Mind Over Matter

Trust and Tiffanys //7

It'd been 2 days since I last saw or heard from Frankie. Instead, some sweaty, 40 year old guy, in a suit far too small had literally been watching me. Frankie was my ''watcher'' but he didn't literally watch me like this guy did, I don't think he blinked. Maybe he didn't know how too? My conversation attempts had failed too, my Italian wasn't great but this man tilted his head at me, like a puppy, everytime I tried to speak in Italian. Rude.

On the plus side, I'd been given a few copies of US weekly and some other Italian magazines, inevitably the excitement ended and I went back to reading the books in the library. My Italian, I think, had been vastly improved as the only books I hadn't read were in italian.

It was a Friday, early afternoon and I was reading ''Zeno's Conscience'' and understanding some of it. The mahogany door opened and in strolled Frankie, his hands in his pockets, and his Italian leather shoes tapping the floor as he walked. Frankie stopped by the couch and smiled at me, I stood up and brushed the dust off of his suit. He hugged me, tightly, and I hugged him back. Still unsure if he was trustworthy I only lightly hugged him back, the scent of Bleu De Chanel, his signature cologne, filled the air. We sat down on the awful, green sofa and Frankie's smile continued to beam.

''I am so sorry I haven't seen you, I've just had some buisness to do'' He apologised.

''Oh wow, buisness, sounds so important'' I teased.

Frankie made me go over the plan until I could say it 25 different languages, backwards and in my sleep. He'd definetley worked on it more than the last conversation we'd had; the once small plan had now turned into an set of extremely long instructions. The plan was stuck in my head like a song, and I was terrified to mess it up. One fatal flaw or mistake, could result in death.

Instantly, phase one of the plan was in action; gain their trust. Very easy to do, but also very easy to fuck up.

I hugged Frankie and walked downstairs to the kitchen where I was met with some harsh and unwelcoming looks. Smiling, I walked over to the counter and made an Coretto to earn him my trust. Hurrying upstairs, I nearly spilled the coffee, until I came a cross a big door, with perfectly polished silver handles. Just as Frankie had described. Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door and a deep voice greeted me in. The office of the Capo dei Capi was filled with mahogany furniture, much like the rest of the house, I tottled over and placed the cup on his desk. He looked up at me with confusion, before looking across his desk into the cup and flashing me a smile.

''And this is?'' He asked sternly.

''It's a Cor-'' I smiled before he rudely interrupted by raising his hand.

''I know what the drink is, but I mean, what is this'' He emphasised the ''This'' sending a tiny drop of spit onto my jeans.

''I'm was just trying to be kind and helpful, is there anything else I can do to be helpful?'' Continuing to smile at him whilst he stared blankly back at me. His eyes began to squint and he opened one of the desk drawers and pulled out a small piece of ivory paper.

The Capo stood up and walked towards me, and I, still holding my smile, stood there like a lemon. He handed me the note and instructed me to take it to Giorgio in the courtyard. I agreed and again smiled before leaving the room and making my way to the courtyard.

I'd never been to the courtyard, I'd been through it and past it bt never stopped long enough to take a look at it. For a room, it ws oddly placed; in the centre of the house. It was large with a brick floor and no roof, but that was all I had observed.

Stepping out into the courtyard, I saw around 10 men all gathered rounding, smokig and chatting away; like an Italian mothers meeting. The minute my foot touched the brick floor everyones eyes were upon me, I tried to build up the courage inside to say this man's name but it just wasn't there.