And within seconds, Paul and Silvio entered the office.
“I don’t like it when you guys come here,” Leo immediately said as the two men approached the desk.
“Fuck you, Leo,” Silvio responded. “Who the fuck cares what you like?”
“Trouble?” Mick asked Paul.
“Trouble,” Paul said. “We’ve got ourselves another breach.”
Mick and Leo both were surprised. They just dealt with a breach a couple weeks ago. Now another one? “Where?” Mick asked. “Same place?”
“We wish,” Silvio said. “The Hub this time.”
“The Hub?” Leo asked, surprised. “How bad is it?”
“We don’t know that yet,” Paul said. “But it’s real.”
“How did you find out?” Mick asked.
“One of our spies in Provensano’s outfit. He not only had their names, he had pictures of the meet.”
“Their names?” Leo asked. “More than one?”
Paul nodded. “Four. It’s four of those fuckers, boss.”
Leo looked at Mick, unable to believe it. But Mick was in disbelief too. He stood up and grabbed his suit coat from off the back of his chair.
“The package secured?” Mick asked.
“We got’em,” Silvio said. “They’re secured.”
“This shit is getting out of hand,” Leo said. “What the fuck is going on? One snitch is one thing. You get one in a lifetime. But four? That many one month later? That’s like . . . It’s like---”
“A problem,” Mick finished for Leo, and they all hurried out of his office.
The gates to the Sinatra estate opened, and the limousine drove the long trek toward the super-secluded mansion. There were so many guards on the property that Roz sat in the backseat amazed. Because they were everywhere. Not just at the gate, but all over the grounds. She didn’t think the President of the United States could be this protected. And when the limousine made its’ way to the house, and Roz saw the magnificence of it, she was floored. This trip to Philadelphia, to Mick’s turf, was nothing like she had imagined. She knew he was a rich man. A man who owned a hotel like the Carson had to be rich. But seeing his hotel-looking home stunned her. She thought Mick was the condo type. She expected him to be chilling in a gorgeous high rise. But this house was a family home. A family home with no family?
But looking at the fortified nature of this estate made Roz quickly realize that family was probably not the issue here. Security was. Mick’s security. Which begged the question even further for Roz. Why in the world would a businessman, a hotel magnate no less, need this much security?
Not that Roz was na?ve. There were hints, when she Googled Mick, that he had had a rough past. He was even prosecuted once for racketeering, but had beat the rap. From everything she could gleam, he turned his life around after that trial and was straight ever since. But the security she was seeing didn’t bear that out. This was the security of a man who was either still knee deep in gangster shit, or was too deep in to ever get out. This was the reason, Roz believed, that Mick wanted her on his turf before their relationship went a step further. He wanted her to see that he was no choir boy. Since she had already concluded when she first met him that there was nothing angelic about him, she wasn’t exactly shocked. She was concerned. She still didn’t know the extent of his activities. But because it was Mick, because she saw that softer side of him, she wasn’t scared. She remained, in fact, very excited.
Deuce McCurry got out of the limousine, walked around, and opened the back passenger door for Roz.
When Roz got out, and saw an entire staff of maids and butlers and assistants standing at the opened front doors, her heart began to pound. This was Downton Abbey shit. She wasn’t used to this!
“Oh my Lord,” she said as Deuce closed the car door behind her. “Who are all these people?”
“The staff,” Deuce said. “You’re the guest of honor, and Mr. Sinatra ordered them to greet you.”
Deuce looked at her. He could feel her sudden nervousness. “He chose you for a reason,” he said.
Roz looked at him. “Oh yeah?”
“Oh yeah,” Deuce said. “He knows you can handle it.”
“I’m glad he thinks so,” Roz said.
Deuce still felt an affection for her. “Be you,” he said. “If you can manage that, then there’s no way you can lose.”
Roz smiled. “Thanks, Deuce.” She tucked her nerves safely away again, and made her way up the steps that led to the Sinatra household.
One of those standing, a beautiful woman, came out of the pack with her hand extended. “Welcome,” she said jovially.
“Thank you,” Roz said, shaking her hand.
“I’m Carolyn Brimmer. I’m Mr. Sinatra’s house manager. Please come in.”