“Night, I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”
I hug my friend and she watches from the doorway while I leave.
Five
Light Golden Blond
SALVI
We all work out at the same gym, the whole family, probably because my family owns it, along with almost all the businesses in this city and on the other side of the docks. The old warehouse houses all the best equipment and staff. Bodybuilding is the new black and the place is filled with cooler bag carrying, asparagus eating giants.
I, on the other hand, can still get my arms down the sleeves of my jacket. I don’t want to look like that, but I’m skinny as fuck, so if I don’t work out I look like a rat. In fact, my nickname is Rat – so flattering, it’s a real winner with the ladies.
It’s like family hour in here this morning. The sun hasn’t even risen and we are all in attendance. The expectation for the men to look like they will kill you with their bare hands is real, and rather ridiculous. I will never have the physique of my father, or most of my cousins, because I have my mother’s skinny-as-fuck genes, but it doesn’t mean I can’t try.
The strong smell of antibacterial soap and perspiration fills the place as the early risers work up a decent sweat. I toss my bag into a red locker against the wall and fill my water bottle at the fountain, taking a sip before I even start.
“Rat.”
My cousin Vicki calls to me, surrounded by the ‘security’ guys that work at his club. They are paid muscle and I’m sure they spend every hour they aren’t working for him in here getting bigger.
“Ciao, come join us for a few sets.”
I want to say no and run away, but that would earn me a sissy badge, so I stroll over to them. “I’m just going to run to warm up first.”
I opt for the track that circles the entire mezzanine of the enormous building, instead of a treadmill. It’s more satisfying and maybe they’ll forget they asked by the time I’m done. I prefer to work out alone. I like doing things alone. I put down my bottle and towel at the ‘start’ line painted on the floor, do a quick stretch, and start to jog, slowly building speed. Running is like therapy for me. As a kid at school I joined the cross country team so that I had an excuse to stay after and just run.
On my third loop around the track I see my father and Rain in a heated discussion with Vicki, and silently thank the stars I won’t have to join his little workout. There is no way in hell I am getting in the middle of whatever that is.
Dad may be older than Rain, technically his senior, but Rain’s going to be the boss and that alone makes Dad hate him. They fight often. My father seeks him out, pushes his buttons, tries to push him into reacting, and Rain resists, keeps quiet and remains respectful.
Not today, today he is red in the face, yelling and using big hand gestures. I can’t hear their conversation over the techno music thudding through the sound system, but it’s not a normal family spat.
My run has slowed to a walk as I watch from up here. Everyone has stepped aside. They are pretending they can’t see them, but are watching intently.
Vicki’s muscle wait for someone to throw a punch, like dogs on a leash expecting to pounce on their favorite throw toy. I can imagine them drooling and growling like hounds on the hunt.
My old man’s silver hair matches his gray gym t-shirt, and the way he stands is fight mode. I should know, as it’s usually reserved for me, the disappointment of his life.
After two more slow laps, Rain storms out of the doors at the far end of the gym and Vicki tries to calm my father down, talking to him. His giant hand is on my father’s shoulder as he walks him away to the free weights in the corner.
I keep running, the sweat seeping into my clothes, my lungs and legs burning. I wonder what my father has done to upset the family this time. How much further down the pecking order will I end up because of it?
Lost in my head, I am still running when the women carrying yoga mats start arriving and I realize I am going to be late. I grab my drink and towel and slow down to a brisk walk to get my bag and hit the showers.
I didn’t even notice everyone had gone. One or two guys hang around in the men’s locker room, but all I know is that I am going to be late.
On my way up the stairs to the offices, Viviana storms past, shoving me out of the way. She seems livid and doesn’t even greet me. It’s not unusual for her to be having a tantrum and throwing a fit. Since her sister left, she’s been a ticking time bomb.
I grab the dirty banister to stop from falling over and carry on up to the offices, pushing open the wooden door.
My Zia is at the front desk like always, drowning under heaps of dusty papers and disorder, because computers are the devil and she will not have one. Nobody has told her that everything she does gets put into a devil machine by someone else. I think my uncles just keep her here so she doesn’t have a meltdown about being old and unwanted.
“Ciao, Zia,” I greet, on my way past her to go down the passage.
I don’t have an office, but there is a room in the back with a TV and a couch where we all dump our shit before getting sent out to do what has to be done.
The thing with shady business is that it is usually conducted in the dark, so daytime is slow for us. Nights are when stuff gets moved, from cocaine, other drugs, arms, to people. During daylight we do random other tasks and today is no different.
Dumping my bags, I go in search of Rain, and hopefully not my father. Rain is good about keeping us on separate jobs, we don’t work well together.
“Rat.”
He greets me as I step into his office; it’s the one clean room in the whole space. Nothing is ever out of place, you could eat off his desk it’s so clean.
“Morning,” I greet and step into his space.
We get on, him and I, and even Vicki, although I don’t like working at the club because there are just too many people.
“You are late.” He checks his watch just to make sure.
It’s gold like the wedding ring on his finger, I wonder how he’s dealing with wifey coming home. The man isn’t exactly Mr. Personality – in truth, he’s a bit of a dick most days.
“I got distracted at the gym.”
He glares at me. “I want to put you in charge of something, it’s important, and I don’t have time to do it myself right now.”
I’m interested. He’s never put me in charge of anything before. No one has.
“My wife wants to renovate and expand that salon. I know you have done some work with construction before and I thought it could be your project.”
He looks at me, his lips pulling into a tight line and a frown on his face.
“Look, Salvi, your dad is going to be around this side of things, a lot more than normal while we move some blow for the Russians. This way you can stay out of his sight, because I want him where I can see him, I’m concerned about him.”
Concerned. The way Rain says it has an air of impending doom to it. My dad has pissed him off, he’s being watched – he’s made a mistake.
“Consider it a chance to do something different, and stay away from him while we deal with this … this stuff.”
“Sure. I guess. You are the boss, Rain.”