Chapter 10
Ten
LUKA
T he first rule of business: arrive five minutes early. My father had burned the lesson into my skull. Over the years, I realized he wasn’t wrong about a few of his business principles. I found this particular one gave me an advantage. An automatic way to make the footing unsteady for my adversaries.
I didn’t know if it was possible to rattle Lorenzo Amato during this meeting. I also didn’t have a fucking clue what he already knew about me. What he had heard about my night out with his daughter. Did he know his bodyguard had wrenched her away from me at gunpoint? It was the reason I had stuck with last names when setting the meeting. There was a good chance he assumed he was going to have drinks with my father.
I didn’t believe in chance. I didn’t think for a second he hadn’t blown into town without knowing who his biggest competitor would be—my father. It wasn’t a coincidence they were interested in the same hotels, more specifically the boutique hotel. The Italians were pests and I guaranteed to get rid of them.
I straightened the cuff on my sleeve. I didn’t like the way it was pressed. I had to get Lorenzo to back off before my father used the full force of the Bratva to shut him down. Under any circumstance, I didn’t give a shit who my father decided to run into the ground. But this time I did. I wasn’t interested in Amara being caught in the crosshairs of our fathers’ war.
I checked my watch. One minute.
I ordered a gin on the rocks and waited for Lorenzo. I dug in my pocket for a cigarette but then remembered the way Amara’s nose turned up when she saw the pack. I opted to leave them where they were.
Fuck me. Why was I thinking about her when I needed to focus on the business at hand?
The bar I chose was old-school New Orleans. Heavy wood walls. Brass fixtures. A direct nod to the established families in the area. There was a side door that wafted with cigar smoke every time someone opened it.
The server delivered the gin drink on a tray and didn’t say a word when he noticed the seat next to me was still vacant. Maybe business was done differently in Philadelphia. Lorenzo was nearly five minutes late. I shook the ice in the glass when the door opened.
The sunlight was a startling contrast to the dim lighting inside the bar. My chest tightened when I saw Ciro enter first. I assumed he was Lorenzo’s top security aide. His head swiveled left then right. He nodded when he spotted me in the center of the dining room. I didn’t address my security. Why give them away so easily? I liked them to stick to the shadows. The element of surprise and awe always provided the advantage.
Ciro held the door open for a few more seconds. What the fuck was taking the old Italian so long?
And then she walked in.
I rose to my feet, not taking my eyes off her. My chest rumbled with something that was a mix of primal need, protection, and need. I had to wipe every ounce of feeling off my face.
She looked just as shocked as I was. She faltered in her high heels. My arm extended quickly to catch her. My fingertips grazed the smooth skin beneath her forearm. I lingered too long. Ciro cleared his throat. Shit. He needed to back off and let us fucking breathe. The red dress made her more edible than it had a right to. Did she know every man in here wanted her in that dress?
She gave me a nervous smile. “I thought I was meeting with your father.”
“I thought I was meeting your father,” I answered. “Why don’t you sit?” I offered her a seat, dragging the chair from the cocktail table.
Amara fidgeted with the cocktail napkin on the table.
“You need a drink,” I stated. I ordered the waiter to the table. “You like champagne.”
She smiled. “I don’t think that’s standard for a business meeting.”
“There is nothing standard about this,” I stated.
“I guess not.”
“We both need a glass. ”
I ordered a bottle to be brought over quickly. I sensed her anxiety. It wasn’t how I planned to see her again. Not like this. Not in place of Lorenzo. I’d never felt more like a pawn, even though I was the one who volunteered to play the game.
I waited until the champagne had been poured. Ciro stood near the entrance to the bar. I felt his eyes penetrating the space between Amara and me.
“How have you been?” I asked.
“Since the weekend?” Her eyes flickered. I wanted to believe the same memories kept her up at night. I was as much under her skin as she was under mine since I had kissed her. Since I had my hands between her legs. Since she had moaned little breathy sounds in my ear while I caressed her to come.
I ignored her sarcasm. “Yes. After our evening ended abruptly. I’m sorry about that.”
She returned the flute to the table. “It wasn’t your fault. I believe we were interrupted by my security.” She glanced over her shoulder at Ciro. “Since that night, there have been no more parties, and I haven’t had a single oyster.”
I chuckled. “That’s terrible news.”
“I did have a good time with you, Luka. But I don’t see it happening again.” Her cheeks turned a soft crimson. It was hard to keep my distance. I wanted to reach out and touch her hair. Stroke the side of her face. But I hadn’t forgotten Ciro carried a gun, and his attention was directed to me. This was no place for the Bratva to withdraw from their corners in an attempt to prove who was more powerful.
“Yet, here we are.” I grinned. “Together. Same table. Same bottle of champagne.” I loved watching her lips curl into a smile. “What did happen when you got home?” I wanted to know what kind of consequences Lorenzo Amato doled out. It was a good sign that she was out in public.
She shook her head. “Actually, nothing. Ciro promised not to say anything about it. My father has no idea about our after-party.”
My head jerked toward the bodyguard. I was surprised. “What’s Ciro’s deal? Why would he keep that to himself?”
Amara eyed me. “He wanted to give me a pass.”
I wasn’t sure if that was true. “Interesting.”
“My father said this was an important meeting. What did you want to discuss?” I noticed she continued to check the time on her phone.
“I think maybe I should wait and talk to him myself. That was the point of the meeting.”
Her forehead crinkled. “Why? I’m here representing the business. I’m an Amato and can speak for the family.”
“I didn’t think you had any interest in the family business.” I shrugged. “Or was that something you wanted me to believe the other night?”
“You don’t think I’m capable?” she posed.
“No. I’d never say that.” Whatever it was, it created a gleam in her eyes. A spark in a sea of emerald green.
“But all right. What does Lorenzo Amato plan to do with the Vieux Carre hotel?”
It was quick, but a noticeable squirm. She tugged on the edge of the red dress. “What do you want to know? ”
“Why that hotel? What is his angle?” The original blueprints for the hotel had been lost in a fire once prohibition ended. The secret of the underground passageway had been kept within a small circle of families. I wanted to know if Lorenzo had been tipped off. There was no other way for him to know the true value as an outsider.
Her lips twitched. “Why is that any of your concern?”
I leaned toward her. It was hard to be this close and not reach for her. I was impressed my restraint had lasted this long. The more minutes passed, the harder it was to not think of the way her lips tasted.
“What about the project by the docks?” I asked.
The corners of her mouth wiggled. “What do you want to know about the docks?”
“All of it.” I waggled my eyebrows. “What does Lorenzo have planned for that area?”
Amara began to shred the corners of the cocktail napkin. She cleared her throat. “My father didn’t send me to tell you everything about his plans. You must know that. I can’t just lay it out there. Do you think I’m that na?ve, Luka?”
“But will you?” I asked. “What could I say to make you come around?”
She laughed, placing the empty champagne flute a few inches from her clutch. “To unlock all the secrets?”
“How about one or two?” I taunted.
She glanced at her phone. “This was nice. Thank you for the champagne, but I need to go.”
I stared at her. “You can’t be serious. ”
“Why not?”
“You just got here. We’ve had one drink. There’s a good bottle of champagne to finish. Stay awhile. Or better, let’s get dinner.”
“Together?” Her voice squeaked.
“I think we can both agree we’re not getting anywhere with this business meeting. Why not have dinner? Maybe I can be the one to enlighten you about how business is done here.”
“Oh, you want to scare me about the big bad Bratva?”
“Shh,” I warned her with a hiss. “That’s not something we can discuss over dinner.”
Her eyes darted across the room to Ciro. “I can’t go. You know why.”
“Bring him with us.” I nodded at the bodyguard.
“Really?”
“Yes. If he’s going to be your security detail, then he goes where you go. I get it.”
I saw her process the information. “And what do I tell my father about our meeting?” she asked.
“You could send him a message for me.”
“What’s that?”
“Tell him to back off the boutique hotel deal. It’s not going to work. The territories here have already been drawn. It might be best for him to look outside the city.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why would I tell him that? He wants the hotel. ”
“But he can’t have it.” I tried to keep my voice clear and firm.
“What makes you think that?” she argued.
“He’s new to New Orleans. I understand he doesn’t know how intricate the hierarchy is. That will come with time. But my father has established power. Lorenzo needs to let it go. He should step aside.”
A bubble of determination surfaced on her face. “You’re saying your father wants it, so he gets it.”
I finished off the last sip in my glass. “Yes. That’s usually how it works.” My eyes settled on hers. I could tell she was offended. “Look.” I brushed my thumb over her knuckles before she tried to pull away from me. “Our meeting is over. I just want to take you to dinner, Amara.”
She exhaled. “You don’t care that we’re on opposite sides of this thing?”
“No. I don’t give a shit, honestly. I’d like to take you out. That’s all I care about right now.” I had a chance to spend time with her again. I was going to take it.
Her bottom lip dragged under her teeth. “Where do you want to go?”
I paid the tab for the drinks. “You’ll see. Let’s get out of here.”