Frankie returns with my drink, and I sip it, giving him a smile.
“We’re playing pool in the billiard room,” he suggests, offering me his arm.
“Thank you,” I say, accepting the invitation.
CHAPTER 12
FRANCISCO
Edoardo leans over and whispers in my ear. “She’s here.”
I nod slightly, not dropping my poker face. While the rest of the house is full of influential people having a good time, I’m stuck in my office where the real work is being done. The party is just a front, a way to invite all my capos at one time.
It’s like a staff meeting, only on the wrong side of the law. We can’t very well rent out a hotel conference room or a convention center for our business. Instead, I’ve got to piggyback on seemingly innocent events, like this impromptu party for my scatterbrained son.
I started out the night by welcoming guests, acting like the proud father. But as soon as all the capos and select soldiers were assembled, we moved to the office where we could talk in private. I don’t want to admit I’ve been waiting for Marlena to arrive, but now that Edoardo’s informed me she’s here, I can’t wait to get out and see her.
“What are we gonna do about Andretti?” one of my capos says.
“Have you broken any kneecaps?” Giovanni asks.
There are a few glances I can read like last Sunday’s newspaper. Nobody wants to start a street war. Diplomacy is needed. That’s why they’re coming to me instead of handling it themselves.
“I’m working on it,” I say. War is bad for everyone, especially if it brings the heat down on our heads. I’ll just have to get creative, and I’m not above busting heads. “If there’s nothing else,” I begin, standing up.
“I was wondering if I could talk to you privately,” one of my soldiers asks, blocking my path to the door.
I raise an eyebrow, wondering what is making him so bold. “You can talk in front of everyone,” I offer.
The man squirms, wringing his hands before finally spitting it out. “My old lady’s gonna lose her home.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say, though I don’t really understand what that has to do with me.
“I was wondering if I could talk to the bank manager,” he continues. “Maybe help him see the light.”
“You have my permission,” I say.
“Thanks, boss,” he responds, relaxing.
“I appreciate you asking,” I announce to the room, making sure everyone knows what’s at stake. “You can’t go off half-cocked by yourself following personal vendettas. You understand?”
“Understood,” someone says.
“Understood,” another capo agrees.
Around the room, there’s a chorus of agreement. I nod my head, feeling like we’re at a breaking point. “Excuse me, I’m going to make the rounds.”
Nobody stops me as I ease my way out of the soundproof room. In the rest of the house, people are laughing and drinking, having a good time. I plaster a smile on my face, shaking hands as I go. Everyone wants to see me about something, but there’s only one person I’m looking for.
I don’t see her anywhere. The party’s downstairs, so I’m sure she’s not in any of the rooms on the second floor. I check the patio, the living room, the parlor, and the kitchen. Dozens of people plant themselves in front of me, vying for my attention.
It’s not until I poke my head into the billiard room that I find her. She’s standing next to Frankie, with a glass of champagne in her hand. She looks stunning. I was sure that dress was the one, and seeing it hugging her magnificent curves, I knew I was right.
She doesn’t see me at first, and I take the moment to appreciate the view. A few of Frankie’s friends circle the table, debating their next shots. Frankie’s not touching Marlena, but the two of them are standing close together. I can tell from the stiffness in her spine that she’s uncomfortable.Maybe I can do something about that,I think, as I move more fully into the room.
Everyone turns as the door swings shut. Frankie nods, and his friends straighten up. They aren’t my employees, but they’re acting as if the boss just stepped into the room. I don’t mind. In fact, I appreciate the respect.
Marlena’s eyes find mine, and she smiles. She looks away almost immediately, but then she does that thing that women dowhen they’re nervous. She glances down at the floor, her lashes lowered. But she’s keeping track of me as I close in on her.
