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“Hear that?” The man squeezed into the seat next to him sneers. “Thinks we’re here to talk about work, he does.”
“Johnny said he’d put in a good word,” the voice of innocence chimes in from beside me, finally done fidgeting enough beside me to join in the conversation.
They turn to glare at Clarissa. “That shyster doesn’t pull his own weight and now he’s asking favors.”
She ignores them and addresses O’Brien. “Fiona says you are the most powerful man around and, if my Finn wants manual work, you are the person to ask.”
I wait and watch O’Brien, who sits up a bit straighter.
“Finn might be rough around the edges. But he’ll do whatever you ask, without question.”
O’Brien turns his attention toward me.Well played, love.
“You were seen having breakfast with the foreigners.”
“The South Africans? Yes.”
“What did she say to you?”
“Ogdenhayer?”
He glares at me, and I shrug. “She put the heart crossway in me, she did. Vicious woman. And she’s none too fond of you.”
“That woman thinks she can roll in here, make demands, hoodwink me, and expect me to take it up the arse. What she needs is a lesson in respect.”
I sit forward in the seat, and let the bonding begin.
“Hoodwinked?” Clarissa prompts.
The Irish are an untrusting lot. But like tends to drift toward like, which I play to my advantage. “She fleece you or rob you blind?”
“Fleeced. That South Africanslagraised prices on a transaction. Acted like she had the right to do so at the last minute.”
“Certainly, there are laws against that?”
O’Brien looks at Clarissa like she’s lost her feckin’ mind. A notorious mob boss seeking legal help for a black-market transaction gone wrong?
“That woman has no love for you, I tell you.” I lower my voice, forcing him to lean forward as I drive the nail in the ol’ coffin. “Demanded I throw the final fight in her favor.”
O’Brien’s cheeks flush with rage. His massive bulk seems to broaden across the seat as he squares his shoulders, ready to explode. “Someone has been running his mouth.”
His men stiffen.
“How else would that woman know I was backing Finn here?”
Predictability. Simple-mindedness. Greed.
“Bet it’s Johnny. Can’t keep a secret, that one.”
No one says a word, allowing the silence to linger on poor Johnny. No one dare contradict O’Brien or his history of backing capable underdogs like yours truly in fights to his advantage. The boss knew it. So did Ogdenhayer. Rocket science, this shite show is not.
“Thinks I’m a bleedin’ eegit, does she? Thinks she’s a step ahead of me. First in raising the prices then in feckin’ with my wagers.”
Silence.
“What do you think?”
All eyes are on me.
