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The young Italian woman’s eyes went wide at the mention of the don’s name as she watched me walk away.
Alessandro’s was an upscale Italian restaurant with rust-red walls, black linens, and silver fixtures that shined like jewelry. I had been here once before to use cocaine as currency in order to get help from Nicoli. I hopped up on one of the vacant stools at the bar. The bartender, who had to be about my age, came right over. “What can I get you?” he asked.
“Whiskey, top shelf.”
He grinned. “I’m going to need to see your ID.”
I reached into my suit jacket’s pocket and pulled out my ID and a hundred-dollar bill. I set them both on the black marble bar top. He picked up the ID and looked it over. His brows rose for a split second before he held my ID out to me with a polite smile.
I took it. “I guess you recognize my name.”
His smile turned strained. “Do you know whose restaurant this is?”
I set my elbow on the bar top and rested my chin on my fist. “I’m sure he already knows I’m here.”
He nodded and picked up the hundred. “I’ll bring your change with your drink.”
“Don’t bother,” I said. “Just keep my drink full.”
He nodded again and went to pour my drink.
I was on my third glass when someone sat on the stool on my left. “You sure love to play hide-and-seek in my city.”
I smiled down at my glass. “I like to keep you on your toes.”
Someone sat on the stool on my other side and said, “Nicoli is right. You are entertaining.” The voice belonged to Dario.
“I try,” I said as I threw back what was left in my glass.
As if sensing that I was in need of a refill, the bartender headed over, whiskey bottle in hand. He looked from Dario to Nicoli with respect in his eyes. “Can I get you something to drink, sir?” the bartender asked Nicoli in Italian as he poured me another drink.
“I’ll have what she’s having,” Nicoli responded in Italian.
The bartender looked to Dario. “Same,” Dario said in English.
As soon as the bartender finished pouring their drinks and left, Dario spoke. “It’s risky coming into someone else’s territory alone.”
I saw a head of blonde locks lean close to Dario’s ear before a feminine voice said, “Who says she’s alone?” Dario went still as Brenna molded her chest to his back. I could see that she was holding something at the base of his spine. “In case you’re wondering, that’s the barrel of a 9mm.”
Dario took a sip of his drink. “I thought you were just happy to see me.”
Brenna cracked a smile for a split second before she forced it to drop. “You’re in my spot.”
“I didn’t see your name on it,” Dario said and spun his stool around partially so he could see her better. “But if you need to sit here, you’re welcome to sit in my lap.”
Brenna put her gun in the holster hidden in her jacket, then surprised us by hopping into his lap. Through his shock, Dario still wrapped an arm around her waist so she didn’t fall. Brenna didn’t seem to notice. Her attention was fixed on me. She leaned her face close to mine with a serious expression. “You shouldn’t have left on your own.” Her voice was low. “You are too important to take a risk like this.”
“How’d you find me so quickly?” I asked.
“I’ve been behind you the whole time, you just didn’t see me. Until they showed up.” She tilted her head at Nicoli. “I was giving you space to process.”
I nodded.
Nicoli rested his elbows on the bar and stared at Brenna and me. “Not that I’m not happy to see you ladies twice in one day, but why are you here?”
I took a sip of whiskey. “I wanted to drink somewhere less suffocating.”
Something flashed across his face. Understanding, maybe? “Are you hungry?”
