Luca was the black sheep, the rebel. He was also Carlo’s favorite sibling. Even though Carlo was the responsible one, and Luca was the one always in trouble, they got each other better than anyone else. Carlo had eventually realized that they were the most like their father of any of the siblings, even though they were quite different. It was as if Carlo Sr.’s personality had been divided in half and each of his eldest sons got one half. Carlo was the one who put his head down, who almost always did what was expected, who took care. The provider and family man that their father was.
Luca was the one who demanded space of his own, who would not bow to pressure to conform. He had the kind of strength that their father had shown when he’d stood before his older brothers and refused to become a part of their organization. Their father had demanded the right to live a legitimate life, and his brothers had respected his strength and embraced him for it.
The line between the family businesses had grown a little blurry over the years, and was getting even blurrier if Joey had made the choice it seemed he might have, but their father’s accomplishment in building a business that was successful and respected in its own right was not diminished.
Luca shared another thing with their father that Carlo didn’t share: physicality. Carlo was tall, lean, and long-limbed, six-foot-three, with broad shoulders and comparatively narrow hips, Luca was built like a cage fighter—right at six feet and massively muscled, his biceps huge and his trapezius muscles arcing noticeably over his shoulders. He’d actually done some boxing and competitive MMA in his twenties, but he’d blown a knee. It had been repaired, but he hadn’t been so enamored of the sport that he’d been willing to cripple himself for it.
Their father had the same build. In later life, it had tended to roundness, but Luca, at thirty-three, was all hard muscle. Despite his greater height and his own cut physique, on which he worked with some sense of commitment, Carlo often felt unsubstantial next to his younger brother.
That was brought home again as they sat on the beach. As usual, all the girls who walked by saw Luca first and smiled at him, their hips picking up a little extra sway when he smiled back. And he always smiled back.
But this afternoon he was less welcoming of the girls’ attention than usual. He and Carlo were talking in some depth. They were both in their father’s doghouse now.
Carlo had first asked about Joey, but Luca didn’t know more than Carmen had, which wasn’t much. Whatever was going on with Joey and the Uncles was new. Carlo Sr. had grabbed his youngest son by the collar after breakfast and pulled him into his study. They’d still been in there when Carlo had left Trey watching television with Rosa and John and had gone out to have a paddle with Luca. The waves had been a little mushy, but it was always good just to get wet.
When they came back in and settled on the beach, they’d first talked about Luca, because Carlo had taken a preemptive strike and put their conversation on that path. Luca and Carlo Sr. were fighting over a job bid, it turned out. Luca thought their father was underbidding on a big job, to the point that he thought it could hurt them. When he’d gotten nowhere in private discussion, he’d challenged the bid in front of the customer.
Carlo was pretty glad he’d been in Providence for the explosion that Luca had described.
“What’s the fallout?”
Luca shrugged. “We’ll see next week. After that scene in front of the customer, I expect we’ll lose the bid. But I’m glad. No way we could have made it with such a close shave. He should have seen it even without me pointing it out. He definitely should have seen it after I did. Something’s going on with Pop. It’s like he’s getting desperate all of a sudden. I can’t figure it. But I need to keep some space between him and me for a while. Much as I can.”
There wasn’t much space Luca could get. He was chief supervisor, in charge of all the crews. He was their father’s right hand. But now Carlo understood why he hadn’t shown for the cookout.
“Could he be sick? He was on me yesterday about abandoning the family legacy. He even said he was going to die, and then where would things be.”
Luca laughed. “No way he’ll ever see that it should be me. Fucking sucks, too. I love that damn company.”
“I know. I still say he’ll come around eventually. If only because there’s no one else.” The idea of either John or Joey at the helm of Pagano & Sons was a joke. Both worked crews—or had; Carlo wasn’t sure about Joey now—and both were good on a job site, but neither had the acumen to run the business.