Chapter 10
FRANCISCO
Ileave the office for a little peace and quiet. That kind of thing is hard to come by around here. I can’t go out without my bodyguard, but I can at least go to the kitchen to get a scotch.
Inside the kitchen, one of Edoardo’s men is eating a sandwich. I give him a nod, and he picks up his plate and leaves. I tell myself I’m going to talk to Edoardo. I’m not running a boarding house here. I expect my men to work, not to eat me out of house and home.
I’m in a bad mood, and it’s not the man’s fault.
I uncap a bottle from the cabinet and pour myself a glass.
Ten years ago, I would have lit a cigarette, but I quit that habit after Alessia died.
No matter how many years I put between me and those cancer sticks, they occasionally reared their ugly heads.
What I wouldn’t give for one puff right now, to put things right in my mind.
“Cisco?” Giovanni interrupts me.
“What?” I demand.
“Phone call,” Giovanni says.
I guess he must mean the house phone. That’s a line I don’t like to use because I’m 99% certain it’s being bugged. “Who is it?”
“It’s the mayor,” Giovanni says. “Should I tell him you’ll call him back?”
“No,” I say. If the mayor is stupid enough to call me on my landline, it probably means he’s calling from his. That also means that the FBI will be listening in on his end. Amateur. “I’ll go down to meet him. Did he say what it’s about?”
“No,” Giovanni says. “But I can ask him.”
“No,” I regretfully inform my brother. “I’ll talk to him.”
Depending on the topic, there might be some things we can discuss out in the open. I walk back to my office and pick up the phone, only to be disappointed yet again.
“I can’t do it,” the mayor says.
“What can’t you do?” I ask, my voice even.
“The wind turbines,” he begins.
“Stop,” I demand. “Meet me for coffee.”
“I don’t have time.” He tries to weasel out of it.
“Make time,” I demand. “I’ll meet you at the coffee place on the corner of Fifth and Franklin in twenty minutes.”
“Is this really necessary?” he complains.
“Yes,” I respond.
I hang up and button up my cuffs. It’s time to put the heat on the mayor, and I’m not looking forward to his whining. I grab Giovanni and Edoardo, and we roll out. In the limo, we can’t risk talking shop. But I can complain about certain people I know who are amateurs in this game.
“What is he thinking?” I ask Edoardo.
“I dunno,” Edoardo replies. “I think all that power just went to his head.”
“Power?” I scoff. “The mayor doesn’t have power. He’s in the pocket of lobbyists. That’s what this is all about. You’ll see.”
We pull up outside the coffee stand, which is conveniently outdoors. I’m pleased to see the mayor already waiting for me. At least he got that part right.
“Bob,” I say, shaking his hand.
“Cisco,” he responds, as if the word is sour on his tongue.
I put a hand on his shoulder and lead him away from the coffee cart. Edoardo and Giovanni take up flanking positions, their eyes peeled for any eavesdroppers. Luckily, the mayor hasn’t brought any of his staff with him. After all this time, he knows the drill.
“I could have said this over the phone,” he reiterates. “I’m sorry you had to make a trip.”
“Tell me why you can’t give me the contract for the wind turbines,” I say patiently.
“I got another bid, and it’s very competitive,” the mayor responds.
“I thought we had an understanding,” I tell him.
“We did,” he agrees, “but my hands are tied. The city won’t allow me to go with a higher bid.”
“What’s the bid?” I ask.
“You know I can’t tell you that,” he hedges, twisting his body to try to escape my grasp.
I tighten my hand on his shoulder to make sure he understands what’s at stake. “Humor me,” I say lightly.
“Three million,” he responds unhappily.
I turn away. Three million just isn’t going to cut it. I’m looking at this project as the perfect way to launder money through the city. I’ve got a lot more than three million at stake. I’m pissed, but there’s not much I can do at the moment. I can’t very well beat up the mayor in public.
I squeeze his shoulder to the point where it hurts, then drop all physical contact. “I’ll be in touch,” I growl.
He exhales in relief, watching me walk back to my car. “So, I’ll, uh, see you on the golf course.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “See you there.”
Climbing back into the limo, I punch the seat. I’m well aware that my car could be bugged, and that I can’t complain too loudly. I let out a string of curse words and then hold my tongue until we arrive back home. Outside, I pull Giovanni around behind the house so we can talk in peace.
“So?” Giovanni asks. “I gather it didn’t go well.”
“He got a lowball bid and some bureaucrat from the city’s making him take it,” I snap.
“Which bureaucrat?” Giovanni wonders.
“I don’t know,” I reply in exasperation.
“I’ll find out,” Giovanni says.
I sigh, straightening my shirt now that the crisis has passed. “You do that,” I say. “And let me know what you find.”
“On it,” Giovanni promises.
I walk back inside, making a quick stop in the kitchen for a sparkling water.
There’s plenty more to get done today, so I walk back into my office.
That’s the one place in my home where I feel comfortable doing business.
Apart from the phone, which could be bugged off-site, my men sweep for electronic devices every day.
I’m ninety-nine percent sure that my office is clean.
And I sprang for soundproofing inside the walls, making it an excellent fortress within a fortress.
I check my calendar, and once again, wish I had a secretary.
But of course, there’s no one I could trust with the intricacies of my business, so I have to manage my own time.
Despite the fact that I’m expecting a few of my capos to report, I’m not in the kind of business where people make regular appointments.
So a secretary probably wouldn’t do me any good.
I’m not expecting anyone, so I’m a little surprised when there’s a knock on the door.
“Come in!” I shout, sitting down behind my desk.
The door opens, and Frankie’s tutor walks in.
I stand up again. Old habits die hard, and I was taught that a gentleman always stands when a lady walks into the room.
She wears a purple blouse that shows off her chest in a classy way.
It’s not too form-fitting, but not too loose.
I can see the outline of her cleavage, and it gives me all kinds of thoughts.
Her skirt is calf-length, definitely proper and all that, but it suffers from the same perfection as the blouse. It’s just tight enough that I can see her hips and her ass perfectly.
I just want to take her and bend her over my desk, thrust my dick inside her, and hear her scream with delight. But of course we don’t have that kind of relationship. So, I clear my throat and try to find somewhere else to focus my attention.
“Marlena,” I say, my voice a mixture of surprise and anticipation.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she says timidly.
“Not at all,” I reply, waving her toward a seat.
It’s best if I sit down myself. I’m starting to feel like a teenager in my own home, and it’s not something I want to broadcast.
“I think Frankie’s doing really well,” she begins, crossing her legs.
I imagine running my hand up her calf, peeling back the skirt to reveal the silky thighs underneath. “Yeah, he told me he got an A on some test,” I manage.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Marlena continues, oblivious to my pain. “He’s really motivated by trying to please you.”
“He’s a good kid,” I allow, unable to stop my mind from wandering.
“It might be nice if you would take him out to dinner to celebrate,” she suggests.
“Why don’t we have a party?” I counter, leaning forward.
She laughs, and the sound is so sweet and innocent, I’m immediately turned on. “Okay.”
“It’ll be a black-tie affair,” I elaborate.
“Oh,” she says on an exhale. I watch her chest swell, and I’m dying to remove that flimsy blouse. “Are you sure? That seems… extravagant.”
"I think it’s time to congratulate Frankie for a job well done,” I say. I don’t mention that there are other reasons I want to hold a get together. Namely, it will give me an opportunity to get all my capos in one place.
“I don’t have anything to wear,” she objects.
“Don’t worry about that,” I tell her.
She smiles nervously. “I guess that would be okay. It’s very kind of you to throw such a lavish party.”
“Not at all,” I respond.
I just can’t get enough of this girl. She’s affecting me in ways I didn’t think were possible anymore.
I haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time, maybe not since Alessia.
There’s almost nothing I wouldn’t do for the chance to run my fingers through her hair.
I try to tell myself that I’m too old for her.
She’s probably not interested in me that way.
But as she stands up to go, her eyes tell a different story. She’s looking at me through her beautiful eyelashes, almost reluctant to leave the office. I give her a sincere smile, hoping I’m not giving myself away.
When she finally slips out the door, I lean back in my chair.
My heart races, and my head feels hazy. My hard dick is rubbing against the fabric of my pants.
After all that crap with the mayor, I’m finally feeling in a better mood.
It looks like I’m committed to throwing a party for my son.
But I can’t wait to see Marlena all decked out.
And the next item on my agenda is to pick something out for her to wear.
I open my laptop and begin to browse the most expensive online boutiques.
It’s got to be perfect, just the right combination of sexy and classy.
I want something that will make it clear to her I’m not just the father of her student.
I’m a contender for her affections in the most primal way.
Something that will make her jaw drop and set her heart on fire is what I want.
Clicking through the options, I land on the perfect one.