“Good, then we can both get dressed, have breakfast, and visit Sonny.”
“Finch—”
“No, don’tFinchme. We agreed. We’re rainbow life-partners, remember? Partners in everything.” He gives me this look that I find infuriating, like I don’t really understand what I’m asking. “I’m your consigliere,” I insist. “Ifanyoneshould be in that room with you and Sonny, it’s me.”
“We’ll talk about it later,” he calls as he heads to the bathroom.
“Sure, honey,” I call back. “You can try.”
* * *
The breakfast bar,which runs 24 hours, is possibly my idea of heaven. Anything, and I mean anything, is on offer, from pancakes and waffles to congee and noodles. I stuff myself on beignets and croissants, then go a savory round of eggs over easy on chunky sourdough toast with a side of bubble tea.
Luca has black coffee and biscotti, and restrains himself from making any comment on my own choices.
“We need to figure out the lay of the land,” I say, wiping egg from my mouth.
“Yes.”
“What made you think Sonny was safe?”
“Shh.” He shuts me down with one abrupt syllable, but I see his point. We’re in the middle of a crowded room and anyone could hear. But that's the point. There's too much background noise for anyone toreallyhear us. Still, I keep my mouth shut, and Luca changes the subject to the shopping possibilities in the nearby mall.
As we’re finishing up, Fernando the concierge appears again and gives a little bow. “Is there anything I can do for you today, gentlemen?”
Luca eyes him as though he’s considering the subtext of the words. “Actually, yes. I'd like to see our host if he's available.”
Under the table, I kick his shin.
Luca sighs. “Bothof us would like to see our host.”
“Of course, sir. As soon as you're finished with your breakfast—”
“We’re finished now,” I say, not wanting to give Luca a time to think through the wisdom of his decision.
Fernando touches his ear, like he’s considering my words.
“Then Mr. Vegas will be delighted to see you now,” he says, and stands aside to let us out of the booth. As I go past, I glance in his ear and confirm my suspicion. He’s wearing an earpiece.
We follow him back through the lobby of the hotel, behind the desk and into the back rooms. There’s a private elevator into which he waves us, and then says, “The Penthouse, gentlemen.”
When Luca just stares at the button markedPenthouse, as though it's going to start hissing poison gas, I lean across him and push it myself. Then I take his hand and give it a squeeze.
At the top, the elevator doors open out on a small lobby, and directly opposite us is possibly the largest man I've ever seen, with an equally large gun slung over his shoulder. At our appearance, he takes it into his hands, but thankfully, doesn't point it at us.
Luca pushes me behind him and this is the first time I've wished that Marco and Angelo could’ve been here with us. But that thing the guy is holding could mow through concrete, never mind bodyguards. The giant gives Luca a polite nod. Luca unnecessarily adjusts his collar, and the giant’s eyes stray to the Morelli ring on Luca’s finger.
“Mr. Black,” he says politely. He knocks on the door directly behind him twice, then three more times, and steps aside as it opens, to let us through.
There’s another guy inside, not quite as huge, but just as scary-looking as far as I'm concerned, tatted up all over every bit of skin, even his face. He doesn't stop us either, simply turns away and expects us to follow him through.
Sonny Vegas lives in this penthouse suite. He has an almost panoramic view of the city through floor-to-ceiling windows, and there’s a fully-stocked circular bar in the center of the room. That's exactly where Sonny is now, mixing what looks like Bloody Marys, watched closely by a stacked blonde in a white negligee. She looks like the love child of Marilyn Monroe and Anna Nicole Smith, with maybe a little Charlize Theron mixed in around the eyes, based on the ball-shriveling glare she sends our way.
“Therethey are!” Sonny brays. “Amanda, honey, why don't you go and put on something decent?”
Amanda stalks out of the bar and off to a door behind which, I assume, the bedroom is situated.
“She doesn’t like strangers,” Sonny says. “Can I offer you a drink?”
