12. Trust Me #4
“On New Year’s Eve, Barbi said she’d love to have dinner out, go to the theater. I wanted to bring her to our restaurant, then take her to a show. She’s got a disguise, but she’s not safe being out and she’s definitely not safe being seen with me—”
“There’s a dozen or more tables in here,” Teddy barked. “The salon’s been booked for—”
“I asked Tara to move their reservations.”
Teddy furrowed his brow. “We’ll lose thousands. What the hell is wrong with you, G?”
Gabriel clenched his teeth, his hand closed into a fist. “I’ll give you the goddamn money, you son of a bitch.
I’m doing something nice for someone I care about and you—you of all people—are lecturing me about money.
I started Santini International for Luciano.
I started Santini Wineries, Santini Spirits too.
As Boss of Cosa Nostra, I own half of Italy. ”
Gabriel pulled his phone from his pocket, opened his bank app, and sent Teddy twenty-five-thousand dollars.
“I sent you twenty-five large. Transfer the money to the restaurant,” Gabriel bit out. “Take the damn door down tomorrow but let me give her a fairytale evening tonight.”
Teddy’s mouth dropped open.
“I gotta finish payroll.” Gabriel stormed into the office as Angelo returned from his smoke.
Too angry to sit, Gabriel paced the small space.
“I was gone for five minutes,” Angelo said. “What happened?”
“My asshole brother,” Gabriel seethed as Teddy strode into the office.
Ignoring him, Gabriel pulled his laptop over, showed Angelo the photo of the Bratva who shot him. “Pavel Donskoy, alias Bob Smith. Get me his home address.”
“That’s gonna take me a minute, G,” Angelo replied. “I can’t surveil him until I know where he lives, you know?”
“He’s tight with a Dmitri Petrov who knows the Russian Ambassador, Yuri Bulgrov.”
“You insult me, G.” Teddy sat behind the desk, got busy on the computer. “You ask Angelo, but I’m a hacker.”
Gabriel glared at him. “Mind your business, Theodore.”
“Teddy, how’d you become a hacker?” Angelo asked. “You take a course or something?”
Teddy was too busy on his computer to answer.
“I’ll be chillin’ at the bar,” Angelo said. “We leaving soon?”
“Stay,” Gabriel said. “Make sure no Bratva show up here. I’ll be back with Barbi.”
“You got it, Boss.”
Angelo left, shutting the door behind him.
“I need to finish payroll,” Gabriel said.
No response from Teddy.
“Theodore,” Gabriel snapped.
Teddy looked up. “I’m almost done.”
“With what?”
“I’m writing a program to get you the address of the motherfucker who shot you.”
The fury racing through him slowed, and he breathed deep. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry about the door.”
“That I added it or your reaction?”
“Both,” Teddy replied.
Less than ten minutes later, Teddy pushed out of his chair. “The program’s running. I’ll check it in a few. That image of him from the ambush video will speed this along.” He walked around the desk, extended his hand to Gabriel. “This private dinner for Barbi is nice. You must really like her.”
Gabriel shook his hand. “I do.”
“To make sure she stays safe, I’ll serve you myself,” Teddy continued. “That way, we keep the waiters out.”
“Grazie, fratello. I can remove the door tomorrow.”
“It’s fine.” Teddy walked Gabriel into the main dining room. “I’ll make sure everything is perfect for you.”
“Oh, that reminds me.” Gabriel returned to the office, retrieved the black gift bag from the sofa. In the hallway, he showed Teddy the gifts.
“Those look serious,” Teddy said.
“They’re homing locations and the lipstick is a gun.”
“If she doesn’t like the rings, she can always shoot you.”
They laughed.
Gabriel said goodbye to Angelo, who was enjoying a drink at the bar. “Stay sober.”
“It’s one drink,” Angelo replied before Gabriel took off.
At quarter ‘til seven, Gabriel parked his truck behind Halston’s SUV in the loading dock of Hotel Dillinger.
He rode the service elevator to the lobby.
As he made his way to the front desk, he wasn’t sure whose name the room was in, so he called Evangeline.
After speaking with her, he ponied up to the front desk.
“I’m here to see Evangeline Develin, Suite 1119,” Gabriel said.
“Is she expecting you?” asked the hotel clerk.
“I’ve got her on the phone.” Gabriel said, “Evangeline, here’s the front desk clerk.”
Evangeline cleared him to take the elevator to the penthouse, so the employee escorted him to the elevator bank. Once inside, the clerk slid his access card into the slot, pressed the Penthouse button. The light turned green, the employee exited the elevator cab, and Gabriel rode up alone.
As he rounded the corner, a tall, muscular man with long, dark hair knocked on the suite at the end of the hall.
He wore a black leather jacket, tattered black jeans, a backpack over his shoulder.
Halston stepped into the hallway, hugged him hard, and pulled him inside, shutting the door behind them.
Gabriel stopped dead in his tracks. A growl rumbled from his throat, and his hand curled into a fist.
No fucking way.
She’s got herself a boyfriend.