CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I remove the triangle, but Eric’s question jars me, and I knock several balls out of place. I look over at Tony, whose jaw tightens. Is Eric asking for real?
“You did a lot of this ‘opposition research,’” Tony notes.
Eric grins. “We know the dirt on all our business partners.”
“And, as with your political opponents, you’re not afraid to use the dirt.”
I stare at Tony. He hasn’t refuted Eric’s question.
Eric holds up his hands. “Look, I don’t hold it against your family.”
“You shouldn’t. Your family has its share of shady dealings.”
Eric looks surprised. “Yeah, well, our lawyers say we’re covered. You don’t have to worry about any of that, especially when we’re on the same team. If you ask me, the mafias know how to run business. There’s the godfather, the CEO, that everyone listens to. We’d get so much more shit done in this country if our government was run the same way. So the dude you killed, was he a rival triad member?”
My eyes widen. Tony turns to me.
“My cousin, May, and I were ambushed in Hanoi,” he explains as he continues to look at me. “I was cleared by the court as having acted in self-defense.”
Eric leans over the sofa with rapt interest. “Was it really just self-defense?”
Tony narrows his eyes at Eric. “What are you suggesting?”
“After watching The Godfather movies—best flicks of all time, though Goodfellas is a pretty close second—I’ve wondered if I could ever kill someone. If I had to, you know, because that’s what happens when you’re part of the mafia. My father was approached by the mafia once, decades ago, about a business deal, but my dad wanted to go it alone. When you’re as rich as us, who needs the mafia?”
I can’t quite believe the words that are coming out of Eric’s mouth except that it’s overshadowed by the revelation that Tony killed a man. How involved is he with criminal elements? Somehow I’m not as surprised as I should be. The wariness I felt when I first met Tony returns double.
Before I can form a question, Sierra prances into the room holding a tray. “Guess what I made today—Jell-o shots!”
She’s changed outfits and is now wearing a crop top, shorts that allow her butt cheeks to peek out of the bottom, and platform sandals. Compared to her, I must look frumpy in my sweats, t-shirt and flip flops.
Eric’s eyes light up. “Sweet!”
She plops down next to Eric on the sofa and puts the tray on the coffee table.
“What did you use?” Eric asks.
“Your best bottle of vodka.” She takes a puff on his cigar.
“You ever try a Jell-o shot?” Eric asks Tony.
Tony eyes the jiggling globs with skepticism, “I prefer my vodka straight—without lots of sugar and...green-ness.”
Eric slurps down a shot. “You’re missin’ out. Man, I don’t think I would have made it through college without these babies.”
“Maybe it would be more appetizing taking it off my body,” Sierra offers, pulling off her top to reveal a lacy balconette bra.
“Hell yeah!”
She shimmies out of her shorts and lays over the coffee table in her lacy thong underwear. Eric plops several shots on her midsection. I turn away and watch Tony place the non-red balls in various places on the table.
“What is this game?” I ask. What I want to ask is about what happened in Hanoi, but I doubt he wants prying questions from someone he barely knows.
“This is a snooker table,” he explains.
No wonder this all looks unfamiliar.