Chapter 6: The Man at the Gate

For a long moment nobody in the restaurant moved.

Saverio stepped down off the platform.

Two of his men pushed away from the wall by the kitchen.

At the corner table, the three men who had come with Corrado set down their forks at the same time.

Nobody touched a jacket.

Nobody had to.

Everyone in that room knew what was under them.

Saverio stopped an arm's length from Corrado.

He was a few inches shorter, and he had to tip his head back.

"You're a guest at my table, Amato."

"I'm a guest at your father's table."

"She's my fiancée."

"You're marrying her friend on Saturday."

"Then she's not your fiancée." Corrado looked down at me. "And she's not your waitress."

A woman near the window covered her mouth.

Saverio's face went white around the mouth.

I had seen him like that once, the day he went to find Gaetano after the miscarriage.

Gaetano had worn sunglasses for a month.

"Enough."

The old Don hadn't stood up.

He didn't need to.

He took the napkin out of his collar and laid it beside his plate.

"This is an engagement dinner," he said. "Not a fish market."

He looked at Saverio.

"Sit down."

He looked at Corrado.

"Don Amato. Thank you for coming so far. Perhaps you'd like your coffee now."

It wasn't a question.

Corrado nodded once to the old man.

Saverio went back to the platform.

He sat down beside Graziella and put his arm along the back of her chair.

His eyes never left me.

"And the girl," the old Don said, waving a hand without looking at me. "Take her home. She's spoiling the fish."

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