Dinner on Friday

49. Dante

KEEPING A CLEAR HEAD

Two days shy of two weeks, the phone Mathias had given me rang. I knew Martin's number out of my head, so without hesitating, I answered.

"It's done," he said.

"Good. Thank you." I leaned back in my father's chair, watching the long shadows the dim lights cast on the dark furniture in the office.

As a teenager, I dreamt of sitting behind the desk one day, ruling the clan with an iron fist. I imagined making love to my future wife on the couch across the room, our passion marking this place of power. I often saw my children bursting in with innocent laughter while I was busy issuing deadly orders over the phone.

Unlike my father, who had made the office a foreboding place of fear, I wanted it to be a space where my family felt welcome and safe.

"What's next?" Martin wondered.

Although I knew he was hankering to know about his payment, I chose not to acknowledge him. His betrayal of El Diablo happened too easily, and a man like that couldn't be trusted.

"You no longer work for El Diablo," I said.

"What?" Martin yelled while still managing to whisper. "That wasn't part of the deal."

"Ever heard the saying, 'You can't serve two masters at once?' I need to move on to the next phase of the plan, and I can't have you involved."

"Maybe I should be there. Wouldn't it look suspicious if I suddenly dipped out right before shit hit the fan? I will look guilty as fuck, and if they look closer, I'm the one with diarrhea in my pants, man."

I sighed. My father always told me I had a soft spot, and today was the first time I accepted that little fact about myself. His words echoed in my mind, a reminder of the countless times he chided me for my compassion. Any other Don would have buried Martin six feet under once he was no longer serving a purpose.

But here I was, grappling with a conscience that set me apart, for better or worse.

On the other side of the phone, Martin took my moment of silence to continue talking. "Once I hand you the recipe and I have my cash, I'm retiring. I'm not working for you or any crazy bastards anymore. You promised me retirement, and that's what I'm going to do."

"Don't you have any aspirations, Martin? What would you do if you could work for yourself?"

"I don't know. I just know I want to be on the beach somewhere with a beer in my hand, and maybe, if I'm lucky, a beautiful chick with braids in her hair will be there too."

I imagined a lazy smile spreading across his face and figured he was talking about Jenna, but I didn't get into it with him. I had my marriage to worry about and couldn't care less about Jenna's love life right now.

The juxtaposition of my ambitions and Martin's carefree desires was striking. The office, once a symbol of my father's cold dominance, now held the potential for something more, something I was determined to create.

The sooner I got out of this mess, the sooner I could make that dream a reality. I closed my eyes briefly, remembering what it was like to make love to my wife. To feel her buttery soft skin gliding against mine, her legs pulling me closer to her, allowing me to bury my length deep inside her wetness. I heard her shallow moans in my ear and felt my fingers rolling her nipple, causing her moans to increase in volume.

I would give anything to kiss her again, to taste her arousal on my lips. Anything to fuck her deep and slow until she was panting for breath and begging me to stop. Anything to look into her eyes as she climaxed on my cock, and to feel our liquid heat coating my balls.