The Family Business

LC must have read my puzzled expression. He said, “You’re a lawyer. You saw the man up close. Do you think he’s a liar?”


“Yes,” I replied without hesitation this time. “But that doesn’t mean he was lying about what he said.”

“Hmm. I agree,” LC said, then went briefly silent again, deep thoughts consuming him. “I want you to assure Dash that any aggression that might spill over near their interests or within their boundaries is purely unintentional. Tell him we are looking to do business with the Italians and welcome him and his people as allies.”

“Got it,” I said as I prepared to leave. More contact was not something I wanted when it came to Dash, especially after I’d been promised absolution from my father’s debt back in Maryland. Out of sight, out of mind was how I wanted to be with Dash, but this whole mess wasn’t going to allow me that comfort.

“And another thing,” LC added as he tapped a pencil like a drumstick on his desk calendar.

“Yes?” I asked, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Whatever’s wrong with you and my daughter, I want you to fix it. It’s not good for my granddaughter. Nor my trust factor.”

I considered some methodical response. Maybe some laid-out, scholarly argument. Instead, after a long pause, I surrendered a simple, “Yes, sir.”



London



43


“I’m sorry about canceling the other day,” Tony said, holding me tightly. “And glad I got to make it up to you.”

“I’m risking a lot by coming here,” I remarked as I placed several kisses across his muscular chest.

He lifted my face so he could look in my eyes. “Why? Your husband suspects?”

“No. He’s too busy with his head up my father’s ass to notice. That and the bitch he’s fucking keep his mind totally off me.” I felt pitiful admitting that to him, but as usual, Tony did what he could to lift my spirits.

He joked, “Lucky for me, I guess.”

Unfortunately, I was too preoccupied to relax. When I didn’t respond to his gentle kiss, he asked, “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Family. Things are a little crazy at home—besides my marriage. Security concerns. I’m pissing a lot of folks off by ditching my detail to meet with you.”

“Whoa. Security detail?” He leaned on one elbow and looked down at me. “A rich girl, eh? I figured that with that expensive Mercedes of yours and the nice clothes you wear, but rich, like security-detail rich, I had no idea.”

“Don’t judge me.” I sighed and turned my head away from his inquiring eyes. “I would trade it all in for a nice, quiet life away from it all. Once upon a time, I thought I’d get that.”

“Maybe you still can. With me,” he said, and I felt him beginning to harden again under the sheets as he rubbed his legs against mine.

“Look,” I said, “that’s sweet of you to say, but I have no illusions about what this is between us.”

“I understand. Me neither.” He began to stroke my hair. “The last thing I want to do is cause more problems for you and your family. So, if this ever becomes too much for you to handle, just let me know. I’ll back off. I promise.”

I turned to give him a kiss. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on asking you to go anywhere. You’re the only real break I get these days.”

Mercifully, he changed the subject. “Speaking of family, how’s that sweet girl of yours?”

“Mariah’s doing fine. She’s at school right now. She still talks about you since that day, you know.”

“I was just glad I was able to render assistance, m’lady,” Tony commented in jest.

“What time is it, anyway?” I asked. “I don’t want to be late picking her up.”

“It’s early still,” he said, putting a hand on my shoulder to send a subtle signal that he wanted me to stay put in the bed with him. “I’ll make sure you get there on time. What school is she at?”

“Ralston Academy.”

“Yeah,” he said, “I’ve heard of it. I think my sister was looking into that place for her kids.”

Carl Weber with Eric Pete's books