Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
“Don’t sell yourself short,” he says.
“You don’t even know me,” I object, arguing myself out of the most lucrative deal that ever fell in my lap.
“And you don’t know me,” he counters somewhat dangerously.
“Oh.” I sit back, realizing I might have let my hopes get the best of me. “You’re a serial killer.”
“Not a serial killer,” he declares. “Just a law student.”
“But a law student who likes to pay strange women enormous sums to get in his car?” I guess.
“We can meet at the library if you like,” he replies. “I just meant that what seems like a good deal to you is also a good deal for me. I’m willing to take a chance, and honestly, it’s not my money.”
“Whose is it?” I ask, curious.
“It’s family money,” he hedges.
“So you’re rich?” I guess, trying to find a convenient category to fit him in so that I can decide whether to take the deal.
“Would you prefer two thousand a month?” he asks.
“No,” I say quickly. “I just don’t want to make a big mistake.”
“Help me memorize the case law,” he says. “That’s all I’m asking.”
“All right,” I answer with a sigh. “Let’s do it.”
“Great,” he says. “Now, tell me about yourself.”
I launch into my prepackaged job interview question mode, telling him all about my studies and my interest in teaching. He stops me every now and then to ask me to elaborate, which I do. It’s kind of like a job interview, but also kind of like a date. I’m not getting any bad vibes from him, although I can tell there is something he’s keeping from me.
“What’s your phone number?” he asks, pulling out his phone.
I give it to him without hesitation. He thumbs through the buttons and opens his cash app. A moment later, my phone buzzes with the information that I’ve just received two thousand dollars. Hallelujah! I’m in it now, for better or for worse. I just hope I’m not making a mistake. But I need that money, and I’m about eighty percent sure he’s not going to kill me.
“Can we start tomorrow?” he asks.
“Sure,” I agree. “At the library?”
“Actually, would you mind coming to my house?” he hesitates.
Great. I knew this would happen. “What about safe, neutral territory?” I remind him.
“Believe me,” he responds, “there are plenty of people at my place. We won’t be alone.”
“Oh,” I find myself saying. “Like roommates?”
“More like servants,” he answers.
“Hm,” I respond, chewing over that for a moment. If he’s rich enough to have servants, plural, then maybe I will be safe. I decide to bite the bullet and go ahead. How bad could it be? It’s not like my childhood was all shopping malls and birthday parties. My dad ran with a rough crowd—not that I have any plans to share that bit of information with my new client. No one knows my real last name, not even my best friend. “Okay,” I relent. “Give me the address.”
He smiles, holds up his phone, and texts me the address.
Glancing down, I see the zip code is right where I would expect it to be for a large house with multiple staff members onsite. It looks like tomorrow will be a very interesting day indeed. But at the moment, it’s time for me to go home and pay my rent before spending what little I have left on groceries.
I thank Frankie for the opportunity to work with him, and leave the café in high spirits.
CHAPTER 2
FRANCISCO
“If anyone on our payroll is talking then we need to find them,” Giovanni, my brother, states.
Edoardo considers this, “But we don’t know that it is our people who are feeding information to Andretti.” I understand Edoardo’s hesitancy to believe it, but the fact of the matter is loyalty will only go so far when money is involved.
“What other explanation is there for one of his men to conveniently be spotted in the exact location where Francisco was supposed to meet with a supplier?” Giovanni questions.
“Alright,” I say, deciding to settle the matter. “We need to know if we’ve got a leak. I assume you have some suspicions.”
“I could try to dig up some leads,” Edoardo says.
“Do it,” I say, looking at Giovanni to see if he wants to add anything.
He doesn’t.
Edoardo nods and walks out the door, leaving me and my little brother alone. I hate this part of my job. I wonder briefly if I were a regular CEO, would I be having trouble with loyalty. Of course, regular business dealings have their share of espionage, so I’m probably not alone. Still, it feels like I spend way too much time chasing down people who are trying to line their own pockets rather than being focused on the good of the family.
“I’m sure he’ll find them,” Giovanni says, studying the liquor tray from across the room.