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Chapter One Hundred One

LUNA

Sam said I’d have to trade something of my own, so I went into my room and got the Nike bag. The contents of it are laid out on the coffee table, except the underwear and the toiletry kit, which I’m not trading.

“Nazario Corragio isn’t here to certify this deal,” Sam says with irritation in her voice.

“Where is he?” I ask.

“Somewhere else.”

That’s all she says. I don’t care about him. As far as I’m concerned, any deal I make with Orlando is binding.

He’s on the phone while he and Serafina stare at each other. It’s not that a conversation is happening between them as much as they’re both showing off how guarded they can be.

Orlando hangs up. “I know someone at the Fifth Chamber. They haven’t seen Carmine come in.”

“And they’ll call you if he shows up?”

“If they see him, they’ll call. Can we get on with it?”

“Right.” I hold my hands out to the stuff on the table. “This is it. The Amex card is the best deal. I’m sure I can transfer all fifty grand on it.”

“I don’t need money.” He picks up the scrap of paper with Etta’s Smorfia -inspired Lotto numbers written on it. That got onto the table by accident, but when he makes a breathy little laugh before tossing it to the side, it annoys me.

“I’m not trying to be funny,” I say.

He snaps up the scrap again. “Do you not know what this is?”

32, 3, 84, 14, 27, 8

“Lottery numbers. Could be worth a lot, or nothing? I got them a while ago, so they’re probably not good anymore. The clock is lapis. That’s got to be worth something.”

“This is a number for an Oracle.” He wedges the paper between two fingers and passes it to me.

“What oracle?” I snap it away and look at it. “Like a fortune teller?”

“Do you not know what an oracle is?”

"I know what the word means.” Did Etta and Silvia give me lottery numbers? Maybe? But also…

(323) 841-4278

“Shit. Los Angeles area code.”

“You should hang onto it.” He glances at Serafina, but she’s staring out the window. “It’s real. Not a lady reading your palm.”

“Is that a person? I can just call them? And what happens? Will they tell me the future?”

“It’s different for everyone.” He holds up the Amex.

Before he can say a word, Serafina leans forward and swipes away the card.

“It’s all she has.” She flips it into the Nike bag.

“I don’t want a purple clock.”

“Take her where she wants to go. Then you and me, we can talk.”

“Serafina,” I hiss.

“What? I’m consenting to half an hour.”

“Half an hour?” he asks.

“You didn’t think I’d trade my whole life for a half an hour of yours, did you?”

I reach into the bag for the Amex. “Fifty grand. Here.”

He doesn’t take it. He just taps his thumbs together, tilting his head at Serafina. “Sixty.”

I’m distressed. “I only have?—”

“Forty-five,” Serafina counters, and I realize I’m not ten thousand short.

“I want sixty minutes.” He leans on his knees, weaving his fingers together. “Or I take the money.”

She looks him up and down with her haughtiest expression. She wants to give him the time, but won’t offer it for free. If she’s not trading at a loss, I’m not going to let my pride stop her from dealing.

“Fine,” she says finally. “You take her to the door and make sure it’s open.”

“Sold.” He nods graciously then turns to me. “When are we leaving?”

“Luna will never get into a nightclub dressed like a slob.” Serafina takes my hand and yanks me away.