Page 14 of A Very Rossi Christmas
And thank God for that. Because I didn’t know about Brooks, but I just wasn’t in the mood to get shot today. And though I never would have dreamt it, it was sure starting to look like that was what Joseph was here to do.
8
JOSEPH
DOUBLE TALK
"They honestly do this every year?" I asked, my eyes on the floats crowding the street in front of us.
"Every fucking year," Donny Patrelli muttered from my right. "It's a crock of shit, you ask me. But it makes for a good cover when it comes to meeting people you don't want anyone to see in your office. If you take my meaning."
Oh, I took his meaning all right, and I moved my hand slightly, looking for the outline of the gun in my pocket. I knew it was there. I'd put it there this morning when I put on my jacket and headed out the door, and could still feel the weight of the thing against my chest.
But knowing it was there and actually feeling it with my own fingers were two different things, and right now, out here on the West Coast and meeting with a family I'd never had any contact with before—and without any backup—I didn't want to leave anything to chance.
I jerked at the thought, trying to remember why I hadn't brought reinforcements with me. Had my father offered? Had he told me I should bring someone along to help in case something went wrong?
No, he didn't,my brain supplied, with a healthy dose of irony.
Right. He'd told me to come alone. For reasons that I was now starting to think weren't entirely aboveboard.
"And why exactly did we need another meeting in the first place?" I asked, forcing my voice to be as cold as possible. "I was under the impression that we'd already finished our business, Patrelli."
The man next to me snorted. "We may have come to an initial agreement. That doesn't mean we're finished with our business."
Oh. Right. Obviously. How could I have missed that?
I'd thought we had a deal. Evidently I'd been wrong. Dammit. I didn't think I'd ever get used to the double—and triple—talk of the mob. People saying one thing and meaning another. People telling you that you had a deal when in reality, they meant to drag you out to some fucking parade in the middle of a hot LA day and passively threaten your life a little bit.
Probably because they regretted the deal they'd made with you in the first place.
The corners of my lips curved at the thought and I turned to Patrelli, taking in the already receding hairline—even though he was only thirty-two—and the sneer on his face. I allowed one eyebrow to rise up at him, already knowing what he saw when he returned the look. Aviator sunglasses. Square jaw. Pursed lips.
A full head of hair.
"Patrelli, as far as I'm concerned, our deal's already done," I told him coldly. "And that means that we don't have any other business here. Now, unless you have more to offer me and my family, I'd suggest you get the hell out of my hair. Before I have to do something we'll all regret."
Was it overkill? Maybe. An overreaction? Probably.
Was I out here on my first big assignment for the family and feeling like I needed to prove myself?
Absolutely.
Patrelli narrowed his eyes at me, then turned his eyes out to the crowd, like he was trying to get away from my glare. As he should.
I turned and followed his eyes, my own eyes going right past the Santa-Clause-flavored float in front of us and to the crowd on the other side of the street.
And that was when I saw Sloane.
She didn't have Brooks with her, at least not that I could see, and she also wasn't looking at the float passing in front of us. Instead, she was staring right at me, her eyes narrowed and her mouth tight. Those eyes flew to my left and took in Donny Patrelli, and her mouth tightened even more.
When her eyes came back to me, they were contemplative. Wondering what exactly I was doing.
Maybe even concerned.
Which was fucking rich, considering she’d ducked out on me last night via that maze of rooms at the back of the building I’d found her in. Not one single care for whether I was going to get stuck in there for an hour, trying to find my way out.
Which I had.
