I could tell by the type of question and his tone that my father had already had a drastic change in attitude about Wolfe. He spoke to him like Elio, allowed a dialogue to take place, when he normally just issued orders.
“With the Skull King trying to monopolize the drug empire, all the players in the game are changing their cards. It might be smart to expand our arms operations with their facilities and drop the coke business altogether.” Wolfe said all of it casually as he ate, like this wasn’t heavy talk over dinner. “I think there’s a major shakeup on the horizon. Doubling down on our corner of the market might be the smart way to go. Make sure we have an exclusive partnership with the Americans. And if they don’t want to be exclusive, we make them be exclusive.” He sliced off a shrimp tail with his fork and popped it into his mouth before he spun his fork in another pool of pasta.
“It’s always smart to diversify,” Elio said.
“And it’s smart to stay out of the Skull King’s way. The guy is crazy.” He took another bite of his bread. “I mean, crazier than me—and that’s saying something.”
I focused on my food as I listened to their conversation, relieved everyone was absorbed in a topic instead of watching Wolfe eye-fuck me across the table right in front of my father.
“You are diversified with your wine,” Wolfe said. “But do whatever you want. You’re the one in charge. I’m always ready to follow orders.”
One of the oddest things about Wolfe was the fact that he worked for someone else. He had the energy and the authority of someone in charge, and based on the way he’d handled Lombardi the other night, he seemed more like a leader than a follower. And he was the most arrogant man I’d ever met, completely egotistical, but he had no problem being told what to do. It didn’t make any sense.
When my father turned quiet, I knew he was really thinking about what Wolfe said.
Then my father turned his attention on me. “Frankie, I’m going to have you absorb the books for the Lombardis in the meantime. You’re better at making sense of other men’s nonsense than I am.”
“Sure,” I said, hoping I wouldn’t be alone with Wolfe at that location. It was nice that we had some space from each other during the workday. Because if we were alone and there was a solid piece of furniture in the room…that would be bad.
Wolfe continued to eat, unafraid to look at me all he wanted right in front of my father, like he dared him to say something.
I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stand it, feel the heat from Wolfe’s stare giving me third-degree burns on my cheeks and neck. Before Wolfe set foot on our property, my life had been predictable and mediocre, and while it had been boring at the time, I kinda missed it.
Because I hadn’t taken a single breath since.
Most of the men cleared out for the night. The staff cleaned up the tables and returned them to where they were supposed to be on the patio, which could easily accommodate a hundred people like a restaurant.
My father turned in for the night, my brother ran off with some of the other guys, and everyone slowly filed out.
I helped the staff clean up because there was so much to do. I brought a bin to the table and started to place the dirty wineglasses inside when someone came up beside me. A man’s tattooed hand reached forward and grabbed a couple glasses before he set them in the bin.
Wolfe.
“You don’t have to help.”
“Neither do you.” He grabbed the bin and held it as he walked with me, so I could quickly grab the glasses off the table and place them gently on top, stacking them. “But where you go, I go. So here we are.”
I continued to collect the glasses and set them in the bin while he held it, the increasing weight not seeming to bother him.
“Besides, maybe we can hook up in the cellar afterward.”
“Ah, there it is.”
He chuckled as he moved behind me. “Can you blame me? With an ass like that…”
I turned back around. “Keep your voice down. Some of the windows are open?—”
“With an ass like that,” he said loudly, grinning widely.
I smacked him on the arm. “You really are fucking crazy.”
“It’s what I’ve been saying,” he said, his dark eyes playful and so damn pretty. “Not my fault you didn’t believe me.”
After we finished collecting the wineglasses, Wolfe carried the tub into the house and set it on the kitchen island so the staff could wash them after they were done with the other dishes. When he came back, we collected the empty wine bottles so we could have them recycled tomorrow.
The last items left were the centerpieces and the olive oil bottles before the tables would be back to their normal, cleared state.
Wolfe came close to me, his arm brushing mine. “Meet me in the cellar.”
