Chapter Four

The trouble with tuxedoes was how careful one had to be to keep them looking flawless. Even raising toasts could be hazardous. A quick stop in the men’s room with Jack certainly wasn’t happening, yet it was all Sal could think about as he stood around with his phone ages before the party started.

The “blizzard”

was still in full swing and the organizers grew more and more antsy.

He was finally able to reach some back-up, and one of the key missing organizers arrived in a neighbor’s all-wheel drive. One way or another, they should have a strong turnout because the event was in the city. Most of the guests would be local. Still, as the hour drew near, the decked-out hotel ballroom, replete with Christmas garlands and golden bells, remained sparsely inhabited.

Jack’s sour mood had returned and Sal was inclined to agree with him. Still, no one had heard a word from Cassaro, but so what? Sal wasn’t his best friend. A show of support to propagate peace between the families should only go so far. And blue balls were too far.

They should have taken more time when they got home. By then they’d been distracted, in a rush to change, wondering aloud what happened to Cassaro since this event was his baby. Then they got here and there wasn’t actually much to do, but there also wasn’t any privacy and now they were scrubbed and dressed in their finest.

Jack had pitched in and helped with the short-staffed crew testing mics and arranging chairs. Sal made calls and paced.

Often, they passed one another, often caught the other’s eye. Both quickly looked away.

Sal had to turn his back from watching Jack bending over a bundle of cables that needed to be taped down out of sight below a tablecloth.

Were there attendants in the men’s room at this place? Probably not yet. It wasn’t as if they’d be long…

“Salvatore!”

Oh, good. The guests were arriving. Sal turned again, smile firmly in place before he was halfway around. Here’s to world peace.