CHAPTER 16
Benito
“Look, Ben, I don't know what you're thinking is going on here, but... it ain't like that.”
I stared coldly at Tino as he walked into the study.
“It ain't like 'that', huh? Tell me, Tino, what do you think I think is going on here, huh?”
He shrugged as he took a seat across from me, and on his face, there was a look of surprise rather than of guilt. Maybe I had indeed overreacted. However, it had been a rough day, and I had been in a bad mood. A government agent from the IRS was looking into our financial records, and while we had an expert accountant, the best money could buy, who was doing his best to make sure that some of our more illicit activities and sources of money stayed out of sight, this IRS guy was coming close to uncovering certain things. Things that could put me in a very bad position if they came to light.
All I had done all day was sit down with my accountant and tried to work out ways of shuffling certain funds around, getting certain assets into other people's names, and putting together all sorts of tricks to try to outwit this IRS guy, because if we didn't... There would be trouble. A lot of trouble.
And now I had come home, in a pretty damn foul mood, to find Tino and Bethany drinking and laughing and eating together like they were just suddenly the best of friends.
Or more than just friends. I knew what Tino was like with women. He went through them faster than a fat kid does a bag of M and Ms. And with his appetite for women and Bethany's beauty, and then the alcohol and the laughing, and them spending so much time together every day, how could I not suspect that something was up? She hadn't even kissed me yet, but here she was laughing and drinking with Tino.
I couldn't help it – I got mad. Real mad. And I couldn't be around them a second longer, so I'd had to retreat to my study, where I could sit down, put my feet up and enjoy a glass of eighteen-year-old single malt and just try to forget, just for a few moments, how shitty the day had been.
“I know what it must have looked like,” Tino said eventually. “But let me tell you right now, Ben, I'd never, ever, ever touch Bethany. She's yours, and I know that. Everyone in the family knows that, and none of us would ever even dream of touching her. We know the code – I know the code – and as one of your oldest friends, and a proud member of your organization, I have to say again that I would never, ever do something like that.”
I stared at him, my expression still cool, and nodded.
“I'm sorry,” I mumbled. “It's been a tough day, Tino, and I guess I just made a snap judgment on what I saw when I walked in.”
“I understand,” he said. “I see how it could have looked from your perspective. But really, I ain't doing nothin' with her. I was just helpin' her, you know, being the taste-tester. There ain't nobody else around here for her to give the food to, and she's really, really getting' into all this cooking stuff. You should be happy about that, Ben! She's gonna make a great wife for you. Once you get her to finally quit that damn diner, she'll have a ton more free time and then she'll be makin' you these delicious dishes. Be thankful for that, Ben. You've found yourself an awesome woman. And let me just say again, I would never, ever do nothin' with her.”
“I know that Tino,” I said. “Deep down, I know that. Hell, you're one of my best friends. You have been for years. I trust you more than I trust just about anyone on this planet. I'm sorry man, I guess it's just been a real stressful day, and I just flipped when I got home after all of that and saw... what I saw.”
“How close is that IRS guy to finding anything out?”
I sighed and shook my head.
“Real close Tino, real close. He's diggin' deep, and he ain't givin' up. He knows that he can smell a rat, and now that he's got the scent, he's like a freakin' little terrier. He ain't stopping his diggin' until he gets that rat. I've been working all day on shifting funds around, moving money from this place to that place, going over all of our records and making sure everything is hidden as well as it can be hidden. And even after that, we're still not safe. There's no telling what, if anything, that guy is gonna find. And if he does find anything... Shit man, we're gonna be in trouble. In huge, huge trouble.”
Tino nodded, the expression on his face grave.
“Can't we do something about this punk from the IRS?”
I looked at him, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
“'Do something' about this guy? What exactly do you mean, Tino?”
He shrugged.
“Whack him. Make him disappear.”
Tino was a great soldier and a loyal friend, but man, what he had in the muscles department he was really lacking in the brains department. I shook my head.
“Tino, listen to what you're saying. A high-profile IRS accountant is investigating me, a member of the Sciotti family, who are, in the public eye, and hell, in the government eye, rumored to be a mob family. Then this accountant mysteriously vanishes – and his body turns up in a dumpster or a sewer a few weeks later. How's that gonna look? Who are they gonna immediately assume is the culprit? Then they government will know for sure that something is up with me, and they'll send even more IRS people to come after me – not to mention cops and detectives to investigate the murder. No Tino... we can't just make this guy 'disappear'.”
He frowned.
“Well, how about we pay him off? Just give him enough money to look past whatever he finds. Come on, who don't like a big fat wad of hundred dollar bills slipped silently into their front pocket.”
I shook my head.
“No, Tino. We can't buy off an IRS agent. These guys only get to their positions of seniority in the IRS because of their incorruptible nature. Or at least that's how it's supposed to be. If we were to try to bribe him, chances are he'd turn us in right away, and then we'd be charged for bribery on top of whatever else he finds out about us. No, we can't do that.”
“What can we do then?”
I sighed a long, frustrated sigh.
“There's nothing we can do. We gotta wait, we gotta sit around with our thumbs up our asses and just wait... and pray that this IRS asshole doesn't find anything out.”
“I don't like sittin' around and waitin',” grumbled Tino.
“There ain't nothin' else we can do,” I replied. “Look, I gotta get some more paperwork done. Why don't you go back out there and sit with Bethany, finish your drink with her.”
“You sure?”
I nodded.
“I'm sure. I just need some time alone right now.”
He got up.
“Well, I guess I'll leave ya to that, Ben.”
“Yeah, we'll talk later, Tino,” I said. “Go have yourself another drink, and enjoy that food Bethany made. I'm sure it's good – it smelled delicious.”
He walked out and closed the door behind him, leaving me alone in the office. I thought back to our teenage years when he and I had first become friends. I had to chuckle at the memory that came up as I thought about the beginnings of our friendship.
“We had some interesting times, we really did,” I whispered to myself.
I thought about one of the first runs my father sent us on. We were both sixteen years old, and our mission was to go fetch a car that one of his associates owed him. Well by “fetch” he meant steal, since his associate had refused to pay back money that was owed. The associate in question had a black Trans-Am, the one with the golden eagle painted on the hood. This dude loved that car – I mean, he totally adored it. So that's why my pops wanted us to boost it. Perfect revenge.
We were told where the car was, and what time we needed to boost it. So, sure enough, we show up and the car is there. We get to work on unlocking the doors with a Slim Jim – easy peasy. We'd done it plenty of times before.
Then, as soon as we got inside, a police car rolls up the road. We panicked, and scrambled into the back seats and laid down, pretty much on top of one another, so the cops couldn't see that there was anyone in the car. It turned out the cops were actually staking out this guy's house! So, they parked across the street from us, watching this prick's house, while we had to lay on top of each other without moving in the back of this damn Trans-Am for a good three or four hours! Eventually, the cops left and we were able to boost the car, but it gave us something to talk about for days!
I laughed as I thought of the memory. It had been a hellish three or four hours (in truth, it had felt like we were stuck in the back of that car for days rather than hours) but I had said to Tino at the time, “man, one day we're gonna laugh about this shit,”. And now, true as anything, that day had come.
I sipped on my whiskey and chuckled again. It was good to be able to laugh. I needed a laugh after everything that had happened today. The worst part was that it wasn't over yet.
I took one more sip of my whiskey, and then pulled a thick file out of my desk. It was time to get back to work...
***
The next day I got up early, as there was still a lot to do. I took a hot shower to wake me up and then dressed in a dark gray Armani suit with black wingtips and a black tie. I checked and cleaned my .45 automatic, which went everywhere with me in a hidden holster inside my jacket and then headed out. I took the elevator down to the underground parking lot where my car was, and as I stepped through the doors, I saw a familiar vehicle pulling in – a silver Jaguar.
The car pulled up in its spot right next to the entrance to the elevator, and Delia Grant stepped out. She was dressed in a pink dress with a white fur gown, was carrying a Luis Vuitton bag, and looked as if her hair had just been done. To tell the truth, she looked stunning, but I had no interest in her – my heart belonged to Bethany, and Bethany alone. And besides, I knew that inside that chest of hers with its silicone-enhanced breasts, there was only a heart of stone and ice.
She beamed out a huge smile at me as she got out of the car – a smile as fake as the two lumps of silicone on her chest.
“Ben! Oh my God, it's so wonderful to see you!” she exclaimed, rushing over to me with open arms, to give me a hug.
I stepped back though and held up a stiff arm, preventing her from doing that.
“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” I said coldly.
“I just... I just wanted a hug,” she said.
“You know what I'm talking about.”
She shook her head, looking confused. I suspected she was acting though; she knew perfectly well what I was talking about.
“My new girlfriend, Bethany.”
“Oh, is that her name,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Quite plain and forgettable, just like her.”
Anger ripped through me.
“You insulted her in public, Delia. You made her feel like shit with your attitude and your comments! Don't you stand here in front of me and lie, and pretend like you don't know nothin' about that! Don't!”
“I was just having a little chat with her,” she said. “I don't know where you get this idea about me insulting her or whatever.”
“'Just having a little chat' huh? Bullshit! She told me exactly what you said to her, and by God, if you were a man and you had done this, I would already have stomped your damn skull into the ground! But just because I don't hit women, that don't mean there aren’t other things I can do to hurt you. So, you'd best back the fuck off, Delia!”
Tears started forming in her eyes, and an expression of sadness washed over her face.
“I... I only did it because I love you, Ben,” she said, her lip quivering. “Don't you understand that? I love you! We should be together! We're meant to be together!”
She rushed into my arms and wrapped her arms around me tightly, and moved her face up to kiss me. I put a hand in front of her face and pushed her away.
“There's no you and me, Delia!” I snapped, “and there never was! We had sex a few times, and that was it! I didn't mean nothin' to me, and if you think that's 'love', you're crazy! I never told you that I wanted to be with you, I never told you that I loved you or even liked you! That shit is all in your head! Now get the hell away from me, and remember what I said – if you say or do anything, and I mean anything at all to Bethany, so help me God I'll destroy you. I don't even wanna hear that you looked at her in the wrong way! Do you understand me?!”
“Ben,” she said, weeping openly now, “why are you doing this?! We're meant to be together, we're-”
“Stop saying that!” I roared. “There is no you and me! There never was, and there never will be! Now stay the fuck away from me and Bethany!”
I shoved past her and stormed off to my car, not paying attention to anything else she said. I got in, revved up the motor and then tore out of the parking garage with screaming tires, leaving Delia there on her own. In my rear-view mirror, as I left I saw her muttering something and shooting me about the most evil glance I'd ever had fired at me, but that was to be expected, I guess.
The phrase “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” came to mind as I drove away, and for a few moments I was a little worried. After all, I knew that Delia had a very vindictive personality.
Still, I was a powerful man in the Sciotti family – what could a spoiled rich girl do to me? I pushed the worry from my mind, and got back to thinking about the day ahead.
THAT NIGHT
I managed to work hard with my accountant all day, and we worked solid through the day for around nine hours, with only a quick half hour break to eat. By the time we had finished, everything was squeaky clean, and my accountant was convinced that there was nothing that the IRS guy would find. After I made sure, for the umpteenth time, that everything was good, I decided to head straight home.
On a whim, I decided to let Bethany know that I was coming back early. I wanted to sit down with her and apologize properly for my earlier bad mood. I messaged her and told her I'd be back soon, and she replied right away. She seemed happy to hear that I was on my way; that was a good sign for sure. Things had been getting better with her and I, and I felt that we were growing closer, and that an affection for me was unmistakably present now in her. I could see it in her eyes, and hear it in the way she spoke to me.
I drove back, thinking about what to order for dinner from the restaurant downstairs. I was pretty hungry after a long, tough day of work.
I got back home with a meal in mind, and planned to order for both of us as soon as I got upstairs. Much to my surprise though, as soon as I walked into the private entrance lobby of my apartment, I noticed a delectable scent wafting through the place. What was this now?
I opened the front door and saw Bethany sitting at the table, which was decked out with a feast. There were bruschetta, salads, two glasses of red wine, and the main dish – pasta with a homemade basil pesto sauce and Parmesan.
“I got it all ready just in time,” said Bethany. “Now, you can sit down and enjoy a good meal after a long day of work.”
I beamed a broad, ear-to-ear smile at her.
“This is amazing!” I said. “Wow! You've really put my kitchen to good use, huh?”
She smiled.
“I have. Thanks to your mother, I've really gotten back into cooking. She helped reignite the flame I had for it, one which I seemed to have lost a long time ago. But it's back now, it's definitely back, and cooking makes me happy. So, this here, maybe it smells familiar... it's one of the recipes from your mother's book.”
“Oh yeah, that little thing,” I remarked with a chuckle. “She likes handing that out!”
“It's fantastic. Full of absolutely delicious recipes.”
“Well,” I said, “let's see how well you've done with this recipe.”
I took a seat at the table, and immediately Bethany stood up and brought me a glass of wine.
“Here,” she said. “I picked this one because it's supposed to go well with a pesto-based dish.”
I nodded.
“Impressive.”
I sipped the wine and enjoyed its flavor.
“Mm, this is good! Well done. This wine will, I think, go down very well with the main dish. Now, speaking of the main dish-”
“Not yet,” she said, shaking her head. “I didn't make these starters just for decoration. Now come on, have a bruschetta and some salad first.”
She dished me up some salad and handed me a bruschetta as well. I tasted both, and both were amazing.
“You've really done an excellent job with this,” I said. “Seriously. I can't wait to try the main course.”
We talked and chatted and drank our wine, and then eventually when we got to the main course, and I finally got to sample it, I was blown away.
“The flavors, the texture... it's all amazing!” I exclaimed. “Seriously! You nailed this! It's as good... no, to be honest, it's even better than when my mother makes it.”
Bethany smiled and blushed.
“Aw really, do you really think it's that good?”
“It's beyond good. It's some of the best food I've ever eaten, anywhere. And that is my honest opinion, not an exaggeration.”
And it was my honest opinion. This was seriously good. I knew that my plan to have Bethany running a real restaurant, connected to the new casino that I was going to build in her diner's street, was the right thing to do. With food like this, I had no doubt that it would become one of the most highly-regarded restaurants in all of Detroit. Still, I didn't think that now was the right time to discuss this with Bethany, so I decided not to bring it up.
There was, however, something else that I did want to bring up with her.
“Bethany,” I said as we enjoyed our main course, “there's something important that I want to discuss with you.”
“Sure,” she said. “What do you want to talk about?”
“My family is quite a major donor toward the Children's Hospital Burn Unit, and there's a big fundraiser tomorrow night. I am going to be attending – as will many prominent and high-flying members of the Detroit business community. I want you there with me. I want our relationship to be fully public – out there in the open for everyone to see. You can take my credit card tomorrow and buy whatever you need to doll yourself up for the occasion – it's a black-tie event, so you need to be dressed to the nines. Will you do this for me – with me?”
She looked up from her plate and smiled.
“Yes... yes, Ben, I will.”