iSit Down With Uncle Carmine

That Friday afternoon, Melanie Benson strode into Il Terrazzo Carmine dressed to kill in a black business suit, black designer sunglasses, and matching boots, flanked by her attorney and business manager. She looked very much the diva.

Uncle Carmine had been expecting her. He, too, was dressed impeccably. Gone was the proprietor of one of Seattle's finest Italian eateries. Now, he was simply the Boss. Melanie leapt into his arms, speaking sweetly in her family's native tongue. She kissed him on both cheeks. It was obvious that she loved him dearly.

The staff began whispering to themselves. They were, naturally, wary of outsiders. It would be all too fitting if Carmine Puckett's house was brought down from within. Carmine could hear what they were saying and was none-too-pleased. The insinuation that his precious, beautiful niece would come here to do him wrong was repugnant. On any other day and in any other situation, such insolence would be dealt with severely. This was not that day.

Carmine, dressed in a finely tailored black suit, turned and rebuked the assembled staff in terse, angry Italian. He was furious, but the fire raged below the surface. Carmine Puckett hadn't become what he was by losing his composure. The message was clear. Back off.

Melanie glared at the tall young man who couldn't hold his tongue in her uncle's presence. Her uncle was no saint, granted, but that level of disrespect towards a man that meant the world to her made her blood boil. She was a Puckett by birth, so she kept it all inside.

Carmine ushered his niece and her entourage into the private dining room. Melanie took a seat, shooing her professional handlers off to one side. She had made it clear that if she wanted their input, she would ask for it.

For the next twenty minutes, uncle and niece conversed intimately in fluent Italian. She knew all that she needed was her uncle's signature. She knew that this was a non-negotiation. Her uncle would never deny her anything, provided that she could offer him a compelling argument to show that what Melanie wanted was in their mutual best interests.

Melanie motioned with her left hand over her shoulder. On cue, her attorney withdrew a hefty looking contract from his briefcase, setting it on the table next to her, inches from her iced tea.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced by the piercing blue eyes that looked out at him from behind her oversized black Dolce & Gabbana frames. She was serious as a heart attack. Speak only when you are spoken to.

He offered her a pen from the breast pocket of his jacket. She took it, uncapped it, and signed her full name to the paper with a flourish. She lifted the pen, watching the dark ink from the fountain pen seep slowly into the heavy paper. The rush she got from this moment rivaled any moment in her life, aside from her very first kiss with Freddie Benson. She passed the document across the table. Carmine signed the document without reading a single word. If his niece came to him with a way of accomplishing multiple goals with the stroke of a pen, that was all that he needed. Carmine Puckett was Old School. He was a businessman, first and foremost. True, some of his endeavors operated outside of the law, but he was a businessman nonetheless. What he had just done might be seen as being reckless – The Old Man losing his touch. Carmine didn't care. The first rule in his line of work was quite simple: The Boss's decisions were never to be questioned.

Carmine crossed the double T's in his last name with a flourish and set the pen aside. While complex, the contract that he had just signed was essentially a quitclaim deed, selling Il Terrazzo Carmine, to that point a standalone business, to a newly-formed Washington State limited liability company – Gemini Restaurant Group – a wholly owned subsidiary of Mythical Enterprises, Inc., which was, in turn, a corporation under the sole control of Melanie Puckett-Benson.

Melanie was all about family. There was a method to her madness. In exchange for selling the restaurant which he had built up over the span of the past quarter century for the token price of a single dollar, Carmine would stay on to oversee the restaurant's operations at a specific salary. Melanie knew that this restaurant meant the world to her uncle. It was his one legitimate business venture – untouched by his other income. She had done all of this very deliberately. Her uncle's restaurant, along with Melanie's other outside interests, could be self-funded via her music career. She could closely control things with the stroke of a pen. Things had to be just so.

Melanie looked across the table to her uncle. He had – on paper, at least – given up everything, all at her behest.

Carmine Puckett had begun the day as the proprietor of one of the Emerald City's best-known restaurants – with a reputation to uphold. Now, within the course of an hour, Carmine had gone from the man behind the desk to a cog in a corporate wheel. He could see that his niece – the quiet, unassuming one – had inherited all of the forward-thinking business acumen that he had tried to instill over the years. He knew that his baby was in more than capable hands. As the woman calling the shots, Melanie would defer on everything – she was smart enough to delegate responsibility to those she trusted implicitly.

Melanie loved Carmine dearly, and what he had done for her showed that he no longer saw her as a little girl. It was true that she would always be his delicate little flower, but he had begun to see her as a grown, competent, intelligent, articulate woman. She reached across the table and took his large, masculine hand in her dainty, delicate one. She held it for a long moment before drawing it close, kissing his ring. They may be family, but, like all those engaged in business matters with him, she had to show him the respect which he was due. She spoke quietly to him. It was the only English she had spoken the entire day.

"I love you."

He knew.

Melanie smiled as she glanced down at the final paragraphs of their now signed and sealed agreement. While Carmine would be retained on a salary, he was now essentially free to retire to his winter home in Key Biscayne. This proviso had been included at Melanie Benson's insistence. Her uncle deserved the peace and quiet that his line of work rarely afforded. The following paragraph, also crafted at Melanie Benson's express direction, created the position of General Manager for Il Terrazzo Carmine and had stipulated a very generous salary. The section also named the specific person to be hired for this position as one Samantha Puckett.

Melanie walked to her uncle, embraced him, and kissed him profusely. She would always be his little girl.