Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 56831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
He nodded and tried to sound confident, too. “We will.”
“Your Lyft is going to be here any minute. Want me to walk you downstairs?”
“No, thanks. The lobby’s probably still crowded, so I’d rather say goodbye here, in private.”
As we lingered over a kiss, I memorized him with all my senses. The taste of his mouth. His clean, familiar scent. The softness of his hair beneath my fingertips. That little mewl he made as he deepened the kiss. That way, I could replay this moment once he was gone and I was all alone in this impersonal hotel room.
Eventually, he stepped back and opened the door. There was longing in his eyes. I tried to memorize every last detail of the way he looked. Some sort of goodbye was exchanged, but I barely registered what was said.
And then he was gone, and it felt like all the color had drained from the world.
I went to the bedroom, tangled myself up in the blankets and pillows, and breathed in his scent. But instead of offering me comfort, it just made me miss him even more.
As I stared at the ceiling, I asked myself yet again who I’d been before Romy came into my life. I couldn’t even comprehend it now—all those meaningless nights and days, spent in that endless hustle. I’d come to realize it hadn’t just been about Art and meeting his expectations. I’d let myself get caught up in the game, and I’d tried to convince myself that it mattered—the money, the power, the trappings of success. I’d allowed that world to become my life, because I didn’t have anything else to care about.
It all seemed so empty, so pointless, compared to the way I felt with Romy. He was what I lived for now, and I loved him more than anything in this entire world.
I wanted to tell him that, but I didn’t know how. I’d never loved anyone before, and I’d sure as hell never said those words out loud. But it seemed to me that the timing of it was important, and it made sense to let him set the pace. Until then, I’d just have to be patient and try my damnedest not to fuck this up.
Several hours later, I’d forgotten about the book in my hand and was staring at the ceiling again. My heart leapt when my phone buzzed, because I thought Romy might have messaged me. But then I saw it was from an unknown number.
The text turned out to be from one of Art’s former friends and associates, an annoying little weasel of a man. I could only assume he’d gotten my number from one of the dirtbags I used to employ in Vegas. It said: Mario, my boy, it’s Norton Gileki. We need to talk. A lot of people are looking for you, and they’re pretty pissed off.
As if I didn’t know he was at the top of that list. He’d gone ballistic when he found out Art had left me the majority of his assets. Ever since then, he’d been telling anyone who’d listen that he was owed that money, and that he intended to get his hands on it one way or another.
Another text popped up from the same number: I can help. Meet me at the R and J Tavern in an hour.
That was followed by an address. A cold trickle of dread rolled down my spine when I realized it was in San Francisco.
Fucking hell—they’d found me.
I got up and began to pace. What was my next move? Should I run, or stand my ground and confront Gileki?
If I had people to back me up, I’d definitely confront him. No question. But putting a crew together wasn’t even an option in San Francisco, because it would immediately alert the Dombruso family to my presence.
So now here I was, on my own and facing a tough decision. Gileki himself wasn’t a threat, but he’d obviously bring muscle to the meeting. I wasn’t too worried about his bodyguards though, because he’d asked to meet in public. If his plan was to abduct and torture me until I gave up my offshore bank accounts, he really wouldn’t pick someplace with witnesses.
And I could see why he’d want to meet. He had a very high opinion of himself and his skills as a negotiator, so he might actually believe he could convince me to give him a cut of the money. Not that Art had left him high and dry. He’d actually made a point of leaving very generous sums to all his friends and associates, including Gileki. But that was the thing about greed—no amount was ever enough.
While I was pacing, another text popped up: So, you coming or what?
I replied: Give me one good reason why I should take this meeting.