Page 14 of Tailored for You

“How do you know about that?” I sighed.

“You order men to watch over her, and you think that wouldn’t make it to Marcello, the Don, and then me?” Adrienne laughed. I rubbed my temples. It seemed like I was going to have another conversation with Marcello about keeping personal matters personal.

Was nothing sacred anymore? A man could no longer keep his obsession to himself.

“Can you get me everything I need to know? And while you’re at it, there’s a woman, too. I think her name was–” I paused, trying to remember the woman who looked at me like I was a piece of meat and didn’t hide it.

“Apple.” Adrienne cut me off, sighing. “She’s a trust-fund girl who thinks she’s Blair Waldorf to Charles’ Chuck Bass.”

“Should I know who those people are?” I needed to keep her on track. Otherwise, she’d go off on another tangent I didn’t have time for.

“Probably. Anyway, they’ve always had a thing for each other that, in the end, hurts everyone around them, but they’re too self-centered to see it. I’ll send you my dossier on them. I’ve been waiting for an excuse to use it.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Please don’t mention it to her.” I knew Adrienne and Serena talked regularly, and I didn’t need Serena to know anything until I was ready for her to.

“I won't. And for the record, I think you’d be good for her. So don’t screw it up, or I’ll make you regret breathing in her direction. Bye.” She hung up. Some men would take offense at how Adrienne spoke to them, as if she were their superior. Especially the men who Marcello, Rafael, and I grew up around.

Women were often things—possessions—who didn’t have a say. They’d never met someone like Adrienne and would have no idea how to handle her, let alone consider working with her.

They had more than earned that level of respect from me that the old men who used to be in my position handed to men who never deserved it. They had skills most men only thought they had but couldn’t even conceive of having. As a group, they got the job done, and I never once had to worry whether it would get done or about the blowback of such actions. Competence went a long way in my world, and they had that in spades.

Adrienne and the women she worked with were among the few people I trusted.

With the most important thing crossed off my list, I headed into the office to get to work.

Long ago, I learned to accept some of my more obsessive behaviors.

Checking in on Serena daily and setting eyes on her multiple times a day had become part of my routine. It brought me peace.

First, it was the walk to school, ensuring both my girls made it there okay. Then came lunch. If Serena was in her creative zone, it was likely she wouldn’t stop to eat. Which bothered me only because I hated how stretched thin she was.

She took on any project that came her way, charging rock-bottom rates when she was worth so much more.

I’d see to it that she not only charged more but was more selective with her work. I wouldn’t allow her to work herself to exhaustion every day.

I walked out of the office, barely nodding at the people who worked for Panorama, the architecture and construction firm that Marcello, Rafael, and I created as the legal side of our business. We were able to control the unions better when we employed them.

Marcello always knew he’d be the Don of the Cosa Nostra. Rafael and I were introduced to him when we were young. From there, we spent years planning what we would do differently. How would we reimagine the brotherhood in our image? Make it a true family.

When Marcello came to terms with his arranged marriage and fell in love with Adrienne, everything shifted. She was a badass who could take him down, and we grew in ways we never could’ve predicted.

One of those ways was expanding beyond the East Coast. Adrienne’s base was out of Portland, Oregon. Her job sometimes had her passing through New York, visiting her family while she was here if she could, but it was inconsistent.

Marcello took a leap of faith, moving there, prepared to grovel for the rest of his life for the way he screwed up. Adrienne didn’t make him wait too long, and he was the happiest I’d ever seen him.

With him on the West Coast, I was responsible for running New York and all that it entailed. Marcello ran a tight ship—one that I helped mold from the beginning. Slipping into the top spot was easy, even though there was still some general dissatisfaction from the older men who wanted to go back to the golden days when you could kill someone in broad daylight because they had offended you somehow.

Grabbing the takeout from Thai Villa, I walked the few blocks to her building.

I hated that she split her studio up so half of it was a makeshift apartment. I hated that I knew she didn’t like it. She’d never said it in so many words, but it showed in the throwaway comments she made. I hated how hard she worked, but she was always taking on more because of what I had to assume was fear.

I touched my ring, the one my father had worn, and remembered how he taught me to have patience. That nothing I wanted would come easily, and if I gave up after the first obstacle, I didn’t deserve it anyway. Especially with love and women.

It was about showing up, showing her in all the small ways I’d be there for her, just as I’d be for the big moments.

Making sure she ate, got home safely, and was as happy as she could be—that was the bare minimum.

Patience. It was something I had in abundance and had no issue with exercising.