7

Bobby

“Mr. Manghini?” Greta, my secretary, calls me at the construction site.

“What is it?” She knows I don’t like to be bothered when I’m in the field, so the fact that she’s calling means something else has gone wrong.

“There’s an IRS auditor here. He’s demanding to review all your bookkeeping.”

Fanculo.

I grit my teeth. “Did you ask for identification?”

“Yes. He seems legit.” Greta has worked for me for sixteen years. She’s in the Family–the older sister of one of our soldiers–and therefore someone I trust. Not that I ever let her become a party to anything. She’s innocent, yet in the know, generally-speaking, which makes her an ideal employee as far as I’m concerned.

“Okay. Show him whatever he wants to see.”

“Are you sure?”

My books are tight. I may launder Family money through the business, but the paper trail is impeccable. They won’t find anything.

“I’m sure. Nothing to worry about at all.”

“Totally sure?”

“Greta, I appreciate your concern, but there’s nothing to be worried about. It’s fine.”

“All right. I will let him see the accounting.”

I end the call and dial the don. Even though it’s not going to be a problem, he wouldn’t like me keeping him in the dark about anything that involves the government sniffing around our affairs.

“Bobby. You’re interrupting my golf game,” he says when he picks up.

“Then I won’t keep you. Just wanted to let you know I have an IRS auditor demanding to see my books. Nothing to worry about.”

Al’s silent for a moment. Long enough to make me sweat his reaction. “Okay. Keep me posted.”

“Yeah. Will do.” I end the call and shove the phone in my pocket.

Cristo.

I sure as fuck hope things are as clean as I believe because if I bring anything down on the LaTorre family, prison time will be the least of my worries.

Lexi

I walk from the bus stop to my apartment, my feet aching from standing all day. I have eleven hundred and fifty dollars cash in my pocket, a combination of the money Bobby gave me and my earnings this week, which I hope is enough to get the eviction notice off my door. I unlock the front door to the building and take the stairs up to the third floor, so I can eat a bite of food before I find the building manager.

I try my key in the lock.

It doesn’t work.

Fuck! This can’t be. I try again, gripping the doorknob to rattle the door as I try to jam the key in. But the inner portion of the lock is obviously new.

I’ve been officially evicted. I should have come by this morning instead of hanging out in the hot tub at the Four Seasons. I should have at least called the landlord to tell him I had a partial payment.

Maybe it’s not too late.

I race down the stairs, tears burning in my eyes. How stupid could I be, to think I could keep talking my landlord out of booting me? I should’ve moved home with my mom after the accident and paid the bills down over time. Instead, I hid my head in the sand and just hoped things would work out.

Well, they didn’t work out.

And now I have no place to go.

I wipe my face when I get to the manager’s door.

Get it together, Lex.

I draw a breath, pull out my cash and knock on the door.

The manager, a decent middle-aged guy named Gus, answers. “I’m sorry, Lexi.” He looks away.

I thrust the money at him. “This is eleven hundred and fifty dollars. That covers this month, at least, and I can work on chipping down the debt on the rest. I’m so sorry. I meant to come by this morning to give this to you, but I slept somewhere else and didn’t have time before work, but–”

“Sorry.” He shakes his head. I think he actually does regret turning me away. “It’s not up to me. I just do what I’m told, and I was told to change the locks.”

“No, no, no, no.” I’m talking fast like it’s going to make some kind of difference. “Please, Gus. Can you just let me in there for tonight, and I’ll call the landlord in the morning to get it all paid off? I’m sure he’d rather keep an existing tenant and get the money he’s owed rather than find a new renter.”

“That is not true. He’s bumping the rent to sixteen hundred, and he says he has three people on the waiting list for it. I’m sorry, Lexi, but it’s too late. You’re out.”

I try to hold in a sob, pinching my lips together as a couple of tears leak from the outer corners of my eyes. “Can you just let me in to get my stuff?”

“I can’t, Lexi.”

“Just a few essential things? An overnight bag? Who will know?”

“Not until I hear it from the landlord. Call him first thing in the morning and make arrangements to get your stuff. I’ll open the door when he gives me the okay.”

I press my lips together tight and nod, more tears falling.

Gus shuts the door in my face–not like he doesn’t care, but more like he’s sorry, and seeing me cry sucks for him. I almost wish he was more of a dick, so I could be mad at anyone besides myself for this situation.

Dammit! I totally fucked up. I have that “bad girl” feeling I always get when I mess something up. Shameful and small. Guilty.

Weak.

I run down the hall and out the door, heading back to the subway station. I take it to the stop closest to Swank. I can try to talk to the landlord tomorrow. Right now, I need a drink and a friend.

I wasn’t even thinking about finding Bobby. I’m not the kind of girl with rescue fantasies because in my world, that shit doesn’t come true.

But the moment I push through the door, a strong arm wraps around my waist and Bobby pulls me back against him. “Hold up there, doll. Is everything okay? Have you been crying?”

Even though last night the situation with Bobby stressed me out, something in me relaxes now.

I turn in his arms and fail at a smile. “Just a bad day. I could really use a drink.”

“Let’s get you one, then.” Bobby takes my elbow in that take-charge way of his and leads me toward the bar. The moment we arrive, the bartender is there. “The usual, Mr. Manghini?”

“Yeah, and whatever Lexi wants. She’s on my tab for the night. I want you to take very good care of her, understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Two shots of Cazadores,” I order.

Bobby raises his brows. “That bad?”

I try to wipe the misery from my face but probably don’t manage.

“Listen, no strings with the drinks, baby,” Bobby says in a low voice to me. “I had a great time last night, but there’s no pressure. I get the feeling you didn’t come here to see me tonight.”

“No. I mean–”

“It’s all right.” His eyes crinkle. The bartender appears with our drinks, and he picks his up. “I’ll give you some space.”

“No, it’s okay.” I grab one shot and down it, biting into the lime to quench the shudder. “I just have to talk to Gina.” I pick up the second shot, but Bobby places his hand over mine to stop me from downing it. “And then I would love to talk to you. I mean, if you wanted to talk. Oh.” My face heats. “Maybe you don’t want to talk.” Maybe he just wants sex.

“Slow down, doll. Take a breath.” He looks around. “Here comes your friend now.”

Gina struts over, carrying her empty cocktail tray. It never ceases to amaze me that she can stand all night in three-inch heels, but as usual, she’s rocking them with a short skirt.

“I’ll let you two talk,” Bobby says smoothly, leaving before I can answer.

“Hey, what are you doing here? I thought you were headed home.”

Even in my crappy mood, I have to admire her new hairstyle. I did a kick-ass job with it, and she looks great. Hopefully, the photos will get me that job.

“I got evicted,” I blurt as soon as I check to make sure Bobby’s out of earshot. “I’m locked out. I feel like such a loser.”

“Shit.” She gives me a hug. “I’m sorry. Well, you can definitely crash on my couch.”

“Thanks.”

“Do you want the key now?”

I find myself searching the lounge for Bobby’s broad shoulders. He’s gone back to the high-top near the door where he must’ve been when I came in. There are a couple of younger guys there who also look like they belong in the Family with a capital F.

Our gazes lock across the club like he’d been waiting for me to look over. I raise my hand and give a shy wave.

“Mm...maybe after I’ve had a drink or two,” I answer Gina without looking away from Bobby, who is now headed toward me. My entire body turns on like he’s the electrical current, and I just got plugged in.

“Of course. Or maybe you’ll find a better offer.”