Power Play Read Online Free

brother. At least he was coming home. I hadn’t expected him to drop his life in Colorado.
    “If you can’t be civil, why don’t you go sit in your car, Andrew?” Mom snapped.
    Drew lifted the magazine back up, hiding his scowl.
    “Gaby, Papa will be counting on you to help Joey while he’s out.”
    “What’s he going to be doing?”
    “He’ll be taking over for Dad.”
    “At the shed or at one of the stores?” I asked.
    More than eighty years ago, my great-grandfather, Salvador Bertucci, and his best friend, Ben Mitchell (who started his life as Blaise Mangiaracina, but changed his name at Ellis Island because he didn’t think he’d be able to get work with such an Italian name) began selling produce in Shed One at Eastern Market, Detroit’s historic public market. Mitchell and his family started a farm south of Detroit when they first arrived, which is where they grew the produce to sell. Their stand quickly became one of the busiest produce stands in the market, and continues to be today, thanks to loyal, long-term customers. The success of the stand allowed my
Nonno
(grandfather) Sal to expand Bertucci Produce into two freestanding grocery stores, which were currently run by Uncle Sal and Papa. It also allowed Mitchell Family Farms to relocate to Monroe, Michigan, and grow into one of the largest farms in the state. The Bertucci and Mitchell clans had been like one family for years.
    Until three years ago. When one of the Mitchell boys I considered family raped me at a college party.
    “He’ll be at Three-one-three.”
    “Wait. What?” The horror in my voice slipped out. I’d just warned Drew to shut it and I couldn’t rein it in myself.
    Mom lifted her eyes to me. “He’ll be at the new store.”
    Papa chose Joey to take over for him at 313 Artisans?
Joey?
The new store opened only six months ago. Joey had never set foot in it. Why would my parents think letting him run it would be a good idea? Drew had a better chance at running it than Joey had.
    “I’m the one who’s started the store with Papa. I know every inch of that store.”
    Mom toyed with the string of colorful, chunky beads at her neck. “He’ll figure it out. I’m sure it’s what your father wants.”
    “Figure it out? We don’t—”
    Drew stood up and kicked my leg. Hard. I doubled over and grabbed my shin, rubbing the bone as if that would ease the pain. “Let’s go get some drinks. Need a water, Mom?”
    “Grab me a coffee, please.”
    Drew nodded. When I rose from my chair and took a step, my kicked leg buckled under me. Drew threw his arm out and caught me, propping me up until I could walk on my own.
    “Jerk,” I said, but didn’t refuse leaning on his shoulder for the next few steps until the pain subsided.
    “You deserved it. You were going to get into a huge fight with Mom and get her more upset than she already is. Plus, you know there’s no way in hell Papa’s gonna let Joey run the new store. Just let it all play out.”
    Drew had a good point. Mom and Papa would never trust the store to Joey. Firstborn son or not, Papa would never put our family’s brand-new, faltering business in the hands of an irresponsible, pot-smoking wannabe ski instructor.
    Joey, being Joey, didn’t answer any texts from me or Drew. He didn’t tell either of us when his flight was getting in. Nor did he tell either of us if he needed a ride from the airport to the hospital. So we were surprised when he sauntered into Papa’s room just after noon the next day.
    “Joey!” Mom cried. She threw her arms around him as if he were Mighty Mouse, here to save the day.
    “Hey, Mom.” Joey returned her hug. He gave me a slight nod over Mom’s shoulder.
    I would’ve nodded back, but my brain was murky from the contact high I received when he’d walked in the door. I swear I could see a cloud around him, like Pig-Pen from
Peanuts,
except he emitted a haze of smoke rather than dust. The stench was so powerful, he must’ve smoked a