“Don’t rush on my account. I have time.”
He nodded. “There hasn’t been much noise from this end.”
“No,” I said. “It seemed to fall right back into my palm. However.” I lifted a finger and then took a sip from my own glass of whiskey. “I know what’s coming.”
“A wise man would know his odds before going into battle.”
“Ten to one.” I grinned.
“Ah,” he said, reaching for the glass again. “I’ll give you better odds than that. My grandfather and father were fond of your father. If you follow in his footsteps, I can assure you the same fondness will be passed down to you, as well. You will succeed where your father couldn’t.”
I lifted my glass. “That means a great deal to me.”
We clanked glasses and then drained the rest of the liquid.
I set my empty glass down on the desk. “I have every intention of following in my father’s footsteps. This area was his heart. His legacy will live on.”
“Spoken like a true poet and a good son.” Rocco grinned. Then he reached into his pocket and handed me a gold card with black scribble on it.
You owe me.
Mac
The card naturally slid between my pointer and middle finger, and I lifted them up so the card was facing him. I said one word. “Cormick.”
He nodded. “It is always wise to have an ally in times of war.”
Breaking eye contact, I stared at the card for a moment longer. “One I owe a favor.” Then I met his stare again.
He shrugged. “Business is business. We do what we must to close the deal.”
“To secure it,” I said.
“Neither here nor there. Rest assured. His intentions run parallel with yours, as long as your intentions stay true to course.”
It wasn’t always what was said in this business that made the difference—it washowit was said. The Faustis could be blunt if they wanted to, but the art of subtlety ran through their blood like a unique DNA.
Rocco’s words translated:As long as you don’t fuck us over, and whoever this Mac is, he’ll play nice with you. We’ll play nice with you.
Mac was offering me an easier way in, which meant that the Faustis, along with whoever this Mac was, wanted me where I was. But the question still stood: why? I knew better than to ask a dumb question that would go without an answer anyway.
Yeah, kids, there is such a thing as a stupid fucking question.
Rocco slid another card toward me. “You’ve earned your degree, Kelly. It’s been a while since you’ve seen the city. Dinner is on me.”
Macchiavello’s. I’d heard it was the new “it” restaurant in town. High-powered business suits and dresses dined there. So did numerous men who had numerous ranks in numerous connected families. Word on the street was that the steak was worth your first-born.
I lifted the card. “I’ll try the steak.”
“Excellent choice. They also make the best Old Fashioned in the city.”
I nodded. “Duly noted.” I lifted the card again. “I appreciate this.”
Rocco stood, fixing his suit as he did. I stood right after and held my hand out. We shook again, and it was as good as him leaning over the desk and kissing each of my cheeks. Then he gestured toward the door, inviting me to leave my office first.
Once we were outside and he was about to slide into the driver’s seat of his $500,000 car, I stopped him.
“Mac,” I said. “Any distinguishing marks I should know of?”
