“I have an idea,” I say as I sit down.
“You usually do,” he retorts.
“Mrs. Giuliani is hosting a charity event this weekend. We need tickets.”
“We?”
“You and me, we’re going. These assholes might refuse to see me in their offices, but if we’re seated at their table at an event, there’s no escaping us.”
“And how do you think you’re going to be able to be seated at their table?”
“I’m going to make a huge donation, obviously.” I pick up the pink concoction in front of me and take a healthy gulp of the icy cold liquid. It tastes like pure syrup. Delicious. “I don’t know what this is, but it’s good.”
“That’s half-filled with tequila. You should take it slow,” Angus tells me.
“It’s as if you don’t even know me.” I smirk as I suck the liquid through the straw, not stopping until the cup is almost empty. I don’t like being told what to do. It makes me insanely rebellious.
“Oh, I know you,” Angus says. “You want me to get tickets to this event?”
“Yes, please.” I nod but he wasn’t really looking for my answer. He’s already tapping away on his iPad.
“Shit,” he hisses.
“What?”
“You’re not going to like this,” he says.
“Why?”
“It’s sold out.”
I blink. “Fine. I’ll go right to the source.” I shrug, standing as I take another big gulp of my drink before picking up my bag.
Angus stands with me. “What’s the plan?”
“I happen to know for a fact that Mrs. Giuliani is currently in the ballroom. I’m going to go and offer her a donation she won’t be able to refuse in exchange for a ticket to the event.”
“Oh, so a simple one, then? Just walk right up to the wife of the city’s mob boss.” Angus chuckles.
“If you’re scared, you don’t have to follow me,” I tell him.
“My job depends on you being alive, so you bet your pretty little ass I’m following you into the lion’s den to make sure you walk out in one piece.”
“Pfft, I’m not afraid of them.” I shake my head. It’s comical how much people believe the rumors.
“You should be,” Angus says. “I’ve heard things.”
I have no idea where the ballroom is, but then I see someone who can help me. Hopefully. “I’ve got an idea,” I whisper to Angus.
“Oh, good,” he mutters with an eye roll.
My glare locks on Hudson Giuliani. He’s alone now. I have no idea where his little posse of pals went, but I don’t care.
“Hi, Hudson, right?” I offer him a well-practiced smile.
His back straightens as he eyes me up and down, and then his gaze falls onto Angus behind me. “Do I know you?” he asks.
“No, I’m Molly. A friend of your mother’s. Well, not really a friend, but I was supposed to meet her to go over some final details for this weekend’s gala. Could you guide me to where I can find the ballroom?”
