CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Big Ed yawned once again.

Mick had been in Bella Caine's Paris residence for nearly two hours. Restless Vincent had gotten out several times and walked around. Had even gotten a couple ladies' phone numbers. But every time he plopped back in the car, he sighed, looked at his watch, and looked at Bella's front door.

"Dang," he said. "What's taking him so long?"

Even Ed found it odd. But he wasn't about to share that with his impatient younger colleague.

Vincent looked at his Rolex yet again, then he looked over at Big Ed, who was yawning yet again. He grinned. "I'll bet a hundred bucks you won't be the one driving Boss back to the hotel tonight."

Big Ed lifted his hat slightly up from his forehead and looked over at him. "How you figure that?"

"You're already sleepy and he ain't coming out no time soon. You'll be out cold by the time he gets back in this limo."

Big Ed dismissed his talk and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm talking game. That's what I'm talking about. I'm talking big game. And Boss got it in spades. I hear he's got some serious hang time too."

Big Ed looked at him. "You hear it from who? Mrs. Sinatra? She's the only one he's hanging with. At least as far as we're concerned."

"Yeah right," Vincent said with a laugh. "And I guess Boss been in that house patting her hand and singing lullabies all this time? That what you expect me to believe?"

"I don't care what you believe. But I know you better knock that shit off, Vinny. Boss is a married man. And Roz Sinatra? She don't play."

"He's a married man in that gorgeous dame's villa or townhouse or whatever they call it here. And he's been in there for two straight hours already. It's eight at night here in Paris. You see any lights up in that bitch? You see any movement? He's been in there for two straight hours. And he's still up in there."

"You wanna keep your job you better keep your trap shut," Big Ed warned him. "As far as we're concerned, he's in a business meeting. And if his wife calls that's what you better tell her too. Because one day you gonna mouth off to the wrong employee and it gets back to the big man. And that'll be the end of you. Figuratively and literally."

Vincent looked at the driver. "What's that supposed to mean?"

But Big Ed suddenly sat up from his slouched position and straightened his chauffeur's hat. "He's coming now."

Both men looked at the front exit as the door had opened. Bella was at the door and was saying something to Mick.

Vincent smiled. "About time," he said. "You know his habit right, Big Ed?"

"What habit?"

"If he walks down those steps slowly that means he got some and it was real good, depending on just how slow he walks. But if he's running down that motherfucker then you know and I know he didn't get nothing, and he can't wait to get away from her."

"I know what your money's on," said Big Ed.

"Damn right. All this time? He'd better be crawling down them steps."

Bella gave Mick a hug as he stood on her stoop. Then he began walking down the steps. Both his driver and his bodyguard looked intensely. Vincent had gotten out of the limo and was walking around to the driver back door to open it when he saw Mick walking slowly down those steps. He grinned and looked at Big Ed through the car's window. But his smile was fleeting. As soon as the boss hit the bottom step, he opened the limo's back door and stepped back. Mick got in without a word, the door closed, and Vincent got back in on the front passenger seat. Big Ed waited for the order.

When Mick pointed forward, Big Ed didn't hesitate. He was as ready as Vincent to get going. He drove away.

But Big Ed could see, through his rearview mirror, Bella Caine closing the door as they drove away. He glanced at the boss. But the boss was quiet, looking out the side window as if he either regretted what he'd just done, or enjoyed it. Ed could never tell with Mick.

Then Mick pulled out his phone and turned it back on. As he was looking and saw that he had missed calls from Roz, his phone began ringing. He answered. It was Teddy.

"Hey Pop."

"Yep?"

"Duke was in a fight today. A bad one."

Mick always stiffened when a call was about one of his children or Roz.

"The only reason Duke's not in jail," Teddy went on, "is because Ma invoked your name and scared the shit out of the school's resource officer."

"Is Junior alright?"

"He's fine. The other guy is in bad shape though."

"What's bad?"

"They just rushed him in for emergency surgery," said Teddy.

"Shit."

"That bad," said Teddy. "And you know what that means, Pop. If that kid dies, then Duke's looking at a murder rap."

Mick's heart sank. He loved all his kids, but he never worried so desperately about his grown children the way he worried about the twins. Maybe because he was there with them throughout the entirety of their lives. Maybe because he was so heavily vested in them that he couldn't point the finger at their mother, the way he pointed the finger at his other children's mothers, when they didn't turn out right. Maybe it was because they came from Roz, the love of his life. "I'm on my way," he said, and ended the call. "Get me to the airport, Eddie," he added. "We're going home. Vincent, alert my pilot and get somebody over to the hotel to retrieve our luggage."

"Right away, sir," Vincent said happily. He loved Paris. The energy there turned him on. But there was no place like home.