Page 63 of The Deals We Make
I’ve been in my office for two seconds when there’s a knock at the door.
King lets himself in before I have a chance to acknowledge him. “You want to tell me what all that bullshit was about being sick? You look fine this morning.”
“Had some private biz to deal with, Prez.” I start to power up all my machines and get a grip on the workload I have to catch up on for the club. I need to run the shit from the strip club and send some automations running to see if I can get a hit based on what I see.
Once I’m done, he’s still standing there, hands shoved into his pockets. “It’s not like you,” he says.
“Yeah, well, had some shit to process.”
King narrows his eyes. “This shit you had to process? Is it more important than the club? Because we had some shit weneeded you to process too. Saint’s fine, but we needed to get a jump on who attempted to rob the club.”
And my anger at King’s father, Camelot, and Cue Ball spills over. “The shit I had to process was how this fucking club let me down so badly, it ruined multiple people’s lives. So, with respect, Prez…fuck off.”
“You better start talking,” King says.
“Nothing to discuss, Prez. And I said I’d meet with Alessio. Guys are waiting on me outside.”
It’s a white lie. Bates is outside, but the others aren’t here yet.
“When you’re done, I’ll expect you back here and telling me the truth about what the fuck is going on.”
And with that, he turns on his heel and walks out of my office.
“Fuck.” I rub a hand over my jaw. As I do, I repeat the mantra I’ve been trying to remind myself of since this all started. King is not Camelot. Clutch is not Cue Ball. And yet, I feel like the club owes Calista some kind of apology.
Calista hadn’t even made her first attempt to hack them. I fixed it before she could.
She’d done nothing wrong.
Yeah, I know I’m dancing a fine line between Calista taking accountability for her actions and me making excuses for them. But seriously. We were fucking kids.
If I overexplain this, the club will immediately jump to the Sicilians and their issues.
I’m still thinking about it ninety minutes later as Alessio introduces me to his safety net.
“This is my cousin’s son, Antonio. You can call him Tony. Has a degree in computer science from Harvard,” Alessio says.
I glance at the preppy kid with tight jeans that barely reach his ankles and loafers. “And?” I ask.
Alessio smirks. “He’s been managing our data security, and he’ll be…partnering…with you on this.”
I roll my eyes. “You mean he’ll be keeping an eye on me while I’m in your system.”
“Purely insurance,” Alessio says.
I look at the kid, who doesn’t look any older than Calista and I did when our world fell apart. Maybe part of my reaction is that he’s the kid I could have been. In an alternate universe where I’d never stepped foot onto the Outlaws territory, where I’d gone to college.
“I’m more capable than you think. And I maintained a high GPA,” Tony says.
Alessio smirks as he looks down at the floor.
“Yeah, well, that GPA won’t do anything for you here. It’s like bringing a pedigree Shih Tzu to a dog fight. Someone’s got their teeth into your system good. Says to me they used something unconventional to get in. Has to be deeper than what your anti-virus shit could catch. So maybe you could watch and learn and keep your mouth shut.”
“Fuck you,” the little shit has the balls to say.
I just bark back at him like one of those little yappy dogs who go ballistic if they see the mailman.
Switch laughs and slaps my back. I’m glad Cat and Niro are outside the room I’m in because Niro would have fun teasing Tony.
