Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 117010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 585(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 585(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
“I need a favor.”
“Anything, shoot!”
“Fontaine is getting ready to do something. When he’s done, I need you to pull whatever strings you can and make sure he gets a light sentence.”
“A light sentence for what?”
“You’ll see in the next couple of days.”
“We won’t be here.”
“I know; that’s why I’m giving you a heads-up now. Just make sure the lawyer is on standby.”
“Boy, what’re you doing?”
“Me, nothing, he’s the one who’s about to break the law.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Because I’m the one who’s gonna push him to it.”
“Geez, Gabe, what now?”
“Nothing, nothing for you to worry about.”
“You been talking to your grandfather?”
“Leave gramps out of it; he hasn’t done anything.”
“Yeah, okay. What should I tell the lawyer when I call?”
“Just tell him to expect a call in the next few days or so.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah, make sure he knows to get the best deal he can.”
“You’re not gonna tell me what this is about?”
“The less you know, Pop.”
I left him looking flabbergasted, but it’s too complicated to get into, and just in case things don’t swing the way I expect, it’s best not to say anything more at this juncture. If things do go down the road, I expect, well then, it will become self-explanatory real quick. Next up, Gianna. She’s been flitting around here with that ankle-biter like a little fairy with new wings; happy as I’ve ever seen her.
That’s because I’ve been spoiling the hell out of her, making sure she’s not outdone by the Russo twins and their fashionista bullshit. Now I have three divas on my hands. The thing is, the Russo women are fashion icons, no doubt about it, but Eloise Lyon is on a whole other level.
What I didn’t know, but came in handy, is that she was going to send back jewelry with Tommy after he made the run to her place, which I ended up using as an excuse when Pop stuck his nose in, wanting to know what his guys were doing in Virginia. He didn’t quite believe me; I don’t think, maybe because of the look of surprise on my face when they offloaded the trunk at the front door.
Thankfully the girls and Ma went ape shit at the goodies and distracted him, so I’m in the clear there. I wasn’t telling him about the storage unit and why I’d had the stuff moved because that would’ve led to more questions that I’m not ready to answer. Just in case Fontane gets cold feet. Besides, if Pop knows what I’m up to there, he’d have me Shanghaied and kept out of Europe, so no.
Anyway, last night this place was a mess with females running around like headless chickens, and I’ve never seen the twins or Ma so humbled before. Their shit is nothing to sneeze at; dad has accounts at some of the best jewelers in the world. The shit Gianna’s grandmother sent looks like it was made in the sixteen hundreds and was kept in a vault in somebody’s castle somewhere. No doubt, those three will be the shining stars.
So, all in all, she hasn’t had time to dwell too much on the shit that went down in her family home. It’s like out of sight, out of mind, at least I’m hoping that’s what it is and that she’s not just hiding her true feelings from me. I found her fiddling with her luggage for the one-hundredth time since we were leaving in the morning.
“What’s with the face?” I walked over for a hug because she likes hugs. She also wears her emotions on her face, and if I walk into a room and don’t hug her, she pouts. That’s been giving me some stress, but I can’t bring myself to put some much-needed space between us. I keep putting it off, not wanting to spoil this for her, but knowing it will all come to an end soon.
I’ve even been playing around with the idea of giving us some more time, but that all depends on what I find in Sicily and how long it’s going to take for me to do what I have to do there. It’s not like I’m expecting to take care of Ricci in one night. Ricci’s a heavy hitter, and he plays in some very dirty waters. I know once I go after him, things will get sticky, so even if I wanted to hang onto her for a while, it might not be the most prudent thing to do.
I guess this is what they call cold feet. I know what I have to do, know that there’s no way around it, but as the time draws near, I find myself looking for ways and excuses to hang onto her just a little bit longer. When she’s like this, soft and clingy, I find it hard to imagine not being there for her. “I’m worried about Thor.”