Shadows May Fall (39 page)

“Relax, Lou.” Max tried to make her feel at ease. “You are among friends and family, here. However, I would like to get straight to business so we can leave the pleasantries for dinner. Any objections?”

After they all agreed to get down to business, they did just that. For the next half hour, they discussed policy and procedure for Lou’s benefit and while she was following Dillon’s lead on speaking only when spoken to, she was able to clarify a few things that she had been confused about in the Principate food chain. It came very suddenly, pinning down exactly how she felt, although there were significant differences this time. Lou realized she hadn’t felt this insecure and out of place since the first day she walked into Narcotics Bureau as a newly minted detective. Sure there were a few familiar faces that she knew from her uncle, Vinny being one of them, but she knew within the first sixty seconds she walked in the room. Those few familiar faces were the only ones that even remotely liked her being there. Despite the gentlemanly manners and smiling faces of these handsome men that she sat with now, she knew they wouldn’t be giving her the time of day if not for Max. Lou didn’t touch her drink after that little revelation and instead she was in full blown cop mode. Sizing up silently. Getting a read; learning everything she possibly could about the men without giving them a thing in return. It had also occurred to her that she had no clue what their special talents were. For all she knew they were poking in her thoughts right at that very moment. Niko had warned her about how although that was rare, especially without physical contact, it was a possibility. He also taught her a quick technique on how to avoid being read and so she put that little trick into practice. As each sentence was said, she repeated it back to herself in her mind. If someone was poking around, they would think she was just paying super close attention, or she was a moron trying to process what was being said. She could live with either assumption.

When the conversation turned to the attack on Niko, Lou found it odd that Max had omitted to mention anything about the blood smuggling operation. There had to be a reason so she listened carefully to what details were being made known and what specifically was being held back. It was the Eastern Principate that drew Lou’s attention the most by his lack of probing further. While the other men seemed rightfully irate and hell bent on getting to the bottom of things, Michael Humphry was just a touch less surprised for Lou’s taste. He also was a tad too familiar with Max for her liking as well, but she had to remind herself that these men had known Max for eons compared to Lou. Some familiarity was to be expected but with Humphry, it just seemed a little too showy and forced. She would keep that to herself for a while too. She was still the newbie, after all and she had a lot to learn still. That could decidedly work to her advantage. She might discuss it all with Dillon when they got back home but for now, she was playing everything close to the vest.

It was just after six when Max decided they had covered everything he needed and reminded that the real purpose of the meeting was for everyone to meet the new Principate and they could do that in earnest at dinner. Everyone was to meet at eight at the restaurant and the social portion of the trip could begin. Lou couldn’t wait to get out of there and take a long hot shower, or a bubble bath in that huge tub with its view. After all the salutations and blah blah’s were finished, Lou and Dillon were the first to leave. Lou gave him the high sign in the hall and he got her message immediately, waving and heading for his own room. She watched him walk down the hall, almost wanting to call him back so they could compare notes but when the door across the hall from him opened and Caroline yelled at Lou, she knew that was a sign to shut up.

“I’ll be down there in an hour, okay?” Caroline shouted, the giant curlers in her hair bouncing with each syllable.

“Perfect.” Lou grinned. “I’m gonna take a long hot shower.” Caroline waved and went back into her room.

Lou had only just decided she would save the bubble bath for after dinner. She figured if she took one now her exhaustion would take over and she would probably fall asleep at dinner. The adrenaline had to wear off at some point. Now that the big meet was over, it was going to wear off real soon.

By seven-fifty
Lou had gotten her hundredth wind and Caroline and Abby had whipped her into shape even exceeding her own expectations. They had run into Niko and Dillon on the way to the elevator and both men had complimented Lou on not only her attire but her remarkable way of looking so fresh given she had managed less than fifteen hours of sleep in over a week. By they time they reached the front desk of the restaurant, they had Lou laughing hysterically over some of the most recent times she apparently looked like death warmed over. It was the first time she had laughed this hard in days and she felt amazingly lighter for it.

Vic and Anthony’s Steakhouse in the Golden Nugget Hotel is an institution unto itself. With a warm and sophisticated vibe usually found in the more exclusive and upscale restaurants of New York.

Multi-level dining areas, dim intimate lighting, and classic Rat pack music piped in through invisible speakers making it decidedly vintage Vegas. The walls were covered with framed pictures of Sinatra, Martin, Davis and the Golden Nugget in its infancy. The stunning hostess greeted them as if she had known them all her life. Lou was sure the woman should have been a showgirl just for height and frame qualifications alone. She was as big as one of Lou’s legs and taller than Caroline, even in heels. They expected to be lead off to the left, to the main dining area but instead the showgirl hostess lead them to the right and up a flight of stairs. When they reached the top, they found themselves a private room that looked out over the central dining area. Max and the other Principates had already arrived and were standing around, enjoying a pre-dinner cocktail. The second he caught a glimpse of Lou he forgot what he was talking about and lost all interest in anything but looking at her.

Lou could feel his eyes on her and her palms began to sweat again. If she wiped them on her current outfit, she knew there would be water marks as a result so she quickly stepped behind Dillon and rubbed her palms on the back of his sport coat.

“Sorry.” She whispered when he turned around to look what she was doing. When she raised her palms, he understood and tried hard not to laugh.

Max came around the table and pulled out the end chair for her. “Tallulah?” He requested.

Lou smirked at him. “Thank you.” She sat down and marveled at how his calling her by her full name made her heart flutter instead of the usual rage it evoked when others called her that. But then again he could probably call her Fido and she would find it endearing, the same way it felt when he called her detective.

The rest of the party took their seats and Max took his at the head of the table, opposite of Lou. She felt like a midget among giants as she looked around at the other guests. Caroline and Abby were significantly taller than her on a typical day. The men at the table looked like what amounted to be the defense lineup for a professional hockey team. She had barely settled in her seat when a man placed a drink in front of her, it was a little startling.

“Vodka Gimlet for the lady?” A rakishly handsome man asked. He was dressed in a pristinely pressed white dress shirt, black vest and dark pewter necktie done in a proper full Windsor.

“Thank you.” Lou wondered how everyone knew what her favorite drink was when she rarely actually drank.

“Lou, please meet John, the finest steward in North America.” Max gave the man a nod.

“You are far too kind.” The man bowed his head in appreciation, but Lou wondered if Max meant an actual Sanguinostri steward or if he was using the term as an alternate meaning for a waiter. She didn’t think it was an appropriate time to ask.

The elegantly lean man made his way around the table checking that everyone’s place was correctly set and all had received their cocktails. His slightly smoked glasses scanned the table carefully and Lou noticed that his slicked back hair carried the exact same pewter coloring as his tie. He looked like he should be placing a bet at a high stakes baccarat table rather than tending to them at dinner.

“Is there anything I can get anyone at the moment?” He asked, but everyone was quite content. “Then I will let you relax and enjoy your drinks for a bit before we serve your starters.” John told them then vanished behind a curtain in the far corner of the room.

With Dillon on her right and Caroline on her left, Lou scanned the unfamiliar faces seated at Max’s end of the table. The other Principates started discussing the finer points of a nine iron while Niko, Frank and Caroline tried to explain to Abby and Dillon how to play craps. Lou tried not to make eye contact with Max though it was difficult with him looking at her over and over again. She leaned over to Caroline and poked her in the thigh to get her attention. “What?” Caroline grumbled, rubbing her thigh.

“Do I have something on my face, or in my teeth?” Lou asked her in a whisper.

Caroline grinned. “No honey. He’s staring because you’re frea-kin’ gorgeous.” Lou furrowed her brow incredulously at her best friend in response. “Drink your drink and deal with it.” Caroline dismissed Lou’s insecurity and jumped back into the conversation.

Lou tried to do as her gal-pal suggested and by the bottom of her drink she was feeling less exposed. She and Dillon got to talking about their favorite penny slots and their utter lack of interest in ever playing craps with Niko and Frank. There was much laughter and merriment as the army of waiters came in and served appetizers. John stood stoically watching over his subordinates, ensuring they placed everything just so. It was uncanny how the evening progressed with each dish being one of Lou’s absolute favorites, as was the case with everyone else. It seemed as though someone had researched the matter beforehand and saw to it that everyone’s favorites were served exactly as they liked it prepared. By the time dessert was served, Lou thought she was going to split open, she was so full. She had been starving for most of the day but between the crab cake as a starter, then the filet and lobster as her main course, she wasn’t sure she could manage a single bite of the creme brulee. It was an extreme effort, but she managed to put a solid dent in the decadent finale’ to an unbelievably delicious meal. As predicted, Lou felt her eyelids getting heavy just as the table was being cleared. She had never been more grateful to anyone than she was for John when he sat the cup of coffee down in front of her.

“Is it too soon to tell you I love you?” She asked her new savior.

John grinned as he looked down at her, placing the miniature pitcher of cream next to her cup. “Not in my book.” He immediately looked up at Max and gave him a look of approval. Max smiled and gave him a slight nod.

Lou could have sworn there had been some profound exchange between the two men in that split second that everyone else had missed. There was something significantly special about their so-called steward but again, it was not the time nor the place to ask.

It was after eleven when they finally took their leave of the restaurant. Each of them thanking John and the rest of the staff for an exceptional meal with unparalleled service. Lou, Dillon, and Caroline all agreed it was the only place they would ever eat in Las Vegas, besides room service, ever again. While the Principates, along with Max and Frank decided they were going to get in on a poker game, Caroline and Niko were heading to a craps table to teach Dillon and Abby how to play the game once and for all. Lou made her apologies and said goodnight for the evening. She was so tired she wasn’t sure she would make it to her room before passing out. Niko told the rest he would catch up with them and escorted Lou to her room like a proper gentleman. Lou was ever so grateful he offered as opposed to Max because she was too damned tired to take advantage of that opportunity. It would have been a pure waste.

“Well?” Niko asked as soon as the elevator doors closed. “Well, what?” Lou’s brain was shutting down. She had no clue what he was asking.

He gave her a bump with his hip to wake her up. “What do you think of the other Principates?”

“Don’t do that. I’ll tip over.” She was only half joking.

“Wake up, little girl.” He ordered with a snap of his fingers. “No.” She whined. “We’ll talk about all that when we get home.”

“Fine.” He chuckled as the elevator doors opened. “Need me to carry you?” He nudged her out.

“No.” She shuffled out of the elevator and proceeded down the hall. “I might need you to carry me upstairs, though.”

“You ate too much for that.” He teased. “You’re too heavy to carry up any stairs.”

She managed enough energy to swat him with her purse. “Jerk.”

When he got her to her door, he kissed her on the forehead and wished her goodnight. She managed to make it up the stairs on her own and get herself into her pajamas, but she simply didn’t have the energy to hang up her clothes. The last bit of energy she could muster was to pull the covers over her head. She was out in half a second and snoring.

When Niko stepped
out of the elevator he turned left, instead of right toward the casino floor. He took a turn after the lobby and through a door meant for staff only then down a long hall that let out into some sort of back alley. Niko proceeded down the alley then across the street, down another alley until there was no more neon or much light at all. He stopped on the sidewalk and leaned against the side of an old pawn shop that was closed for long overdue renovations. As he lit one of his signature cigarettes, he looked down the street both ways and noted how desolate it was for a Friday night.

“Give me one of those.” A voice asked from nowhere.

“Christ.” Niko chuckled. “You’re the only one who can sneak up on me like that.”

John Lassiter, their steward from the night’s feast, stepped out of the shadows as silently as an alley cat on the prowl. He had dispensed with his vest and tie and was looking far more like the devilish covert operative that he really was. “Years of practice.” He smirked as he took the cigarette and lit it. “I like her.” He told him.