I rolled my wrist to read the time. It was 6:55 p.m.
My father and I often held business at The Flatiron Room, and we knew the owner well. He was good at making sure we weren’t interrupted, and for that, we kept a running tab.
The place had an old-time feel but still carried a classic, modern vibe. It was often busy, but when we were in town, Maxon always made sure our table was free.
“Vinni.” I waited for an update.
“Still digging.” He held the phone away from his mouth as he spoke. “Her boss says her best friend has a lot of friends who work the nightlife here, and chances are they are out tonight.”
I flexed my neck, trying to relieve the idea of her being out in a sea of people. Let alone who she was with.
“Keep me in the know.”
“Will do, boss.” He stepped through the door behind one of the bodyguards, and I followed.
The inside was long and narrow, with dim red lighting, a fully stocked whiskey bar to one side, and a stage that wrapped around the very back. Deep red curtains framed the stage like a Broadway production. A projector had the FR company logo as part of the backdrop in gold, and a jazz group played softly over the chatter. It was one of the many reasons I loved this place. The music wasn’t over the top, just enough to keep private conversations private.
“Good evening, Elio.” Maxon greeted me with a handshake. “It’s been a while, old friend. How’s your father?”
“It has.” I peered around the busy tables. “He’s well, thanks.”
“Happy to hear it.” He signaled for a waitress. “Once I got the call you were heading our way, I reserved your usual table in the back. Your guests have already arrived.”
“How many of them?” I needed to know we outnumbered them. After all, we were on his territory, not mine.
“Three at the table,” he said quietly, “and another four outside. I have one of my staff cleaning the back, so he will be keeping an eye out.”
Not great odds, but I kept my voice level. “As always, Maxon, your loyalty is sincerely appreciated.”
“You and your father have always shown me and my staff the upmost respect over the years. I welcome any Capri who walks through our door. I wish I could say the same for your guests.”
“Have they been a problem?”
He motioned for me to follow him. “Let’s just say they aren’t as refined as the Capris.”
“Is that so?” That would have to be dealt with. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Greatly appreciated, as always.”
I had always liked Maxon, and our respect for his restaurant, staff, and customers was a testimony to that.
I glanced at Vinni, who was still on the phone.
“Mr. Raine,” Maxon pulled back the curtain and hooked it around a cast iron rod, “Mr. Capri has arrived.”
“Elio.” Jacob made no attempt to stand or to shake hands as he pointed to a seat across the table. “Punctual, as always.”
“I am.” I watched as the waitress hurried away with a nervous look to fetch our drinks from the top tier cabinet.
“Cute, isn’t she?” He smirked as he shook his head. “Although she’s not really my type.”
“Mm.” I chose not to pull at that thread. Jacob had a reputation with women. “So.” I unbuttoned my jacket and took a seat in the red leather chair, thanking the waitress when she set down a wedge glass and the bottle of whiskey they kept here for me.
“Glenfiddich Grand twenty-three.” Jacob eyed the bottle. “That’s a good one.”
“I like it.” I poured him a glass and did the same for myself. “Shall we start this meeting, or would you like to discuss our dinner plans?”
“Damn, son.” He held up the glass and admired the amber color. “No foreplay? Yikes, that just chafes the head.” He reached down and shifted himself crudely.