Wine, Tarts & Sex

a little bit of paradise: strife-free, laid back, away from everything icky.”

He laughed, understanding the ickiness of the world better than most. “Sure, why not. Let me make a few calls, and when Matt wakes up, we’ll take him somewhere fun. There has to be a park or something around here.”

When he said really sweet things like that, she found herself beginning to feel something way beyond gratitude. Or maybe it was just that anyone who was good to Matt touched her heart. Leo had never actually played with his son. He’d just hired nannies and tutors, clowns and pony rides on birthdays. Roman’s kindness to Matt was profoundly moving.

Although on a purely selfish level, Roman was also a major turn-on sexually. Like he was enormous and after being with Leo, she was dying for a big, husky man who could last.

And could Roman last.

Really, a holiday in the country was just what she needed.

On several levels.

All of them sure to prove highly satisfying.

Twenty-two

Leo strode through Ben’s office in an obvious hurry. “I’ll be out for the rest of the day,” he snapped. “And I won’t be taking messages.”

The outer door slammed behind him, and Ben Connor leaned back in his chair and murmured an explosive, “God damn!”

The phone conversation he’d just overheard made him decide to get his financial ducks in a row. Like cashing in his stock in Leo’s companies, for starters. Janie wasn’t going to go down without a knock-down, drag-out fight. And from what he’d just heard, it wasn’t entirely clear who might win.

Unless Leo recovered that flash drive, he was screwed. Royally.

If Leo was sensible, he’d give Janie a generous settlement, get the flash drive back, and get on with his life. But knowing his boss, Ben didn’t think that was likely.

For one thing, Leo wasn’t rational.

For another, he didn’t like to lose.

Ever.

The detritus in terms of human misery and looted companies Leo had left in his wake were testament to his ruthlessness. Which thought prompted Ben to make sure he didn’t join that woeful debris. Flipping through his Rolodex, he dialed his broker. That Cal was also his ex-college roommate was reassuring. The kind of divestiture he was planning might raise questions with anyone other than a trusted friend. He’d give Cal enough information so he understood that Leo might be going through an expensive divorce. The real story would have to wait until such a time as Leo was indicted, and if that never happened, so much the better for his own long-term plans.

Ben had always understood that he wasn’t working for a saint. Not that saints were much in evidence in corporate America. The camel-through-the-eye-of-a-needle thing that had been around for a couple thousand years, a case in point. “Cal-Ben here. How’re you doing? I’m good- good. Yeah, yeah, still hanging in there. I’m chasing down the record. Yeah, no shit. Anyway, I have some trades I’d like you to handle. I want to move some of my portfolio to safer ground. Cash maybe-no, I’m not skipping the country. I’m just in a cautious mood.”

Twenty-three

While Ben Connor was seeing that his financial security wouldn’t suffer because of his boss’s malfeasance, Leo was driving through the Lincoln Tunnel heading for Jersey.

Due to the confidential nature of his upcoming meeting, Leo had dispensed with his driver. He was also using a nondescript sedan for the same reason. Being inconspicuous was essential.

The neighborhood restaurant he walked into some forty minutes later had just opened for the day; the waiters were setting up for lunch. The manager behind the cash register acknowledged him with the merest nod, then pointed to a table at the rear of the room where two men were seated.

When Leo sat down, the younger of the two men silently rose and walked away.

“What can I do for you, Leo? It’s been a while.” The well-dressed, older man with manicured nails, close- cropped gray hair, and a Florida tan smiled faintly. “I was thinking you might have found new facilitators.”

Leo shook his head. “Everything’s been running smoothly-at least up until now. I haven’t needed your services. By the way, thanks for your prompt response. I appreciate it.”

“You sounded as though you needed something in a hurry.”

“I do. The usual terms?”

“The same. Cash. Untraceable. We’ll pick it up.”

“My wife just left with my son. I want him back.”

“Sorry. We don’t mess with women or children.”

“I know, I know. I’ll deal with that myself. What I need from you is a little something she took with her when she left-a flash drive from my personal computer. She copied all my files. I need that flash drive back. And I need it quickly.”

“That’s why I don’t like computers. Nothing’s safe,” the man grumbled. “With all these crazy kid hackers or the feds sticking their noses in everyone’s business, better an accountant or tax attorney you can trust.”

Leo frowned. Far be it for him to argue with a man whose operation was still essentially brown-bagging it; international banking was slightly more complicated. “My computer files are more personal than anything else,” he lied. “But still, I wouldn’t want her to sell them to the highest bidder.”

The gray-haired man grinned. “She got your Bangkok pictures?”

“She has a little bit of everything, I’m afraid.” Another lie, not that it mattered with either one of them. “Can you help me out or not?”

Leo’s facilitator flicked his manicured fingers in a dismissive gesture. “Of course. Where do we pick up this flash drive?”

“In Minnesota. But I don’t want my son frightened. So no rough stuff-just a quick snatch and run.”

“Look, no offense, but I doubt your wife is going to just hand it over.”

“I know. Work it out any way you have to. Just so no one lays a hand on Matt, and I’m fine. Understood?”

“We’re businessmen just like you, Leo. We don’t get physical. People understand they’re better off cooperating with us. It’s that simple.”

Leo nodded. “Good. Perfect. You always come through, Carmine. I appreciate it. Here’s the address. Let me know when you want me to pick up my package and where you want your payment delivered. It’s a pleasure doing business with you.”

“Likewise.”

As Leo left the restaurant, the man at the table watched him, a smirk on his face. Dumb fuck, he thought. Why does the stupid shit keep marrying the broads?

Twenty-four

“Leo, darling, I hate to see you so upset.” Hannah Reiss glanced at herself in the mirrored wall opposite her. Thank God she looked good, even in this terrible light in this horrid dive that Leo insisted had the best steaks in town. “Not that you don’t have every right,” she added, taking pains to make her voice softly sincere. “For that woman to take your son from you is… really… criminal. ”

“Damn right it is. But she’ll get hers,” Leo grunted, flicking a glance upward from his twenty-two-ounce steak. “You’re not eating. Don’t you like your steak?”