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“That’s the main reason!” Finn exclaimed. “He’s too removed from the Sons these days. I wanna bring him back in. His experience would make him an excellent adviser, but he needs to calm his fucking tits first. Not every day at the office is a shootout where someone dies.”
Fuck my life.
I gnashed my teeth and stepped on the gas to steal a parking spot before the Toyota in front of me could snag it. I was in no mood to drive around the block looking for a spot.
The Toyota driver rolled down his window. “Asshole!”
Finn felt the need to roll down his window too, just as I killed the engine. “It’s time to move on, mate! The spot doesn’t love you back!”
It wasn’t the Toyota driver’s day.
It wasn’t my day either, clearly.
Finn and I left the car and crossed the street, and these days I was always a little more eager to get him from Point A to Point B quickly. Even if our streets hadn’t been this safe in a long time, we’d been blindsided before.
Plus, the fuckin’ heat… Unless I had a beach ten feet away, I wasn’t interested in the summer.
Ironically, Finn’s favorite restaurant to host his weekly sit-downs was an Italian place, though it was run by an Irish-Italian. Our table was always secured in a small private dining room, and the head chef’s two sons were affiliated. Here, we could relax and eat great food.
If only I were in a better mood.
After an appropriate amount of ass-kissing, the host showed us to our private room and had two servers following to take our drink orders and tell us the chef’s specials.
“Well, I haven’t eaten since breakfast, and the wife is cooking vegetarian tonight, so I’m counting on you guys,” Finn said, scooting in his chair. “We’ll start with a couple appetizers, I reckon?” He glanced at me.
I inclined my head.
We were gonna be here a few hours, so I might as well eat my body weight in carbs.
The sit-downs I’d started hosting every other week as per the schedule Alfie was in charge of were less glamorous. It was essentially me having lunch at Mick’s, and associates came in and got a few minutes to discuss their issues.
“Who’s first today?” Finn asked.
“JJ.” I nodded in thanks as a server poured me a glass of wine and set a bottle of water on the table. “I hope he remembered to bring my birthday gift for Shan.”
“Please don’t outshine me this year again.”
I chuckled. “Tier 1 balcony seats for the Philadelphia Orchestra.”
He clenched his jaw and tore a piece of bread. “You motherfucker. And they’re doing Mozart’s Requiem in D minor right now.”
Exactly. Shannon’s favorite mass.
Finn shook his head, annoyed. “In my defense, I’ve been swamped. Two years ago, there was a wedding and a funeral. Last year, I was balls deep in a war.”
I smirked. All I heard were lame excuses. I’d fought the same damn war, and I was his fucking driver the year before that. Wherever he’d gone, I’d gone—when I hadn’t been busy babysitting the twins in Chicago.
“What’re you and Emilia giving him?” I asked.
“I don’t know yet! It’s not for another two weeks. But now I know it’s gotta be better than that shit. Christ.”
That brightened my mood a bit at least.
It was obvious Shan hadn’t expected me home so early.
He quickly gathered some tissues from the coffee table, wiped his cheeks, and excused himself to go to the bathroom.
I released a breath, bizarrely relieved he hadn’t texted me about meeting up tonight. In the kitchen, I emptied my bag o’ findings from the market and found bowls for everything. Nachos in one, kettle-cooked salt and vinegar chips in another, sliced Bierwurst onto a plate, then guacamole, salsa, and a cup of hot queso blanco into this tapas dish with three sections I’d once borrowed from Luna’s place.
I kept listening for Shannon to reappear from the bathroom, because if he made a move to retire to the guest room early, I was going to put my foot down. At the same time, I didn’t wanna rush him, so I decided to bring all the snacks to the living room and take a shower before I pounced.
There had to be something I could do.
Finn thought I should bring him to France…
Oh, there was a giant part of me that wanted the same, which was the entire problem. I couldn’t keep chasing moments with Shan. If I got the chance to get outta Philly for a month, I should do so to try to get my shit together.
Because that will work, idiot.
When I had nothing else to do and Shan was still sniffling in the bathroom, I went ahead and took that shower.
I yawned and stepped under the hot spray, and I made quick work of the bandage on my side. Shan had removed the stitches this week, and it was healing nicely. The scar wouldn’t be too visible.
