfortable life for herself.

"How about we go out for drinks later?" Kayla asked in a tone that was out to convince me in

case I tried to decline.

But guess what? I didn't disappoint her. I wasn't just in the mood to go out. All I want is to crawl

into the blanket after a long hot bath and chill on Netflix.

But who am I kidding? Kayla would always have her way with me when it had to do with chilling

out.

"I don't know Kay. I'm not just feeling myself, and..."

"I'm not taking a No, Laura. You need to unwind and take your mind off this, even if it's for a

second. Getting worked up isn't going to make everything go away all once, you know?"

Although I knew all the pet talk was just to get me in the mood for some shots, I listened keenly

as if eagerly hoping she'd convince me. Deep down I knew it wouldn't be a bad idea so I

succumbed.

"Okay, fine. Send me the details; I'll meet you there." I responded

"Yay! That's my girl. See you soon."

Just as I got off the call, I heard the bell above the door jingle. I didn't look up because I already

knew who it was.

Just as I turned to make a run, the voice I loathed more than that Landlord's came on sharp in a

rather disgusting tone.

"Hey Laura, how're you doing?"

Normally, I would respond to that with a warm smile as I did to every other customer. My Dad

was always big on this saying, "Our smiles drew people closer" but Mr. Richardo abused the

privilege.

When I looked up, all I felt was a mixture of irritation and disdain.

"We're closed already, sir." I managed to muster with a straight face.

"Oh Laura, I've asked you to stop referring to me as Sir." He grinned, all teeth and sleaze

stained.

"But Laura, you know I'm not here for food. I'm here for you. Give me a chance and let me show

what I'm capable of." He added

Something in me just wanted to walk away like I always did but on this day, I cared to listen. I

wasn't interested obviously but I needed to get him off my back for good.

I blame the letter for replacing my usually soft demeanor with rage.

He leaned on the counter, eyes sliding down on my cleavage and fixed on my chest. "Such a

pervert," I thought.

"All these years, you've been playing difficult but I'm still here. Give me one night Laura and I'll

give you the world. Hell, I'll even buy you a house."

"You've got a family, Ricardo. Go tend to your wife and kids. To think that your little girl, Martha,

calls me Aunt Laura whenever she sees me." I said coldly as if expecting him to finally have

some sense.

He laughed, "What they don't know won't hurt them."

At this point, I've lost it for this man.

I slammed my hand on the kitchen counter and leaned in close with a look that he'd never seen

on me before.

"Try this next time and I swear to God, I'll give your wife a call. I'm sure she

already suspects you. One word from me and you can kiss your sorry ass goodbye hoping to

see your kids every other weekend."

I saw him turn pale from fear and it was exciting to watch. Finally, I put him right where I needed

him to be.

"I-I didn't mean anything serious. He stammered.

"Just talking. You know I didn't..." He went on to add but I cut him short.

"Save it. Talk your way out of my restaurant." I said as I turned to check on Mom through the

counter's window. She seemed so engrossed in the caprese salad she was making and had

noticed nothing.

Mr. Ricardo walked out while muttering some words about a misunderstanding but I didn't care

to listen.

The rest of the day wasn't different from every other day, save the letter, but it was time to go

home. Mom had left earlier.

I picked up my jacket from the coat hanger, turned off the lights, and just as I turned to make my

way out, the door chimed softly. Someone walks in.

At that moment, I felt it-a shift in the air.