by K. Forest
Suddenly she breaks down with big, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. “Thank you, Bossman. I promise not to let you down.”
I don’t know what to say to her emotions. “Don’t get too used to my gratitude, Maria. I have set some very high expectations of you and don’t expect to be disappointed.” She brushes her cheeks then proceeds to give me one of her usual salutes.
A short time later, I arrive at the boathouse and am greeted by Angelo who’s wearing swim trunks. Guess he picked our activity. “Hey, how did your meeting go with blue hair emo? She’s pretty under that blue disguise. How old is she? She has hardly any boobs. Where did you meet her?” Angelo asks full of curiosity.
“As expected,” I answer his first question, ignoring all the rest. “I’m going upstairs to change. I’ll be down in a few minutes, then we can head out.” I am not ready to share my future plans with him just yet.
“Epic videos!” Sam says later that evening as Angelo shows our wakeboarding afternoon to him. We are sipping beers on the terrace, enjoying stories of our tricks and mishaps.
Mateo joins us taking the seat next to me on the chaise lounge. “Heard the little she-devil is taking up in my old crib. That was very generous of you.”
“I granted her a free get-out-of-jail pass. I have a good hunch about her, but it’s up to her now.” I answer Mateo looking at him as I sip my beer. He nods and looks over to Angelo and Sam. “Did you tell him about the Garza plan?”
I shake my head. “Not the whole plan, but yeah, they’re more or less caught up. Angelo’s going to set a meet up at Axel’s this weekend.” Axel is on board with hosting the meeting.
Mateo, though, doesn’t look convinced. He gives me a worried frown. “All right, we wait for confirmation from Garza Jr. In the meantime, I am going to double check everything. I mean it, Sonny. I may be going along with you, but I’m one hundred percent uneasy about the whole thing. Lots of shit can go wrong.”
“I’m confident that it will work out, and you should be too. You know better than anyone I don’t plan anything unless I’ve considered everything.” I tip my bottle towards him in salute.
“Asshole,” he says as he clicks my bottle.
In my room that night, I put the finishing touches to the main lobby level design of the Vegas property. The lobby will be the fifth floor of the hotel, with four floors below ground and fifteen more above the lobby. This twenty-floor structure will be my prized showcase that will dictate all future projects.
My phone chimes that I received a message. Opening my phone, I realize I had become so engrossed with my designs that I hadn’t heard any message alerts and had missed a few texts.
The first one was from Claudette. I got the internship at the MET, starting end of July. SOOOOO excited! Yay me!
I smile, knowing this is her dream job and hoping it will end up in a full-time position for her. I respond back, Well done Claudette. Knew you would get it as there can’t be anyone more qualified than you. I add to the text, Still coming to the surprise birthday? :)
Seconds later, she responds, are you kidding? Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.
Scrolling down, I see text from my mother. Hi Sweetie, I had Dr. Doyle send your friend available opening dates. Love, Mom
I chuckle at the fact that she signs it ‘Mom’, as if we don’t know it’s her. Thank you and I love you, your son.
I hear a knock on the door. “Come in.”
Angelo enters and flops himself comfortably on my bed. “We are all set for Friday at 23:30 at Drago. Axel is closing the XXX club off to the public, so it’ll be strictly reserved for us. Sam will be overlooking the security. Once they enter the room, all cell phones will have their signals jammed to cut off outside communication.” He’s lying on his back staring up at the ceiling. “Why do I feel you are withholding information from me?”
I turn around and look back at my computer. I don’t want to lie to him; however, I have no doubt in my mind if I tell him everything, he will definitely cancel the plan. “Len made a crap deal, and I’m just doing them the favor of clearing them from the debt. Plus, I like their whiskey and aim on investing in their company and bringing it to all our venues in the States.” I hope I’ve said just enough that he buys into it and lets the conversation go.
“These guys are low barrel eaters, but they make a big commotion wherever they go. They’re pains in the asses.” Angelo says.
I turn my chair back around facing him. “And that, my brother, is why I’m entrusting you with leading the operations of the meeting.”
The next day after my morning ritual swim, I headed to the garage to make some adjustments to the Ducati. Satisfied with everything, I head back to the boathouse to see what Angelo is up to.
My cell pings, and I see it’s a text from Lia. Up for a raincheck tonight?
I respond, I'll have to take a raincheck on the raincheck. Not that I don’t want to spend all night with you. Tomorrow?
I look and see she’s typing a response. ;( Can't. Packing then heading to Milan to catch flight to NYC. Thx again for arranging things for Len. See you when we return.
Shit if I didn’t have to get her out of their mess, I would be wrapped up in her tonight. Frowning to myself, I send her, :( Safe travels.
“Why the frown, buttercup?” Angelo snaps me out of my thoughts.
“Nothing that concerns you.” Not wanting to discuss Lia with him, I change the topic “Been tweaking the Ducati; it’s purring like a kitten. Starts on the first kick each time. I took her on the Silberstrasse, hitting the apex spot on each corner. I’m going to take her tonight to the club.”
“Nice weather. Perfect for a ride,” he comments. “I’m having Sam pick me up early to make sure everything is set up before Garza arrives.”
I nod, silently thanking him for his part in the meeting.
Chapter 9
When we arrive at the club about an hour before our meeting time, Axel directs Mateo and I through the back entrance to avoid the main club. As planned, we are the only ones occupying Club XXX besides some strippers who have been hired for the night. I take a chair in a secluded corner and wait, sipping sparkling water. Mateo hangs by the bar with Angelo, feeding him drinks. I don’t need him to be wasted, just drunk enough for him to realize his reflexes are off.
The oval, gold-dusted bar takes up one whole corner of the room. The room’s decor is swathed in purple and plush red velvet. A large stage with a ceiling-to-floor pole dominates the other side. Oversized chairs which allow plenty of room for lap dances are scattered throughout cornered areas. Usually curtained off to allow privacy, tonight the drapes are drawn back. Couches and chairs with tables all facing the stage make up the rest of the room. A few naked women, along with leather-clad doms, are sitting or walking around. Overhead, there are swings and golden cages filled with women and even a few men. I notice there are only two points of entry and exit.
Moments later, Axel directs Garza Jr. and his entourage enter discretely through the same back entrance as planned. As Axel seats them at a table, the waitresses immediately supply each man with a welcome shot. Angelo and Mateo slowly meander over and allow Axel to make the formal greetings. Sam is upstairs surveilling the cameras, making sure there’s no ambush.
“Garza,” Angelo reaches out to shake the stocky bastard’s hand.
“Angelo Ferrari, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen your pretty boy face. I was surprised when your friend,” Garza points to Axel, “sent me an invitation to this fine establishment on your behalf. Does this mean I’m an honorary member now?”
I know it’s killing Angelo not to say something sarcastic and demeaning. I notice he’s discretely clenching his mouth and fists, but he shakes it off, reeling himself in.
Watching him in action, I’m impressed. No one but me would even notice the disdain he has for Garza. After he sits down at the table, the waitress brings Angie another drink and walks away. “Let’s get down to business and the reason we wished to
meet with you,” suggests Angelo.
That being my cue, I walk over and reach out my hand. “Good evening, I’m Santos Ferrari, thank you for meeting us tonight.”
Garza looks up at me then over to Angelo with a questioning look. Remaining seated, he extends his hand. “Never had the opportunity to meet the famous Ferrari twins together. To what do I owe this dubious honor?”
After a very brief shake of his sweaty hand, I take a seat next to Angelo and take control of the meeting. I nod to Mateo, and he walks over putting a black duffle bag down in front of Garza.
“What the hell is this?” He asks suspiciously. “What’s in the bag?”
I lean towards him slightly and nod at the bag. “That is the full amount of money you loaned the Leonis, along with a substantial amount of interest.”
Giving a mocking laugh, he looks at me and says, “I wondered who was supplying them with money to pay me back. So, it’s been the Ferraris all along, interesting. Which one of you is shagging the bitch?”
Ignoring his words, I tell him, “As far as we are concerned, the Leoni debt is now officially paid off.”
Inclining his head towards the bag, Garza orders one of his men to open it and count. He turns back to me, “Okay, sure, the loan is paid off. Poof!” He says with a contemptuous laugh, and like a hyena pack, his men follow suit. He’s feeling confident, thinking he has the upper hand.
I clap my hands together not just for affect, but for control so as not to punch his smug, ugly face. Dust particles flare in the air from the action. “Now, on to the second part of the debt the Leonis owe you. To make things perfectly clear, I’m referring to you still holding fifty-one percent shares of Lion Whiskey distilleries. I would like to pay that off as well.” Once again, I’m impressed by how stoic Angelo remains. He had not been privy to this part of the negotiation plan. Knowing him as I do, he’s seething on the inside while maintaining a completely relaxed facade.
Garza takes a healthy sip, his lips making a snapping noise, and leans back. “What are you offering, more money? You know it’s not what I really want.”
Yes, I do know. He wants respect; he wants to step up the ladder of power, and I’m going to offer that to him. Also, I’m guessing he wants his way with Lia and that I’m not about to let happen. Having gotten enough intel on Garza, I know he has been on the top tier of racing. Yet he has never beaten Lia, a.k.a. the mystery rider. He’s vain and possesses an over-cocked attitude, which will lead to his downfall. Another reason why he’s never really succeeded. His old man is going bankrupt just paying for his son’s misdemeanors. He should take the extra money and help his father out.
I begin with part two of my plan. “We race for it tonight. You can even decide the location.”
I look over to Mateo, who walks over again and lays down the legal documents along with a pen. I can see the cogs in Garza’s head moving. He glances over at Angelo, who he knows has dabbled in street bike racing. It’s also not gone unnoticed that Angelo’s been throwing back a few drinks, but Garza still seems a bit hesitant. As Garza casually looks over the document, I throw the last of the bait to lure him in. Slapping my hand down on the document, I pronounce, “What the hell! It’s your lucky night as I’m feeling generous! If you win, we will willingly give you any pick of a motorcycle out of our Ferrari collection.” Reading the immediate interest that appears on Garza’s face, I can feel the deal coming to a close. He’s practically salivating, and his eyes reflect greed.
I look over to a tipsy Angelo and give him nice pat on his shoulders, then look back to Garza Jr. “So, do we have a deal?” I ask.
“The red Ducati I saw walking in?” He asks. I nod yes. Leaning in, he quickly signs the paperwork and has one of his men, probably his first in command, sign as a witness. I do the same along with Mateo and a county clerk who Mateo has worked with in the past to notarize them. Standing up and looking towards a two-way mirror, I signal Sam to start up the music and strobes, finishing the recorded meeting.
“Text in ten minutes with the location, or the deal’s off.” I state.
Licking his lips, Garza stands up taking his copy of the agreement and signals his colleagues to follow him as he heads out the door.
Angelo gives me only a few seconds after the door is securely shut to begin shouting and cursing at me. “Son of a bitch! I knew you were holding back information from me! That’s not how things work in this world! Now I have to race the dick ass, and I’m blitzed.” He picks up a glass and throws it against the wall and proceeds to kick the couch. I ignore his outburst as he maintained his cool during the meeting and now needs an outlet to vent.
Meanwhile, Mateo walks up beside me shaking his head and whispers for only me to hear. “He’s right. We trust each other in this world, or shit happens. I warned you. I’ll be waiting outside. Don’t want to be around when you drop the last bomb that he’s not the one who will be racing. He’s going to completely implode.” Mateo walks out, signaling at the private mirrored window to Sam that he’s leaving.
“Great! Of course, the asshole wants to race Silberstrasse at night, knowing damn well I’m under the influence.” Angelo shouts in frustration, looking at his phone. Garza Jr. must have just sent the location of the race. I was betting on him picking the most difficult, curvy street in the area.
“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not the one racing him.” I stand with my arms crossed waiting for Angelo’s reaction.
Waving his phone in my direction, he locks eyes with me. “This was your plan all along? Hell no! Not happening Sonny! You are not racing that son of a bitch! You betrayed me completely!”
Waiting, while not at all impressed with his rant, I raise my eyebrows at him quizzically. “Are you finished with your temper tantrum?”
“No!” he bursts out, eyes bulging. “I’ve just begun; I will not let you do it! This is Barcelona all over again!” He shouts.
“Angelo,” I plead, “I’m going to need your voice on the mic tonight not Mateo. So, I need you to compose yourself. This is not a rush drunken decision. I’ve thought it all out. Plus, you know that route better than anyone. Let’s go, brother, I’ve got a race to win.” I walk out to find Mateo and Sam to let them know the location. Leaving a stunned Angelo to compose himself, I know he will be there for me.
As predicted, Angelo calms down and gathered himself together in time for the race. After consuming copious amounts of coffee and water to sober himself up, he insists on doing his own pre-check setting up of the chassis. Although I had already checked everything multiple times, I agree he should do it yet again. He needs to be at ease during the race. Inspecting the bike with time-consuming precision and thoroughness, Angelo finally deems it satisfactory. It is also agreed upon that Sam and Angelo would observe the race from the van, prepared to intervene only if necessary.
Mateo and I both arrive at the location with Garza nowhere in sight. Mateo assures us that Garza always likes to make a grand entrance and will most likely arrive at the last minute. It’s a breezy, balmy evening, with a small crowd beginning to form while our names are broadcasted out for final bets to be placed.
The scent of burnt rubber permeates the air. The sounds and smells bring back memories of the first and only illegal bike race I ever attended. I was sixteen and Tony sensed I had interest so, he invited me to go along with him to watch Angelo race. Angelo had recently taken up a new hobby, that of unsanctioned motorcycle racing. My brother had been busy making a name for himself that summer by eating up every contender he was matched up with. Races were held at out of the way locations, usually on back roads of Nevada. Increasingly high speed with the addition of reckless maneuvers escalated the danger for racing participants. That particular night, Angelo was going up against the undefeated king who has held the crown for a number of years. The huge event held much at stake for both parties involved. If the king lost, that would be the end of him—a nobody. If my brother lost, that would make the Ferrari name look weak. Of course, Angelo
went into the race feeling like a boss and left it as the king.
“Angie, can you hear me?” I say into the headset. “I rolled up to the starting line and now waiting for that dip shit Garza to show.”
Seconds later, Angie distinctly responds with reassuring words. “You’re coming in nice and clear Sonny. Don’t worry about Garza. He likes to showboat a grand entrance. Stay focused.” He replies confirming what Mateo stated.
As though Garza heard us, he arrives seconds later revving the throttle as the now massive crowd of cheering fans part and allow him through. Speaking into the mic, I let Angelo know he finally arrived. Dressed in my leather riding gear and my black helmet which totally conceals my identity, I let Garza think I’m Angelo. That’s what I want him to think until I leave him eating my dust as I kick his ass.
Heating up his back tire, Garza makes his way toward me. Pulling up beside me, he lifts his helmet visor up and begins to bait me, boasting that he’s going to beat me. Again, thinking I am Angelo, he tells the crowd I am a has-been while expounding on his own racing prowess. Lastly, he jeers that he is looking forward to beating a Ferrari and taking my Ducati as the prize.
I give him a barely perceptible nod, rather than responding, and gear up for what’s ahead.
Finished with me, he turns to nod at the bimbo standing in front of us and waves her over. Wearing tight jeans, high heels, and a black bikini top, she smiles at him and saunters over. Jiggling her enormous breasts at me for just a moment, she leans into Garza for a sloppy kiss. He proceeds to motorboat her boobs with great satisfaction, then swats her ass as she strolls back to her original position, turning in front of us. Smacking his lips, he shouts for everyone to hear, “Eat your heart out because I’ll be banging those mounds later on. Say goodbye to the Ducati, Ferrari!” He laughs clicking his helmet down.