Chapter Nine
Brantley pulled up to the Italian restaurantthat Max had directed them to, feeling a sense of foreboding as soon as he tracked the seven men positioned around the place.That was only what he could see from the front.He figured there were several in the back as well.All of them were dressed in black from head to toe, their uniforms very similar to Brantley’s everyday casual wear.
They all wore weapons on holsters at their hip, and he got the feeling these guys weren’t amateurs.They were alert, not on edge.Not once did they abandon their post.
Interesting.
“He’s beefed up security, huh?”
“Looks like it,” Reese muttered.“They’re gonna pat us down.”
“No, they’re not.”Brantley refused to kowtow to this asshole.Sure, Adorite had a reasonable expectation of safety in his own home, but here, in public, he wasn’t going to get Brantley’s full cooperation.And he damn sure wasn’t going to get his weapon.
“And if they do?”
“They won’t,” he told Reese.“Let’s get this over with.”
Once out of the truck, Brantley ensured his weapon was visible as he approached the two guys flanking the front doors.
One of the two spoke softly with a hand to his ear, likely to engage a microphone on the earwigs they were wearing.
A moment later, the bigger of the two stepped forward.“Arms out.”
“Sorry, guy.I’m not here to get felt up by one of Max’s goons.I’ve got my holstered nine, a clutch piece at my ankle, and two knives you won’t have a chance to see.As for the dog, she doesn’t need a weapon.She is one.And if I had to guess, my husband’s got his Glock and likely a clutch piece—a twenty-two, probably.I don’t know for sure because I haven’t had a chance to frisk him since I’m here to talk to your boss.But trust me, once I check that off my list of shit to do, I plan to go back to my hotel and do a very thorough strip search of this man right here.”He pointed toward Reese and exhaled, still holding that inky black stare.“Now, I’d appreciate it if you’d let us in so we can get this over with.As you can see, I’ve got something far more exciting on my agenda tonight.”
The two goons looked at each other.The one who had remained back by the doors lifted his hand to his ear again.A moment later, he nodded, both of them stepping aside to allow them through.
“Huh.Whad’ya know,” he said as they walked into the restaurant.“It worked.”
Expecting a response from Reese, Brantley looked over.He saw how red the tips of Reese’s ears were and knew he was fighting the blush.
“It’s okay, baby.I got it outta my system.I promise to be on my best behavior for the next…” He looked at his watch.“Ten minutes, at least.”
Reese snorted.
The moment they stepped into the main dining room, a dozen men shifted into a stronger position around the perimeter of the space.
“They’re not a threat,” Max called out, getting to his feet and walking over to meet them.“I hear you’ve got plans later.”
Brantley smirked, knowing that Reese’s face was likely beet red.
“Are we the first ones here?”he asked, knowing they were, but wanting to get this underway.He wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries or chit-chat.
“Three more just arrived.Travis called, said he’d be a few minutes late, and to start without him.”
Interesting.The man hellbent on being there was now MIA.Hmm.
“Have a seat.”Max stepped back and gestured toward the table that was set with linens and silverware, glasses and plates.“At the very least, you can eat.”
“You cleared out the place, huh?”
“Not hard to do when you own it,” he said dismissively, remaining on his feet as sounds came from the front.
Brantley took a moment to study Max.It still stunned him how young the guy was.When you think ofmob boss, the images that come to mind were derived from movies and television.Most of those guys had age backing their experience.For Max, at thirty-six, he’d been the head of his family for going on a decade.What twenty-six-year-old could successfully run an illegal enterprise and make it considerably more profitable than when under its previous leader?Then again, his training would’ve come from childhood.
A few minutes later, Archer, Atticus, and Simon strolled in, none looking any worse for wear.Brantley could tell they’d been relieved of their weapons if they’d been carrying.He assumed they had because Atticus had been trained to keep his weapon with him at all times when working.Now Brantley needed to work on ensuring the kid learned how not to give it up if at all possible.
Max greeted each in turn, the four of them exchanging personal introductions.Brantley didn’t even bother getting to his feet.He wasn’t here to get cozy with a mob boss.
