Page 7

Gabriel

When I walked into the office this morning Anders was already there sitting on the couch, when he noticed the door open, he stood.

I wasn’t expecting him until later due to the overtime he worked last night.

I heard on the morning news that one of Pulse Entertainment’s studios had been involved in a fire.

Electrical fault, but no malicious activity is expected.

“James O’Connell was delivered back to his father this morning.”

“I’m assuming that a meeting has also been set up with Mr O’Connell?”

“Boss, Tomorrow, 11am,”

Anders goes to walk out of my office but stops as he gets to the door and turns back.

“Boss, women don’t do well in this world.

They either can’t handle it or are used against you.

If you want someone to play with that can be arranged.”

I say nothing, looking at him.

I know it can, it has been in the past, whenever I’ve wanted it, and they will do whatever I want.

But Kelcie is doing something to me, something that no one ever has.

She’s denied me and meant it, making me want her more.

I am going to make her mine.

“Just say the word Boss,”

he says as he leaves.

I complete the final requirements for my grandfather’s funeral.

I message Anders to have my apartment sorted so that I can stay there for the week whilst I have the house redecorated.

If I am taking it over, then I’m going to make it more my style.

I’ve arranged to speak with an interior designer tomorrow and already informed them that I want work to commence immediately.

You can get whatever you want when you have the cash to throw around.

I did alright before I started with the business, the rigs made me enough that when I was home, I didn’t have to do anything.

That and the fact I rented out the second room of my apartment whenever I was away meant I was comfortable.

However, in this world, I am more than comfortable.

I checked over the staff schedule and know that Kelcie is on shift until 4pm, I decided that I would give her a lift home and arrange to take her out for a date on Wednesday.

Her face when she sees me waiting for her is a sight I won’t forget.

By the time I have taken her home, arranged a time to pick her up on Wednesday and finished things off back at the office it’s nearing 7pm.

I go downstairs and head to my booth, I have one whisky to ‘show face’.

After the last 24-hours of antics I don’t have the energy for people.

I sit in silence, something that I enjoy.

I’ve arrived in the office by 10am due to the meeting that is scheduled with O’Connell today.

I need the figures of his outstanding debt from his initial loan and to decide what is going to be added to it for the consequences of his son’s actions.

I was informed by David that James O’Connell has taken an extended holiday courtesy of his father, who supposedly didn’t give him authorisation to make the move he did.

Whilst in the past DeMarco’s haven’t ‘got their hands dirty’, it’s my approval that’s required for it to be executed.

When consequences are delivered it doesn’t entail time for conversation, which Mr O’Connell had a preview of after his first mistake and he was lucky that the damage wasn’t permanent.

It's 10:45am, and O’Connell is here, he’s in the bar, David directed him there since he arrived 15 minutes early for our meeting.

I knew he would.

He knows that this meeting is wasting my time, and that this shouldn’t be happening which is why he has already shipped his son off.

He wants to portray the image of him ‘dealing’ with the situation that is the lack of loyalty of his son unless he did in fact give the nod to proceed.

I know he wants to protect him after he was dropped off on his doorstep in the early hours, unconscious, with broken bones and his eyes swollen shut.

With the beating he took even if he did come around, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t regain full brain functions.

I leave O’Connell waiting in the bar, watching him on the security cameras, sweating, fidgeting, wondering if he is going to walk out of here at all.

He will.

The Sicuro is and will remain, clean and legal.

It’s now approaching 1130am and David brings him to the office as directed.

Anders is sitting in the corner.

David opens the door, stepping to the side allowing O’Connell to walk through, then closes the door behind him and goes back downstairs.

“Mr DeMarco I, I, I’ve had him moved out the city, I, I NEVER approved his actions.”

He’s sputtering and stumbling over each word, the sweat is dripping off him.

He’s not a young guy and he learnt his lesson long ago.

Anders clears his throat, causing O’Connell to freeze where he stands, turning only his head to see who’s in the room and the colour drains from his face.

I still haven’t spoken a word, as I sit in my chair.

“Could I reach into my pocket?”

I know he wouldn’t attempt to pull anything in here, he came alone to show that.

I nod.

He fumbles with his suit jacket button, finally getting it undone he reaches into his inside pocket and pulls out an envelope that contains what appears to be a thick wad of cash.

He holds it in the air.

“For the indiscretions of my son’s actions.

I am aware that there will be additional ‘fees’ added to my account, but I hope this ends anything with my son.”

He says shaking the envelope.

I look over at Anders, making a small swift gesture with my hand which lets him know to remove O’Connell from my office.

He walks up behind him takes the envelope and puts it in his inside jacket pocket.

There will be a minimum of ￡150k in there and Anders knows to keep this himself, to cover his and David’s increased obligations.

“This way O’Connell,”

Anders directs him out of my office, he turns and follows, his legs visibly shaking.

Anders walks him out.

“Your membership is still valid, but your fee has increased by 15%, but all bookings that you have are cancelled for the next six months,”

Anders states as he guides O’Connell from the building.

The only action O’Connell can make is a small but fast nod.

Anders walks him all the way to the pavement and then taps his arse to indicate to leave.

O’Connell turns and walks away taking deep heavy short breaths.

The meeting lasted less than 15 minutes, I never spoke a word.

Anders walks back in laughing to himself.

“Boss, you’re more like your grandfather than you know.”

A scoff escapes my mouth.

I don’t mind having my grandfather’s attributes, he was a good man, to those close to him.

“Is it a clean meat and veggies lunch or a deli?”

I try to eat well, I found out quickly that in this business you miss meals and then grab them on the go.

One of the reasons my grandfather’s wife started bringing him cooked meals when she came.

I raise one eyebrow.

“Clean it is.”

My call with the interior designer isn’t until this evening, she is staying late to accommodate me, so I have some free time.

I decide to pop to the bar, Kelcie is on shift and as I walk in, I can see the tension take over her body and I’m starting to like the fact I have some kind of hold over her.

Over the next couple of hours, I watch her work, during which David has been over a handful of times informing me of members wishing to approach to offer their condolences.

All of which I decline.

I make sure I leave before her shift finishes so that I can wait outside for her and take her home.

I want to see her in the dress I picked so I need to get her to take it.

As she leaves, she walks straight towards me.

“Lift?”

“Asking or telling?”

I hold the car door open and hold my hand out for her, which she ignores again.

She gets in and doesn’t speak.

I let the tension build up, just as we are approaching her apartment, I gesture to the parcels in the seat across from us.

“These are for you.”

She takes her focus away from looking out the window and looks at them.

“No thank you.”

“They are for tomorrow evening, they will be more suitable than your jeans.”

As the driver pulls up, I place my hand on her thigh, indicating that she is to wait for me to open her door, and she does.

I open her door and again hold out my hand, which again she does not take but I follow her and place my hand on her lower back.

“Tomorrow 8pm,”

I confirm with her.

I prewarned my driver to follow me to her door and hand the parcels to her, thinking she couldn’t refuse that way.

Luckily, she took them.

I came back to the office, had my call with the interior designer told her the kind of style that I wanted, she asked me to give her four words describing what I liked.

Modern, clean, simple, and practical, I don’t need expensive art hanging on the walls.

I requested that four out of the five bedrooms be made into comfortable guest rooms, but the master be left as it is.

Not because I want to keep it that way, but because I have specific requirements for it, and I don’t have the time to go into the details now.

I can sleep in a guest room until it is completed to my liking.

I’m in the office early.

Today is the day that I lay to rest some random homeless person, correction my grandfather.

It’s a cremation, he wanted to make sure there was no way of ‘digging up’ any details.

Due to the size of crematoriums, a service is going to be held in the church grounds and then he will be moved to the crematorium and ‘processed’ accordingly.

The one detail that I didn’t agree with but was not non-negotiable is that the urn would be kept in the office at The Sicuro.

The thought of having a stranger’s ashes in there didn’t seem right.

My grandfather said we should look at it from a different angle.

That we don’t know how long this guy was on the streets, never having a comfortable bed.

At least now he rests somewhere elegant.

There was no wake arranged.

It’s expected that everyone will return to The Sicuro, which I am content with.

I can sit in my booth, undisturbed and watch her.

The service went smoothly, David and Anders had their teams making sure there was no interference.

When it finishes, I go back to the office, and Anders follows.

“All good Boss?”

“You tell me.”

“No issues and no signs of any imminent business to be taken care of.

Downstairs has started to fill up.”

I remove my jacket and tie, undo my collar and two more buttons.

I need to portray the image of a grandson who has just lost the only member of his family that he had left.

Alongside having to deal with the fact that a member’s son thought I would be a weak target since he was gone.

I know what needs to be done.

I can’t be seen as only reacting to situations.

I need to be proactive and ensure that the members know that things have not changed, however, the consequences will be far worse.

“Boss,”

Anders calls me to remind me that I need to go to the bar.

“I know Anders.

I will be down shortly.”

Anders makes his way down to the bar, which would look like any other Wednesday lunchtime, however, the difference today is that the standard rules aren’t enforced.

Members will be moving around tables conversing, possibly even trying to develop business deals with each other.

No one will approach my booth without going through Anders first.

I throw my jacket back on and knock back a whisky before I make my way down glad that I arranged to take her out tonight, so I have a reason to leave.

As I walk into the bar, it becomes silent, those that are sitting, stand, I turn to Anders and nod, and the members return to their seats and conversations.

I make my way to my booth.

She’s working, and as soon as she noticed me, my whisky is poured, and a server brings it over.

The five older, original members request to come and give their condolences, which I agree to.

I decided after these that I am refusing anymore.

I want to be left alone.

I want to watch her.

A newer member, Mark Jackson, who Mr O’Connell agreed to guarantor, became a member so that he could buy and develop several apartment complexes.

I wasn’t on board with him becoming a member, but my grandfather saw how it would benefit the community.

We agreed on a small loan to enable him to get off the ground.

We planned on keeping an eye on him as I believe that he doesn’t have the attitude and control that’s needed in these kinds of circles.

He speaks with Anders to request to approach me, which is declined.

It’s visible that he isn’t happy, he continues to drink and becomes more and more agitated.

I know that David and the team are watching him, so I keep my eyes on Kelcie.

I can hear him getting louder and angrier.

He looks across and strides across the room with purpose but before he reaches my booth Anders is here standing with his back to me in front of the table facing Jackson.

“Am I not as entitled as they are?”

He shouts flailing his arms around and pointing toward the members in the room.

The room falls silent.

“Well, is my money not as valuable?”

He tries to push past Anders, who quickly has hold of him by the throat and slightly lifted off the ground, his toes are brushing the floor.

He drops his glass and grabs Anders’s wrist.

Standing I move out of my booth fastening and straightening my jacket.

No words are necessary, Anders waits until I pass them and then follows me, still holding Jackson by his throat and dragging him with him.

His feet are still slightly off the floor so he is unable to take actual steps.

I get to the door and hold it open.

Anders walks through taking Jackson with him.

Before I follow out the door I turn to the room.

“Gentlemen,”

I acknowledge the room before turning back and following Anders.

The guests in the room slowly restart their conversations.