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"This lead you mentioned. What is it?" she demands of me as a server delivers her a martini.
I pick up the menu. “I’m starving.” I turn to the server. “I’ll have what she’s having.”
Lana's lips thin in annoyance, but she doesn't push it. She knows I hold all the cards right now.
“Gin or vodka?” the server asks.
“What’s hers?”
“Gin.”
I arch a brow. “Old school. Gin. Dirty.” When the server leaves, I open the menu. “What’s good here?”
"Miss D'Amato! What a pleasure to see you." A well-dressed man approaches, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "And who is this?"
"Just a business associate, Marco," Lana says smoothly.
I arch a brow. The last thing I need is to be seen as a Mafia associate.
“The usual for dinner?” Marco asks, leading me to think he’s the manager.
“Yes. And for my guest as well.” She smirks at me.
“Very well.” Marco takes my menu away.
Okay, I’m amused when I should be irked. “So, what am I having for dinner?”
“Lobster risotto.”
My wallet cries. There’s no way anything with lobster isn’t expensive.
“My treat,” she says, and I get the sense that she’s poking at my manhood. Like I can’t pay.
“Perhaps it will be worth the expense. You’ll be glad you took me up on my offer.” Tit for tat, right? Except, I should still pay. My ego requires it.
“Well, since you’ve finally gotten me alone, what are you going to do with me?"
I lean in, matching her flirtatious tone. "Well, that depends on how cooperative you're feeling, Ms. D'Amato."
She laughs, a sound that's both musical and dangerous. "Oh, I can be very cooperative when properly motivated."
I feel a thrill run through me, equal parts excitement and warning. I need to tread carefully.
"Then let's start with a toast," I say, raising my water glass. "To new partnerships."
Lana clinks her glass against mine, her eyes never leaving my face. "To… whatever this is. Now, about that lead on my brother.”
I lean back in my chair, studying Lana's face as I decide how to approach this delicate subject. "Let's start with the basics. Why did you file that missing persons report for Lazaro?"
Lana's eyes flash with a blend of emotions—anger, frustration, and something that looks suspiciously like pain. "Because my brother is missing, Detective. Isn't that reason enough?"
"Most people in your… line of work don't involve the police in family matters," I point out carefully.
She lets out a bitter laugh. "That’s your problem. You watchThe GodfatherorGoodfellasand think that’s how things work.”
I shrug. She’s not entirely right. I know that since the 1990s, the Mafia has declined. With advances in surveillance technology and the police figuring out how to use the RICO act, the Mafia operates more in the shadows and cominglestheir ill-gotten goods with legitimate businesses. I imagine this restaurant launders some of their money along with selling lobster risotto.
“So, how does it work?”
