“And the drop-off?”
Behind me, Aunt Marion clears her throat. “Joseph. Sam has work to do.”
“Just a moment, per favore, Mia Tia.” My cousin kisses both her cheeks and his Italian does it’s magic, as it has since we were kids.
“Ancora un minuto.” Smiling, she closes the door.
After, his face scrunches up in thought. “I left the package in midtown.”
“What bridge?”
“Triborough.”
“You sure?”
“Shit.” His eyes bug out as a tinted-window limo slows in the street in front of us. He bolts down an alleyway next to the Chinese take-out place, ending my interrogation.
The backseat glass rolls down and Little Tony’s son, Big Tony, smiles. “Well, if it ain’t Sammy Russo. Say hi to yourfamigliafor me.”
Before I correct his use of my maiden name, the vehicle speeds away. This is bad and not because he missed my wedding. Blood pumping, I race inside to the multiple-customer pile-up.
“We need to talk.” Rose points the barrel of her hairdryer at my chest as I run by. The oldest of all the Brooklyn cousins, it’s her job to keep us in line and today, I crossed it multiple times.
Chapter 5
Sebastian
A knot forms in my gut and a tingling in my spine runs down my leg to my right big toe. Fuck. My early warning system tells me some shit somewhere is about to hit the fan.
“Thanks Tom. We’ll talk soon.” As much as I’d like to watch his Superbowl team practice, I shake hands and stride off the muddy field.
Jogging to my SUV, I plop down and shut the door. With the grunts and groans of their workout muted, I check Sam’s GPS and heave a sigh of relief. She’s safe and sound, right where she’s supposed to be, in her Aunt Marion’s salon. To be sure, I view her in the camera I installed a while back, surprised she’s washing hair as if nothing is amiss.
Huh. My spidey senses are almost never off. Maybe, my unease has to do with the new case Slate gave us. I scroll through the initial intel and whistle through my teeth. There’s a whole lot of zeros in the couple’s net worth.
Not wanting my boss to know I’m calling about my wife, I share my morning meeting’s success. “I’m sending you Tom’s personal assistant’s email address. They want to start negotiating immediately.”
“Who knew?” My friend pauses, allowing me the setup.
“Knew what?”Wait for it….
“Your evil superpower can be used for the greater good.”
I snicker. “You must not be referring to my masterful skill with words? My musical manipulations of the English language, my record-breaking-”
“Stop.” He chuckles. “In all seriousness, I want you to do more sales calls. We’ve been trying to reel in the NFL for ages.”
Smiling, I turn the key and rev my engine. “Yup. I got him. Hook, line, and sinker. Hey, before you hang up, you got a moment? I got a question about the wealthy couple you sent our way.”
“Shoot.”
“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, but to me, it looks like a pretty straight forward case. The Whitbreads hired a surrogate mother and she changed her mind. What do they thinkSuds and Samcan do? Force her to change it back? As much as I’d like the money, we don’t strongarm pregnant ladies.” Car in drive, I crisscross the almost empty stadium parking lot, stop at the guard’s booth, and hand over my license.
“The wife, Melissa, thinks her best friend is being coerced.” His voice switches to the car’s speaker when I switch to Bluetooth.
Hands free, I open my iPad and swipe through the pages. “It says here they went to the Feds who said there was nothing they could do.”
“That’s when Mr. Whitbread changed tactics and called Sam’s father. He gave up arguing and recommended they contact a private security agency.”
