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Chapter Twelve
Isat in my meetingdoodling as Roberto and Santini, one of our top men, discussed the past week's numbers. It had been more than a week since the Saint’s game, and we’d had a blast. I found myself missing Diamond and wanting that normalcy anytime she wasn’t with me. I’d developed a strong case of wanderlust. Wanting...no need to be anywhere but here.
“Gianni...Gianni? We need your opinion.” Roberto sounded frustrated.
“Yeah?” I asked and quickly answered, “I’m not worried about the numbers. Everything slows down at the end of the summer and will pick back up around the Voodoo Festival.”
“These numbers are lower than usual.”
“So...we are more than making what we lost in the casino. Soon we’ll be making enough to shut operations down, and we will be rich.”
Santini added, “The numbers are low, which also concerns me. I mean, I don’t think anyone is stealing. People are just not buying.”
Roberto drummed his knuckles against the table. “Or they have another seller.”
“Santini? What does the block say?”
“Nothing right now. No one is in our areas except our peeps.”
“Keep your ears and nose to the ground. We’ll see how September pans out before we start accusing our people or other gangs. Offer your people a five percent pay increase and see if they’ll hustle more.” I walked to the already unlocked safe and pulled out five one thousand bills. I tossed the stacks on the table. “This is an incentive for you. There’s more if we see an increase next week. Show me you can get more out of your people, then you may have a position here at the casino if you want it.”
“I like how you talking.” Santini picked up the money with a huge grin. He was several years younger than Roberto and me but a good soldier and level-headed. No problem with doing what told, and the college boys and punks who sold drugs for us, reported directly to him. He then brought all money and information from the streets to Roberto. My focus had always been on expanding us into legitimate enterprises.
Roberto sank back in his chair. “You want Santini in the casino? Then what will be my role if we’re not in the streets?”
“The casino or whatever business you want, Roberto. We are millionaires. We can do whatever the fuck we want.” I looked at Santini. “No worries, you’re on the verge of millions too. You’ve been good to us, and we always reward good men.”
“Boss, I’m with you no matter what. If you want to go completely legit, I’m down. Or if you want me to still run the streets. Whatever, I’m your dude.” He then stood. “I need to run. Wifey is on me about eating dinner with the family.”
“Give Telly my love.” We dapped, and he left whistling.
Roberto accused once we were alone. “She’s getting to you.”
“Who’s getting to me?”
He shook his head. “You don’t think I know you fucking Diamond. She got your head in the clouds and some shit.”
“What I do in my personal time is what I do in my personal time. I don’t get involved with all the kinky shit you’re into.” At his gaped mouth, I smiled triumphantly. “I know about you too. So please spare me a fucking lecture about who I’m fucking.”
“What I do doesn’t affect the business?”
“Someone find out your preferences; trust me, it will.”
He shot up. “Are you threatening me?”
