Dinner With The Mafia. Armando Lazzari

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      The Observers, Valerio Esposito and Willy Whoosh had to endure the latest scolding from their Boss, while they cursed themselves for keeping Susan's aspirations of becoming a lawyer under wraps.

      “Why did I have to find out from her at the interview? What the hell do I pay you for? Well, it's too late now. I've already promised Ben and I can't go back on my word. I want to know everything about her: where she hangs out, where she goes shopping, who she meets and what she eats. Start with her family and relatives and leave no stone unturned! And don't forget, keep an eye on her at all times! I don't want any surprises. One last thing, did Pablo Ruido give you any trouble?”

      “He whined a little at first, until he saw his payout,” said Willy, a bit smugly. “If you want my opinion, you were too generous with that Mexican…”

      Carmine stared hard into Willy's eyes with a look that would have scared a ferocious pit bull. “I don't pay you to hear your opinion, least of all to shoot your mouth off. That man was faithful to me for many years. I never forget loyalty. That's the only way to earn respect. Now go, and leave me alone with Esposito before I make note of my generosity when it's your turn to leave us.”

      Willy turned white as a sheet and lowered his head in submission. He bit his lips in an attempt to hold back anymore useless words and left.

      Even though they were alone, Esposito waited for a signal from his boss before speaking. They both lifted a finger as their “starter” cue.

      “I already mentioned to Joe…,” began Esposito, then held up his hand to correct himself. For years, it was held in the highest consideration by the entire family that when one of them were alone with Joe Santini, they could call him Joe, but in the company of other people, he should be referred to by his title.

      Esposito continued, “…to the Boss, that the girl has had a certain impact on your nephew. I believe that it would be a good idea to direct his attention toward other women before it becomes a more complicated problem.”

      Carmine let out a big sigh. Why did life have to feel like he was constantly putting out fires? As soon as he fixed one problem, another one popped up. “The girl… Susan, is very pretty. We would need to find another that measures up, that would catch his interest. Though I doubt he would be interested in anyone else as long as he's got it in his head that Susan's the one. Just like his father… God rest his soul.”

      “In my opinion, two big tits and a nice ass work miracles on a man. I've got one chick in mind that could resurrect the dead. Her name is Lola. She's from the Meat Packing District. She is number one on Gansevoort Street!” said Esposito.

      “A prostitute…” Carmine was reluctant. It wasn't a question of morals; he was first in line when he had the time and longing. But it was different for his nephew. Ben was young and handsome, and certainly didn't need a hooker.

      The entire family agreed that Esposito's best quality was his ability to tune into the person to whom he was speaking, deducing even the smallest phrases and reading the slightest facial movements, already knowing what they were thinking and what they were going to say.

      “With all due respect, sir, I doubt that a woman like Lola would be easy to win over, even for an attractive boy like your nephew. The fact that she is a professional would make everything easier for all of us. Give your nephew a few nights of passion with Lola, and Susan will be sweet history. This way, getting rid of her will be painless.”

      Esposito's argument was pretty convincing.

      “Let's give it a try. Make contact with this Lola and take her to a boutique and get her a nice wardrobe. I don't want her looking like a hooker. Explain the situation to her, then we'll invite her to dinner. We'll find a way to leave the two of them alone together.”

      “It would be ideal if we invented a good story that Lola could act out during the evening. Something moving that touches the heart.”

      Carmine decided to entrust the creative mind of Esposito. ”Why not… any ideas?”

      “Well, for starters, she could play the part of an elementary school teacher.”

      Esposito recalled with pleasure one of their evenings. To satisfy one of his fantasies, he had her interpret the role of a school teacher: a blonde babe wearing glasses, a tiny low-cut white blouse and a short plaid skirt.

      “She's from Ukrain, so we can give her a tormented past; she was a young orphan and had to go out in the street in the snow to sell matchsticks.”

      “Matchsticks? Isn't that a children's fairy tale? Esposito, are you firing on all cylinders? No, here's what we're gonna do. An orphan is good, but she was adopted and her foster father was violent. He beat and abused her. When she turned eighteen, she ran away from home, finding odd jobs that allowed her to study at night school and became the woman she is today. What do you think?”

      Esposito was almost crying. “I think that's the most touching story that I've ever heard, Boss. My compliments. You have an incredible imagination.”

      “What imagination? It's the story of a soap opera that my wife used to watch, may she rest in peace.”

      “Anyway, we need to come up with an explanation for Ben as to why she'll be at dinner at our house,” said Carmine.

      “Lola can just show up at dinnertime as a volunteer for some orphanage, asking for a donation that we had promised to give to charity for the poor orphans. Then she can pretend to have forgotten the right day. At that point, we can invite her to join us for dinner,” said Esposito.

      The idea was full-proof and could work.

      “You know something? You're a really good liar. I hope your wife is the only one who needs to be careful.”

      Carmine grabbed the phone and got Joe Santini's number. “Joe? Hey, it's Carmine. I just want your opinion on a deal regarding Ben… no, don't worry, he's not in any trouble. Actually, I think we might have a solution for our problem…”

      In other circumstances, he would have sent Esposito over to explain, but on this occasion, he wanted to tell him himself. Joe agreed with the plan and gave him carte blanche to go ahead.

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