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“Gentlemen.” I knock on the rosemary wood table, my gold rings making plenty of noise.
Radio silence falls around me, the echoes of chatter still bouncing around the walls. One of my men wait outside to stall any waiters.
“It’s a big day, people. Big fucking day for the golden crew.” I slam the suitcase down on the table and flick it open to piles of neatly wrapped cash. Making a show of its beauty causes all eyes around me to brighten. Then I slam it shut. “But first, I have an announcement.”
Marco crosses his loafer over a knee. I can see him fidgeting out of the corner of my eye.
“A lot of you heard through the grape vine how Marco and myself got these, uh, scratches.” I pause to let the chuckles ring through the room, keeping it as light as I can. Marco isn’t smiling, though. “Well, it’s fucking true. I’m with Gia Castellano, Marco’s little sister. It’s also true that I fucked up by keeping it a secret. That is not how a boss should operate, and it’s certainly not how a brother should act. Like the brothers that we are, we fought, we shouted, we shot guns and puffed our chests. But in the end, I was wrong.”
Some eyes avert from mine as I peruse the room, others nod. But it’s clear everyone is uncomfortable.
“Am I going to stop dating Gia ’cause of this sick fuck?” I kick his chair. “No. He’s going to have to kill me first. And if he decides to do something that stupid, as punishment, I’m going to make him take my job.”
“Fuck that.” Marco finally cracks a smile.
The room breaks at Hairtrigger’s response. Laughs fill the room once more.
“That’s what I thought.” I smile and grab my scotch. “So with that, I want everyone to raise their drinks. Not only a night of riches, but, of humble new beginnings… for all of us. Cent’anni.”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“Ey! Someone start the party without pretty boy? This tree out here won’t budge. Open up!”
I nod for one of the boys to open the door.
The doors swing open to reveal a bright white smile and eyes that light up like it’s the first time this prick has seen me.
“Mr. Gold himself. C’mere you.” Sal Dicey Matteo reaches up to give me a double-kiss on the cheek. “You know, we’re only two letters away from being brothers. You should be happier to see me.” He slaps my cheek twice.
“Good to see you, Dice.”
“You too, my man. Donny briefed me. Said you’re a fucking rock star. I don’t know how you do it. Oh!” His attention swings to Big Ace. He runs and jumps on his back like a little kid scaling a building. “You know, at some Indian weddings, the prince rides a horse like this.”
Ace cackles and reaches back to muss up his hair. “Mini-me. I missed you.”
Those two are trouble… in a good way, I guess.
The wait staff pool in with appetizer trays and drink refills before I order the doors shut again to distribute the cash. Everyone is a pig in shit today. A little hard overtime meant literally double the income. And if I can keep Patrovski on a short leash, it’ll stay that way.
We take our seats for the main course – me at the head of the table, Marco to my left, Ratchet to my right. Dicey and Ace are rippin’ on one another to the rest of the table’s delight. It’s good to see the crew eat well. They’ve earned it. At least one part of my life makes some sense.
Me and Marco rely on Ratchet’s small talk for most of the evening. It’s still awkward between us. I can tell if he’s analyzing me, and as capo, I can’t show that it’s any bother.
“Okay, okay.” Dicey gets up from his seat, dinging a glass with his fork. “Bellies full? I’d hold off on the cappuccinos, boys, ’cause I took it upon myself to spend some of my share in advance.”
“What you do, Dicey?” Fugino yells across the table.
Sal winks and claps twice like a matador, and the double-doors fling open to a harem of upscale Vegas style women strutting into the room.
I sigh internally, noticing the families in the restaurants shaking their heads. One teenage boy can’t stop staring, which makes me hoot. But nonetheless, it’s time for me to leave.
“The fuck you going?” Marco spreads his arms.
“This isn’t my scene anymore.” I give him eyes to make sure he understands.
“That’s not the way we do things.” Marco’s expression grows stern. “This is harmless.”
Is he testing me? Or is he serious? Can’t tell when he’s not coked-up. Don’t care, either. I’m not here to play games. I did what I came to do. Spent too much time away, if I’m being honest. Now it’s time to mend things with her.
