Dangerous Benevolence

The lovers at the secluded table of Mezzaluna, holding hands, gazing into each other’s eyes re-opened Dario’s barely healed wounds and forced him to seek solace in his office. The full-length mirror he passed in the foyer reflected a well-dressed, successful restaurateur, but he knew better than to believe the illusion. The clanging of dishes and murmurs of the restaurant staff muffled through the wall.

He dropped into the leather chair. The unopened bottle of the Frangelico on his desk taunted him. Combing his hand through his hair a few times, he tried to remember the sweet, nutty taste of the liquor on his tongue. His mouth salivated at the thought. If he popped the corked and took a sip, he wouldn’t be able to stop until he consumed the last drop. He shifted his focus on the gypsy stone on the table. Fourteen years later and he still couldn’t part with the damn thing. Now it was nothing but a paperweight for the restaurant’s stack of bills, and a constant reminder of his pain. The only keepsake him and Irena had shared…or half of it. Did she still have the other half? So much for the gypsy’s prediction.

If there was a rewind button on the life he would’ve pressed it long ago. He straightened, leaning against the backrest, the coldness of the leather seeping through his thin cotton shirt. Better get his thoughts back on the job. Damn bills won’t pay themselves.

He grabbed the yellow purchase order from the top of the stack and scanned over the page. Why did he bother? His accountant had warned him of the declining sales over the years due to the bad economy. Many businesses around his restaurant folded, he struggled to keep the prices low to attract patrons, but people’s disposable income shrunk and they rarely dined out.

The door to his office flew open and Ante stepped in, two uncapped beer bottles in his hand. He kicked the door shut behind him. “I knew you’d be hiding in your cave.”

Annoyance replaced Dario’s brooding “Your only saving grace is that we’re family or I’d fire you for bursting into my office without knocking. You think I put that sticker on the door saying keep nuts out because I’m allergic?”

“Ha-ha.” Ante approached the desk. He plopped one beer in front of him and lowered to the chair facing Dario. “Never drink alone.” After taking a long swig from his bottle, Ante pointed at the tall bottle on the table. “Going back to hard liquor? You know what that shit does to you.”

Dario tilted the brown glass. Last time he had fooled his younger brother was in grade school, not likely he’d buy the lie now, but it was worth a try. “Wasn’t gonna drink it.”

Ante arched an eyebrow, looking at him with that who-are-you-kidding-bro look. “You enjoy torturing yourself by staring at it?” He gulped a few more long pulls from his bottle and swiped the back of his hand over his mouth. “We did great tonight. Wait staff is happy with tips they got and we’re ready to close. Mom must be proud.”

Ante raised his bottle and Dario clicked his beer with his brother’s in a toast to their parents, their nightly ritual at closing.

Ante nodded fast a few times, drained his beer, licked his lips, and then deposited the empty bottle on the table. “So, coming to the party?”

Dario thumped his beer on the desk and pressed his finger at the stack of bills. “I suppose you’ll take care of these?”

“Oh come on. Leave the work for one night. It’ll still be here in the morning.” His brother tapped his foot against the desk, annoyance filled his tone.

“Exactly.” Dario leaned over, his finger still on the top bill. “And doubled if this stack doesn’t get taken care of tonight. We receive deliveries every day.” He flashed one bill in his outstretched hand. “This one’s for bread.” Picked up another and waved it in the air. “Beer.” Then another. “I don’t know what this one’s for, but it’s for something. Some days it feels like everyone wants our money and all I do is write checks.” “Okay, you proved your point.” Ante pointed at the stacks of papers on Dario’s desk. “This is just an excuse. You think I don’t know you. Ana’s been asking about you.”

Dario turned to the computer screen, guilt brewing in the pit of his gut. Whenever he thought of Ana that night came to mind…the night he preferred to forget. “I can’t imagine why.”

“The two of you made a good couple, everyone thought—”

“Well, try paying your bills with everyone’s opinions.” Dario dismissed him with a wave of his

hand. People and their ideas. Who asked them for the advice? The assumption that they knew what was best for him irked him no matter how hard he tried to ignore the rumors.

Ante loosened up his tie. “You dated Ana because she kind of resembles Irena, but what happened? One minute you two were kissing and the next, zilch. The break up was so sudden.”

Dario scrubbed his hand over his face. So the bitch had not told, yet. Surprising. He pushed the beer bottle across the desk. “Too much booze and with her fake blonde hair close to Irena’s, I cried the wrong girl’s name in bed.”

Dumb mistake. Anna’s bleached hair could not compare to Irena’s tresses—rays of sunshine reflecting off the surface of the water. Neither could be captured in a bottle of hair dye. God, learning to live without her had been harder than saying goodbye. He’d tried to stop comparing every girl to Irena to no avail, for fourteen years he was left to grapple with their split-up.

“Aw man, that stings.” Ante got on his feet and took the empty bottle. “Still, you should get out instead of living in this office, like some hermit. I hear Irena’s parents aren’t doing well. Maybe she’ll come home to see them one last time.”

Dario shook his head. “Knowing her parents, the world wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t.”

Despite his words, a hint of hope kindled inside him, but he extinguished it fast. No, if she returned, she’d find a way to contact him. Unless… She’d fallen out of love with him. After all, it’d been fourteen years. Unimaginable, they had promised their love would live forever, but they were young and green. He could still

recall the sweet scent of her hair, the feel of the soft skin pressed against his body.

“People said teenagers are not mature for marriage.” Ante’s voice pulled him out of his reverie. Again, goddamn people and their thinking.

“No, I was too poor, not book smart and no promise of a great future. Her parents never liked me, thought their daughter could do a heck of a lot better. Back then, her parents were right and made damn sure to put as much distance between us as possible by sending her off to Canada. The night we split up, my toes pushed through the holes in my socks. Yet I wanted to give her the world, hell, I couldn’t afford a new pair of socks.” Dario powered down his computer, hiding his face from Ante. Their parents had provided food on the table, a one bedroom shack that he and his brother slept on the floor, and plenty love, but there was not much else. “Ironic, now I have everything money can buy, but I don’t have her.” He raked his shaky hand through his hair. “Don’t know why I still hold on.”

“No need to explain it to me, bro, I understand you, and those who don’t…” Ante clicked his tongue. “Well, no explanation is possible. Back then everyone took us for two good-for-nothing SOB’s, but we proved them wrong, didn’t we?” He pointed at the picture of their parents’ house hanging on the wall behind Dario, which he’d painted from an old photo and his memory on the long and slow tanker voyages. “Now others beg us for a job. Speaking of which, you won’t believe who came asking for work earlier today.”

Dario leaned back in his leather chair and pressed his chin on his laced fingers. “Humor me.”

“Who was the one guy the most likely to succeed since grade school?”

“No, oh-ho, no,” Dario chuckled. “What’s that saying about the wheel of fortune? You’re right, I don’t believe you. He had a name for us, Lepers brothers? Yes, that’s it. Didn’t the snob get a scholarship of some kind?”

“Yeah, that blew up his already overblown ego. In the end, what good did that do him?” Ante shrugged. “He’s unemployed and from scanning over his resume also unemployable.”

So expensive education and no common sense or job. “What did you tell him?” Laughter still rumbled Dario’s chest. Since they’d opened the restaurant, people gossiped the two brothers wouldn’t make it. Now five years later, those who pointed fingers and ridiculed them knocked on their door looking for work.

“That we’re fully staffed.” The corners of Ante’s mouth curved in a mocking grin. “Anyway, why would we give him a job when he wouldn’t let anyone use his pencil eraser? Plus, I’m not joking, we are fully staffed.” Ante unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. “I’m gonna change into something more casual. I do like these new suits you’ve got for the staff, by the way. The vests are accentuating the waitresses’ bosoms.”

“Good grief, I can’t believe you’re still holding that high school grudge over a pencil eraser.” Dario snorted. Yes, his brother could hold a grudge for life. “Anyhow, that is why you’re in charge of hiring. I would’ve given the poor sucker a job.” Dario leaned on his elbow, staring at the white chef’s jacket draped over the hanger on the dark door of his office.

“Didn’t you want me as a manager because I can come up with the biggest BS?” Ante scratched his head

and grabbed the back of the chair with the other hand. “That too.”