“That’s today.”)
KAREN: I’ll meet you at Palm Bay.
(ROLAND: “Shit.”)
He looked at his figures again, scratched them out and started over, multiplying, dividing, trying different ways, finally, finally then, coming up with the answer, what twenty thousand a month was six percent of. Jesus Christ, four million dollars the woman had!
9
----
LUNCH AT PALM BAY. Ed Grossi used a Rye Krisp and a spoon on his bowl of cottage cheese. Karen listened, sipping her Bloody Mary, picking at her shrimp salad, every once in awhile shaking her head. Unbelievable. Having to threaten, almost hit him with something to get him to talk about it.
“You serve me with some kind of cease and desist order. From doing what? Karen, this is a very personal matter. You want to get something like this in the papers?”
“If I have to. Ed, this is my life we’re talking about.”
Almost to himself: “People wouldn’t understand it.”
“Of course they wouldn’t. It’s something out of the Middle Ages.” Karen leaned closer, staring at the quiet little man across the table. “He told you this in the hospital? Was he lucid? How do you know he was even in his right mind?”
“It was before that,” Grossi said, “in my office. Before a witness.”
“Who, Roland?”
“No, not Roland. I said to Frank, you’re kidding. He said no, very serious. I know his voice, his tone. Nobody goes near her. I asked him why. He said I didn’t have to know that. Then Vivian came in, took some dictation. She witnessed my saying yes to him, it would be done.”
“Vivian, your secretary?”
“She’s more my assistant.”
“And Roland?”
“Somebody to carry it out, do the work.”
“You trust Roland?”
“He does what he’s told and keeps his mouth shut,” Grossi said.
You don’t know him, Karen thought, but held back from saying it. “Who else knows about it?”
“Well, Jimmy Capotorto. I told him a little, but not everything.”
Karen frowned. “Who?”
“Capotorto. Frank knew him. He’s been with Dorado for years; one of the associates.”
“Who else?” Karen said.
“That’s all.” Grossi paused. “But there are some stipulations I didn’t mention the other day that I didn’t want to get into all at once.”
“Like what?” Karen said.
“Well, if you move, the payments stop. You have to live in Frank’s house.”
“Frank’s house,” Karen said. “And if I marry again—I asked you that the other day, you said you weren’t sure.”
“For some reason it’s not a stipulation. I guess Frank assumed we’d see nobody got close to you.”
“But there’s nothing in the agreement that says I can’t take the entire amount.”
“Not in writing, no, but in the spirit of it, you might say.”
“Sign the bonds over to me and let’s forget the whole thing,” Karen said.
Grossi said nothing, looking at Karen, then at his cottage cheese, touching it tentatively with his spoon.
“Do you know why he did it?” Karen said. “Because he was having an affair and I found out about it. With a real estate woman.” A hint of amazement in her tone. “I told him—I wasn’t even serious, I was mad—I told him if he was going to fool around, I would too.”
“Well, he took it at face value and here we are.” Grossi seemed hesitant, working something out in his mind as they sat at his regular table in the corner of the grill room. He said, “Karen, I’ll tell you, something like this, I agree, it sounds like we’re back in the old country.”
“But we’re not,” Karen said; firm, knowing how far she was willing to go. “Ed, you’re aware of the people in here, how they keep looking at us?”
“You get used to it.”
“I go to the john I get looks, I hear my name, Mrs. Frank DiCilia, yes, that’s her, people talking about me, not going to much trouble to hide it.”
“Sure, you’re like a movie star.”
“All right, what if I stood up right now and made a speech,” Karen said.
KAREN: I’ll meet you at Palm Bay.
(ROLAND: “Shit.”)
He looked at his figures again, scratched them out and started over, multiplying, dividing, trying different ways, finally, finally then, coming up with the answer, what twenty thousand a month was six percent of. Jesus Christ, four million dollars the woman had!
9
----
LUNCH AT PALM BAY. Ed Grossi used a Rye Krisp and a spoon on his bowl of cottage cheese. Karen listened, sipping her Bloody Mary, picking at her shrimp salad, every once in awhile shaking her head. Unbelievable. Having to threaten, almost hit him with something to get him to talk about it.
“You serve me with some kind of cease and desist order. From doing what? Karen, this is a very personal matter. You want to get something like this in the papers?”
“If I have to. Ed, this is my life we’re talking about.”
Almost to himself: “People wouldn’t understand it.”
“Of course they wouldn’t. It’s something out of the Middle Ages.” Karen leaned closer, staring at the quiet little man across the table. “He told you this in the hospital? Was he lucid? How do you know he was even in his right mind?”
“It was before that,” Grossi said, “in my office. Before a witness.”
“Who, Roland?”
“No, not Roland. I said to Frank, you’re kidding. He said no, very serious. I know his voice, his tone. Nobody goes near her. I asked him why. He said I didn’t have to know that. Then Vivian came in, took some dictation. She witnessed my saying yes to him, it would be done.”
“Vivian, your secretary?”
“She’s more my assistant.”
“And Roland?”
“Somebody to carry it out, do the work.”
“You trust Roland?”
“He does what he’s told and keeps his mouth shut,” Grossi said.
You don’t know him, Karen thought, but held back from saying it. “Who else knows about it?”
“Well, Jimmy Capotorto. I told him a little, but not everything.”
Karen frowned. “Who?”
“Capotorto. Frank knew him. He’s been with Dorado for years; one of the associates.”
“Who else?” Karen said.
“That’s all.” Grossi paused. “But there are some stipulations I didn’t mention the other day that I didn’t want to get into all at once.”
“Like what?” Karen said.
“Well, if you move, the payments stop. You have to live in Frank’s house.”
“Frank’s house,” Karen said. “And if I marry again—I asked you that the other day, you said you weren’t sure.”
“For some reason it’s not a stipulation. I guess Frank assumed we’d see nobody got close to you.”
“But there’s nothing in the agreement that says I can’t take the entire amount.”
“Not in writing, no, but in the spirit of it, you might say.”
“Sign the bonds over to me and let’s forget the whole thing,” Karen said.
Grossi said nothing, looking at Karen, then at his cottage cheese, touching it tentatively with his spoon.
“Do you know why he did it?” Karen said. “Because he was having an affair and I found out about it. With a real estate woman.” A hint of amazement in her tone. “I told him—I wasn’t even serious, I was mad—I told him if he was going to fool around, I would too.”
“Well, he took it at face value and here we are.” Grossi seemed hesitant, working something out in his mind as they sat at his regular table in the corner of the grill room. He said, “Karen, I’ll tell you, something like this, I agree, it sounds like we’re back in the old country.”
“But we’re not,” Karen said; firm, knowing how far she was willing to go. “Ed, you’re aware of the people in here, how they keep looking at us?”
“You get used to it.”
“I go to the john I get looks, I hear my name, Mrs. Frank DiCilia, yes, that’s her, people talking about me, not going to much trouble to hide it.”
“Sure, you’re like a movie star.”
“All right, what if I stood up right now and made a speech,” Karen said.
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