Sleeping With The Enemy (6 page)

‘You’re
irresistible, Mr. Imposimato,’ he said with a wide grin.

He took the
lunch box and left the apartment. He arrived at the studio and stood with the camera
crew as she finished off the news bulletin. ‘…That’s the end of the 2 o’clock
news bulletin. I’m Rosina Ameliano. Join me for the next news bulletin at 3. I
leave you in the hands of Simon, who knows everything most of us don’t know about
the weather.’ She smiled beautifully. ‘Simon, what good news have you brought
for us?’

The picture on
the monitors switched to Simon.

‘That’s it,
Rosie,’ said the producer.

She took off her
earphone and unclasped the tiny microphone from the lapel of her blouse. When
she looked up Imposimato was waving at her.

She stood up,
gathered her iPad and papers and walked over to the small group gathered at the
cameras. She came closer to him and whispered, ‘What’re you doing here?’

He grabbed her waist
with his free hand, pressed her to him and gave her a hot kiss. The small group
of men cheered noisily.

Someone shouted,
‘Introduction!’

When he let go
of her she was blushing fiercely.

‘Tell them,’
Imposimato said. ‘Or should I?’

‘Um,’ she
cleared her throat. ‘This is Ferdinando Imposimato…’

‘Oh God!’
exclaimed the lighting assistant, an openly gay man of twenty-eight. ‘The Mafia
are in town.’

Ferdinando
cleared his throat and smiled.

‘He’s my
boyfriend,’ Rosina concluded.

There were loud
cheers again, and some of the guys came and shook Ferdinando’s hand, winking at
him mischievously.

Rosina whisked
Ferdinando away and they went her office. He went in first and she came in last
and closed the door, but remained standing there watching him silently.

‘I brought you
lunch.’ He handed her the lunch box.

She opened it
and took a peek inside. ‘Wow!’ she exclaimed. ‘Looks delicious.’

‘Home Fried
Chicken à la Imposimato. Winning recipe always. It’s the healthiest thing you can
eat. And there’s yoghurt in the lunch box too. Good for the digestive tract.’

She looked up at
him with a wonderful smile. ‘Thanks a lot.’

He lifted an
eyebrow in surprise. ‘Is that all I get?’

She edged closer
to him and gave him a peck on the cheek. ‘Thank you.’ She eyed him naughtily.
‘I’d really love to give you more than that, but I’m swamped.’

‘Are you chasing
me away?’ he asked with a feigned hurt expression.

‘Yes,’ she
responded with a laugh.

‘Ouch!’ he said
quietly.

She laughed harder.

He crossed to
the door.

‘Fare thee well,
my lady.’

‘Goodbye, Ferdinando.’

He left and closed
the door.

Rosina sat down at
her desk and smiled to herself as she opened the lunch box to eat. ‘Mmm.’

* *
* * *

After delivering
the 3 o’clock news, Rosina worked furiously at her desk for a while, then held a
mini-meeting with her producer and the news head, after which she went to the
newsroom to prepare for the 4 o’clock news. When the time arrived she gave the
4 o’clock news to America and then went to her office to gather her things.

She left her
office and on her way out of the studio she blew a kiss at the two jokers of the
newsroom, the 28-year-old gay man and his best friend, the cameraman.

‘Man, Mafia
service has always been efficient,’ commented the lighting assistant when Rosina
was out of earshot.

‘And diligent,’ agreed
his friend.

‘Generous.’

‘If not
sumptuous.’

‘God!’ the
lighting man grimaced as if in pain. ‘I prefer things less deleterious.’

* *
* * *

Outside, she
bought
The
New York Times
, scanned the headlines, and then folded
it, placing it under her forearm as she walked leisurely along the pavement.

A dark limousine
came to walking pace alongside her. Its back window slid open and a voice called
to her. ‘Hey, Miss Ameliano, do you want a ride?’

She looked at
the face that came with the voice and smiled when she recognized Imposimato. ‘I
don’t take rides from strangers.’

‘Even strangers
who think you’re the most beautiful angel created by God?’

‘No.’

‘My mother –
bless her beloved soul – always said not to look a gift horse in the mouth.’

‘How does your
mother get into this?’ she asked with an amused smile.

‘It’s because I
want to pay her a visit, and I want to tell her that I asked her to pray for me
to find me a good girl and I have.’

Rosina walked
silently for a moment. ‘Does this girl know?’

‘If she comes
into the car she might.’

The car stopped
moving and she went into it. She sat down next to him and he grabbed her left
hand and squeezed it affectionately. ‘Tell me about yourself,’ he said as the
big car started moving again.

‘What exactly?’

He shrugged. ‘I
don’t know…where you grew up…where did you go at school?...your family…’

‘I grew up in Hawthorne,
here in New York, with my younger sister, Paulina. Most of Pa’s relatives live
in Colorado. We’re not really close, and when Pa died the divide widened. Ma
followed Pa two years later, probably due to heartache more than anything else.
My parents were good people. Provided well for us and brought us up with good values
and a spirit of humanity. Not a day passes that I don’t think of them.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he
offered meaningfully.

She nodded and
looked away. ‘You went to school here?’

She nodded and
looked at him. ‘Then later went to Europe to study journalism. Came back here,
pulled some strings and got hired by the channel.’

‘You love your
job.’ It was a statement.

‘Nothing
compares to it. I’d die for it—.’ She stopped in mid-sentence and looked around,
an apprehensive expression suddenly covering her face. ‘Wait a minute; this is
not the way to my place.’

‘No,’ said
Imposimato calmly. ‘I’m taking you someplace else.’

‘Where?’ she asked
suspiciously.

‘I won’t harm
you, I promise.’

‘Truly?’

‘Cross my heart,’
he said with an indecipherable smile.

* *
* * *

The car sped along
the Interstate and went to The Hamptons. It chose a quiet neighborhood and
picked a big house built to generous proportions and similar in style to a Spanish
villa. Strewn around the place were guards in dark suits and sunglasses, with
sub-machine guns hanging from their shoulders.

The main door was
opened by a uniformed butler, who bowed down in reverence to Imposimato and
greeted Rosina with a warm smile. He took their coats and Imposimato guided her
around the magnificent hallways of the villa. She turned around to face him
with a curious expression on her face. ‘What do you do?’

‘I build
empires,’ he replied with a sly smile.

‘Does it pay
this much?’

‘It’s amazing
the things you can do with cement.’

She came to a
stop before a picture on the wall. ‘This is Rembrandt, right?’

‘Arguably one of
his best works.’

‘Done when he had
a bout of schizophrenia, and like all works done in that condition, it’s
excellent.’

‘I couldn’t agree
with you more.’

He walked up to
her and pulled her into his arms. They stood before a large window and looked
outside. ‘What’re you doing for the weekend?’ he asked in a quiet voice.

‘I wanted to
curl up on a sofa with escapist trash and lose myself in it.’

‘I have a better
plan.’

‘What?’

‘There’s a party
to celebrate the completion of a building project. Major players in the
industry will be there, and you’ll make me an eminent man by your presence
beside me.’ He kissed her left cheek lightly. ‘But before we do that, I want to
take you to the skies.’

* *
* * *

The hot-air-balloon
glided there above the lush residences of The Hamptons. Rosina stared down and
marveled at the beauty of it all. It was such a pretty sight, with New York far
off in the distance.

Ferdinando grabbed
her and kissed her neck. ‘Are you happy?’

‘I’m happy…And
in love. I don’t want this to end.’

He looked into
her eyes. ‘It won’t.’

The balloon
moved slowly above Connecticut until it brought them slowly down onto a
lush-green open field with sparse trees. They climbed out of the balloon’s basket
and walked hand in hand towards the car that had brought them to the field. She
tickled his ribs and he attacked her back, but she quickly sprinted away, screaming
delightedly. He chased her, and caught her when she slammed her back onto a
tree. He pulled her to him and kissed her with a hungry passion.

‘Stop it,’ she
giggled uncontrollably. ‘We still have a party to go to.’

* *
* * *

The party was a
black-tie affair. The guests arrived in big cars, and the women were dressed in
beautiful, flowing evening gowns. Beautiful opera music filled the great
ballroom. Champagne flowed in copious amounts.

Imposimato
entered into the ballroom with Rosina at his arm, and they accepted the offer
of champagne from a waiter. They walked around the big room, mingling with
other guests. Then Ferdinando took her to a group of six women who stood chatting
noisily at one corner of the room.

‘Ladies,’ he
greeted them with a broad smile.

They greeted back
with a round of hellos.

One of them said,
‘Ferdinand, I was beginning to think you’ve grown to hate me.’

He pulled her to
him and embraced her in an affectionate hug. ‘I could never do that, Lisa.’

Another pulled
him out of Lisa’s hands and hugged him. ‘My favorite man, do I still have a chance
with you?’

He pulled
himself out of her arms and turned to Rosina. ‘Ask the lady.’ He smiled at the
group of ladies. ‘Ladies, this is Miss Rosina Ameliano. Don’t you agree she’s
breathtaking?’

‘Hi…how’re
you…Pleased to meet you…’ they all spoke at once, greeting Rosina.

‘I’m fine…thank
you…pleased to meet you too,’ Rosina tried to answer all of them.

‘Ladies,’ said
Imposimato. ‘Please do me a favor. Keep my girl safe. I’ll be back to fetch her
in a second.’ He whispered in her ear. ‘I won’t be long.’

She smiled back at
him beautifully.

‘Look at him,’ said
one of the ladies with an amused smile. ‘He’s smitten like a cat. What did you
do to him?’

‘Tell us, how’s
he in bed?’ followed another before Rosina could answer.

‘Hey, manners, Cathy,’
chided Lisa. Then in a conspiratorial voice said to Rosina, ‘So, tell us,
legend has it that Senor Imposimato is hung like a horse. Is it true?’ she asked
with a wink at Rosina.

Rosina nodded and
the ladies erupted in laughter.

* *
* * *

He took the elevator
downstairs to the basement parking lot. When the elevator’s doors slid open he
was welcomed by two of his bodyguards. They walked with him to a dark
limousine, from which an old man with a face scarred by the ravages of time
emerged. He took Imposimato’s hand in a firm handshake.

He spoke with a
distinctly Italian accent. ‘Ferdinando, how’ve you been, my friend?’

They embraced each
other for a moment.

Instead of answering
the question, Imposimato said, ‘You got the commodity?’

The old man smiled.
‘But of course.’

He snapped his hand
and one of his lieutenants handed him a dark briefcase. He placed it on top of
the limo’s trunk and flicked the briefcase open. Neat layers of hundred dollar
bills were stacked to the brim of the briefcase. Imposimato moved closer to the
old man, picked up a bunch of hundreds and smelled the money. He threw it back
in the briefcase and shut it closed.

Then he pointed
to a pack of cement bags stacked against one of the walls. He nodded at one of
his guys and the guy picked up one of the bags and brought it closer. He placed
the bag at Imposimato’s feet. Imposimato pulled a knife from one of his pockets
and crouched down. He cut the cement bag and pulled out a small plastic packet
containing some white powder. He straightened up and made a small cut across
the plastic and handed it to the old man.

The old man
dipped a finger in the powder and tasted it. He nodded his satisfaction.

‘Good doing
business with you, gentlemen,’ said Imposimato with a tone of finality.