Page 3 of Sexting the Don

“Listen, kid, I wouldn’t be suggesting what I’m about to suggest if I weren’t desperate. You know I like to keep my little girl out of my business, but—”

“Get to the point,” I repeat.

“Sure, okay.” He leans forward in a conspiratorial sort of way. “There’s this guy. His name is Enzo Martelli. Have you heard of him?”

I shake my head. “Enzo Martelli? The name doesn’t sound familiar.”

“He comes here every Thursday,” Jimmy says. “Supposedly, this is one of his favorite spots in the city. Today’s Thursday.”

“I don’t normally work Thursdays. I picked up the shift for someone else.”

Jimmy nods. “That explains why you’ve never seen him before. Listen, this Martelli guy, he’s a huge mover and shaker in the local organized crime scene. The guy’s got money, power, influence. In short, all the shit Idon’thave and the shit that could get us out of our little jam.”

“You meanyourlittle jam. We’re the ones caught in the crossfire.”

He shrugs. “We’re family, right? My problems are your problems, and your problems are my problems. That’s how it works.”

“Funny thing about that is how you seem to be the only one having problems.”

He takes another sip. “You never know what the future holds, Nugget. One day, you might need your old man to get you out of a jam. Stranger things have happened.”

“Right,” I say with sarcasm nearly oozing out of my pores until a cold spike of realization hits me.

“You don’t expect me to sleep with this guy?”

“Hey!” Jimmy says. His eyes flash then, and I see my own in them, reminding me how much I hate that I look like him. “Of course not! Just … work some charm. He’ll like you and want to help. This is how much we need.” He takes out a notepad and pen and scrawls down a number and hands it to me.

My gut tightens as I see the amount. “Are you kidding?” I ask. “You can’t be serious.”

“Desperate times,” Jimmy says again. “But yeah, that’s what we need. Otherwise, our whole family’s sunk.”

I feel sick to my stomach again.

“We might be able to get a loan on some better terms if you play this right,” Jimmy says. “Enough to pay off the loan sharks and get some breathing room. This Enzo guy, I’ve heard he’s brutal, but he’s also professional, an old-school, gentleman-type mobster.”

Is there such a thing?

Before he can say anything more, the front door to La Serna swings open, and I glance up, my breath catching as a man walks in. He's tall, well over six feet, with a high forehead that gives him a brooding look. His grey eyes scan the room with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. His salt-and-pepper hair, broad shoulders, and thick chest give him a commanding presence.

“Speak of the devil,” my father says in a low voice.

Enzo Martelli is dressed impeccably in a tailored suit that was clearly tailor-made for him. The suit fits him like a glove, emphasizing his muscular frame and powerful persona. As he moves toward a table, I'm struck by how much authority andconfidence he exudes, a raw masculinity that makes my heart race.

There's something about him that just draws me in, a magnetic pull that's impossible to ignore. I'm undeniably turned on by his presence.

“And that’s my cue to leave.”

“Now?” The word shoots out of my mouth as I watch Jimmy scramble out of his seat.

“Listen, kid. I’ve got a little bit of a rep around the city. People know my face. And they might not be inclined to grant any favors if they know I’m involved.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do?”

Jimmy shrugs. “Charm him a bit, tell him you’re in some trouble. Do whatever it takes to get him on our side. I’m sure you can do it. You’ll put this wine on your tab or something, right? I’m a little light.”

I’m left stunned as he adds, “Good luck, Nugget! Shoot me a text and let me know when you’ve got him on the hook!”

He doesn’t give me a chance to reply. Jimmy flashes me one more grin over his shoulder as he departs, leaving out the back door.

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