Page 45 of Taking Care of the Target

“No, Boss.”

Carlo leveled Sal with his hard stare. “You fucking remember that next time you come in here and kick your dirty shoes up on my desk like you own the place.”

Sal scurried out of the office, and Carlo slammed his fist down on his desk, making the remote jump. All he wanted was ten damn minutes to himself. Now he had to sit and second-guess the one guy he knew he could rely on.

He dug into his desk, took out a cigar, and lit it, giving the health code the middle finger.

He leaned back and held in the smoke before slowly blowing it out. Angelo gave him the restaurant reports last night, and while they’d been messy as shit, Rossi’s hadn’t taken in what it usually did since Vince cut back his hours.

So if he got his way and Vince took his rightful spot at his side, he’d need to hire a competent manager. He made enough through the other side of the business that it didn’t matter much, but the better the restaurant did, the easier it was to not have to hide the fact that he had money.

He didn’t like to hide it.

After a few more puffs of his cigar, he returned to the Vince question.I swear I talked to that girl more than Vince did. I’m the one who hired her, too.He’d conducted an impromptu interview when she dropped off her application because there was just something about her. The bashful smile, the way she took the jokes he made in stride and quipped back, even if it was at half-volume. Despite what Allegra refused to fully believe, he’d never stepped out on their marriage. Cassie was pretty and as sweet as they came, but her waitressing experience was why he made a snap judgment and hired her on the spot.

Come to think of it, Vince was all put out when he told him he hired someone himself. Later his nephew admitted she was the best waitress they had. That hardly translated into him being interested in her, though.

Women flocked to Vince, but he’d never been the settling down type, another thing that made him perfect for this biz. He wouldn’t have to deal with glasses being thrown at his head when he noticed another woman, as if looking were the same as touching.

Carlo shook his head and returned to the point.Am I fishing for a reason to not look closer at Vince? Or to not kill Cassie?

Honestly, he was relieved when Vince assured him she didn’t remember anything. Most people he killed had it coming. Once in a while, people were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he had to take care of it, regardless of his personal feelings.

If Sal had basically accused him of being soft in that area, what were the other men thinking? Kindness looked like weakness.

Carlo debated for a moment and then took out his burner phone and called Vince.

“Hey,” he said when Vince answered—nice and quick, which was a good sign. “What’s the name of the restaurant where the girl works?”

The silence took more time than he liked.

“Sorry, I got distracted. She works at a seafood and steak place downtown.”

Carlo tapped the ashes off the end of his cigar. Purposely vague? Or distracted? “What’s the name?” he asked again, holding back his anger to avoid raising suspicion.

Damn gnat, making me bait my own nephew.

“Uh, McCormick’s.” A rustling noise came over the line. “Look, I’m hands deep in the Jeep’s engine right now. Is there something you need, or can we talk later?”

“Just wanted that information.”

“But everything’s on hold till after her doctor’s appointment, right?”

Carlo tapped a finger against the edge of his desk. “Did you make a decision about my offer?”

“No. But honestly, I miss running the restaurant. I feel at home there.”

Carlo clenched his jaw. Most guys would jump at the opportunity. He got that Vince’s dad died right in front of him, but that was the world they lived in. He’d been patient, waiting for him to come around, but he was sick of being patient.

The clanging of metal against metal made Carlo pull the phone from his ear. Vince swore and the phone clattered, then the line went dead. He didn’t doubt that his nephew was working on the Jeep. But Vince seemed a littletooconcerned about his wanting that restaurant name and that the plan was still to wait.

Or maybe he was reading too much into it. But he didn’t get to where he was by being stupid.

Now he was trying to remember the last time Vince had a female hanging around. One usually showed up here and there. At the restaurant. At family gatherings. Nothing that ever lasted long, just casual semi-relationships. But he couldn’t recall there being anyone since Cassie started at Rossi’s.

Swearing under his breath, Carlo rested his cigar on the ashtray and turned to his computer. When he typed in “McCormick’s,” he found a link about spices and a restaurant called McCormick and Schmick’s Seafood and Steak, but they only had locations in Atlantic City and Bridgewater, New Jersey. No Trenton.

He did a search for restaurants in Trenton, getting more and more pissed as he scanned through the results without seeing it. Finally, he picked up the burner phone and called Sal.

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