Page 97 of Effortless

Tom cleared his throat. “Fine.”

“I don’t think so—something’s different with you since you got back. I’m not the first person to notice it. A mood, Adriano tells me.”

Tom shot his uncle a look. Beside him, Adriano pretended like he hadn’t seen or heard a thing. Asshole.

“Adriano should learn to keep his mouth shut,” Tom said, shrugging.

“I take it you’re not going to fill me in on whatever is bothering you, then?”

“It won’t make a difference if I do.”

Tommas nodded, and stood from the table. “All right, son. Enjoy your breakfast.”

His father left the table, and headed to his own where his underboss and front boss were waiting with their food. It was another twenty minutes, after tribute had been paid and the men were well into eating, before Tommas spoke again.

“Marty, I heard you’re having some kind of problem with another Capo. Care to fill me in?”

Tommas’s voice carried over the chattering Capos in the restaurant. Instantly, the men quieted, and looked to Tom’s father. A few glanced between the Capo Tommas had called out, and the boss himself. One or two glanced at Tom before looking away.

It made him think Marty had probably been running his mouth a bit. Not that it would be a surprise.

“No, boss,” Marty said from two tables away from where Tom sat with Adriano and another Capo. “There’s no need, really.”

“Can I assume the issue has been corrected, then?” Tommas asked.

No.

Not even close.

Tom kept quiet just to see what Marty would say.

“I can’t say the issue has been fixed,” the balding, bulging Capo replied, “but I can’t say a conversation here would fix it, either.”

Tom’s father tipped his head to the side like he was considering the man’s words. “And why is that, Marty?”

“Well, I suppose to start—”

“Do you think I’m not objective when it comes to my men and their issues?” Tommas asked, not even giving the older Capo a chance to speak.

“I didn’t say that, boss. I was going to say—”

“How you already went to Theo, and were told to take the offer the other Capo offered because it was a better deal—far more—than any other Capo would have given you, considering?”

Marty cleared his throat, and his gaze shifted to where Tom sat. “I don’t mean to be rude, boss, but—”

“You should know by now, and at your age no less, that adding a but into a sentence you start with “I don’t mean to be rude” actually means you very much intend to be rude, Marty.”

“I … my apologies.”

Tommas cocked a brow, but never once did his gaze leave the older Capo. He didn’t single Tom out, or even make it seem like his son was involved at all. While Tom was almost certain there were a few Capos in the room who knew that the other Capo his father meant was him, he appreciated the way his father was handling the issue.

At the same time, he really didn’t need his father to handle it.

Tom could do it.

He certainly didn’t need anyone thinking he needed his father to come to his rescue, either. He didn’t think that would do any good for him at the end of the day.

“My offer still stands, Marty,” Tom said, joining the conversation. “Twenty percent for the truck being on your territory, as it always is, and another five percent on top of that for the misunderstanding you think we had.”