Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
“I’m going to pay it just as soon as I get my landlord paid off,” I say, in case Ondrea repeats this conversation to Arissa.
“I have two words for you,” Gina says, and I roll my eyes because I know what’s coming. “Sugar. Daddy.”
Bobby
“Mr. Manghini?” Greta, my secretary, calls me at the construction site.
“What is it?” She knows I don’t like to be bothered when I’m in the field, so the fact that she’s calling means something else has gone wrong.
“There’s an IRS auditor here. He’s demanding to review all your bookkeeping.”
Fanculo.
I grit my teeth. “Did you ask for identification?”
“Yes. He seems legit.” Greta has worked for me for sixteen years. She’s in the Family–the older sister of one of our soldiers–and therefore someone I trust. Not that I ever let her become a party to anything. She’s innocent, yet in the know, generally-speaking, which makes her an ideal employee as far as I’m concerned.
“Okay. Show him whatever he wants to see.”
“Are you sure?”
My books are tight. I may launder Family money through the business, but the paper trail is impeccable. They won’t find anything.
“I’m sure. Nothing to worry about at all.”
“Totally sure?”
“Greta, I appreciate your concern, but there’s nothing to be worried about. It’s fine.”
“All right. I will let him see the accounting.”
I end the call and dial the don. Even though it’s not going to be a problem, he wouldn’t like me keeping him in the dark about anything that involves the government sniffing around our affairs.
“Bobby. You’re interrupting my golf game,” he says when he picks up.
“Then I won’t keep you. Just wanted to let you know I have an IRS auditor demanding to see my books. Nothing to worry about.”
Al’s silent for a moment. Long enough to make me sweat his reaction. “Okay. Keep me posted.”
“Yeah. Will do.” I end the call and shove the phone in my pocket.
Cristo.
I sure as fuck hope things are as clean as I believe because if I bring anything down on the LaTorre family, prison time will be the least of my worries.
Lexi
I walk from the bus stop to my apartment, my feet aching from standing all day. I have eleven hundred and fifty dollars cash in my pocket, a combination of the money Bobby gave me and my earnings this week, which I hope is enough to get the eviction notice off my door. I unlock the front door to the building and take the stairs up to the third floor, so I can eat a bite of food before I find the building manager.
I try my key in the lock.
It doesn’t work.
Fuck! This can’t be. I try again, gripping the doorknob to rattle the door as I try to jam the key in. But the inner portion of the lock is obviously new.
I’ve been officially evicted. I should have come by this morning instead of hanging out in the hot tub at the Four Seasons. I should have at least called the landlord to tell him I had a partial payment.
Maybe it’s not too late.
I race down the stairs, tears burning in my eyes. How stupid could I be, to think I could keep talking my landlord out of booting me? I should’ve moved home with my mom after the accident and paid the bills down over time. Instead, I hid my head in the sand and just hoped things would work out.
Well, they didn’t work out.
And now I have no place to go.
I wipe my face when I get to the manager’s door.
Get it together, Lex.
I draw a breath, pull out my cash and knock on the door.
The manager, a decent middle-aged guy named Gus, answers. “I’m sorry, Lexi.” He looks away.
I thrust the money at him. “This is eleven hundred and fifty dollars. That covers this month, at least, and I can work on chipping down the debt on the rest. I’m so sorry. I meant to come by this morning to give this to you, but I slept somewhere else and didn’t have time before work, but–”
“Sorry.” He shakes his head. I think he actually does regret turning me away. “It’s not up to me. I just do what I’m told, and I was told to change the locks.”
“No, no, no, no.” I’m talking fast like it’s going to make some kind of difference. “Please, Gus. Can you just let me in there for tonight, and I’ll call the landlord in the morning to get it all paid off? I’m sure he’d rather keep an existing tenant and get the money he’s owed rather than find a new renter.”
“That is not true. He’s bumping the rent to sixteen hundred, and he says he has three people on the waiting list for it. I’m sorry, Lexi, but it’s too late. You’re out.”
I try to hold in a sob, pinching my lips together as a couple of tears leak from the outer corners of my eyes. “Can you just let me in to get my stuff?”