Miles rolled his eyes at his kid brother. “Fuck off. I’ll eat where I want.”
Landon gave Miles a look as if he now knew with certainty that his older brother was certifiably insane. There was symbolism to the location of Miles’s first meal as a free man. It was the place where the Capadonnos had tried to execute him. Tried and failed. It was at the Mi Famiglia restaurant that Vic Schiabetta had shot out the front window, with a bullet aimed right for Miles’s head. The cold truth of the matter was, it wasn’t just Vic’s doing. He was a foot soldier, following orders from capo. Vic followed orders from a man who should have had Miles’s back. The thought that they were returning to the restaurant sent shivers up Landon’s spine.
“You comin’ or what?” Miles asked him with a smirk growing from his lips.
Throwing his head back, Landon appeared to be fighting with himself about entering the establishment.
“Fine! We’re not staying all damn day though!” Landon spat.
“You got that right. I’ve got a woman I need to see and business that needs handling,” Miles replied coarsely as he opened the front door. As the bell over the front door rang, all eyes were on Miles. Miles’s silhouette darkened the doorway of the restaurant as seventy-two pairs of eyes drilled to his face. Some of the patrons stared up at him in anger, others in fear. But all of them, every last one, looked up at Miles Capadonno with respect. They all knew, you never cross a Capadonno. They weren’t exactly known for their forgiving nature. There was something about the looks on all of their faces that gave Miles a deep sense of satisfaction.
“Mr. Capadonno,” Rita Marone said in a thick South Philly accent. She looked surprised to see Miles. “What a pleasure seeing you here!”
The look of trepidation in Rita’s eyes didn’t match the warmth of her voice.
“It’s Cormack now, Mrs. Marone,” Miles said, correcting her gently. Nodding her head, Rita’s expression changed into one of deep approval.
“Good for you, Miles,” Rita said as she placed a hand on Miles’s arm, partially covering the skull on his sleeve tattoo. “Your mom and I, we go way back, you know.”
Miles nodded politely as he stepped out of the doorway to let Landon through.
“Do you remember my kid brother, Landon?” Miles asked as he pointed towards the kid. In typical Landon fashion, he grinned from ear to ear. As Miles watched Landon grin at Rita, he began to wonder if the kid’s got even a drop of Capadonno blood in him.
My mother must’ve had some side action. For all I know, Landon could be the mailman’s kid.
“Oh, yes! I remember Landon!” Rita gushed. “You were just a baby when I saw you last…”
“Hi, Mrs. Marone,” Landon said with a wave of his hand.
Rita glanced at Landon, then back at Miles. She continued to compare their faces with her eyes until a wicked smirk formed on her face.
“What?” Miles asked as a smile grew on his own face.
“He’s so….bianco!” Rita said with a laugh as she continued to compare the two Capadonno brothers.
While Landon peered at Miles and Rita in utter confusion, laughter ripped from Miles’s mouth. Miles’s eyes watered, his belly hurt and he couldn’t stop laughing.
“Bianco? What’s bianco?” Landon demanded to know with wide eyes and a self-conscious look on his face.
Mrs. Marone was still laughing, so Miles acted as her proxy and replied for her.
“She said you’re so white…” Miles replied as he wiggled his eyebrows teasingly at Landon.
The kid stood there with a nonplussed look.
“Ummm…” Landon said in a confused tone of voice, “thanks. I guess.”
Miles elbowed Landon in his gut and explained, “His Irish American side is much more prominent.”
“I see! I see! I hope you’re staying out of trouble!” Rita said as she pinched Landon’s rosy cheeks.
“I am,” Landon replied as he broke away from Rita’s clutches.
“He’s a good kid,” Miles confirmed. “He’s my buddy.”
Rita smiled in approval as she grabbed two menus.
“Follow me, gents,” Rita said as she led the way through the dining room.
The light atmosphere faded as Miles and Landon followed Rita into the dining room. The patrons continued to stare. They were watching Miles’s every move, like a hawk stalking its prey. Landon noticed it too. He whispered in Miles’s ear, “We should go.”
Miles rolled his shoulders as he let his stress roll down his back.
“Chill,” Miles spat through his teeth.