Page 62 of Mafia Kings & Wedding Rings
“The appetizers here are legit.” I picked up my menu and skimmed. “So, back to our conversation. Where did you grow up?”
“Omaha,” Six sighed. “And I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why not?”
“Because I want to forget it. Can you please just leave it at that?” she begged, misting eyes syncing with mine over her menu.
“Nah, that’s not how this works.” I shook my head. “How about we play a game? I tell you two truths and a lie about me,you do the same,” I suggested. “Oh, and Armon had these drawn up for you to sign.” I went to my phone and scrolled to the PDF forms he sent me. “Give me that email address from your phone so I can send them to you. You can sign right on your device.”
“Do I get to read it first?” she asked, closing her menu and setting it aside on the table.
“If you were smart you would.” Moments later, the documents had been delivered to her inbox, and she sat reading everything over when our drinks arrived.
“There you go.” Dana smiled with an iPad in her hand and focused mainly on me. “You ready to order?”
Gripping her menu in both hands, Six eyed the waitress then me. Fire ignited behind her stare as she slowly closed it altogether and held it up for Dana to take.
“Excuse me, there are two of us sitting here, or did you not see past your own thirst to acknowledge that?” Six popped off, leaving Dana flustered trying to figure out a response.
She reached for the menu and ended up dropping it. Bending over to pick it up, she tucked it under her arm and turned to Six.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, bowing her head shamefully.
“I will have the filet mignon with the sautéed shrimp and lobster tail. Might want to take that down in case you’re distracted.” She used her oval-shaped nail to point at Dana’s tablet screen, and the girl tapped at the display with a shaky hand.
“I want to start with some of those mini crab cakes and the bruschetta. For my entrée, I’ll have what she’s having. Make my steak medium rare.”
“I would like mine well done, thanks.” Six forced a tight smile on her lips, and Dana bobbed her head.
“Anything else?” she asked, not daring to look up at me or Six.
“As a matter of fact, yes… a Caesar salad. Other than that, I’m just peachy.” Six tucked her arms across her chest, and Dana scurried off.
“Yo, you spicy as fuck,” I chortled and got the notification from her that she’d signed all the forms.
“Fuck her. Bitch shouldn’t have been so disrespectful.” Six propped her arm on the table and dropped her chin in her hand.
Six was hilarious. Her entire aura just me of a girl version of me. I shuddered to think what having a daughter would be like. Picking up my drink, I slid the other shot to her.
“I don’t drink dark, baby.” Six rejected the gesture.
“You just signed that contract. You do tonight.”
“That contract doesn’t mean you get to tell me what to do, Brick.”
“I ain’t say that. This is my family’s reserve. We swear on the bottle around this muhfucka. You accepted the terms, ain’t no walking away once you in.”
“What terms?”
“This whiskey is distilled right here in Oak Bluffs. Did you know that?” I examined the glass in my hand. “My grandpa took every dime he had and invested it into this label. It wasn’t an overnight success either. He made sacrifices, enemies, mistakes. For him, the seal on this label represented tradition. Craftsmanship. Each coded message in the lot number on the bottle referencing an event that elevated us. A testament to heritage, he used to tell me and my brothers. Every drop tells a story of resilience, precision, and the bonds that endure. Pops used to say this bottle binds you. Drink deep, remember your oath, and never betray the family.” My eyes synced with hers across the table.
“So is this like my initiation?” she asked, lifting the glass off the table.
“Breaking the seal means sealing your fate.”
Shrugging, she brought the glass to her mouth and tossed the liquor back.
“So about this game,” I hinted, toying with my glass but studying her.
