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Soon, however, my phone rang, and when I answered, all I heard was cackling laughter.
“Hello?”
“Oh, fuck, ese, you are epic! Epic! Danny just called me after Theo called him. You threw him in with the pigs? I fucking love you! Danny loves you!”
I laughed as I said, “Javi.”
“Oh, man, he’s pissed. That little fucker is so mad; I’d watch him around the knives. Hide the knives, but damn, that was the best laugh I’ve had in years. Years!”
Glad I wouldn’t be killed, I set the mop in the bucket and said, “And he’s about to mop the floors.”
“Theo…cleaning? I thought you were crazy, but you’re insane. If you can get him to clean, you are getting a raise. Keep it up, man.”
He was still laughing hysterically as he ended the call, and I had to smile too. I turned to see Theo there, towel around his head like a turban, a robe the only thing covering the rest of him.
His eyes were narrowed at me, but he was pretty cocky. “I spoke to my cousin, the head of a powerful family business that loves to kill people that mess with us. He’s not pleased with you.”
“Oh? Well, that’s a shame.”
“A shame? Don’t you know my family? Maybe you should have done a little research on the people you’re working for.”
“Montello family, crime family trying to go legit, not quite there yet. The head of the family is Michael, like in The Godfather, but his second is the son, whom he couldn’t claim until after his father died. That one?”
Theo reddened but didn’t react otherwise. “So, you know. Well, my aunt is Michael’s wife. She has his ear, and all I have to do is speak to her.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He opened his mouth to scream but thought better, stepping backward.
“Exactly,” I said, then picked up the bucket, holding it out to him. “Let’s not pretend they’re coming to your rescue, Mr. Gentry, Thiago, Theo, whichever you want me to call you. This, me, I’m your rescue for now. So, take this bucket and mop and clean up the mud. Tomorrow, we’ll start working on these rooms.”
“I don’t clean!”
“I already said I’m?.”
“Not my housekeeper. Where can I hire one?”
“You can’t,” I said to him. “I don’t want many people I don’t know or trust around you. It’s not going to kill you to clean your own home.”
“This isn’t my home,” he declared haughtily.
I knew one thing. Three million was nothing to that family, and if it kept Theo contained and away from the business, they’d likely give it to him gladly. “It could be. Maybe start treating it like it is, at least for now. You take care of it; it’ll take care of you. Maybe you could use that.”
He took the bucket and mop but threw me a nasty look anyway. That wasn’t going to bother me. I soon heard him struggling and left the kitchen to see him sopping the wet rope mop all over the floor.
The towel was over his shoulder, and his wet hair hung in his face as he sloshed the mop around in all directions. It was pretty cute. He finally huffed at me, “Why is it so wet?”
“You have to wring it out.”
“With what?”
I had to keep from laughing. Theo was doing the job, but terribly, and it was funny. “With your hands.”
“With my hands? You can’t be serious! I’m not touching that!”
He was going to ruin the wood floors the way he was doing it, and I had the impulse to help, but it was likely the first labor he’d ever done. “You can take another shower after if you feel you need to. Want some rubber gloves?”
“Yes,” he spat.
