14. Connor
Connor
J ust being in this office makes me sick.
“Mayor Stacy. Thank you for agreeing to see me.” It’s hard not to punch the mayor’s smug face. He sits in a giant leather chair behind an ornate mahogany desk. He doesn’t stand up, but gestures to a chair and I sit down.
“Busy out there,” the mayor says, nodding toward the window. It offers a generous view of Faneuil Hall, bustling with tourists. I hate small talk, but it’s part of the negotiations.
“Business is booming,” I agree, folding my hands in front of me.
“Connor,” the mayor says, sighing. “I’ve always liked you. We don’t need to talk about your family, or who’s a good upstanding citizen and who isn’t. We both know how power works. We also both know you attacked my son.”
“He attacked Ava Buchanan,” I grind out. “He’s been trouble for you, Mayor Stacy. How many more times are you going to have to cover for his bad behavior?”
“Ava is such a nice girl,” the mayor says, his eyes still on the crowd below. “I really hoped it would work out between those two. She’s a hard worker. Thought she’d have a calming influence on him.”
My hands press into his desk so hard it threatens to break. Stay calm, Doyle. “He needs to learn to respect women and keep his hands to himself.”
Mayor Stacy rolls his eyes heavenward. “I’ve had that conversation with him, Connor. I don’t know what else you want me to do here.”
Take a deep breath. I need to focus if I’m going to keep Ava safe.
Forcibly, I relax my shoulders. “Let’s make a deal, sir. You keep Brooks away from Ava, and then I won’t have to let the city legislature know about your brother’s illegal labor practices at that new hotel he’s building on the seaport.”
I lean back in my chair.
He blinks several times.
“I can assure you there’s nothing illegal happening on my brother’s properties,” he begins, but I cut him off.
“Mayor Stacy. We’re businessmen. Let’s be honest with each other. Nothing happens with the unions that my family doesn’t know about. It’s clear what’s happening there. The Globe and the Herald would have a field day.” I allow myself a small smile. Seamus would fucking love this.
Stacy spins around in his chair, his lips almost curling. “You dare to threaten me, Doyle? Do you think I don’t know what your family does? That I couldn’t have a RICO investigation started. A raid on your fancy club. Shut down the Kildare for good.”
I’m done being afraid of this asshole. “You could try, but you won’t find anything, Stacy. They never find anything.”
Because there’s nothing there to find or because we’re good at managing our business? Not my problem.
Red anger colors his cheeks, causing the broken capillaries along his nose to stand out in stark relief. “And don’t think for one second that I’m above making sure that little whore gets what she deserves. Sending you here, trying to ruin my son’s…”
Jesus, this two-faced son of a bitch.
I don’t let him finish.
What I want to do is crash a fist through his head, maybe through his desk. Ava’s disappointment in me is the only thing that keeps me from acting on my baser instincts. He’d threatened her to rile me up, but an icy calm suffuses my throat.
My voice drops, taking on a hint of a threat. “A mayor who ran on anti-corruption having a family member profiting from…corruption?”
Stacy drums his fingers on the desk and stares out the window, revealing nothing. He’s too much of a WASP for that, but the lines around his mouth tighten slightly.
“Mayor, I think we can both agree that reining in Brooks’s bad behavior is good for everyone. You don’t need him embarrassing you. It’s a fair exchange for me to sit on this information.”
He presses his thin lips together.
“You can leave, Connor.”
“Mayor Stacy. It was good talking with you.”
Just like that, I knew I’d won. Mayor Stacy would cover up a lot for his garbage son, but he wouldn’t blow his political career. He knew I’d be watching. That the Doyles would be watching. The power balance could shift again at any moment, but I’d be ready.
Exiting city hall, I decide to go for a walk.
I have my best suit on, which easily fends off the fall chill.
As usual my mind is on Ava, so I shouldn’t be surprised when I land outside of Gus’s Diner.
Ava’s coworker, the older woman who had been there when she’d been attacked, smokes outside the front door. She blows out a big puff of smoke.
“She ain’t here, honey.”
I shove my hands into my pockets, embarrassed.
“Don’t you look like a whipped puppy,” the woman says, taking another drag of her cigarette. “Maybe you can help her out. Gus fired her after what happened. He said he didn’t want no mafia trouble or fights with the mayor’s son. That poor girl got nothing.”
“Fired her?” I ask. Jesus. She must hate me. My hand’s already reaching for my phone, to call Seamus about fast-tracking that scholarship. Add some living expenses to that.
“Me an’ Ava worked in this shithole together for almost two years. She lights up when she talks about you in a way I’ve never seen. She’s been through hell. Give her time, but don’t give up on her.” She stabs her cigarette out on the brick wall.
“Gotta get back to work. Doing lots of doubles while Gus drags his heels hiring a new waitress. See ya, handsome.”
She pops back into the diner.
I decide to walk over to the club. It isn’t too early for whiskey.