Death, Shaken Not Stirred

Chapter 2 ~ Hello Again

Meeting with a client to discuss a hit isn't how it's shown in the movies. No one dresses incognito, and there isn't a meetup on a park bench where a briefcase of cash is exchanged, and there sure as hell isn't secret lingo.

At least not when I do it.

Instead, I like meeting in public in an unassuming place, order a beer, and feel the person out. If I get a solid vibe from them, I slide them a burner phone and message them with my answer. However, a contract is never official until I've vetted their target.

I will never, ever take a client's word for it. I need to see for myself why someone needs to be eliminated.

Is it a risk if I refuse?

No. I cover the bases and always record our conversation to ensure the client expresses their desire to have someone killed. They don't know I'm recording them. So, is it a dick move? Sure. But like I said, I cover my ass, and so far, no one has tested me. Plus, a person would be a dumbass to go after me, considering The Sisters have my back.

The financial district hums with foot traffic and clatter from eateries rolling open their gates to welcome morning commuters for breakfast. When I enter the mom-n-pop bagel cafe, Tony is wearing another tailored suit and is fussing with his diamond embellished cufflinks. The guy is an Italian stallion with perfectly gelled ash blond hair and baby blues staring up at me from long lashes.

If this were a mafia movie, he'd be the handsome cousin Dominic who gets shot from a deal gone wrong because he's too pretty to be an intelligent gangster. It's the Tony Sopranos of the world who get away with shit. Not the pretty boys.

"It's quite an early time to meet." I slide into the chair opposite him and rub a hand over my unquaffed head.

Compared to Tony, who is dressed in a tailored suit, I resemble a homeless guy with dark stubble growing on my face, a faded black hoodie, and sweats that are floppy at the knees.

"I have work in about thirty minutes." Tony fusses with the sleeve on his coffee cup. "It's the only time I can meet."

"Hey, whatever works. So tell me, why do you want to do this, Tony?"

"Well, um, you see..." he pauses to glance around the bagel cafe, but no one else is around, aside from the lady behind the counter, except she's too busy cleaning the espresso machine. "It's my business partner. He's gotten into a bad cocaine habit, and he's become unreliable, but in my line of work, an unstable person can cost me a lot. And we've already had big clients cancel because of his behavior at meetings."

"And what do you do for work?"

"We're a consulting firm," Tony replies and adjusts his collar, but when I stare blankly, he elaborates. "Companies come to us when they want to acquire other companies, and we assess whether or not it's a good investment."