Page 233 of The Last Good Man

He straightens, a smile tugging at his lips.

“How?” I murmur. “Would it be by doing something illegal?”

He breathes a laugh.

“No. I happen to know the owner.”

I shift in my seat to take a better look at him.

“Really? Just like that?”

He tips his chin down.

“I know several landlords on that street, and that particular one also has properties in Queens and Long Island.”

I look at him suspiciously while he reclaims his seat next to me. I twist in my chair to see him.

“You’re not thinking about blackmailing that person, are you?”

Laughing, he brings his coffee to his lips.

“I take offense to that. I’m not a mobster.”

“Yet.”

He laughs copiously.

“It’s not funny,” I say.

“It’s not real either. I’m not a mobster.”

“Marco Costa is.”

“Used to be.”

Right.

“This is not the seventies or the eighties, babe. You know they wiped them out. And yeah… Some people run illegitimate businesses, but that’s not us.”

“Mm-hmm… So how are you going to get my offer approved?”

“They owe me a favor.”

Oh… I don’t want to know. He holds my eyes while I search his gaze.

“Don’t worry. I’ll only give it a try. See if it works.”

“What if I don’t want you to interfere?”

“Why wouldn’t you want me to interfere?”

“What if things don’t work between us? I get the apartment, and then you become resentful?”

He cracks a smile.

“Is that how you know me?”

“No. But you never know with people. They change all the time.”

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