His Mafia Queen

Friends Without Benefits

She slides the sunglasses off while sighing. "Yes. I've heard and read about everything that happened recently. Did you get sick before or after the shooting in the restaurant?"

I'm momentarily taken aback by her direct, bold acknowledgement of the mass shooting. Then again, she's the daughter of a mafia boss, so perhaps this kind of thing is old hat. I give her a brief recap of the events, starting when I went to the restaurant to write an article, and ending in the hospital, in pain. Of course, I gloss over the part where Gabriel showed up at my apartment, pissed.

Her smile fades and she listens intently. It's as if she genuinely cares about my story, something I highly doubt. And yet, it feels good to have someone to confide in, someone who is familiar with this lifestyle. It's not like I can tell anyone at work about any of this. It suddenly hits me how alone I really am — I haven't had a true female bestie since Lorna died.

These days, Gabriel's my only real friend.

"That's a lot, Riley. You covered a mass shooting and you were admitted to the hospital, all in one night." She shakes her head. "You need to take it easy and not burn yourself out."

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. "What are my alternatives? I need to work."

She licks her scarlet lips. "Do you, though? Gabriel would take care of you."

I gape at her. "No. No way. I couldn't let a man take care of me."

"Well," she sighs, "I understand that. And I wouldn't want that, either."

"Really?" I say, a bit too pointedly.

She shakes her head. "I've had plenty of opportunities like that but have turned them down."

Now we're getting somewhere. "Why?"

I assume it's because she's been saving herself for Gabriel. Will she come clean and tell me this?

Her shoulders lift into a shrug and she slides her glasses back over her eyes. "I don't want to be controlled. In any way."

We both sit back and allow silence to fill the air. It almost feels like a stalemate, and I refuse to be the first to talk. My gaze skims over the turquoise blue water of the pool and the bright green tropical foliage planted along the property's boundary.

"This backyard. I have such memories here," Catherine says softly.

A pang of awareness shoots through me. So this is why she's come over. To mark her territory. To proclaim herself superior because she's known Gabriel longer.

"Oh, really?" I ask, trying to play dumb.

"We were about seven, and his grandfather put a trampoline right there." She gestures to an area that's taken up by an outdoor hot tub. "We used that a lot, then we'd have races across the lawn and inevitably crash into each other and tumble onto the grass."

She pauses and looks around the backyard again, her eyes lingering on the pool deck.

"My father, and Gabriel's father, and our grandfathers would meet here. They'd bring us along because they knew we wanted to play together. We were out here, being innocent children, while the adults were inside, or sitting over there on the terrace, doing, well, you know what they were doing."

She shoots me a pointed look, and a chill goes through me.

Mafia stuff. The adults were doing mafia stuff.

Catherine laughs, almost to herself. "We'd let off firecrackers by the pool at night. I remember lying on my back in a raft in the water, watching fireworks illuminate the sky above us with dazzling colors." She turns to me with an impish smile. "Sometimes I'd pretend to be a mermaid swimming among underwater creatures like sea horses and dolphins. Gabriel would never be a mer-man, he always wanted to be a shark."

How appropriate. "I see. You two have a long history together."

I'm trying to don my reporter's objectivity, attempting to be detached. Although inside my chest, my heart's slamming against my rib cage out of sheer jealousy. I've never felt this way before, and while I want Catherine to stop strolling down memory lane, I also am dying to know about Gabriel when he was young.

"We do." She sits straighter and nods, and it's as if she's not speaking to me at all. "Although, it wasn't all fun." She swallows as she gazes toward the pool house under a canopy of trees bearing sweet-smelling citrus blossoms. "Once I turned fourteen, I spent many afternoons fending off the attention of older mobsters who stopped by for dinner parties or just drinks on the patio outside."

"Oh." It's a stupid response, but I don't know what else to say. "Where was Gabriel?"

"By then? In with the men. That's where they wanted him, so he could learn the business."

"You weren't invited?"

She snorts and turns her head in my direction. "Hell no. My role was to play like a kid with the trampoline and my dolls, then instantly become a woman and be subservient to the men. I stopped coming here when I was fifteen. This is the first time I've been back since."

I file this information away into the recesses of my brain. It's still difficult to determine her motives for returning to Gabriel's orbit, but my curiosity has gotten the better of me.

"What was he like? Gabriel, I mean. When he was younger? His interactions with the mobsters?"

Catherine sighs and stares at the turquoise blue water, as if it holds all the secrets of the past. "Once he became a teenager, he was finished with our childhood games. He was nothing but a gentleman to me, of course, and always listened to my problems. That never changed. But Gabriel took to studying the tactics of the men, and trying to emulate their lifestyle. He'd sit by his father's side during meetings, observing how he'd conduct business and how he would talk."

She hesitates before continuing, her gaze softening with a dreamy look of memory. "And... sometimes when there wasn't much for him to observe or learn from, I'd find him alone by the edge of this pool just staring out in silence as if something deep within himself had been stirred up."

She shook her head slightly before continuing with an amused smile. "It was nice seeing him free...but I knew it wouldn't last for very long given our circumstances."

I realize that I'm barely breathing as I listen to her story. I have a million questions but I can't decide on any one, not now. Silence fills the air, and I'm acutely aware of how much noise is coming from the wild parrots in the trees.

Finally, she asks, "Are you okay with all of this?" Catherine doesn't look at me.

I blink, wondering what she's talking about. If she's being cryptic on purpose. "All of what?"

She tugs on her earlobe. "All of..." She clears her throat. "All of Gabriel's involvements. His lifestyle. Him."

Her emphasis is on the final word, and for some reason, that annoys me. Well, that and this entire unannounced visit. Maybe she's trying to intimidate me. I swing my legs to the side, so I'm facing her. "Catherine, I need to ask you a question."

"Of course." She takes off her sunglasses and sets them on the table in between our two lounge chairs. Her dark eyes widen.

I pause. Should I ask her everything that's in my mind, or is that too rude? Why are you here seems almost mean. Accusatory. But she's the one trotting out the memories of her childhood with Gabriel, so fuck it. I'm going for it. What's the point of this conversation?

What does she want?

"Why..." I'm poised to ask my question, but then I see Gabriel emerging from the house, a deep scowl on his beautiful face.