Irrevocable (Evan Arden 5)

Cody has a song stuck in his head. He keeps tapping his foot rhythmically, making himself stop and then tapping again. I watch his mouth to see if he lip-syncs some words, but he doesn’t, so I have no way of knowing what song it is. I don’t listen to a lot of music, so I probably wouldn’t recognize the lyrics anyway.

Becca is taking copious notes, and I wonder if she’s also taken on all the secretarial duties, not just inventory. She nods at everything Rinaldo says, but she must be jotting everything down in shorthand or something because her notes are far too brief.

Beni interjects a lot in a thick Italian accent. He’s trying; I can see that. Many of his ideas are shot down by Rinaldo, but that doesn’t stop Beni from interrupting the next time he has half a thought. Whenever he catches Lucia’s eye, he winks at her.

Something is off, but I can’t figure out what.

I’m typically very perceptive. Most people don’t realize it, but they give away little clues about their lives all the time. It might be the way they are standing or sitting, or it could be how they react when someone asks them a question. I’ve always watched for such things, but I feel as if I’m off my game.

I need another hooker.

I’m agitated, and it’s taking every ounce of control I have to not visibly fidget. Paulie flicks his revolver’s safety on and off with his thumb, and it’s pissing me off. I’m tempted to pull my Beretta out, release the safety, and point it at his head. I rub my fingers into my temple instead.

A woman walks into the room. She’s tall with wavy, dark blonde hair and bright pink fingernails. She’s dressed casually in jeans and a fuzzy black and white sweater. I’ve never seen her before, but her presence doesn’t impact the other members of Rinaldo’s crew as she walks straight over to him and leans close, whispering.

Rinaldo smiles at whatever she’s said to him. He gives her a nod and a peck on the cheek before she walks back out, closing the door behind her.

“Who’s that?” I ask Jonathan.

“Felisa,” Jonathan informs me. “She’s been around for a few months. She was studying in New York or somethin’ before she moved here. She’s family.”

“Whose family?” I ask. “Rinaldo’s?”

“Not directly,” he says. “But in the family, ya know. First gen. She’s a Bianchi, I think.”

I nod as my mind begins to work, replaying her interaction with Rinaldo. His slight kiss had seemed innocent enough, but his gaze had followed her out of the room in a more intimate way than he’d look at a niece or a cousin.

Rinaldo screws around on his wife, and she knows it. Gabriella Moretti, known as Lele, is a traditional mob wife. She knows both her husband’s business and her place in it. She never interferes and usually just stays the hell away from the dirty parts. Lele is a fantastic cook, and for that reason alone, Rinaldo would never jeopardize his relationship with her. He’s messed around with hookers and club dancers but never someone in the business.

I don’t like it. Something about her immediately sets me off, but I don’t know what it is.

The meeting ends, and Rinaldo dismisses the group. There’s a lot of milling around as the crew discusses the details of the plan, and I use the opportunity to officially meet Rinaldo’s new security.

“Evan Arde

n,” I say as I reach my hand out to Paulie.

“Paulie Vecini.” He takes my hand and squeezes it tighter than necessary. The lame display of testosterone is almost comical. “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

“It didn’t last,” I say with a shrug.

He laughs.

“Well, welcome back.”

“Thank you,” I reply politely. “If there’s anything you need from a security standpoint, let me know.”

“I’m pretty sure I have everything under control,” Paulie says as he squares his shoulders and stands up straighter. He already has a few inches on me, and the act is as amusing as his handshake.

People who feel the need to demonstrate their physical size as a means of intimidation are usually very insecure about their abilities. I’m positive Paulie is no exception to this rule. He narrows his eyes as he evaluates me, and the smug half-smile he displays is an indication that he doesn’t believe all those “rumors” about my skills.

I’m fine with that—let him underestimate me. That could play to my advantage at a later date.

“Evan!” Rinaldo calls.

I excuse myself from Paulie and head over to the boss.

“Evan, meet Beni Segreti.”