“I will call ahead and have the room reserved.”
“You make sure it was cleaned and that Tony was compensated?”
“I did.”
“Did he have any complaints?”
“He was concerned about his niece and inquired as to if he should be worried about her safety. I assured him that she has proven her loyalty and will be under our protection until further notice.”
“Good.”
He looked at me as if he isn’t sure if he should continue.
“Spit it out.”
“He said that she has had to deal with a great deal of violence in her past and he is concerned it might trigger her.”
My hands tighten on the arms of my chair.
“Did he say why?”
“No. He said it wasn’t his story to tell, but that we should be aware if we were planning to spend more time with her.”
He means ifIplan to spend more time with her. I saw the hurt in her eyes when she admitted I wouldn’t be the first to try and kill her. It angered me then, but I was able to keep it in check. I attempt to do the same now.
“She said it was of no concern. We shouldn’t worry about it if she’s not.” I tell him even thought I am worried about it.
“If that’s what she said, then we should trust her.” He repeats, but he seems just about as confident about it as I do.
“Very well. Tell me how the clubs in the Bronx are doing.”
With that I put Sofia in the back of my mind and get back to the business at hand.
∞∞∞
“Hello, Isabella.” I say to the hostess.
She visibly gulps as she looks to Gio and Lo.
“Hello, Mr. Catalini. I have your table all ready.”
I grab her elbow and stop her. “You can call me Bash. You will be seeing a lot of me, so you should use the name my friends do.” I give her a smile, but she seems nervous.
She keeps looking over to Gio. She grits her teeth as she replies.
“Of course, Bash. Right this way.”
I toss a look to Gio who shrugs, but he looks guilty. I assume he slept with this woman and tossed her aside as he often does. Hell, I usually do it as well. Usually I have several different women a week. Since I met Sofia, I haven’t had a moment to even think about another woman. Between her haunting my thoughts and the work bringing the organization back into a positive standing, my days have been pretty full.
As we sit at the table, Isabella turns to me.
“I assume you want Sof?”
“Yes, please.”
I watch as she glances down to look at the new carpet that was put in three days ago. I knew they had to close for a day or two. She seems shook by it.
“Of course, Mr…” I give her a glare and she corrects herself, “I mean Bash.”
