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Esme
“MMMMM,” I MOAN AS VITO puts a bite of the omelet in my mouth.
I’m exhausted and sore from the night. Sex has never been on my mind, but with Vito, it seems I’m a bit of a savant because once we started, I never wanted to stop.
By 4 a.m., Vito shut me down, knowing I wanted to go to work this morning, even though he protested that I could afford to take one day off. When I told him how proud my parents were when I got my internship, he softened a bit but made me go to sleep so I would at least have a few hours’ rest before the day started.
“Good girl. Now, drink some juice. You need to replenish your fluids.” He picks up the empty plate and puts it in the small kitchen sink in the pool house.
We took an early morning skinny dip, but I stayed in the shallow end, making sure I was close to the edge, hanging onto Vito the whole time. Afterward, he made me the most amazing feta, spinach, onion and bacon omelet. Since the kitchen in the main house is in the beginning stages of being remodeled, he cooked out here.
And Vito’s pool house is nicer than any home I’ve ever been in.
My hair is still damp from our shower after our swim, where Vito washed and conditioned it like I was a prize beauty queen. I’m wearing one of the new outfits he bought me yesterday. It’s a simple navy-blue wrap dress, but it fits like a glove. He paired it with a pair of nude peep-toe pumps, and I wonder what everyone at work is going to think when I walk in looking like I just knocked off Bloomingdale’s.
Of course, I insisted on adding my red lipstick. Some things will never change.
Vito brings the last bite to my lips and I open like a child and he smiles as I chew.
“I know your secret.” He says as he puts the empty plate in the sink wiping his hands on a red towel.
I put my hand over my mouth before my reply. “My secret?” I’m confused, I don’t live the kind of life that has secrets.
“Yes. You’re secret waffle mix.”
I chuckle and swallow. “Yes, it’s quite dark isn’t it? I’m so sorry you found out before I could explain.”
“Yes, I will forgive you. But I expect to be introduced to this nefarious part of your life very soon.”
I smile and cross my arms. “We will see. Very few have had the privilidge.”
Vito gives me a playful glare. “I’ll be as patient as possible.”
He wipes up the counter then brings his fingers to my face and brushes off some crumbs from the toast.
“Ready?” I nod. “I have some business that can’t be put off today, but I will be meeting you for lunch at one. Hamilton has the address. Keep your phone on so I can check on you.”
“Got it,” I answer, grabbing my sketchbook as we make our way through the house to the front door. I got the sketch pad yesterday when we went shopping so that I could make some plans for how his house—our house—is going to look.
When Vito opens the front door, the limo is there running already with the back door open. His driver, Hamilton, tips his hat toward me.
“I programmed Hamilton’s number into your phone. Call him whenever you need a ride anywhere. Okay?”
“Really? I still think this is a dream.” I laugh, knowing I’ve said that about a thousand times since he picked me up off the street.
“It is. And I never want to wake up.” Vito kisses me soft and warm, his tongue sliding between my lips as I sigh, and that familiar tingle starts between my legs. Then he pulls away, hands on my cheeks. “You have everything?”
“Yes.” I nod, breathing in his masculine scent, a hint of my pussy still on his lips from the quick orgasm he gave me on the counter in the pool house.
“Good girl. Daddy will see you in a few hours. I’ll check on you now and then. Message me whenever you like. Know I’m always with you.” I nod, then he adds, “Oh, and when you get home, you’re going to have your first swimming lesson.”
My eyes go wide, and I start to protest, but he shakes his head and finishes, “It’s for your safety, Bambina. It will be fun. For us both, I assure you. No swimsuits allowed. Now, go on.” He smacks my behind and walks me out the front door.
With that, I’m riding in the back of a limo with a driver, on my way to my unpaid internship at the courthouse, trying to sketch a few decorating ideas on the way but too anxious to really concentrate. I need to see Nadine, and I’m wondering how I’m going to handle the whole incident with the job ‘tip’ she gave me.
Maybe she didn’t know? Maybe she did. Ugh. Either way, it’s uncomfortable at best and a confrontation at the worst.
I mean, I don’t know her well, and she did say it was a friend of a friend that gave her the tip. I shake off the tension and try to focus on the fact that the very unpleasant situation I found myself in ran me right into Vito, who seems like a dream come true...even if I’m still half in doubt that it’s all real.
When I get to my desk and turn on my computer, my task list for the day is a mile long. After I deliver the usual round of coffee to the DAs on my roster and some of the judges, I settle in and start an evidence spreadsheet for a new case, but I can’t keep my mind on work.
It’s Vito. It’s Nadine. But I’m also sort of obsessed with the decorating at his house. In my mind, ideas are swirling around, and every few minutes I sneak out my sketch pad and doodle something or make some notes.
It just feels good.
After an hour, I take a deep breath and decide to find Nadine. I need to get this out of the way so I can at least clear that space in my head about what happened and what she knew.
I walk over to her cube, but it’s empty, and I almost lose my nerve. But when I look around for a pad of Post-its or something to write her a note on, I see Darryl, a paralegal who works with her, and force myself to be brave. With a deep breath, I step to the opening in his workspace and clear my throat, drawing his attention.
“Hi, Darryl. Do you know if Nadine is around?”
He shakes his head. “Haven’t seen her today. I know she’s working on a new file. She’s been spending a lot of time outside the office.” He thinks for a second then shrugs. “I saw on her calendar a note about a meeting at that expensive Italian restaurant over on Wisconsin. Paesano’s.” His fingers click on the keyboard in front of him as he stares at the monitor. My stomach sinks when I look down at her calendar and see the words scribbled on today’s date.
Sal, Paesano’s, 10:00 AM, and the pieces start to fall together. Nadine sent me to that job. She knew.
That’s the same restaurant Vito took me to the other night. Vito said he had a meeting today and we’d meet for lunch at the same restaurant.
“Okay. Thanks.” I force the words out, barely able to stand. My stomach turns over. It can’t be what I’m thinking. I’ll get there, and it will all be completely innocent, and I’ll laugh at myself for being such an idiot.
I grab my phone out of my pocket and bring up Hamilton’s number, then hesitate. What if there’s some connection? All this with Vito went so quickly.
I shake my head. No way Vito could be connected to this Sal.
He’s been so vague about what he really does, but I know his family name. I know he operates on the other side of the law. I’m sure if the DA found out I was involved with him, my internship would be over.
My stomach is in knots as my more practical mind begins to override the lust and Cinderella fantasies I’ve been riding since the other night.
If I call Hamilton, he would surely tell Vito he’s on the way with me, and that would give them a heads-up. Swiping away from Hamilton’s number, I turn back to Darryl and force a smile. “Hey, do you know what cab company is fastest around here?”
I know I shouldn’t leave work, but something inside me demands to know what’s going on. “Sure.” He sniffs then finishes. “Everyone here uses A2B Taxis. Usually there’s one downstairs waiting around, but if you’re in a hurry I’d give them a call, just to make sure.”
“Thanks.” I’ve got the number pulled up on my phone and by the time I’m finished dialing I’m already taking the elevator down to the lobby.
“MISS, CAN I HELP YOU...?” The maître d’ looks serious, but his voice sounds distant as I walk into the restaurant.
I have tunnel vision as my eyes focus like a spotlight just got thrown on and is illuminating a single table with four people seated and one standing. Two women. Three men.
All but one of them I recognize.
And I cannot believe what I’m seeing.
This is a million times worse than what I imagined. A bazillion times worse. How could I be taken in so easily? Was this just an elaborate setup? How would they have known where I’d run that night? How would Vito have put himself in a position to ‘save’ me?
I swallow hard, trying to keep from being sick.
Nadine is one of the two women at the table. And from what I’m seeing, she’s fully involved in whatever it is that they’re doing. To her right is a woman I don’t recognize. She’s pretty and very young. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s barely able to legally drink the glass of wine in her hand. She’s laughing and smiling and leaning in close to Salvatore.
I’m suddenly freezing cold, and there’s a buzzing in my ears. Standing off to his right, I see the man from the pool at Vito’s. And then there’s the last person at the table.
Vito.
Nadine leans in, talking to Salvatore, and from what I see, they all seem pretty damn friendly.
“Miss, do you have a reservation? If you’re not eating, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
I turn and stare at the waiter, who looks embarrassed to be confronting me. Then I see a flash of recognition in his eyes and his manner softens. He’s the same waiter that tended to our table all night last night.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was you, miss. Nobody told me you would be coming. Please, can I get you anything while you wait? Would you like me to tell Mr. Vitaglia that you’ve arrived?”
I shake my head. “No. Please. Don’t tell anyone that I’m here.”
The waiter glances over at the table, then back at me as I take a step back behind the corner of the wall out of sight of the others. “Mr. Vitaglia might not be happy if I don’t tell him you’re here...”
“Please...” It’s clear that appealing to his compassion isn’t going to work, so I change tactics. “I want to freshen up before he knows I’m here.” Forcing a smile onto my face feels like the most difficult thing I’ve ever done, but it works.
“Okay... Of course. The bathroom is—”
“I know. Thank you.” With my heart pounding, I flee in the direction of the bathroom, feeling queasy, and my head doesn’t feel attached to my shoulders.
Inside, I run for the nearest stall and lock the door behind me, sitting on top of the seat and burying my face in my hands. Desperate for help, I take out my phone and dial my mom’s number. Sometimes you just need your mom, but there’s no answer.
I have no idea what I’m going to do. I’m trapped here in the bathroom, and if I don’t come out in the next ten minutes, that waiter is going to tell Vito I’m here for sure. The dress I’m wearing, the shoes, they’re Vito’s. He bought and paid for me, just like Salvatore planned to do. I’m being groomed.
Then I hear the squeal of the bathroom door hinge and soft giggling, then voices.
“So, you and Sal, huh? The job turned into something more.” Nadine’s voice hints at pride. “You owe me, you know?”
The other woman answers. “I know. I was scared at first, but turns out escorting isn’t so bad. The money is great, and now that Sal and I are together, who knows. Maybe he’ll retire me, and I’ll be a kept woman.”
Nadine chuckles. “I wouldn’t mind being Vito’s kept woman. Fuck, he’s hot. If things go the way I want, he won’t be leaving here alone. I’m hoping I can at least offer him a little taste. Maybe get on my hands and knees under the table for a little pre-show.” They both giggle some more, then the first woman’s voice comes through again.
“Honestly, I’m happier with Salvatore. He’s talked about Vito. Says he has no soul—a sociopath sort of. Sal says you brought him a girl from work. That was ballsy, an intern for the DA...you didn’t think she would go running back and blow things up for you? The five grand you get for each recruit wouldn’t pay for your attorney fees.”
“Sal would pay. Besides, she’s like a scared little mouse. The DA would believe me. I’d just say I had no idea what she was talking about and why was she meeting with a known crime boss at his place of business at night. I’d spin it just fine. It’s what I do.”
My throat is closing. It feels like there’s a black hole where my heart should be sucking all the light out of me.
All I can think to do is run. I pull the door open, slamming it into the stall wall, putting my head down in a sprint for the exit. Adding insult to injury, I twist my ankle, falling into the wall on the ridiculous high heels just this morning I thought were so glamorous.
With a sharp pain in my ankle, I push through the door and out into the restaurant. The waiter sees me and steps my way, his arm outstretched, ready to usher me to the table, but I push past toward the nearest door, which turns out to be the kitchen.
Everything seems to be spinning as I stumble, nearly falling flat on my face as a heel breaks. I kick the shoe off, then the other, and dart for the back door, tumbling out into the restaurant parking lot struggling to breathe.
I dart my eyes around, trying to figure out what to do, then hear my phone ringing in my brand-new Gucci handbag—another “gift” from Vito. When I fish it out, I see my mom’s number, and despite the fact that I want to run away and never look back, I try to calm myself because I need a friendly voice right now.
“Hi, Mom.” My racing heart thunders in my ears as I press myself against the back wall of the restaurant and slide over toward the street.
Only my mom is crying.
“Esme, it’s all gone. There’s no money left, and I now have a final foreclosure notice on the house. I’m so sorry, baby, we tried.” Her voice cracks, and it’s hard to make out what’s she’s saying. “I have a week to come up with the house payments and late charges. If not, the sheriff will come and remove me and our belongings. Your father doesn’t know, it would kill him. He was thinking he was coming home soon.”
“Mom, calm down, we’ll figure it out.” For a moment, my problems seem less important. I knew things weren’t good; I knew they had debts, but not this. Not losing the house in a week. “You should have told me sooner,” I say, fighting back tears. “But it’s just money. We’ll figure it out.”
“Oh, Esme, I’m sorry, I saw you called, and I just got the final notice...I think I was just pretending it wouldn’t happen. There would be some miracle. You say it’s going to be all right, but it’s not. I don’t have this kind of money.”
“How much do you need to save the house?”
“Too much.” She chokes out a laugh, and I can hear that it’s mixed with a sob.
“How much?”
“To save the house, we need to buy it back from the county at this point. It’s gone into foreclosure sale. We had four months to buy it back, but time is up. It’s two hundred and eighty thousand dollars. That’s the minimum payment. With all the medical debt and other past-due bills, I don’t know. It’s probably around seven hundred thousand by now. With no insurance, it could be a million by the end of the year. We are in a hole we can’t crawl out of, and it just keeps getting deeper. Besides that, now that there’s no insurance money, they are going to move your father out to a Medicaid-run home. He won’t get any of the therapy, he’ll just sit there. He’ll never get better.”
“We’ll figure it out, Mom. Please, don’t cry.”
“It’s so much money, there’s no way. I’m going to claim bankruptcy, but it’s too late to save the house.”
“Just...don’t worry about that. Mom, I have to go. I’ll call you back. Just don’t give up.”
“I love you, baby. I’m so sorry.”
“I love you, too, Mom.”
I end the call, and my heart is in my throat. I’m an unpaid intern living on the savings from a waitressing job. How can I possibly find that kind of money?
I choke back the tears, trying to focus on what I need to do right now—which is to get as far away from Vito Vitaglia as possible.
As I start dialing the number for A2B Taxis, I look over and notice a guy sitting in an open-top sports car just at the corner of the restaurant parking lot where I’m standing, staring at me.
When he climbs out and starts to wander my way, I figure he’s going to ask me for a light or why I’m standing behind the restaurant with no shoes on, but instead, he meets my eyes and pulls his lips to one side looking concerned.
“You okay?” he starts as I swipe away the tears running down my cheeks. Before I can answer, he adds, “Hey, I know you.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
He smiles, and it’s genuine when I expect it to be creepy. “Yes, I do, but you don’t know me. You’re Esme.” He sticks out his hand. “I’m Malcolm Fideri. I work with Vito. I saw a photo of you on Vito’s phone, but it’s good to meet you in the flesh. Hey, I’m so sorry, but I overheard you talking—”
“Leave me the fuck alone!” I scream as I step back, throwing my arms up between us like they’re some sort of force field. My mind is spinning.
“Hey. I’m not going to—”
“You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. Just get back, or I swear to God...”
He throws his arms up. “Okay, okay, this is me stepping back. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m trying to help. I can help you. Vito can help you.”
“I don’t want your help.” I turn and glance down the road. There’s a cab, and I stick my arm out, but it drives right past. “Damn it.” Turning back to the parking lot, I see Malcolm disappearing inside the back door of the restaurant, and I know where he’s going. I need to get out of here.
Running in my bare feet isn’t much better than running in the heels.
I just have to hope a cab comes along before it’s too late.