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But I wasn’t one to be fucked with.
Weston huffed. “Those are all unsubstantiated rumors,” he said, his tone clipped. “Trying to undercut the competition by bad-mouthing them won’t win you any favors.”
I pressed down the urge to slit his throat and smiled instead. “Of course. So sorry for my impertinence.” I laid a hand on my chest to show my remorse. “It’s been a tough day. Why don’t we have another drink?”
The grin returned to his thin lips. “Now, that’s more like it.”
I chuckled as I turned on my heels and led him through the building to the bar. As soon as the preppy girl bounced over to us with a big smile on her face we ordered.
“Two bourbons, something aged and top shelf,” I said as I passed a tip over the bar to her.
“Right away, Mr. Vitale.”
As she poured our drinks, I glanced off to Benito. He nodded, one fast subtle movement to get on with it.Well, I don’t have all night. After all, I’m in a time crunch.This was just the first stop on theI work too damn hardtour.
“Oh, I meant to tell you those cigars came in,” I said as I turned back to Weston in time to grab my drink. “Do you want to take a look? I stashed them upstairs before the party started. Don’t want anyone snagging those, you know?”
The man chuckled. “I have a hard time believing anyone would be stupid enough to steal from you.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised,” I said. “Follow me.”
“Lead the way.”
He stayed behind me as we climbed the stairs to the second floor of the grand old house. It was used often for these kinds of parties and for good reason. It was historical, out of the way, private, and with just enough dark spaces. Every CEO in town had their urges, and what better way to get a fix than in a place like this? Wives were none the wiser. The press was contained; it was the perfect place to indulge.
We moved into one of the empty offices. As soon as Weston was inside, I locked the door.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Ensuring our privacy,” I said calmly. I walked over to the desk and pulled out a box of Cubans. When I met his gaze, he still looked nervous, but seeing the cigars calmed him.
“Excellent,” he said, a grin stretching his face. “Should we smoke one now?”
“I was hoping you’d ask,” I chuckled, using that upscale, cheesy laugh that made me want to barf. I pulled two free from the box and rounded the desk. I offered one to him but pulled it back right before it was within his meaty grasp. My smile fell away. “Let’s have one after you accept our bid.”
Weston’s face fell. Anger took over his features, red spreading from his neck to his ears.
“I already told you that I would make the best decision for my company.”
“You want to make the best decision for your overly stuffed pockets,” I snapped. “And you’re wearing my patience paper thin. So, let’s try this one more time.” I yanked him forward by his shirt collar, his eyes so wide it was almost comical. “You’re going to give the contract to us.”
“I-I won’t be pushed around by a bunch of no-class Italian trash!”
Real laughter bubbled from my lips. “Oh, I wouldn’t have said that.” I walked over to the door, turned the lock, and yanked it open. “Hold him down.”
I had to give our men one thing, they moved fast. They swarmed Weston, taking him down as they slapped tape over his mouth. Not that anyone down below could hear us anyway, but if he screamed too loudly, they might. There was no point taking too much of a risk, even if I thought it was funny. Benito’s orders were finite.
“Open his shirt, but be careful. Don’t hurt his face or do anything too visible, you know? Can’t have him walking out of here looking all fucked up.” I clipped the end of the cigar and pulled a matchbook from my pocket. I sucked in thick smoke before I blew it out. When I crouched beside Weston, his eyes were wild, sweat decorating his forehead.
I slapped his round belly. “Alright, let’s try this conversation a better way.” I shoved the cigar against his stomach. He screamed against the tape, and I glared at the newbie.
“Sorry, Giancarlo.” He slapped a hand over the tape.
“Better.” I turned back to Weston. “I want that contract.” I shoved the cigar onto another spot of flesh. The smell of singed hair and skin burnt my nose. “You’re going to give it to me.”
He panted so hard I was sure he would hyperventilate at any moment. Up and down his chest rose, every action shuddery. I chuckled. Weston wasn’t so tough on his back with his belly exposed, now was he?
“Are you going to give us the contract?”
