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“Romanelli. Wait. The Don? Asked for me?”
“Yep, and I’m not in a position to say no to the biggest crime family in the Midwest.”
“What does he want me to do?”
“He thinks someone is stealing from him, and since there are several accountants in the family, he wants someone outside the syndicate to go over the books.”
“I’m to ferret out the embezzler?”
“Pretty much,” Brim answered. “You’re due to meet with him Friday evening for dinner, at one of his homes. When I get the details, I’ll forward them to you. I shouldn’t have to tell you that this job is strictly need-to-know.”
“Okay.” He rose and headed for the door, pausing with a hand on the knob. “You think it’ll be okay for Vivi to come with me?”
“I don’t give a flying fuck what you do with her. Wait. I retract that. Don’t kill her. If she is part of Barese’s family, I don’t want to piss him off.” Brim tapped his fingers on his desk as he thought. A calculating gleam appeared in his eyes. “Now that I think about it, Barese is one of his men. It might come in handy to have the sister-in-law of the mafia king associated with the club.”
“Futuresister-in-law.”
“Semantics,” Brim replied with a shrug. “If you leave her here…”
“I don’t think I can do that.
“Why not?”
“You can ask her, but she’s gonna say where I go, she goes.”
“It’s like that, is it?” Brim drummed his fingers on the desk. “Very well. Make sure she doesn’t offend the fucking Don. Give her some money to go shopping, or some shit, if you need to. Women like that kind of thing.”
“Does Leia?”
“She’s different.”
Sure, she is. He wasn’t stupid enough, however, to say that out loud. A headache was starting to bloom, and he needed to start punching a bag. He opened the door and stepped out of the office.
“Linc?”
He looked back at Brim.
“Have you talked to Parker?”
“He just needs some time,” he replied, all the while knowing it was a complete lie. Without talking to his brother, it felt like a vital limb had been sawed off, and he couldn’t understand how Parker didn’t feel the same.
Thorn walked up to them.
“Is he pissed?” Thorn asked, thumbing toward Brim. As if he wasn’t sitting there listening.
“Eh.”
“That’s not an answer!” he yelled as Lincoln walked away.
Chapter Eight
“…Some jeans. A couple of t-shirts. And it gets cool in the evenings so we should probably get you a sweater or jacket.”
“Why did your husband want to talk to Lincoln?”
Leia paused. “I imagine it has to do with Don Romanelli requesting his accounting skills.”
“Don … as in anactualGodfather? Who needs an accountant?” She blinked. “That’s like a vampire needing a dentist.”
