The concierge greeted me with a smile, but I barely gave him a glance before heading up in the elevator. Too many things were on my mind, and I had to refocus my attention on the important matters.
Finding my father sitting at the table by the window, I watched him look up at me as I entered the room. His expression was guarded, and it gutted me to see that. We’d always been as close as two people could be, especially after we lost Mom and went from a family of four down to the three of us.
“Do you recognize him?” I asked without preamble, pulling the picture out of my inner coat pocket and handing it over.
Frowning at me, he took the photo. Once he’d given it a cursory glance, he said, “Of course I recognize Alessandro Lombardi.”
“And the other man?” I prompted.
Looking between me and the picture, the corners of his mouth turned down. “No. Am I supposed to?”
That had basically been my response to Gio, and yet it irked me that Dad would say the same thing. What I needed was a breakthrough, not more of the same runaround. “We’re trying to identify the man Lombardi claims is the next big boss in this town.”
“Who is he to make such a bold claim?”
“Yeah, that’s what we’d like to figure out. The more the Lombardis run their mouths, the more likely I am to think they’re the ones targeting us.”
“I’m inclined to think the same.”
Snatching the back of the other chair, I sat heavily beside him. “Why, though? What have we done to them?”
“Not a thing. Honestly, I can’t think of anything egregious, even before we made the peace treaty. We had a bit of tit for tat going on back in the day, but nothing earth-shattering.”
I recalled the things he’d told me about from before I became of age. He and the elder Lombardi, Oscar, had fucked with each other’s deals and shipments, spied on underbosses, and tried to steal product. When Alex took over five years ago, he reached out to Dad to make a deal. We’d back off each other’s territoriesand stop trying to one-up the other family just for the shits and giggles. Now, we stayed out of their way, and they stayed out of ours.
“Oscar is on his deathbed, isn’t he? That’s why Alex took over.”
“Yes, but he’s been hanging on for years. I haven’t spoken to him in quite a while, but I could reach out to him personally.”
I rubbed my temples. “Wouldn't Alex view that as offensive? He’s the one in charge now.”
“But I wouldn't be treating it as a boss-to-boss conversation. Just checking in on his health, from one old geezer to another.”
“Please, you’re only fifty-eight, whereas Oscar is eighty. Besides, you’ve proven to not be as much of a geezer as I thought a week ago.”
Dad shrugged. “I stopped being stupid. I had given up, but then I saw the light.”
“Clearly not the one at the end of the tunnel.” Standing, I walked to the window and looked down at Central Park. I couldn't see the people from that height, but I knew they were down there enjoying themselves. Ice skating, shopping, or just enjoying the crisp air. They led such simple lives compared to the life and death going on up here. “Sailor said to tell you hi.”
“You spoke to her?” he asked, sounding entirely too happy about that.
“I asked her to prove to me you weren't lying about your health.”
Behind me, I heard him push the chair back. Then I heard him walk toward me, though he was very quiet when he moved. “You wound me, Nero.”
Without turning, I said, “The only way to fight is dirty, remember?”
“What reason would I have for faking an illness?” he responded.
“To test me.”
“Ever since your first hit eighteen years ago, you’ve made me proud. I have no reason to test your ability to do the job.”
The nagging headache was trying to come back. It seemed as though it reared up every day now, since my father ended up in the hospital the first time.
“Sailor cares about you.” And why did that matter to me so much? “I need you to not play around with her emotions.”
As I faced him, I didn’t miss the way his smile flickered before he smoothed his features out. “Of course not. I care about her too, and wouldn't do that to her.”
