Dimitri - as expected - didn't say much, a perpetual scowl plastered on his face.
Dinner was rolled out with such practiced accuracy that it left no doubt in my mind that these men frequented this establishment often. Lobster thermidor with sparkling white wine - they certainly didn’t skirt on any expense.
The lull in conversation had my stomach clenching in foreboding. Unease prickled across the back of my neck - this was the moment that Arlo would ask me for what he needed. The time for manners and propriety had dwindled to an end, and if I hadn't been aware that it was coming, I may have missed it entirely and simply shelled out answers. Arlo, even in his old age, was that smooth in his approach - he was far more dangerous than Dimitri.
He led the conversation seamlessly, steering us towards the very notion of the viability and necessity of gala events.
“Gala events are imperative for any business - or Charity,” he dipped his head in acknowledgement to my extra-curricular activities, my fists clenched in my lap as I reminded myself to just breathe, “to raise funds and gain legitimacy.”
Arlo smiled at me, his brown eyes crinkling up as he did so, it all looked so damn genuine.
“Don’t you agree?”
My nails bit into the palm of my hand as I was forced to smile up at him in acknowledgement. What did he expect - me to say no? He had led the conversation in a way that I couldn only give one damn answer to his question.
“Sure,” I smiled tightly.
“I’m so glad you agree, we will actually be hosting a gala event of our own in February next year - lines up with Mardi Gras here quite nicely,” he smiled once more and unease skittered across my skin, “if you’re in the area, you should attend, of course,” he tacked on.
“Of course,” I gritted my teeth and replied.
I was certain that by this stage, my smile looked more like a grimace. I watched as he weaved the fact that he and his ‘business partner’ were having a slight dispute - and how he hoped that it didn’t jeopardize his upcoming function. I found myself nodding along, catching myself more than a few times, mentally reminding myself that Arlo was part of the mafia and that I couldn’t let my guard down.
For an old man, his charisma was hypnotic.
It was all part of the meticulous act that was Arlo. His statements all sounded so normal, and he seemed completely at ease with himself and the situation, that If I didn't know better, it could very well have been some copy-and-paste line from Andrew’s gala event in London.
"Is that so?" I encouraged him to continue. I needed to find out what he required from me. Did he not understand that he didn’t need to woo me or ‘sell’ me on his business. He was already paying The Tarot Club, and for the hefty amount that Charl charged, I doubted wining and dining was a requirement.
But, I wasn’t sure Arlo knew any other way. Perhaps he was either schmoozing or pulling a gun - there didn’t seem to be an inbetween with him.
His eyes shone with my response, and I heard Dimitri grunt from across the table, his eyes still glued to the screen of his phone. I itched to throw the damn thing across the room, rude jackass.
"Yes, and as you can imagine, such minor disagreements can quite easily have astronomical financial implications on the business".
Swirling my half-glass of wine, “For the gala you want to hold,” I added
His eyes shone with mischief as his gaze met mine, the hint of a smile playing at the edge of his mouth. He was delighted that I was playing along with him.
“Yes,” he clapped, “you know, Corinne, I think I like you.”
And wasn’t that the statement of the fucking century. I didn’t know if I wanted to be liked by the Russian mafia in New Orleans.
He placed his own glass of wine on the table and continued, "Currently, we have three options available to us to resolve the situation. The first would be simply to find a new supplier, but I'm not fond of this idea as I've worked for a few years with this supplier and I am comfortable with his quality."
I narrowed my eyes. What business was this? Drugs? Before I could rationalise my thoughts further, he continued.
"The second option would be to simply eliminate the threat and remove this business partner, however, I am concerned he already has a replacement lined up for himself, making this exercise, whilst instantly satisfying, redundant nonetheless."
I gulped. We were definately talking about murder here.
"And the third option would be approaching the supplier and hashing out the situation, but I'm not inclined to show my hand, and I don't want us to come across as weak."
Is he joking? He's worried he will come across as weak? The man seemed to dance where men feared to tread.
I swallowed down the remainder of my wine, "Okay, so you want me to do a reading on all options and present them to you in a way that shows you the outcomes of each possibility?" I asked in understanding.
I felt Dimitri's stare and simply raised an eyebrow in response. His gaze scorched my skin, leaving trickles of heat everywhere his eyes touched. I knew that my cheeks were flushed, worse still, I knew that Dimitri was aware of my body’s reaction to him. Traitorous base primal needs.