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“Ms. Serafina, Mr. Hamilton wants you in his office.”
Chrissy put her hand over her phone, as if that would keep her mother from hearing the conversation.
“Sure, Jessica. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Jessica, her assistant, nodded and shut the door as she left.
“Look, Mom, I’ve got to go.”
“But Christina, you’re coming to the house tomorrow night, right?”
“Mom, I told you I have to work.”
“That man has you work on Sunday, too? Christina Maria Serafina, I know better than that. Take five minutes from your busy schedule to show up at your grandfather’s birthday party.”
Crap. The last thing Chrissy wanted was to be in a room with the entire Serafina clan. She loved her family, at least her immediate family. But the day she learned that being a Serafina meant being part of organized crime, she swore she’d never live that life.
But she couldn’t show disrespect by not showing up, so she had to make an appearance.
“Fine, Mom. I’ll be there.” She gathered her leather pad-folio from her desk in case she had to take notes. As she passed the mirror she kept on the back of her office door, she checked her hair. Her blonde locks fell on her shoulder and she swept them back. Her dark blue Anne Klein jacket covered a simple pale yellow silk tank. A teardrop pearl pendant hung from a gold chain around her neck. She double- checked the lines of her pencil skirt, making sure nothing bunched. Satisfied she was presentable, she walked the hall to her boss’ office.
Richard Hamilton was exactly the sort of man that Chrissy wanted to marry. Handsome, educated, and didn’t mind working hard to make a good living. She figured he came from middle-class roots, judging from the different trophies he displayed in his office. High school was a watershed time for Hamilton, where he obviously played both football and baseball, not the upper-class sports like lacrosse or soccer.
But Richard had a fiancée, damn him. The best Chrissy could hope for was that she’d get invited to one of his frequent weekend barbecues or swim parties to meet his unmarried friends.
His assistant, Chloe, wasn’t at her desk, but it was Saturday. The obscenely thin hussy made it perfectly clear she never worked on weekends. It was up to Chrissy to knock on his door.
“Come in.”
“You wanted to see me?”
“Christina, yes. Please sit.”
Chrissy took one of the two leather chairs that sat before his desk and waited while he inspected papers on his desk. He picked up his pad and swiped through several pages. “I see what you did here,” he said with a frown.
“Is there something wrong?”
“No. It’s just I never considered that a company blog would be this effective in promoting our products. But you’ve put a real spin on all of them, making them seem...sexy, for lack of a better word.”
Chrissy was proud of what she accomplished online. Her posts went from nothing to ranked on the first page of many searches for 3D printing products. Richard had no idea what kind of work it took to make that happen. He was old-school in his marketing techniques. That’s why the president of the company hired her as Marketing Director and Richard as the Vice President of Sales.
Chrissy gave him an enthusiastic smile. “Three-dimensional printing is the business of the future, Richard. I guess I just got excited about what we offer.”
“Still, I want to see ad buys in trade journals.”
Chrissy opened her mouth then closed it again. While intelligent, Richard was stubborn. She disagreed. She had hoped to spend the advertising dollars on social media ads. “I can do that, though I suggest we put money in Facepage ads.”
“Facepage?”
“It’s through Facebook.” When he nodded, she continued, “You can set parameters for whatever audience you want. They have very sophisticated algorithms to help you zero in on the demographics you’re trying to reach. And they’re relatively inexpensive.” Chrissy just made a strategic mistake. She lost Richard at the word ‘algorithm.’ And then she used the word ‘inexpensive,’ which her boss translated into cheap. To Richard, the more expensive a thing was, the more value it had.
“I prefer we concentrate on the trade journals for now.”
“Of course, Richard. I’ll get right on that Monday.”
“No. You worked today. Take Monday off.”
“But—”
“No buts. You’ve done more than enough work and deserve the day. So, take it. I’m not likely to be this generous again.”
“I’m grateful, but speechless.”
“Say thank you and good night. Go home. I’ll see you Tuesday.”
Her assistant, Jessica, was excited to hear of the extra day off. “Can I take Monday, too?”
“Can you come in and cover the phones? You can take Tuesday then.”
“Make it next Friday, and you have a deal.”
That was no problem. Friday shook down as quiet days in the office.
“Sounds good. See you Tuesday.”
Jessica waved goodbye and left, while Christina made sure she had everything she needed before clicking off her desktop computer.
She hefted her large tan leather bag that held her laptop over her shoulder and stepped through the marble-lined lobby to the chilly New York streets. It was late afternoon, and the sun sank in the sky. She shivered on her way to the train station. She loved working in New York City, but couldn’t afford the rent. Connecticut apartments were way cheaper. She used the commute to get work done so she could spend the mornings in the office making phone calls.
But she had two days off in a row. This was unusual for the hectic schedule pushed on her at the start of this job. Christina didn’t know what to do with herself. It would be late before she arrived at the West Haven commuter station where her car waited. A hot bath and bed sounded good.
Her phone rang as she settled in her train seat. It was her sister, Gloria, who she shared an apartment with. “Yeah?”
“Gee, that’s a grumpy hello.” Gloria actually sounded offended.
“Sorry.” A smidge of guilt circulated through Christina.
“You on your way?”
“Just got on the train.”
“So, you’ll be home in an hour?”
“As long as this beast doesn’t run off the rails in screaming death.” Mentally, Christina could see her sister, who pretended she was happy with her city job, roll her eyes. Christina was pretty sure Gloria wished she had the same commute, along with the job.
“Want to go out?”
“Naw. I want to sleep.”
“Right. Because you’re young and have so much of your life to live.”
“Why aren’t you going out with Marcus?”
“He’s got business to do. I’ll meet him later.”
Reminded of her family’s main source of income, Chrissy restrained a groan. Gloria’s long-term boyfriend, Marcus, was full into the Serafina family business. While Chrissy didn’t like him, she understood the appeal of the tall, dark-haired Marcus, who had more looks than smarts. Serafina women didn’t necessarily need their men to be smarter than them, just street savvy enough to keep themselves out of trouble. Marcus had that, but his dark, drop-dead gorgeous looks sealed the deal for her younger sister.
“I’m hanging up now.”
“I know something you don’t.” Gloria’s taunting inflection was like nails on a chalkboard to her.
“What?”
“I’m hanging up now,” Gloria mimicked. Then the line went dead.
Damn her; she knows I hate when she does that. Christina huffed and tried to ignore the sibling rivalry the rest of the commute. When she arrived home she found her sister had deserted her, leaving Chrissy’s questions unanswered. Gloria deserved the full treatment tomorrow, no matter how hungover she was, or what time she rolled into the apartment. Christina grinned. Sibling rivalry, my ass.
But after a glass of wine eased her into oblivious sleep, when she woke the next morning Chrissy barely remembered what had vexed her the previous night. Nor did Gloria show up during the day, which annoyed Chrissy. They’d mutually agreed that Sunday morning was cleaning day, and Gloria didn’t show up to do her share. So, it took Chrissy the better part of Sunday dusting, vacuuming, and scrubbing their two- bedroom domicile. When she looked up at the clock, she cursed. She barely had an hour to dress and drive to her grandfather’s birthday party.
When she arrived at the Serafina homestead, a massive orange and yellow brick manse with a huge fence topped with spiky white ironwork, Chrissy was breathless. She drove too fast through the streets of West Haven to arrive on time, and barely dodged a speed trap by the good fortune of someone else’s misfortune. Just the thought of being pulled over by police was enough to make her heart race. The last thing she needed was ticket viewed as a “problem” handled by family connections.
She entered the residence, the family history of the past century and a half gathered there. The house was nearly that old, built by Gandolfo Serafina after he established himself in the New World. He made enough money to afford the materials. The labor came at the expense of men who owed him favors and dared not refuse the request of the emerging Dom. He was especially adept at collecting favors.
Chrissy crossed the marble-lined atrium, graced with twin curving staircases, and waved to some of the guests crowded in the great room that spread through half of the first floor. To avoid the vapid conversations about ‘what she was doing with her life,’ she crossed into the long dining room. A long mahogany table graced the center of the room, stretching the length of it. She entered the kitchen.
There she found her mother, directing a gaggle of aunts and female cousins in putting out the upcoming feast. She kissed her mother on the cheek as her mother waved her troops towards the dining room to place the food on the table. A custom-cut glass protected the precious lace tablecloth handmade by some distant Serafina ancestor. This last only graced the table only on special occasions.
“Christina,” said her mother primly, “so nice of you to show.”
“And you’ve been up before the chickens, cooking. No wonder you’re cranky.”
“You should’ve been here to help.”
“I would have,” said Chrissy, casting an eye toward Gloria, “but someone didn’t come home last night to help clean the apartment.”
Gloria, standing behind their mother, stuck her tongue out at Chrissy, which brought a smile to Chrissy’s lips. One point to big sister.
“Well,” her mother said, “Gloria has every right to spend time with her fiancé.”
“Fiancé?” said Chrissy with surprise. “When did this happen?”
“Mom,” protested Gloria. “I don’t have a ring yet.” Her face flushed with mortification at their mother’s remark.
“No, but you two have been talking, haven’t you? No, no, Marla,” said her mother to a cousin, “put the bread in that basket there, yes.”
Chrissy watched the exchange between her mother and sister with rapt interest. This was a shift, and a huge one. Marcus had held out against marriage, hoping to leverage his relationship with the Dom’s granddaughter as a career move. Everyone knew that, except Gloria, who was over-the-moon in love with the lug. Marcus must be ready to make a move up in the organization. And that was interesting. Pandolfo Serafina never acted warmly toward Marcus, precisely because the man mixed his professional ambitions with his private ones. What had changed?
“Come,” said her mother. “Grandpa Pandolfo’s been waiting for you.”
