“Do you have a mistress?”
That was none of Alfonzo’s business.I hung up instead of replying.I dialed the number he gave me.A woman answered.“Alfonzo Conti-Messina recommended you.I have a woman who needs her life restored.How soon can you make that happen?”
I watched Ellie’s anger fade to concern.It intensified as I packed what we could salvage into my trunk.“Are we going to a hotel?I can pay.”
I slammed the lid a little too hard.“Get in the car.”
“You didn’t open the door for me.”
Even upset, scared, and fleeing her home she had sass.
“Apologies, amòre miàu.”The words spilled out unbidden.But I wasn’t going to walk them back.Thankfully, she didn’t understand what I said and settled into the passenger seat without calling out my slip.
When I pulled away from her place, she broke the silence.“You know what’s weird?”
I braced myself for something guaranteed to knock me off balance.“What?”
“You know five languages, but only claim to be able spell correctly in four.Why is that?”
Not what I was expecting.“I’m sorry, what?”
“I mean, you slip into that really weird sounding Italian around Mario and the guys on the island.And I noticed that even Allie doesn’t understand what you guys say.So, it has to be a separate language, right?”
When had we slipped up?It was forbidden to speak the language in front of outsiders.“It’s just a dialect.Like Creole is to French or a Boston accent is to English.It’s still Italian.”The lie tasted wrong on my tongue.Technically, it was closer to the common Latin spoken before the Roman Empire.In the north, the language was further transformed by Corsican influence and inflections unique to that language.
She stared at me.
“What?”
“Have you ever learned how to write it?”
“No.”
“See?Weird.”She settled into her seat, smug in her assumptions.
“You don’t write it down.”
Her lips pursed.“One of those...things, huh?”
I smiled.“Yes.”
Her eyes traced the scenery for a minute.“You know, if you take the Dan Ryan, you’ll miss a lot of lights.”
“Do you even know where we’re going?”
“No, but I’d assume somewhere on par with your little hitman’s hideaway that you showed off that one night.”
This woman...“First, thatlittlehideaway is eleven-hundred square meters.Second...”damn it she was brilliant.“Fine, where do you think we’re going?”
“Lake Shore Drive.That’s where all the fancy condos are.”
“Where is this Dan Ryan street?”
“It’s not a street, it’s an interstate.”The offense in her voice was clear.
“I’m supposed to know that?”
Ellie laughed at me.“I guess the internationally famous hitman doesn’t know everything does he?”
