Page 154 of Made in Love and Blood

“No. Better.”

It was the best he could do.

“Well, the baby wants ice cream,” she said.

That earned her a chuckle. “The baby,” he returned playfully, “is the size of a cherry.”

Or some such size. He couldn’t remember exactly what she told him that morning as she woke him up with the best head he’d had. She didn’t do that very often, and he knew why, so when she gave herself over to him in that way...it did something wild to him.

“Well, the baby wants ice cream,” Carina repeated seriously.

“Ice cream for Carina, it is.”

Her laughter chased him out of the office, and all the way downstairs into the kitchen. She leaned in the kitchen entryway as he showed her the different options from the two-door freezer. She settled on a chocolate coated waffle cone with vanilla ice cream topped with caramel and peanuts. His phone started to ring as she suggested, “I bet someone outside might like ice cream, too,” she said over her shoulder as he picked up his phone without looking at the ID. “Olive branch, baby.”

“Caio,” Salvatore greeted the caller, winking goodbye to his wife.

“Guess what your fucking golden boy did for me today?” asked Big Mike on the other end of the line.

Sal didn’t have the first clue what the man could possibly be talking about, except Nico. “Is this a good call or a bad one?”

“You think I’m calling if he’s fucking up?”

“I think you should,” Salvatore returned easily. “Yeah.”

“Well, he isn’t. I saw him for an hour in the late afternoon, he showed up at the Deli. You know we’re closed in the afternoon on Sundays, right?”

“Of course.”

“Right, well, he brings me coffee, picks up a mop, and mutters something about quitting smoking. I let him clean because who the fuck am I to turn down free labor? Me and Vauhn are just watching him crawl out of his fucking skin and I knew it wasn’t from a lack of cigarettes.”

“Are you getting around to a point?”

By now, Salvatore had pulled three ice creams from the freezer and set them, in the wrappers, to the counter.

“Said he took his girl to Chicago this weekend,” Big Mike said.

Salvatore cleared his throat. “Oh?”

“He didn’t mention her name, Sal, but I know. I was standing on those steps helping my wife down because you know she wore the worst shoes for that night. I heard what got said, I heard it all.”

“Do you want confirmation, or something?”

“No, but he kept her name out of it. What I’m about to tell you, he didn’t name her, but father to father, I want you to know.”

“Know what?”

“They partied, picked up tainted shit. He barely let her taste it, but he about died. I guess Carmine Marino came in at just the right time. Does any of this sound familiar to you?”

He had to be honest. “No, but Carmine had strict instructions regarding his communications with me this weekend.”

That man was another goddamn problem in his life that he hated the thought of dealing with.

“Hmm,” Big Mike muttered back. “Anyway, father to father, talk to your kid.”

“What was all that golden boy shit you threw in at first? Just for fun?” Salvatore asked, slightly annoyed.

“No, he is a go-between that I’m gonna use. He’s got the in and knows about clubs in Chicago. It’s an easy few hundred thousand a month between the two. He was practically shaking at how he’d fucked up but that mind of his couldn’t let go of how he could turn that situation around in more than one way. Kind of crazy, ain’t it?”