CONSIGLIERE #Wattys2015

Chapters 1, 2, and 3

I

            "I think the room is bugged."

            The woman sat directly across from a lanky, broad man, a man who was barely perceivable in the darkness of the small office. He wore a suit on this particular afternoon, as he often did, regardless of the weather or day. The woman focused on the creases in his suit jacket, dimly cognizable through the slits of light escaping from the blinds. The suited man leaned forward slowly, and spoke in a thick Italian accent, "There are no secrets in this room, Agnese. I have nothing to hide from my accomplices."

            "Why should I believe such a foolish thing? Of course you keep things from me."

            "Agnese." The man cleared phlegm from this throat, clenching his hands with anticipation. "I have given you a simple task. Respect my privacy as the consigliere of this family, and do not waste my time again unless you have a rightful purpose. I will give you one more chance to complete this-"

            "I can't do it, Mr. Martolli," interrupted Agnese.

            The man stood vigorously, reaching into his coat pocket for his Colt revolver. Agnese let out a cry upon feeling the man's firm hand wrap around her neck, pressing the gun swiftly against her ear.

            "I've waited six years for this, and you'll do as I say, Aggie," murmured the man to Agnese. "Don't even think about coming back here again until that man is dead."

            Agnese's throat felt thick with terror. "But...Mr. Martolli...I...I just can't kill him!"

            A sly smile crawled onto the man's face as he twisted the cool barrel across Agnese's cheek. "What did you say, you little bitch?"

            Sweat dripped down the back of Agnese's neck. "I'll make sure he's dead," she whispered after a period of tense silence.

            Mr. Martolli slowly released his grip on the shaking woman, lowering her to the floor and freeing her neck. "And don't come back until you do, grazie."

            II

            "Anardana? Is that, like, a plant?"

            Val Arlotti glanced up promptly from the tomato he was slicing, raising his eyebrows at an apparently perplexed Shelton, who was now shuffling clumsily through Val's disorganized cabinet. "It's a spice, smartass. And it's literally right in front of you."

            Shelton Wallace snickered and tossed the small jar to Val. "Oh, please. Not all of us can be incredible Sicilian cuisiners like you, Val."

            Val dropped his head and resumed chopping tomatos. "Then stop testing me with all your physics trivia. Not everyone can be as intelligent as you, Shelt."

            Amelia Arlotti strolled into the kitchen at that instance, wrapping her arms around her husband's slender waist. "Don't let him get to you, Val. You're a wonderful Sicilian cuisiner and a great scientific mind."

            "He can't tell you how many centimeters the moon moves away from the Earth each year," grinned Shelton as he examined the label on the small jar of anardana. "What are you going to put this stuff on, anyway?"

            "It's to marinate the meat," mumbled Val as he kissed Amelia's cheek and skimmed through an overflowing binder of recipes. "And by the way, that was astronomy trivia, not physics."

            "Well, still! Do you get my point?" Shelton ducked his head into the living room, where Val's teenage son sat devouring a video game. "Hey, kid! Who's smarter, me or your pops?"

            Amelia Arlotti propped herself on top of the counter, throwing her long, brown hair into a loose pony tail. "So, what exactly are you two cooking for, again?"

            "The Rotary Club Celebration Dinner," Val and Shelton muttered in unenthusiatic unison. "Courtesy of the wonderful Dale Erikson," Shelton added sarcastically.

            Amelia smiled and hopped off the marble countertop. "A principal like him must be grateful to have teachers like you two. Think of this as...an honor."

            "I have damn softball to coach tomorrow," sighed Shelton as he joined Val chopping produce. "I don't have time for Dale's little invitations."

            "As I've previously stated, think of this as an honor!" Amelia called to Shelton and Val as she strolled casually out of the kitchen.

            Silence settled gently upon the two men as they prompty chopped fresh produce. Upon accidently piercing his finger and cussing under his breath, Val rushed to the sink and allowed a cool flow of gushing water to soothe his open wound. "You must be exhausted," Shelton remarked with raised eyebrows. "I don't think I've ever seen you injure yourself while cooking."

            "I need sleep and a cup of coffee," replied a grimacing Val.

            "No, you need sex," Shelton spoke earnestly, discreetly nodding his head in Amelia's direction. "As far as I can tell, you guys only screw around once, maybe twice a year."

            Val rolled his eyes in Shelton's direction before drying his hands on a nearby dish towel and moseying out of the kitchen. A smirking Shelton followed, calling to Kevin as he went, "Come on, Kev! We're hanging at my place tonight."

            III

            Val stood under the silver shower faucet, steam rising to the ceiling of the bathroom and initiating the paint on the walls to drip.

"Val!" Amelia yelled from the adjacent bedroom. "You better not be ruining my walls."

Opening the bathroom door, Val strolled into the bedroom with a towel swung over his shoulder, whistling as he did so. "We get the house to ourselves for the first time in months, and you're worried about the walls?"

"Just come here, Val."

She draped her arms around Val's bare, damp neck, resting her head on his bristly chest. Val rubbed his hands into the smalls of Amelia's shoulders and kissed her throat, her spine tingling slightly.

Following a short period of silence, the abrupt, blaring ring of the telephone rang out throughout the house. Val swore and groaned, reaching for the phone unhurriedly.

"Hello?"

"Oh, Val? Um, it's Agnese. Sorry to call you so late. I've...uh, got a question about Dale's dinner party. Are you still considering going? And am I expected to bring a dish?"

Val glanced over at Amelia, who rubbed her eyes and pulled the blanket up to her shoulders.

Val slumped back against the bed frame, closing his eyes. "Shelt and I made lasagna. So yes, unfortunately I've been roped into it."

"I'm only stopping by for the last hour or so. I'm afraid I have other obligations."

"Well, lucky you. Shelt's supposed to be coaching softball tomorrow."

"That man's always up to something, isnt he?"

"He's a busy man," Val mumbled, adding under his breath, "like me. Look, I've got to go for tonight. See you tomorrow, Agnese."

"Until then, Val. Thanks for answering my question."

Val put down the phone slowly and turned his attention to his wife. Amelia was snoring.