Page 47 of Pink

Lev sighed. “No, boss. Just … traffic. Other shit. I’m here—won’t be late ever, you have my word.”

A noise of consideration echoed from across the room but otherwise, Andino offered nothing else. That was until he took another look at Lev.

“Is your shirt … pink?”

Fucking hell.

Lev held in his irritation. “Yep.”

“Why?”

“Laundry error.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Andino said in a chuckle.

“Tell me about it.”

His boss didn’t have the opportunity to say more on the shirt topic because footsteps approached from behind followed by a loud, “Andino! Your uncle always knows how to make a trip to New York worth it when I get to do my business with you.”

Lev didn’t even bother to glance over his shoulder before he stepped aside to let the approaching men pass him by without any issue on his part. Really, he tried not to be a bother at all when Andino did business—simply a presence people understood was always there. Either because they couldn’t look away once they did notice him, or because he was impressionable in size and one tended to notice those things.

Otherwise, he didn’t invite attention or conversation. Not by joining or pretending like he might or even that he wanted to be—people seemed to get the hint. Andino liked that just fine. So did Lev.

“DeLuca,” Andino replied, his tone as kind as Lev had ever heard it when he spoke to another human inside the walls of this restaurant. Or outside of it, for that matter.

Chicago.

DeLuca.

It sounded familiar to Lev as he sized up the guy who greeted Andino in the middle of the room. It wasn’t often he witnessed Andino actually stand and shake someone’s hand because he always seemed to like to let people know they weren’t even worth his time to get up and say hello. Not this man, though.

He stood up for him.

They offered hands at the same time to shake, too.

“And we both know,” Andino said, grinning, “the only reason I entertain your business is that you’re one of the very few people in Chicago that my father gives a fuck about, Theo. How’s the wife?”

“Beautiful.”

“Good to hear it.”

“Speaking of Gio, how is he?” the man asked Andino. “Been a while since I sat down for dinner with him.”

“Sends his regards to his old friend but he’s busy with my mother this weekend, so we won’t be seeing him while you’re here.”

“Shame.” Then, the man named Theo turned a bit on his heels to face Lev standing against the wall. While he hadn’t moved to acknowledge the newcomer or the two men who followed him into the room and took posts at both sides, not interfering with his position at all, the man from Chicago clearly took note of him. “And this is—he’s new, isn’t he?”

“He is,” Andino said.

“You have a name?” Theo asked Lev.

“He has a job to do,” Andino replied before Lev could say anything. “And we have business to discuss, right?”

Theo gave Lev a second look, as though he were giving him the chance to deny Andino and tell him his name. He didn’t. Instead, he stared the man in the eye and shrugged, offering no words at all.

If the man who signed his check said he didn’t have a name to give, then he didn’t have a fucking name. Simple as that.

“Next time, Mr. …” Theo trailed off, giving him another look though his gaze lingered on the pop of color under his blazer. He gave a grin and a light laugh, “Mr. Pink—yeah, that’ll work for now. Next time, though, you’ll have to tell me your name.”

Lev couldn’t help but give a sigh. Mostly because laughter echoed around the room. He even heard Petey’s muffled laughter from outside the space. Some days, these guys could be real pricks. He had to admit, though …

He kind of respected it.

Pretty typical.

Another day at work.

Even if now, typical meant everything had changed.