“Is he where you got the money from?”
Mouth spluttering, I try to find a way to keep the charade going.
“You didn’t really save all that while working at the grocery store, did you?”
“And so what? Because I didn’t have a fancy job like you, I didn’t have the money to start the business? I got the money, isn’t that what matters?”
Slamming her eyes shut, she shakes her head back and then forth.
“No, Lexi.”
“Dad helped me. He’s a silent investor, all he did was chip in for the down payment. Get over it. This is why I didn’t tell you in the first place. I knew you wouldn’t let me.”
“It’s not that,” Rory whispers, genuine pain on her face.
“Then what?” I spit out, tired of her pauses.
“Lying on that grant form was fraud. Material misrepresentation and fraudulent disclosure, at the least. It automatically invalidates your grant, and, as the commissioner, I’m obligated to report it. You’re going to lose the restaurant, Lex.”
TWENTY-THREE
WILDER
“You look like you seen a ghost, boy, sit down.” The capo gestures to the couch next to him, a soldier I don’t recognize standing by his side, a bodyguard of sorts.
Wonder if that will be my job a couple months from now, or if I’ll have to work my way up there.
Lot of guys would feel safer with me at their backs.
“What, did you forget how to speak, boy?” The capo laughs, a husky almost-cackle that rakes goosebumps along my arms.
“No,” I say, clearing my throat, letting my accent thicken in the presence of a man who was like an uncle to me when I was growing up. “You just surprised me, that’s all.”
Pointing to the back room, I come up with an excuse on the fly.
“Had to wrap up a couple things here before I came back to the city to see you. Was on my way out of town actually.”
“Convenient that I got to you first then, isn’t it?” His accent masks thesin that word, sounded more likeitn’t it.
Lowering myself onto the nearest chair, I try to look welcoming. Not in the way the locals do here, but more like the faces I grew up around. Deferent, subservient, and willing to die on command.
“You didn’t have to come all the way out here for li’l ole’ me,” I try to keep it light.
He waves his wrinkled hand, the gold rings on it glinting in the lamplight. “Nice vacation for the old lady. Gorgeous mountains.” There’s norin the way he saysgorgeous.
I smile at him, while the ice drips in the cavity of my chest, chilling my gut.
“Besides, I wanted to see this restaurant you got yourself set up at.”
This is it, I tell myself.We bluff and bullshit our way out of this.
“It’s nothin’.” I shake my head. “Just a glorified line cook.”
“Head chef, Amante, that’s somethin’.”
“It’s just work,” I insist, desperate for him to not think anything of it.
“I had Marco go check it out while I meet with you,” he says, a smile on his face that could be either terrifying or heartwarming, depending on the scenario.
