Page 43 of Loss and Damages
She leans against a support beam and I walk to my truck. I can feel her eyes boring into my back. I climb in, throw my sling and my prescription bottles onto the passenger seat, and start the engine. She’s still staring as I back out of the narrow driveway and onto the street. I shift into Drive, and starting down the narrow road that will lead me to the highway, I lose sight of her. I want to forget her blue eyes and the sadness that pulled down the corners of her delicate lips.
There’s no reason to see her again.
Absolutely none.
My mother doesn’t call to ask how I’m doing, though by now news of the shooting has been blasted on every TV channel and online gossip site in the country. It wouldn’t have hurt her if that asshole had shot me straight through the heart.
At Leo’s, I fasten a couple strips of packing tape over my stitches and stand under a hot shower. I’m exhausted, though I must have slept at least twelve hours last night, knowing even insleep Jemma would be there if I needed her. I finish, dry off, and clumsily reapply the gauze myself. It doesn’t look great but it will get the job done. My wound still hurts like a son of a bitch and I swallow a pain pill and my antibiotics, choosing something a little stronger than the water Jemma insisted on last night.
Fingering the gallery’s brochure Leo had laying on his desk, I think of what to do next. I should go to the office, and it’s what I’ll end up doing. I need to apply more pressure to Mayor Wilkins and Pitts. Things are getting hotter, and I need the sale to go through sooner rather than later. Their pussyfooting is giving people time to get riled up and it’s a pain in the ass to look over my shoulder every second. No one but me and my father will be happy when the sale goes through, but they’ll stop thinking they can do anything about it once I sign on the dotted line.
The usual picketers are marching on the sidewalk outside the building, waving signs about equal rights and poor people are people too. Nothing I disagree with, but poor people can be poor on someone else’s land. I want the 1100 block, and it’s going to be mine, no matter the cost.
The reward is too great to throw away.
I step off the elevator onto the executive floor and let myself in through the security door. My father’s low voice carries to me from down the hall and I step into his office.
He slams the phone down when he sees me, and rises, his legs shaky. “Dominic,” he rasps. “Those sons of bitches think they can get away with that. They don’t know who the fuck they’re dealing with.”
I nod and accept the drink he pours me. The one I drank at Leo’s and the pain pill made me light-headed and I don’t need any more alcohol, but I can’t show my father any weakness. “I’m fine. A flesh wound.”
“Good, good.” He regards me, his eyes sharp, and I know that will be the end of our personal talk. “You need to lean on Wilkins and Pitts. You’re giving them power, Dominic, and that won’t do.”
“I’ve talked to Wilkins. I’m buying up Oakdale Square. I’m going to clean it up and I won’t let him have any of the credit.”
“Forget about Oakdale Square, it’s full of nothing but druggies and whores. Focus on what matters. The 1100 block is on prime land. We need it.”
We don’t need it, but we want it, and Milanos always get what we want.
“I know. It will happen. Pitts won’t do anything without Wilkins’s approval.”
“Fuck that. If he’s forcing you to play dirty, play dirty. You’ve done it before without blinking an eye. What’s different this time?” Dad sips his drink.
“Nothing.”
“Something. A deal like this would have taken you days, a week at best. Has your brother’s death gotten to you? You’ve been spending time with his girl.”
I frown. “How do you know that?”
“You brought her to the benefit and let your mother have a look at her. You came from her house this morning. You didn’t fuck her, though. I know when you’ve dipped your dick, and you didn’t last night. Don’t do something and think I won’t know. The city has eyes. You won’t be able to get away with it.”
“I wasn’t hiding.”
“Keep your head in the game and your cock out of her pussy, Dom. Now’s not the time to fall for an innocent. Leo was soft, all moonbeams and whatever the fuck.” He scoffs and sips his drink. “You know better. Make me proud, son. Wrap up the 1100 block this week. We’ll go out and celebrate.”
Dad’s version of celebrating is a VIP lounge, the most expensive champagne money can buy, and pussy attached to a woman no one will remember in the morning.
After kissing Jemma, I find the idea unappealing, but I can’t let my father know. It will be another strike against me, and I’ve already struck out twice this morning: the sale hasn’t gone through and I was caught wasting time with Leo’s girlfriend. A Milano never fails in business, nor does he want sloppy seconds.
My father doesn’t know the true nature of Leo and Jemma’s relationship, but the truth is moot.
“I’m going out tonight. We’re seeing a play,” he says, setting his glass on the bar. “Drinks at the club afterward. Join us there, if you’d like. Bring someone and find your focus.”
Fuck somebody, stop thinking about Jemma’s pussy, and remember business is the only thing that matters. Reading between the lines is an old game, but one I’ve mastered.
“I’m going to hunt down Wilkins and Pitts. You can’t find one without the other these days.”
“On a Sunday afternoon there’s only one place they’ll be.”
