Page 159 of Rosetti Family New York
36
Domenico
Ilean back in my desk chair and wait for Rafe to answer his damn phone. When it’s me calling, he should answer immediately.
Besa and I are still holed up at the Aman, waiting for settlement on our new place. The penthouse is sleek and modern, with sprawling views of the city. I’ve spent the past month in this place, dealing with mess after mess and putting out fires while Rafe runs things in Brooklyn.
Where is he? He should have picked up by now.
My fingers tap on the desk. When it’s me calling, he's supposed to answer immediately.
Finally, he grunts an impatient hello. I see him in my mind, arms crossed, ice-blue eyes drilling holes through the phone.
“We’ve got a situation,” I say, leaning back in the chair.
“A situation?” He sounds pissed already. “Last time I checked, Dom, you’re the one with a situation. A life-sized Besiana-shaped situation. You need me to come hold your hand?”
I chuckle. “What makes you think I’d call you for that?”
I can practically see him roll his eyes. “You call because you want something. So what is it?”
I toy with the pen on my desk. “What do you know about the Callahans?”
There’s a beat of silence. I wait him out, knowing Rafe is as calculated as me, just rougher around the edges. “They’re Irish. They breathe. What else do I need to know?”
“They’re also generous,” I say. “They tipped us off about something going down tonight. A girl in too deep, needs to be taken care of. Asked if you’re interested.”
He snorts, but it’s less confident than I’d expect. “Since when do the Rosettis run cleanup for the Callahans? And since when do we care about some chick screwing up her own life?”
“I don’t,” I say. “But I thought you might.”
Rafe doesn’t answer right away. He’s thinking, and thinking means he’s interested. I don’t let him sit with it too long. “They say nine o’clock. Off the FDR. Some alleyway. Might be your kind of party.”
“And you couldn’t send anyone else?” he asks. “Call me paranoid, but it almost sounds like you want me there.”
I smile, not that he can see it. “You’re the neighborhood expert.”
I hear him breathing, low and steady like he’s weighing his options. Rafe doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to. But I know my brother, and I know how he feels about certain things. That he’s more likely to save this girl than off her.
“Fine,” he says finally. “I’ll check it out. But I’m not doing anyone any favors. Especially not the Callahans.”
“That’s what I love about you, Rafe,” I say. “You’re all heart.”
He hangs up on me, but I don’t mind. I stare out at the city, the lights like so many distant promises. The deal with Besiana taught me things about the kind of man I am. About what I will and will not do to protect my family.
I pour a drink, let the whiskey warm me in the December cold. Rafe will get in deep. I see it already. But I don’t worry. I know him. And if he has to choose between shooting a woman or falling for her? Let’s just say I’ll make sure he has the room he needs.
