past few months, he knew little about him. He was trying not to pry and upset Lia. His focus had been on whether he’d take care of Lia and how well he’d do it, and on those scores, Alex excelled.
“Pretty typical story, as far as we’re concerned. He started as an errand boy around fourteen or so. After high school he went full-time, started doing real running work. Caught our attention when the Bondaruks tried to flip him. You know the rest—Angie leaned on him for swinging out, he held up under that pressure. Kid didn’t cry, didn’t beg, didn’t give an inch, not even to make it stop. He’d been loyal, and he knew he had to hold fast under Angie’s lean, so he held. Impressed the fuck out of Ange. He moved him over to his roster after that, and he’s been security and enforcement since. That’s what—four years?”
“Something like that. Personal life? I know he lives with his mother.”
“Carla Di Pietro. She runs a little beauty parlor out of her cellar.”
Nick knew that much. He’d met Carla on a few occasions by now. She was a nice woman. Not impressive in any way, but decent. Toward Nick, she obviously felt the blend of awe and suspicion he’d grown accustomed to. People in the Cove treated him like a god—sometimes benevolent, sometimes dangerous, but always fearsome.
“There is one unusual thing Calvin found in his security check. I don’t know if it means anything, but in light of last night, maybe. Alex’s old man dumped the family when Alex was a senior in high school. The stronzo had a second family for years, and he left Alex and his mom for them. He’s a smart kid—great grades, great test scores. He had a fistful of full-ride scholarships to colleges, but he didn’t take any of them. He stayed home and went full-time with us. Maybe what happened with his dad killed his motivation for college and made him want to be a tough guy instead, because that’s when he chose us.”
Nick didn’t think being a tough guy was the motivation—or not the sole or main motivation. “What’s the financial situation?”
“Fair. His mom got the house in the divorce, but that’s about it. It wasn’t paid off, but she’s made the mortgage more or less steadily. She’s got some credit card debt, on the heavy side, a car payment, and a small business loan. The payments get made. I think Alex helps—you think it was money? But he had big scholarships. Academic scholarships. To serious schools.”
“College is expensive even with tuition and board paid. You would not believe what textbooks cost, for one. Besides, if his mom can’t make the bills on her own, he wouldn’t leave her to try.”
“And she would let him give all that up?”
Nick’s assessment of Alex’s mother was that she was a decent but not impressive woman. He could easily imagine her not having the fortitude to refuse to let her child bail her out of trouble.
He knew what he would do next. “I want to clear her debts. And talk to Marion Guilfeuil.”
“The chancellor at Brown? What’re you thinking?”
“To make things right. I need Alex in my office this afternoon, too. After I speak with the chancellor.”
“He’s on shift in the warehouse today. I’ll send him home to change.”
Nick had a rule that no one came into his office who wasn’t dressed for a meeting with the don. It had been his uncle’s rule as well—a tradition standing for decades. Now, he took a beat and considered whether it was ready for a change.
But he was a man of tradition, and that particular one was deeply rooted in respect as well. Not all the old ways had to go, at least not while he sat in this seat. Trey could make his family in his own image when it was his time.
“Yes. Have him change.”
~oOo~
Donnie led Alex into Nick’s office at mid-afternoon, and with a look asked Nick if he wanted him to step out or join the meeting. Nick answered with a look as well, and Donnie stepped in and closed the door. He nodded to the other leather chair before Nick’s desk, and they both sat down.
Nick had called Alex into his office a few times now, and always he came in the same ill-fitting suit, the same shirt with the neck too tight and the sleeves too long, the same plain tie. Associates didn’t make much money; neither did warehouse workers.