Insert standard disclaimer here: not mine, no credit, no fame, no money, no fair.
Jenny (JenRar) thank you for working on this chapter as the beta. Your skills make this a better story.
Chapter 21 – No Longer Hiding
"Zip?" Hal's slightly nervous voice sounded through the speaker phone on my desk.
"Yo," I replied, using RangeMan shorthand for yes, I'm here and how can I assist you.
"There's a woman at the front desk who is demanding to speak to either you or Stephanie. Bomber's not here, so I'm hoping you'll come and talk to her," he replied.
"Who is it?" I asked, uncertain as to why anyone would come in off the street and ask for me by name.
"She says her name is Annalise Pertucci, and first, she asked to speak to Anthony, but then when I told her we didn't have anyone here by that name, she gave me your name instead," Hal reported.
"Where is she?" I wondered, realizing the two worlds I'd worked so hard to keep apart were somehow colliding, and I was at a loss about how to stop it from happening. I figured this must be how it felt in that split second before impact when you know a car is about to hit your vehicle, but there is nothing you can do to avoid it.
"I put her in the conference room on the first floor," he answered, at least giving me the assurance that everyone in the organization hadn't seem my mother and begun speculating about who she was. Hal was pretty quiet, so there was still a chance I could keep this contained. He burst that bubble when he kept talking. "She's got a pretty big security detail, so only two of them went in with her, and the other two are standing outside the door."
Whoever was working monitors had definitely noticed that, and since any conversation that spurred my mother to drive up to Trenton instead of calling promised to be lengthy, I knew there was no way for this to escape the notice of the guys. I was screwed. "I'll be down in a couple of minutes."
I picked up my cell phone and hit the speed dial for Stephanie, waiting to hear her voice answer.
"Hey, Anthony. What's going on?"
"My mother is at RangeMan, asking for you," I told her, hearing the panic in my own voice and knowing it was being heard by Stephanie, as well.
"Did she say why?" Stephanie followed up with a perfectly reasonable question. "Is everything okay?"
"I don't know. I was just curious if you had any idea why she'd show up." Honestly, I needed to calm down, and hearing Stephanie's voice always had that effect, so I was hoping she'd work her magic.
"I'm at the station with Mooner," she told me.
She'd gone after one of the few skips that we'd agreed was safe for her to go after right now. I was hopeful I could stretch her recovery for at least another four weeks to indefinitely, but I knew better than to say that out loud.
"I can probably be there in fifteen minutes," she offered, finally giving me something to cling to enough to go downstairs and appear to be calm.
"Come in the main entrance, and if you see Dad's staff guarding the door, then come on in because we'll still be there."
We spoke for another minute until she said she was getting her receipt and would head straight back to the office. I made my way down the stairs, glad to run into a few of the guys, which gave me a legitimate reason to delay my arrival in the lobby. As I came out of the stairwell, Lester was coming into it. He glanced at the conference room door, being guarded by two big guys in non-descript black suits with hair greased back to stay in place.
He let his eyes go between the image at the door and to me several times before saying, "If you hadn't told me yourself, I'd never have pegged you as being a part of it. You just don't look the part," he joked, while keeping his words vague enough he hadn't betrayed my confidence.
"Thank goodness for small favors," I mumbled. "Stephanie hates greasy hair."
With that, Santos went upstairs laughing, and Hal looked at me as though I'd lost my mind. I had to give the guy credit, though; he didn't look the least bit intimidated by the firepower taking a position behind him. If he was uncomfortable, he certainly didn't show. The guy might be quiet, but he showed potential for being competent. Tank had been suggesting I partner with Hal some, which I'd completely avoided so far, but maybe after this, I might reconsider.
I walked up to the men at the door and held back a laugh as they attempted to stand taller or more at attention. The one at the doorknob nodded and said, "Mr. Pertucci," and then opened the door, indicating I should enter.
Before going through, I told him, "My fiancé will be joining us in a matter of minutes. Please let her in as soon as she arrives." My father had always taught me to be clear and polite when handing out instructions to the men that worked for us. It felt strange, but I knew it's how he would have handled it, so I followed his example, figuring it had to be right.
"Anthony," my mother called out as soon as I stopped talking to her security force. "I'm sorry to barge in like this, but I absolutely had to see you."
"Is everything all right?" I asked, seeing that she was definitely upset about something. My mother was always calm and in control. She was better at keeping her emotions in check than I was. Seeing her shaken over something was pretty big, and I was instantly on edge about what it was. "Is Pop all right?"
She waved her hand, as though my father were the least of her worries. Before she could explain, the door to the room opened once more, and Stephanie walked in, wearing her RangeMan uniform, identical to mine except she had only a stun gun on her hip and was missing the Glock, knives, and throwing stars where they could be seen like I had.
"Stephanie," Mom called out from where she'd stopped to greet me. "My dear, are you all right?"
I did a quick inspection of the woman in front of me and thought she looked exactly the same as she had this morning when we came to work together. Other than a small amount of what appeared to be jelly on her shirt, she was perfect in my eyes.
"I'm fine, Mrs. Pertucci," she attempted to assure my mother.
"Why don't you call me mom like Anthony does, or at the very least Annalise," Mom suggested. Then she moved to pull Stephanie into a hug, holding her even longer than she had me when I first came in.
"Is everything okay?" Stephanie asked, still in my mother's grasp. She looked to me over Mom's shoulder, and I had to shrug that I had no idea. "What brought you into our neighborhood today?"
That was what it took to shake Mom from her stupor. "If I adopted you, would it still be legal for you to marry my son?"
Stephanie and I looked at each other, and I realized she was going to make me lead the conversation to get to the bottom of whatever had my mother beside herself. "Mom, you're confusing us both – and, quite frankly, grossing me out with that marrying my sister comment – so can we sit down so that you can tell me what's going on?"
That was enough to finally assist Mom in letting go of Stephanie. Just to be sure we didn't have any repeats, I grabbed Stephanie's hand and led her to take the seat beside me on the opposite side of the small conference room table.
"I decided to call your mother and introduce myself this morning," Mom began by speaking to Stephanie. "We're going to be family, so there was no reason for me to wait on you two to organize a meeting."
"Was my mother rude to you?" Stephanie seemed afraid of the answer to her question.
I squeezed her hand to let her know it was all right, no matter what the answer might be.
Mom brushed off the question and said, "I told her who I was, who my son was, and that we were going to be family soon, and then I invited her to lunch. Helen seemed hesitant and refused to let me send a car for her, insisting she could meet me at the restaurant instead. The first few moments were pleasant enough, and then out of nowhere, once we'd ordered our meals, Helen began to apologize. I couldn't figure out what had happened, and then I realized she was apologizing for her daughter, calling her an embarrassment, and promising to work hard to get her into shape before any wedding took place."
I was suddenly pissed that we were in the conference room, because Stephanie was squeezing my hand so hard, I was worried she was cutting off the circulation to my fingers. I didn't mind bearing pain for her, but if we weren't in these ridiculous seats with the arms on the sides, I could have pulled her against me, and I knew she would have relaxed some.
"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," Stephanie spoke, her voice tight and hurt. "My mother and I don't see eye to eye on very much, so I'm sure she assumed you were there to talk about how you didn't see me as a suitable candidate to be Anthony's wife."
"My dear, the few days you two stayed in our home were the first times I'd seen Anthony smile in several years. He didn't fight with his father once, and for the first time since he left for the Army, I got a proper goodbye. He laughed, he talked, and he showed an interest in the family. As far as I'm concerned, you singlehandedly brought my son back to me. If anything, I worry that Anthony might not be worthy of you."
"Thanks for that," I bit out, understanding the point she was trying to make but wondering why it had to be quite so harsh.
"You know I love you, dear," Mom replied more out of rote than actual emotion. She addressed Stephanie once more. "By the time I finished having lunch with Helen, I wondered how you came to be the wonderfully well-adjusted and graceful young woman that you are, and I had to come over to let you know that at least as far as the Pertuccis are concerned, you're perfect exactly how you are. Simply perfect."
"Thank you," Stephanie whispered, quickly brushing away a tear that had fallen. "Thank you very much for stopping by to let me know that."
"Oh, my dear." Mom stood up and moved around the table, pulling Stephanie to her and holding her tightly. "Honestly, I came over here hoping that a few moments with the two of you would help me to see reason."
"Reason?" Stephanie pulled back to ask.
"I've got a small force with me today at Salvatore's insistence. It was all I could do not to order a couple of them to stay behind and teach her a lesson about insulting members of our family," Mom teased.
"She insulted Anthony?" Stephanie went from emotional to pissed off so quickly, I didn't even see the switch.
"No, my dear," Mom corrected. "She insulted you, and we absolutely consider you a part of the Pertucci family now." That helped Stephanie to ease off her temper slightly, giving Mom the encouragement to add, "And seeing how quickly you rose up to my son's defense, you obviously fit right in."
We visited for a few more moments before Mom announced she had some shopping to do and was going to head over to the mall for a while. "Is there any chance you might join me?"
The invitation was given to Stephanie, not me. It was a strange thing, because anytime before this very moment, I would have wanted Stephanie to say no. Going to the mall with my mother meant identifying herself as being associated with a mob family, which meant, by association, outing who I really was. My identity, which I'd worked so hard to protect for years, no longer mattered. Stephanie was hurt by her mother's actions, and getting the unconditional support from my mother seemed to make her feel better. My previous desire for privacy was nothing compared to my need to give Stephanie anything she wanted.
When Stephanie glanced over at me, I told her, "I've got a later day at work, so I was already going to miss dinner tonight."
"Are you sure?" she asked, obviously giving me the chance to give her any indication that I didn't want her to leave with my family. She was protecting me, even if it meant giving up something she wanted to do.
"Absolutely," I answered easily. "Is there any chance you'll take a credit card and do a little shopping from my account?"
"Not a single one," Stephanie replied sternly, basically threatening me to try taking over her spending only at my certain peril.
"Oh, my dear, we clearly need to spend some time together so that I can help you understand why it's always a good idea to take a credit card when a Pertucci man offers it," Mom teased, glad to see she was apparently about to have company shopping. "But it's no matter, because we are going to use my card today, and everything is my treat."
"No, you can't do that," Stephanie attempted to argue, not realizing the only woman more stubborn than her was my mother.
"I certainly can, and I absolutely intend to, even if it means buying it and having it delivered to your home," Mom threatened, making me smile. My family was harsh, perhaps dirty, and at times deadly to those who crossed us, but inside the unit, there was no denying our connection.
Ten minutes later, Mom and Stephanie were on their way to the mall, driving separately because Stephanie had some other errands to run once they were finished. I kissed them both, but admittedly, I lingered much longer with Stephanie's soft lips than I did on my mother's cheek.
I waited until the guys had pulled Mom's car around and secured her into it to turn back upstairs.
It was Hal's uncertain voice that called out to me. "So you knew her?"
"Couldn't you see the resemblance?" I asked, wondering why I was suddenly feeling freedom to tease one of the guys. When he still looked lost, I clued him in. "That was my mother."
"Is she a politician?" he followed up, obviously trying to account for the security detail.
Something about an all-Italian secret service force amused me, but I answered him anyway. "Nope, she's just married to somebody that is obsessed with her safety and has the resources to protect what's most important to him."
Then he pushed one too far. "Does that mean after you and Stephanie get hitched that she's going to have a detail of her own?"
"If she does, I'll be sure to refer them to you for advice on how to not fall victim to her charms," I answered, alluding to the first time he met Stephanie and she talked him out of his own stun gun before turning it on him in order to escape. With that, I turned back and headed inside.
When I stepped out, Zero called out to me. He was alone on monitors, so I took the seat next to him, willing to stare at a few screens instead of having to maintain eye contact with him while I waited to see what he wanted. After a brief moment of uncomfortable silence, he spoke up and asked, "Was that Annalise Pertucci?"
"Yes, it was," I confirmed, uncertain how he knew my mother's first and last name. She was often in the society pages of newspapers, but none of the guys around here struck me as the kind to look at that section of the paper.
"How does she know Stephanie?" He was obviously trying to get at something and wasn't coming right out with the direct question he wanted to know.
"She's my mother," I informed him. "What else would you like to know?"
"Your father is Salvatore Pertucci?" Zero asked, as though it would be easier to believe I'd just told him my father was Santa Clause.
"The one and only," I admitted, feeling like this was much easier than I'd ever imaged it would be. "Anything else?" I prompted when he was quiet.
"Why do you work here, then?" Zero asked.
Normally if I'd gotten a question like that, I would have assumed it was because the person I was talking to didn't think I was clean enough to work in an organization that tried to get crime off the streets. I guessed Stephanie's influence was having a greater impact than I'd originally assumed because I wasn't the least bit defensive when I replied, "I wasn't interested in working in the family business, and the benefits here were good, so when Ranger offered me the job, I took it. How about you?"
Zero did a double take, so I pointed back to the monitors as a reminder he was the one technically on duty here, not me. Apparently, he didn't realize my turnabout was a joke because he answered it. "My uncle offered me a job in his organization, but gun handling just wasn't on my list of perspective careers, so I turned him down and followed my old CO here. Besides, I don't speak Greek, which would have always put me on the outs with the rest of the family, so it was easier to do this than admit to what I didn't know."
This time, it was my turn to do a double take. "Your uncle is Alexander Ramos?"
"Yeah, he's my great uncle technically," he admitted quietly. "I figured everybody here knew and just didn't bring it up because they didn't want to admit to having any knowledge in case the feds ever took my family down."
"Your uncle isn't going to be taken down by the feds," I pointed out what should have been obvious to the guy next to me.
"So do the other guys know about your family?" he pushed.
"I've never hung up a sign or made an announcement, if that's what you're asking," I answered in lieu of the truth, which would have a been a big no.
His voice got a little harder then, as though I were stupid enough to ask a woman to marry me without telling her who she was getting mixed up with. "But Stephanie does, right?"
Just for that, I stood up, slugged him in the arm, and answered, "That's for asking such a stupid question."
As I walked away, I heard Zero call out, "Man, a simple yes would have worked. You didn't have to smack me."
Cal must have returned for his shift just in time to hear Zero complaining and smacked Zero himself. "That's for being such a pussy," he offered as explanation for the follow-up beating.
Why I always thought revealing who I was related to would mean having to quit work was a mystery all of a sudden, so I went to Tank's office and knocked on the door.
"Enter," he barked in his usual way.
"Just wanted to let you know you were right," I announced with no preamble.
"Usually am," he agreed, before blinking twice and caving. "About what exactly are you applauding my forethought?"
"My mom was here earlier," I began and then stopped when Tank's eyebrows jumped up half an inch. "She wanted to see Stephanie to apologize for the shitty way Mrs. Plum treated her daughter."
"I like your mom already." Tank grinned, gaining a few points in my book for standing up for my mother's instinctive response and for liking it when people were nice to Stephanie. As much as I wished to claim her as only mine, I knew most of the guys here would claim a piece of her as their own too, so being good to her was in essence being good to all of us, as well. "What does having a smart mother have to do with me being right?"
"I've always hidden who I was so that no one here would make the connection about who I'm related to," I reminded him of part of our conversation when I first returned to work. "I think it's time to relax and just let the chips fall where they may. I have a feeling I've been trying to protect my connections for no reason."
"I told you the guys wouldn't care," Tank reminded me. "They've worked with you long enough to trust you, and around here, that's all that matters – just like I said."
"Yeah, yeah." I brushed off his reminder that I could have saved myself a few years of worry and stress if I'd listened to him sooner. "I don't plan on making a big deal out of it, but I'm not going to go through the same lengths to hide it, either."
"Does this mean you're going to start talking now?" Tank asked with a straight face. "Because I kind of liked you better when you were quiet and kept to the shadows."
I raised my middle finger as a silent salute and walked out to the sound of his booming laughter. I wasn't promising I'd suddenly become one of the more verbose members of the team, but I was done hiding. Stephanie accepted me for who I was – in my entirety – and it was time for me to trust that the guys I never doubted to have my back in the field would follow her example.