“A friend,” Dante adds.
“A friend,” Ricardo repeats.
“Yes.”
“What friend?”
Dante’s jaw moves once. “Julia O’Brien.”
Ricardo’s eyes narrow. “The one who spent a couple of semesters in Naples when you two were in college?”
Dante gives him a look. “You remember that?”
“I remember many things.”
“Apparently.”
Ricardo’s gaze hardens. “She is also the daughter of Judge Patrick O’Brien here in Chicago. And if I remember correctly, she is engaged to some wealthy politician in Connecticut.”
Lorenzo sits back slightly.
Diego’s brow lifts, interest sharpening.
Ricardo watches his son with open suspicion now, though not hostility. Ricardo is too intelligent to miss what Dante is not saying.
“Why,” Ricardo asks slowly, “is a woman known for running charities and attending political events with her politician fiancé in Connecticut looking for work as an administrative assistant in Chicago?”
Dante’s voice is tight. “Because she is not engaged anymore and has moved back here.”
“That begs more questions, Dante.”
Dante sets his glass down with deliberate care. “She’s just looking for a quiet job. She is more than qualified. If you’re not interested,Zio, then we can move on.”
Silence follows.
Matteo glances at Tomasso.
Alessio looks from Dante to Edoardo, and Edoardo gives the smallest shake of his head.
Close, yes.
Close enough to know when not to interfere.
I study Dante.
His shoulders are square. His face gives little away. But there is anger beneath the surface. Not loud and careless. Dante rarely is. This anger is protective.
More and more interesting.
Lorenzo folds his hands together. “Her father is not only a judge. He is a powerful one.”
“Yes,” Ricardo says, still watching Dante. “With influence.”
“And he has been known to do business with people like us,” Lorenzo adds.
Diego’s mouth curves faintly. “People like us. How polite.”
Lorenzo ignores him. “It would be useful to have someone like O’Brien on our side.”
