27. Damiano
Rob is sitting in our usual booth at the Cat, on the phone. He looks up and sees me approaching. “He just walked in. Yeah, I’ll call you back.” He puts the phone down. “Look who decided to show the fuck up.”
I slide into the booth. “Miss me?”
Rob picks a pistachio nut from the pile in front of him and throws it at my chest. It bounces off me and falls to the floor.
“What?”
“What? Fuck you, that’s what. There’s a fucking price on your head. No one’s seen you in two days. And your one-word text responses are pissing me off more than usual.”
“I was. . . busy.” When I wasn’t hanging out with Paige or sliding into her warm, wet, death-gripping figa, I was busy staring at her from across the room. All higher priorities than coming here.
Rob scowls at me. Literally scowls like he’s about to rip my head off. “I thought Johnny and Massimo caught up with you and you were bleeding out in Massimo’s warehouse.”
“Aww, you care.”
“Fuck you. Of course I care.” He throws another pistachio at me, this time with a little smile, and this time aimed at my forehead. “How is it you notice the slightest twitch on some fucker’s face 200 yards away but you have no clue about what’s right in front of your face half the time?”
I let out a long breath. “Well, clearly I’m fine.”
“And last night? Were you fine last night?”
Last night, Gli Azzurri beat France with a penalty kick, and I celebrated balls-deep in Paige, her arms wrapped around me not letting go, so I’d say I was substantially better than fine. But pretty sure that’s not what Rob’s getting at.
“Last night?”
“Yeah. Last night.” He cracks open another nut and eats it, watching me. “Last night when Vinnie Ricci confessed to shooting those the guys from the park.”
“Huh.”
Mas actually got a confession out of Vinnie? Fuck, I trained him good. I have to fight a smile, so I lean forward to grab some of Rob’s pistachios. “That’s interesting.”
He stares at me a long minute, trying to see inside my head. “‘That’s interesting?’ Don’t you want to ask me why he did it?”
“Not sure I give a shit why he shot some low-level Bagliateri errand boys. But sure, enlighten me.”
“I don’t mean why he shot them, dickhead. I mean why he confessed.”
I nod. That would make more sense. I shrug my hands for him to continue. “Did he say?”
“Apparently he made a video saying he felt guilty as fuck for offing those guys and grabbing the bag of cash.” Rob goes back to his pistachios. “Then he actually apologized to Davide and to Davide’s wife. Then said he was taking off for a while.”
Well, fuck. The apology might have been overkill, but I get why Mas would want to hear it.
“So what’s happening to him now? Joey won’t give a shit about the two runners or the money—not where Vinnie’s concerned—but Mas will want recompense.”
Rob shakes his head. “He’s gone.”
“Gone, like. . .”
“Gone, like into the wind. Johnny went to his place as soon as they got the video. No Vinnie, no bag of cash. But also no sign of him leaving on his home security. Security showed him getting home around nine, then not a single thing until Johnny kicked open his front door at midnight. Poof.”
Of course Mas would fuck with Joey by leaving him hanging—wondering if Vinnie ran or was taken out. If Joey knows the truth about the shootings, which I’m positive he does, he’d know the guilt and the cash grab were a lie, that the whole confession and disappearance was a setup. But he’d have to admit the truth to Johnny to point any fingers.
“Good riddance. Guess that means the price is off my head.”
“Oh yeah? That’s what you think it means?”
“What?” I grab another handful of pistachios, concentrating hard to avoid too much eye contact.
“Some people think it’s awfully convenient.”
I pop a nut into my mouth. “What are you saying?”
“ I’m not saying anything. But Joey isn’t buying it.”
“Not buying what? That Vinnie was racked with guilt or that he split.”
“No clue. All he said was, ‘This is fucking bullshit, and you know it.’”
“So what did you tell him?”
“I told him I don’t give a shit that Vinnie shot some low-level Bagliateri errand boys.”
I smile. Rob truly is the best boss a man could have. My shoulders relax.
“Then I told him this better mean the price is off your head, unless he’s calling Vinnie a liar and has some proof of who actually shot those guys. That shut him up fast.”
“And?”
“And then he said the price was off your head for now and that we can both go fuck ourselves. Then I started to worry that Johnny and Massimo doubted the cover story too and came after you.”
“I was home all—” Cover story ? “What do you mean, cover story?”
Rob squints at me. “The cover story. Vinnie taking the blame. You staging it like a confession and him running. You definitely made him make that video.”
I shake my head.
“You’re shitting me.”
I shake my head again.
“This has you written all over it. This is exactly your style. The obviously fake confession. The melodramatic apology to Davide’s wife. Getting in and out with a body without cameras picking anything up. How was this not you?”
“Maybe Vinnie actually shot them and actually felt guilty and maybe he has a shitty security system? Why don’t you believe it?”
“Because I’m not a fucking moron. And neither is Joey.” He tries to stare into my head again, folds his arms across his chest. “If it wasn’t you, who was it? I can account for every one of our guys last night except for you. Plus none of them would act without running it by me first. So what the fuck?”
If people believe that I didn’t do it, they’re going to start looking around for someone else with a reason to go after Vinnie. Mas has the most obvious motive after me because of Davide. I can’t let anyone start looking in his direction.
“Naah, man. It was me. I was trying to see how convincing I could be.”
Another pistachio aimed at my head. “I have no fucking clue if you’re lying now or if you were lying two minutes ago.”
I smile at him and leave it at that. Rob is cunning as fuck, and people rarely pull one over on him, so I better change the subject before he digs in, looking for details.
I make eye contact with Megan across the room and motion with my head for her to join us. She swishes her fine ass over and whispers something into Rob’s ear. He pulls her down onto his lap. Pretty sure he’s already forgotten about me.
Which is perfectly fine with me. Now I can go home and stare at my Paige some more.