“I didn’t know we were doing casual Fridays,” the playful voice of Dean says from behind me as he comes through the door with the confidence of a man who didn’t just have to take a detour to the bathroom over spicy noodles. He’s good at putting on an act, but I know everything. I can see through it.
I raise an eyebrow at him. “I wasn’t anticipating a meeting tonight.”
“Anything serious?” he asks, pulling out a chair beside Amy.
“Yes,” I reply, crossing my arms.
“Oh, shit,” he mutters, sliding into his seat and adjusting his posture.
“Shit is right, Dean, but I’ll give you all the scoop once everyone else arrives,” I grumble. I’m already beginning to feel tired. It’s times like this when I would’ve asked George to grab me a cup of instant coffee, but he’s not with us anymore. It’s a damn shame.
I glance over at the end of the room, spotting a pot of brewed coffee next to the projector out of the corner of my eye. That will have to do.
The room is quiet as I walk over to it, as though nobody is allowed to speak until the meeting begins. In reality, I think everyone else is just as tired as I am. They’ve all had busy weeks.
I tap two knuckles against the glass side of the coffee pot, feeling the temperature of the dark brown liquid inside. To my disappointment, it’s cold, but I should’ve expected that. It’s probably been sitting here since this morning.
Still, I need something to keep me going, so I grab a paper cup and pour the cold coffee out until the cup is three-quarters of the way full. Then, in one motion, I put the coffee pot down and throw back the cup, drinking the cold and bitter liquid in two large gulps. It tastes terrible, but it’ll wake me up.
“Alright,” I exclaim, halfway sighing the words out as I turn around.
Two more people have entered the room while I was facing away from the door. They slipped in without a sound.
“You,” I say, pointing a man I’ve never seen before. “Introduce yourself.”
He stands up, smoothing his black necktie down against his white shirt. “Sean, sir. I’m in charge of weapons distribution for the Dormer Mafia.”
“Not anymore,” I say, taking a step toward him. “Amy handles weapons. You have a new job, as of today.”
Sean looks toward Amy nervously. I bet he’s worried that I’m going to have him killed or something ridiculous like that. I’m not such a savage, but many people assume I am because of my intimidating appearance. I’m used to it.
“My assistant, George O’Brian, was stabbed to death in the Calandro estate shortly after my wedding. I’m going to need you to investigate this with your men.”
“Our numbers are quite large, sir. I have at least five-hundred men directly under me,” Sean squeaks, as though it were a problem.
I smirk. “Then, I guess this should be easy for you.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to allocate resources toward the weapons operation?” he asks, still trying to reclaim his lost job.
“Use as many men as you need to in order to transfer operations over to Amy,” I tell him. “Then, you are to investigate George’s murder. I suspect something is up, but I’m not sure what. George doesn’t have enemies. I do.”
“Very well,” Sean replies, stiffening up.
I can tell he’s not happy about the sudden switch, but I’m not in the mood to cherry-pick roles. I’m sure it won’t be easy getting everyone reassigned with this major merge, but it must be done. Feet will be stepped on, and feelings will be hurt, but we’re not in kindergarten. They’ll get over it.
“Now, Amy, I want you to make sure that you take care when reassigning roles within your organization. I don’t want to hear about anyone being thrown under the bus just because they originally belonged to the Dormer portion of our mafia. Do you got that?”
Amy nods, just as briskly as she always does.
“Good,” I say, then I turn to Dean. “You’re in for a trip, my friend. Since we’ll be funneling approximately twice as much money through our organization, I expect that this will be a problem with your current resources. Am I correct?”
Dean’s eyes widen, and he nods his head. “I’m not prepared to take on bigger numbers without causing waves. There’s only so many shitty noodles I can claim to sell at such a small store.”
“Understandable,” I say. “Then you’re going to have to expand. I’m having my accountant allocate funds toward opening a few more places, but you’re going to have to keep the sanitation ratings up if you don’t want them to go under. I expect a lot from you, and it’s not going to be easy.”
“Understood, sir,” Dean says, rising to the challenge.
That’s why I picked him. He might be a goof half the time, but he gets the job done without complaints.
“Alright, and you,” I say, looking over to a smallish man in a grey overcoat sitting at the table. I don’t recognize him, so he must be with the Dormer boys.
He stands up and speaks in a voice much lower than his short stature implies. “My name is Henry, and I cover security.”
“Shouldn’t you have been fired two weeks ago?” I ask, squinting my eyes at him. I can’t imagine him being kept on after the disastrous desert trip that killed Honey’s father.
A smirk flickers across Henry’s stout face. “Brian was fired, or should I say, chopped up and scattered across the city in small black garbage bags. I’m his replacement.”
I let out an amused breath through my nostrils. I like this guy.
“Alright,” I say. “Your security detail is going to be watching out for Honey, first and foremost. I’m
