by Raven Scott
“For what it’s worth . . . she’s dead, May.” There was nothing I could say to combat that, so I kept my mouth shut, but Oran didn’t pull away even as he cut into his chicken parmesan. For the first time, I wondered if he was such a great listener because he didn’t want to share himself.
11
Oran
“What did you find out?” Holding my secondary phone to my ear with my shoulder, I spoke distractedly as I typed a quick message to May. Sliding the smartphone into my inner jacket pocket, I turned my full attention to Candice as an ominous silence hung over the line. “Well?”
“I don’t know if this constitutes as subterfuge, Oran, but I just got done going through everything Carlyle’s guy sent me, and . . . ” She trailed off, her accent thickening when she continued in a lower tone, and I pushed open the door to the coffee shop with a frown plastered on my face. “I think the whole point of those so-called ‘failed’ attempts was to split the three of you up.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Standing at the back of a surprisingly long line— or maybe not so surprising considering the fact it was Monday— I rubbed my jaw as I squinted to see the tiny letters on the boards hanging overhead. “What do you have to support that?”
“It means exactly what it says, Oran. I think it’s a shoddy attempt to divide and conquer. Those Italians are either purposefully blatant or laughably incompetent. I’m not sure which, yet. Also, I don’t get why they’re trying to take down the Syndicate this way, either. My best guess is they want to take you and Mateo out, and then the old man and Carlyle, most likely in that order. Even that makes very little sense because that’s a lot of targets to take down in a relatively short amount of time to actually have a chance. You’d think they’d be smarter than what this suggests.” Candice sighed in irritation and I rubbed my jaw as that same sensation seared my veins. “You haven’t talked to Carlyle, Mateo’s basically out for the count, and the old man is, well, he’s old. It’s the only plausible explanation I can come up with.”
“Work on it and get back to me when you have more than plausible theories.” Hanging up on Candice, frustration flooded my lungs instead of air, and I exhaled a hard sigh while my mind whirred. It was no secret that Diamon was a damn idiot— he was far too susceptible to bad ideas if they were sold well. The kid was definitively not his father, and that senile old bastard had done well in his time. The Italian Mafia was old, well rooted, and Diamon was trying too hard, too desperately, to make his mark on it.
I didn’t know why Carlyle didn’t just let them all destroy themselves, frankly.
The Syndicate was much cleaner, much more efficient. It embraced the pyramid and the individuals who filled that pyramid. Maybe that’s why Diamon was trying so hard to take us down. He obviously entertained any idea, no matter how stupid or unworkable. The way things used to be wouldn’t work anymore— not in this age of technology and feigned security. Buying off cops and politicians just didn’t work anymore, especially because money was so easy to track. And terror, just plain terror, was the worst idea imaginable.
The traditionalists— the Italians and the Russians, even the lesser known pillars like the Albanians and Irish— they couldn’t adapt fast enough.
Which was why my father was able to create such a global phenomenon so fast, to build the foundation so strongly. He didn’t put too much emphasis on race or develop an ‘us-versus-them’ mentality that got in the way of the ultimate goals.
Power and money.
My phone pinged for attention and I shook my head as I shuffled forward a few steps. This was an issue I could trust Candice to figure out— she was good at the big picture. Much better than I was, at least.
May: I had a lot of fun the other night if you want to get together I’m down
“She really uses no punctuation with texts, but at least she doesn’t use shorthand.” Mumbling to myself, I held off texting May to turn my attention to the coffee menu, and a frown twisted my mouth. “I’ll just get it black and fix it myself.”
My eyes were worse than usual this morning, or my glasses were bent or warped in some way. Pulling the frames from my ears, I rolled my jaw as my gaze became blurred and featureless.
“Oran.” Glancing up at the call, I squinted before putting my glasses back on, and May’s brows furrowed above her worried expression. “Did you break your glasses?”
“I think they might’ve gotten warped. I have another pair at work, though. My eyesight is usually worse in the morning. Honestly, I really have no idea.” I could only shrug at my own confusion and May gave a soft ‘ah’ as she sidled up beside me. “What about you? Isn’t your office on the other side of downtown?”
“Yeah. I just wanted to see you.” A tickle of something wiggled in my chest at her sheepish confession, and May tinged pink up to her ears. “Um, so, you remember how you asked me about that leisure ship?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Well, I’ve been working on a blueprint in my spare time and theorizing how it can all work to fit today’s safety standards while maintaining that historical aesthetic, and I’m pretty sure I figured it out. Part of it, at least.” Pleasant surprise rose my brows and I gestured her to continue as we shuffled toward the counter. “The thing I considered most was passing inspections, but you can’t just outfit a wooden ship with modern amenities— they’re too heavy, and it’s unsafe. So, I thought vinyl.”
“Vinyl . . . like the flooring?” She nodded firmly and I cupped my chin to tap my cheek absently as I turned over that notion. “It’s certainly not the first thing that comes to mind, outfitting a ship with vinyl instead of using real wood.”
“But that’s the great thing about it— you want an aesthetically pleasing and historically accurate ship that will sail the shallows. It’s not supposed to be a monument to the original— it just has to look it. Assuming you’ll have the main deck and A deck available to whoever rents out the ship, there’s no reason for them to go lower than the gun, so everything in the orlop can be modern.” My blank look must’ve been more than enough of an indication that the technical terms were beyond me, and May smirked a little as she nudged me with her elbow. “You put ‘Authorized Access Only’ signs where there’s no vinyl.”
“Ah, you could’ve just said that.” Smiling when she laughed, I gestured May in front of me when the line trudged forward. “So, are you available to show me what you have so far?”
“Yeah. Because of how I got onto the team, they basically don’t let me do anything. I can’t staple two pages together without getting looks. Did you want to do that right now, this morning?”
“I’d like to. I have an appointment at eleven a.m., I believe.” Leaning down, a twinge of embarrassment struck my chest, and I pursed my lips thinly. “Would you mind telling me what the sugar measurement is? Five was too many.”
“Five is definitely too many. Do you usually get coffee here?” Shaking my head, I pressed my palm against the small of her back, but her soft, dark green dress couldn’t hide how she tensed. “How do you like it?”
“However you like to give it.” Chuffing a laugh when she huffed at my taunt, I straightened as those flashing, multi-colored eyes met mine. May turned to the counter and I kept my mouth shut as she ordered for me . . . with three sugars. Pulling my wallet out as she followed up with her own order, I waited for the barista to ring her out before grabbing her attention again. “So, do you think this project is feasible? I know there’s probably not a huge market for it, but like I said before, I think it’s a cool idea.”
“I think it’s a money pit, but it’s definitely possible. If I had to put a price tag on something like that, it’d be $2-4 million, depending on the size of the ship. Obviously, you have a lot of resources available, so it would probably be less. Still, my guestimate is entirely based on the research of materials, the engine, the median optional aesthetic outfits, and stuff like that.” I could listen to her talk all fucking day. The thought hit me hard, and I
nodded when May stopped speaking to run a hand up under her loose bun. “If I had exact information, it’d be way more accurate, that goes without saying.”
“Show me what you’ve got and I’ll get you some exact information.” The offer earned me a funny look, and I pursed my lips as I scanned her up and down shrewdly. “How’s your sister? You kinda shoved me out the door the other night when she texted you.”
“Well, she didn’t text me when she left the library. She texted me when she was four blocks away. Sarah’s okay, excited about her birthday in two weeks. I haven’t decided what to do yet.” Our cups landed on the pick-up counter, and I took mine as May gave a little shrug before grabbing hers. “Can’t really tell her ‘no’ when I don’t even know if it’ll be a ‘no’.”
“I see. Is your concern about her condition or are you just nervous about the fact that where she wants to go is three thousand miles away?” Walking toward the exit, I took a sip of my brew, and, burning tongue aside, it was exactly the way I wanted it. Holding open the door for May, I gave her that moment to think before we emerged onto the sidewalk. The air was crisp and salty, the ocean less than two miles away, and she frowned under furrowed brows when I glanced down.
“It’s definitely how far away it is.” My mind churned at that, but was it even my place to try to come up with a solution? “I don’t know. I’m sure I can figure something out.”
No, it’s not really my place.
12
May
Walking into the lobby of my office building, I shouldered my purse and took a preemptive gulp of my coffee as anxiety pooled in my abdomen. I didn’t want to give my new team any reason to dislike me or give my new boss a reason to fire me. Heading for the elevator, I punched the button and rocked back on my heels to glance at Oran. He’d obviously never been in this building, and I gnawed my inner cheek before opening my mouth.
“So, before we go up, I should mention that my co-workers are wary of me, but my boss is absolutely gunning for me. I’m honestly convinced he thinks I set David up. They were kind of buddies.” Rolling my lips between my teeth at the quizzical glance Oran sent me, I hugged my purse to my side tighter. “I’m fifteen minutes later right now, honestly.”
“Well, you’ve got a good excuse. You’re going to present to me when, normally, you’d have to go to Don or one of his lackeys.”
“You just want to make me happy so I’ll invite you over again. I know what you’re doing, Oran.” He held up his hands in surrender, and I couldn’t help but laugh as the elevator doors slid open. Stepping across the threshold, goosebumps blanketed my body when Oran held my waist, and I tilted my head back just as he ducked to kiss my neck.
“I’m glad both my ulterior motives are obvious.” The moment was so fast, I barely had time to react, and a gasp breached my lips when Oran grabbed my ass and squeezed. Turning as the doors slid shut, I reached to touch my neck, the phantom of his lips tingling on my skin. He didn’t try to touch me again, and I kinda missed it as I glanced over at him with the smallest, handsomest smirk on his face.
“So, if I said dinner on Friday would make me happy, what would you say?” His brows rose suggestively and he tilted his head just so with a slick smirk. “Late and light?”
“Late and light.” Accomplishment blossomed in my chest at his confirmation, and I smiled as I tucked stray strands of hair behind my ear. The elevator suddenly stopped and Oran gestured me out first and onto my floor. The cube farm I lived in sprawled out in front of me, and my desk was right in the middle of it all. Each team had a cluster of desks, and my position was telling— I was farthest away from my team and in the middle of the dreaded ‘perfume cloud’.
“Hold your breath, Oran.” Just as I spoke, the stench of cheap perfume slithered along the roof of my mouth, and he very actively covered his mouth with the back of his hand. We finally reached my desk, and I crouched to pull open the lowest drawer. “I’m sorry. It’s not like you can do anything about it, unfortunately. You complain and suddenly it’s an ice bath in here.”
“I do not envy you, May.” The overstuffed folder wasn’t very tidy, and I popped up to hold it to my chest as Oran looked around warily. At least four inches thick, the manila file was smooth against my forearms. He glanced down at me with admiration. “That’s quite the folder.”
“Praise me more.” Gesturing him to follow me, I wound my way to my team leader’s desk, but he barely glanced up at me even as I cleared my throat. “I’m going to need the conf—"
“It’s in use.” Cutting me off, Jerry squinted at his computer, leaning in, telling me clearly that I wasn’t wanted around. I licked my lips as apprehension flooded my gut.
“Jerry, come on. I have a pres—" Holding up a hand, he turned to me with his scruffy beard and tired eyes, and my own narrowed. “I know I’m supposed to book it in advance, but—"
“Yeah, May, you are, because it’s in use. You begging isn’t going to make it not in use.” Irritation seared across my chest, but Jerry had a point and he knew it. Turning to Oran, almost as a second thought, he scoffed a little and shook his head. “You could’ve called if the meeting was that important and abrupt.”
“You have to share a single conference room between the five teams working on this floor?” The question didn’t come from me, and Jerry frowned under his bushy, salt-and-pepper eyebrows as they drew together. Tension zinged in the air, barely noticeable, and all I could do was stand there awkwardly between them.
“Who are you? Why are you here?” Jerry lifted himself from his chair as he posed his questions. He wasn’t rotund or greasy or anything, but he clearly didn’t like me or anything I tried to do. Watching him square up with Oran, knowing the muscle hidden under that dark blue jacket, would’ve been comical with Jerry’s aged frame.
But I needed this job, at least right now.
“I own this building and everyone in it, including you.” Oran plucked a card from his pocket, and his smirk was almost malicious as he held it out between two fingers. “Oran Santino. I’m your boss’s boss’s boss’s subsidiary’s boss’s boss’s boss’s . . . boss.”
Amusement and authority thickened Oran’s tone, and suddenly, Jerry wasn’t looking down his nose at him. My team lead stood up a little straighter and I felt immensely relieved in this moment. The validation! Taking the card, Jerry’s brows came together tightly as he glanced down at it.
“So, let me get this straight. You somehow managed a meeting on the fly with the CEO when you’re not currently working on any projects even close to being prepared for a presentation.” Jerry handed Oran back the card and took on that tone of talking down to someone, and my face heated in offense. “I don’t buy it. Just because you have a nice suit and a card doesn’t make your story any more believable.”
“Jerry—" Turning to me, Jerry frowned in disapproval and straight disdain, and I sucked in a sharp breath. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I clenched my jaw hard.
“No offense, May, but I seriously don’t have time for this. You were late, you just want the conference room for God only knows why with someone off the street, and whatever is in that folder isn’t something assigned to you, which means you’re working on something personal during work hours.”
“You don’t give me any work to do, anyway. I was commissioned for this before I had to change teams—”
“Before you changed teams? You got your entire team fired by claiming they were all in on this big conspiracy against you.” Oh, I saw red! Handing my huge folder to Oran, I stepped up to Jerry to poke him right in his stupid, thin chest.
“Don’t you interrupt me, damnit! I put up with your huffy ass for a whole month, Jerry!” Fire surged from my nose as I yelled at him, and he went a little wide-eyed as his chin doubled over against his sternum. The entire cube farm went quiet, and I poked him again, this time hard enough to send him into his chair with a grunt. “I didn’t do anything but expose David’s lies about my work. If you want to blame someo
ne for him being fired, blame him. The investigation proved he and everyone else on his team knowingly committed innovative theft, and if David wasn’t so . . . so fucking stupid, then why the hell did he send me to a meeting that would’ve inevitably ended in an investigation!”
“May. May.” Taking my shoulders, Oran squeezed as I trembled with a mix of embarrassment and rage, and I glared hotly at Jerry. “Hey, relax. It’s not like he compared you to a flat-earther.”
“What’s with all the noise?” Blood drummed in my ears and I swiped back my hair with a huff as the head supervisor weaved his way between chairs and nosy people. When he saw Oran, he paused for a brief second, and Oran squeezed my shoulders again before turning to my supervisor. Shivers gripped my spine and I crossed my arms tightly as the curiosity thickening the air reached its peak. “And you are?”
“We’ve spoken on the phone, but I don’t believe we’ve met in person. Oran Santino.” My supervisor obviously recognized Oran’s deep timber, and he smiled even though it didn’t get very far. “How many conference rooms do you have available, and are any of them in use?”
“We have three, and only one is being used right now, sir. I apologize. I didn’t know you were stopping by.” The supervisor cast me a brief questioning glance, and I huffed and puffed in an effort to calm down as I curtly shook my head. I smoothed my dress against my abdomen with sharp movements, and my supervisor turned his curious eyes on Oran. “What can I do for you today, sir?”
“Ms. Hart has a presentation for me. Seeing as her new team lead has been so gracious with her workload, she’s willing to present what she’s managed to scrape together the past few weeks. If you’re going to give her a hard time about a conference room, I can always bring her to my office, but you’ll probably never see her again. She’s very good at her job from what I’ve seen so far— too good to be working in the muck the interns don’t want to do.” The compliment dumped cold water on my anger, and flames licked up my neck as my supervisor took on an absolutely horrified but muted expression. Casting a narrowed, critical glance at Jerry, Oran frowned in distaste that glistened brightly in his eyes. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one disliked upon first glance. “I should’ve done it already, I suspect.”