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Quinn and I chuckled.
“Quinn, if you ever need my help, don’t hesitate to call.”
I extended my hand for his and he shook it.
“Thanks Franco. I’ll remember that.”
Six months later, Quinn came to me. He sat in my office hunched over, tapping his foot on the floor. I thought Quinn would explode with anger.
“Hey Quinn. What’s going on?”
“I can’t believe I trusted him, Franco.”
Perched on the edge of my desk, I arched a brow. “Who?”
“My father wants to control my business. Telling me what dishes I should have on the menu. He said he and one of his business partners were coming to check out the restaurant. If he thinks he’ll bring in a partner.” Quinn shook his head.
“He can’t bring trouble to my door.”
Quinn peeked up at me. “Franco, I’m not naïve. I’m aware of the kind of business you’re into. I respect your business sense.” He ran a large palm gruffly over his face.
“Quinn, I understand. First, I’ll loan you the money you’ll need to pay back your father. Then I’ll loan you enough money to run the business on a day-to-day basis.”
His shoulders relaxed. “Thanks, Franco.”
“You’re welcome. Let’s make some money,” I shouted before we shook hands on the verbal agreement.
A couple of months ago, I found out Quinn got a loan from Duke Testa, the mafia boss of Hillsboro and Salem. He was a business acquaintance. We made many lucrative arms deals together. The two of us becoming friends wouldn’t happen. We didn’t see eye to eye on how women should be treated. Wild stories swirled around our circle about his unusual sexcapades. Once he fucked a woman from behind while she was bent over a barrel bobbing for apples. He held her head under water until he came. She almost drowned. That was next level shit. I also liked fucking women from behind, but for very different reasons. I wasn’t into harming women during sex. Hearing my name fall from a woman’s lips while their cunt hugged my cock as they came was pleasurable to me.
Women begged for a deeper connection with me. Being in a relationship wasn’t of interest. My deep, dark emotional issues wouldn’t allow me to love another. Maybe that was what happened when both your parents died on vacation.
I blinked away the memory, then my gaze scanned the quaint restaurant. The sleek, black upholstered leather high back booths and chocolate brown tables gave off an upscale vibe. The cement floors were painted heather gray. Elegant, white light fixtures hung from the ceiling. This was a nice spot. I couldn’t understand why Quinn didn’t just tell me he needed more money. Why did he go to Duke?
“Welcome to Quinn’s Southern Cuisine,” I heard, bringing me back from my thoughts.
I glanced at the waitress. A long sleeve black button-down shirt hugged her breasts the size of grapefruits. The matching slacks accentuated her curves. Her thick thighs caught my attention.
Focus, Franco, you’re here on business. Not to fuck some random chick.
“I’m looking for Quinn,” I said.
“He’s not here,” she replied.
“It’s urgent that I speak to him.” I flashed more of an easy smirk, trying to keep my temper at bay and appear friendly. That was a joke. I didn’t know how to look friendly.
“I don’t know where he is,” she stated.
“Do you know how to get a hold of him?” I asked.
She tapped her foot. “Yes.” Her answer was short and not sweet.
Those thick, pouty lips formed a thin line. Damn, she wasn’t a fan of mine. Did I know her? Maybe I fucked her before and never called her back. No, if I fucked her, I would’ve remembered.
“Ok, can you give him a call? Tell him Franco DeLuca is here.”
“I said I knew how to reach him. I didn’t say I would.”
Her pen hovered over the tiny pad. “What would you like to order?”
