FUCK!
Okay, universe, why are you doing this to me?
No, it was Nonna who launched this madness into my life. Nonna, the universe, and whoever hired the receptionist.
I need to call HR. She’s gonna let Jenny walk back there, no appointment, no checking ID… What the fuck? And she didn’t even recognize the owner of the company standing three feet away from her.
I guess the dog really is an invisibility cloak.
I text Silvio as I return to the summer heat on the street.
Me: Tell me which unit that woman in your office is buying.
Please not the building I fucking live in.
Silvio: 18B in the high tower.
Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck and an extra fuck for bad luck.
Silvio: What do you want me to do? She’s got a cute dog here, and she’s asking questions.
Me: That’s my dog.
Silvio: Can I pet him?
Seconds later, he sends me a picture of him petting Kingston. Damn it.
Me: Did the couple who offered $200k over asking pan out?
Silvio: Still waiting on the bank.
Silvio: Your dog likes Jenny. And her questions are legit and researched. She’s quoting the building code to me. Who is this woman?
If that isn’t the question of a lifetime.
The subway is only a block away, and it will lead me right to Uncle Gio’s office. He has spots all over town. He called a family meeting at a joint Nonno owned. It’s old school—no Wi-Fi, no cameras, just a space with a few chairs. There’s still blood spatter on the wall from a hit back in the eighties. It also smells like stale cigarettes and cigars. Honestly, the subway station is cleaner.
Silvio: Where are you? I’m this close to giving her the place for free if she lets me keep your dog.
Me: You can’t have Kingston.
The fucking audacity that he thinks he can steal my dog and cost me money. I must’ve gone soft if he thinks he can talk to me that way.
The subway platform isn’t crowded, just a few people of varying ages and descriptors that aren’t important. Mostly my brain registers them as not a threat. My phone buzzes again.
Silvio: She’s talking about bringing in lawyers.
Of course she is. She should. We’re the ones who are in the wrong.
The screaming subway drowns out my cursing. The hot air and the stench of oil hit me at once as the train blasts by and comes to a halt. The doors open and a few people trickle out. I find a seat next to an old woman who makes my heart hurt the instant I see her.
Nonna is gone. And all I have left of her is…
Me: Fine, give her the place. Put on a good show, make a big deal out of it.
Silvio: Closing in a month?
Me: Close whenever it’s good for her. Keep her happy.
