Page 11 of Who Said Mobsters Were Scary?
As Isidoro blabbers on about women at train stations with missing lower jaws, I think back on the sequenceof genius decisions that led me to this very moment of making a fool out of myself. Despite my very professional reconnaissance attempt, I still don’t know who the guy from the club was.
And after today?
I think I’d be too embarrassed to ever show my face to him, even if I got the chance to find out.
Chapter 6
It’s taking everything Ihave in me to listen to Madame Kobayashi and not to inappropriately grin like an idiot. I can’t believe the man from last night is here. In the same building.
A snort bubbles up in me, threatening to get out, so I clear my throat to force it down. It settles, but the butterflies in my stomach and the tingling across my skin remain. I felt as if I was being watched earlier, but I thought it was my paranoia flaring because of the cameras.
Who would’ve thought it was because of the guy I ran into last night?
I didn’t imagine it, right? He really was just here, squatting by the potted plants in front of the room…
I bite on the inside of my cheek to stop another smile.No way.What was he doing?It kind of looked like he was trying to spy on me, but he did an impressively terrible job of it so that can’t be it, can it? I still don’t know who he is because the guys haven’t identified him based on thesketch Aran’s friend did, but I’ll hopefully have a name and address in the next couple of hours.
Throwing another glance at the door, I tune out Madame Kobayashi’s unnecessarily detailed explanations. My savior must’ve been having a meal at the restaurant, so he probably ran back down there… but I bet he’s already left. He looked like he’d seen a ghost when our eyes met.
I run my tongue along the inside of my teeth, fighting yet another smile.
If I leave now, can I catch up to him?
“How does that sound, Mr. Akiyama?” Madame Kobayashi says, giving me one of her icy looks as she slides her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose.
I missed half of what she said.Did she catch me spacing out?Offering her one of my slow, charming smiles, I seek out Aran’s eyes. He subtly nods his head in agreement, meaning that she hasn’t strayed too far away from our agreement and whatever she’s said is acceptable to the Akiyama Group.
“I’m happy to proceed as agreed,” I state, shaking hands with her.
“Marvelous. I’ll let my people know you’ll be handling the shipping to Seoul for us.” She snaps her fingers and her four bodyguards stalk inside from the balcony. “Send your father my regards. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”
I dip my head in respect and watch her sashay her way out. One of the men holds the door for her and the other three trail behind. She’s in her late thirties, but you wouldn’t give her more than twenty-five unless you actually knew her age.
“You look agitated. Is everything okay?” Aran says, pinching his eyebrows together.
“He’s here. Or was.”
His scowl intensifies. “Who?”
I aim a huge grin at him, letting the giddiness manifest as something flutters in my chest. “The man from the club.”
Honestly, I’m not sure why I’ve fixated on him so much. Other than him inadvertently saving my ass, of course. The stupid plant hid him enough so I couldn’t really see his face, but those eyes? I couldn’t mistake them anywhere. The blue in them was a lighter hue than last night, but just as potent and curious. Simply thinking back on the shock and confusion in them gets my heart beating faster.
“Really?” Aran shoots me a hard look which betrays suspicion.
As if I’d be making something like this up. “Yeah. But I’m sure he’s left by now.” I gesture the two bodyguards and follow them out the room. “Let me know as soon as you have an ID.”
I’m going over the Herald Security deal for the conference in Bangkok when someone knocks on my office door. Without waiting for an invitation, Aran enters with a tablet in hand.
My stomach flips and my skin crawls with excitement. Closing the laptop, I swivel in my leather chair as my friend sits down and slides the device across the mahogany desk.
“His name is Leon Caruso. Leo to most people. He’s twenty-one. American, though his grandparents are originally from Italy,” Aran starts, lacing his hands together while I study Leo’s ID photo. Like most IDs, it’s kind of shit, but it can’t hide his charm. His big blue eyes are slightly narrowed, like he’s doing his best not to laugh at the camera, and his hair is styled up in a spiky do that despite the effort still gives him a messy, just-out-of-bed vibe. “He studies Business and Sport at the City College in New York, partial scholarship, and…”
I glance up from the tablet when Aran trails off, curious what has him pausing. I don’t really need him to give me the rundown, I’m sure all the info is in the file he’s got on the man, but since he already started, he might as well finish telling me.
“And?”
Aran’s dark eyes wrinkle in the corners ever so slightly as he watches me scroll through the file without really looking at it.
