Chapter 6 MINKA #2
“I am.” The old man slows four feet away, a playful twinkle in his eyes and a teasing twitch in his lips. The man exudes money and power, but a youthful mischievousness peeks through as he gestures back the way he came. “Anything going on between you and Agosti I should know about?”
“No, sir,” Archer answers. “I happened across him speaking with my wife, so I approached and politely asked him to move along.”
Or, ya know. Told him to fuck off.
Curious, Cordoza’s eyes flicker to mine, then, hooking the handle of his cane over his arm, he closes the space between us and sandwiches my hand in his. “Did my guest upset you, Doctor Mayet? Have I stumbled upon trouble I should deal with?”
“No, Mr. Cordoza.” I allow him to pull me in—because that’s what’s expected—and then I hold still as he kisses my cheek.
Unlike Anthony Agosti, my skin doesn’t crawl when I look into Estefan’s eyes.
My temper doesn’t spike when he touches me.
Simply put, I don’t feel icky when he smiles.
Estefan Cordoza reminds me of Steve, but richer and with an army at his beck and call.
“I ran into Jasna in the bathroom,” I explain.
“Naturally, when we exited, Anthony was waiting. He introduced himself, collected his wife, and went about his evening.”
“Simple as that?” Cordoza’s expression flickers with amusement. “No harsh words spoken?”
“None worthy of repeating. Are you well, Mr. Cordoza? Healthy?”
“As can be.” He sets the cane on the floor and leans on it in a way he didn’t have to even a year ago when we first met.
He settles back on his heels, relaxed despite the power that would shift in New York if he simply…
didn’t make it out of this building alive.
“I saw you on the news this past week, Doctor. You wore a gown similar to the one you have on tonight, but you were significantly less composed.”
“I tend to grow a little sweaty and sweary when a man is dying in the street.” I sidle up against Archer and smile. “That man didn’t survive. But my next two patients did.”
“Decent odds. And I saw your neighbor earlier.” He knows too much. He knows everything. “Mr. Morris. You saved his life that day, no?”
“Mm. He was one of the three.”
“His prognosis is good?”
“As good as can be expected. I like to think he’ll be on his best behavior going into the future. More vegetables, less fried food, more exercise.”
“Is there anything I can offer to assist Mr. Morris’ recovery? You have in-house medical care, I’m told. Do you require anything else?”
“No, but thank you.” I wave him off—not very elegant at all. “We’ve borrowed Felix’s Mary, so assuming she knows what she’s talking about, I think we’re in good hands.”
“Oh, look! The party has been moved out here.” Sophia steps through the reception room doors with her security posse in tow and a salacious grin plastered across her beautiful face.
She’s always been too brave for her own good.
Too loud for safety. Despite Cordoza’s guards turning defensively, and despite the hands that shift beneath their coats—to guns, no doubt—she sweeps through the crowd and straight into Cordoza’s welcoming arms. “Estefan. You look fantastic.” She presses a kiss to his left cheek.
Then the right. “I was thrilled when I heard you would be here tonight.”
“As was I at the news that not only one, but two Solomon sisters would attend.” He inches away, but only to beam as Ellie steps out of a Checkmate guard’s shadow and replaces Soph in the old man’s embrace. “Michelle. My sweet, sweet girl.”
He knows her name is not Michelle. But old habits die hard, and wrapping her in a hug that borders on paternal probably means neither of them gives a shit which name is spoken.
“Small town life suits you, sweetheart. All that fresh air is excellent for your complexion. I dare say you’re glowing.”
“She is glowing, isn’t she?” Sophia takes her sister’s hand and lays a loving kiss to her wrist. “I hate to spoil a surprise, but our mutual princess has wonderful news for you, Estefan.”
“No!” Mafia schmafia. Cordoza lights up and drops his hands to Ellie’s flat stomach. “You wouldn’t lie to an old man, would you?”
“Not about this.” Ellie’s eyes glisten with happy emotion. Her chin trembles. “I intended to share my news with you earlier today, but catching a moment with you, without the rest of your guests, was proving difficult.”
“Next time, you need only to tell them to leave.” He yanks her closer and drops a noisy, juicy kiss to her cheek. “I’m over the moon for you! And you.” His eyes, not nearly as friendly, jump to her guard. Her husband. “This child will be protected for life.”
Promise. Threat.
Don’t fuck with her, Rosa.
“What do doting grandpas typically buy for an expectant mother?”
“Oh, no,” Ellie giggles nervously. “Buy nothing. I simply wanted to share my news with you.”
“The sky’s the limit, sweet thing.” He cups her cheeks, squishing them higher and swiping a happy tear from the corner of one eye. “Do you know yet, is it a boy or a girl?”
“I want to talk to you.” Sophia inches closer to my side, her words just loud enough for me. “In private.”
Archer’s arm grows tighter over my shoulders.
Yep. He heard her, too.
“She’ll be under Checkmate protection the entire time, Detective. And as a sign of good faith—” She gestures toward her chattering sister. “I’ll leave mine with you. Take care of her. Don’t let her out of your sight. And for the love of God, get her an ice bucket before she yacks again.”
“What do you need?” I hold my ground, even when she grabs my wrist. “This isn’t about the Aubree thing, is it?”
“Jericho.”
My heart stumbles in my chest, screeching to a painful stop and then galloping forward once more. Because she speaks the one word we know means something. The one phrase she warned me meant life or death. Her dark eyes hold mine captive, staring but silent. Probing and serious.
Not even Archer knows what that word means to us. And I think… now that she’s brought it up… I think that was her intention all along.
It’s just for us. Only us.
“Okay.” I slip out from under Archer’s arm, then I turn and set a kiss on his tense jaw. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”
“Minka…”
“I’ll be with Checkmate. She promises.”
“And you have my sister.” Soph tightens her grip on my wrist and tugs me away. “I’m trusting you, Malone. Don’t lose her. Don’t screw this up. Come on.”
“What’s going on?” I lift the front of my dress so I don’t stumble on the damn thing. “Soph? You said Jericho mattered.”
“It does.” She leads me straight along the hall and into the kitchen I already visited once tonight.
And just like Archer did, she barks out an order that has staff scattering.
“Leave.” She yanks me through the doorway, propelling me forward, but she doesn’t release my hand, so when our arms can’t stretch any further, I come to a sharp stop and swing back around in time to catch her shutting the door.
“I have something I’d like to discuss with you.
” She lifts her chin, ironically gesturing toward the counter I’ve already sat on tonight.
“Take a seat if your knee is bothering you. We’re gonna be a while. ”