HE NEXT MORNING Courtenay slumbered late. Declan stood at the floor-to-ceiling window, silhouetted against the diffuse golden glare through the muslin drapes. Liam called room service for breakfast.
“She sleeping snugly?” Declan asked.
“Ah, yes.” Liam’s smile was warm. Protective. “Like a kitten. She stretches every now and then.” He poured himself more coffee from the morning pot. Winced at the cold brew.
“Oh, I love to watch over her when she does that. Screws her little face and flexes her shoulders or clenches up her legs.”
“Oh, yes. Then she releases it with a long breath and that soft little smile.”
“I love to see her smile while she’s sleeping, you know?”
Liam’s grin stretched, “I think you’re quite in love with our little minx, you know it?”
“Oh, and you’re not, I suppose?”
“Ah, well. Maybe just a bit.”
“A bit.” Declan’s laugh was a gentle mocking. “You’d give her your bones.”
“True enough.”
Then Declan asked him, “What do you think that Arden’s up to with this thing?”
“Ah, I don’t know. We can’t even tell if it’s Arden piling fuckeries on top of bullcrap there.”
“Something odd’s afoot, and that’s for certain. Asking us to work with the golden boys of the Rhineland.”
“Or whoever the fuck they are.”
Declan looked at his watch. “Do you think Arden’s grooming them to take our place?”
“Or is he just setting us all up for something?”
“There’s a lot of doubt in this job.”
“You’re thinking we should take a pass on it, right?”
Liam scowled at the cold coffee and checked the time on his phone. “God, room service takes a fucking age in these places. We shouldn’t do it. Probably. I’m thinking we shouldn’t. What do you think?”
“I think we should definitely know more before we decide to commit. I do surely hate the thought of passing up on a perfectly good piece of work.”
“Me too. Maybe not quite as much as I hate the thought of spending the next few decades dead, though.”
“Or in jail.”
“That, too.”
Declan told him, “You’re always the steady voice of reason. If it was just me, I know I’d probably be blasting out from the middle of one firefight and straight into the next.” Liam shook his head gently as he looked over. Then made a face as he finished the cup of cold coffee. Declan went on, “But if the Aryan twins made a success out of it, and we’d passed it up, well, that would be pretty fucking galling, would you not say?”
“I would say that. And it could be, what did Arden say, what was the phrase you said that he used?”
“Reputationally damaging.”
“Is that even a word?”
“Do you mean, ‘Reputationally’? I wouldn’t know. You’re the fucking scholar, my good friend. But it’s what he said.”
“All of the effort we put in to invisibility. The light step. Leaving no trace. We work at having no reputation at all, and Arden wants us to worry about whether it’s a good no-reputation or a bad no-reputation.” Declan nodded as Liam went on, “It’s the way of all business now. The burden moves more and more to the worker.”
“Ah, now, you’re not about agitating for a Socialist collective of hitmen, enforcers and criminal subcontractors now, are you?”
“No, you’re right. I’m just letting off steam.”
“I know what you mean, though. It’s manipulation is what it is.”
“Who’s manipulating?” Courtenay leaned against the bedroom door, her hair all mussed and her eyes still not fully open. Her voice was dreamy and soft and her turquoise satin robe hung loose around her. Before she’d gotten the words out, both men moved swiftly to her. Liam caught her around the waist and snuggled his face into the crook of her neck.
From the other side, Declan wrapped his arms around her.
He poured his voice into her ear, through the muss of her hair. “Looks like you could be in need of some manipulation.”
She peered up and kissed him, and a pursed, Cupid’s bow smile stayed on her lips while her eyes remained shut. She turned the other way and took a kiss from Liam. Longer, but still gentle. Although, from behind, she did feel through their pants the rising interest of their two lengthening cocks, Liam’s against the cheek of her ass, Declan’s at the back of her thigh, almost ready to slip inside.
With her eyes still closed, she stroked both of their faces and drew a long, soft breath in through her nostrils.
“I’m going to shower,” she peeked up, first at Liam, then to Declan. Liam hugged closer against her. “Breakfast is on its way up.”
Her hands both reached back and stroked and gripped. “That’s not all that’s on its way up,” she breathed hoarsely. She leaned back. Liam caressed her breast through the satin and Declan trace the line of her chin, then her neck and then her shoulder.
Her head tipped back as both men’s free hands stroked her ass and her thighs. Declan held her throat as he tipped her head back. He looked in her eyes before talking a long, soft, deep kiss. Her back arched and she stretched.
Room service knocked on the door. Courtenay pulled herself free and said, “I’ll take my shower. Leave me some breakfast.”
Declan went to check the spy-hole before he opened the door.
Liam took a squeeze of her ass before she left. “You’d better be quick.”
She stroked his cock, teasing, “You don’t always say that.” And she went back through the bedroom and into the bathroom.
“If you start with the hot-tub,” he called after her, “the food will all be gone by the time you get back.”
The waiter wheeled in the cart and Liam descended on the coffee pot before the boy had even finished removing the covers and set the table up. Declan tipped him before he left and said, “You’d better bring us another pot of coffee right away.”
Liam drank a cup of coffee down in gulps and poured himself another. “Do you think she’s getting tired of us?”
“Ah, what would you do if you couldn’t find anything to worry about?”
“How would I ever not be able to find something to worry about?”
Declan buttered a triangle of toast, added some preserves and began to crunch. “How much do you know about deLunghi?”
“Well, I know that he’s called ‘Hammer’ and I know it’s not because of his enthusiasm for home improvement.”
“Seriously.”
“Seriously? He was born into the Bonamasso family, and was the favorite nephew of Antonio. There were stories that Antonio’s love for his sister was a lot more than brotherly, and so his affection for young Hammer may have been more than what you might expect from a close uncle.”
“His name’s not ‘Hammer,’ though.” Declan took another piece of toast.
“Are you just going to stand there and graze randomly at the breakfast table?” Declan shrugged and grinned as he crunched. “No.” Liam told him, “His given name is Massimo.”
He poured more coffee for himself. “Massimo deLunghi was Antonio’s most feared enforcer. Once when a small business owner was late on a protection payment, he nailed three of the man’s fingers to a table. He always carried a hammer with him and if he ever took it out, someone was going to be getting some nasty injury. Often ending up with final blows to the head.”
“He doesn’t sound like a very nice man.”
“Very good in the community, it’s said.”
“Ah, those Catholics and their penance.”
Liam shrugged. “People talk about how he’s all about helping the youth and improving the lot of the poor.”
“But, would those mainly be people who are scared shitless of him?”
“I never heard of anyone who knew him who wasn’t scared shitless of him.”
The phone rang. Both men’s eyebrows raised. Liam took the call. Declan mouthed Arden? Liam nodded back.
After an exchange he held the phone away. “He says there’s plenty who would be glad of the work. What should I tell him?”
“Give him here.” Declan took the phone. He listened for a moment. “I’m sure that you’re right, Mr. Arden, sir, but, as you’re often very fond of reminding us, all the rest of them fellers are a whole lot less fucking expensive than we are. So that leaves me asking myself why it is that you didn’t go to one of them in the first place instead of us?”
He listened again.
“We’re going to have to discuss this more, my colleague and I. We’ll come back to you.” Another pause, “Yes. I realize there’s a need for a fast decision… yes. Yes, this morning. Most definitely.” He was about to hang up, but his eyes widened as he listened some more. “Oh. Well, that’s important to know.”
Liam was thoughtful and quiet as he hung up. He put cereal into a bowl. “It doesn’t feel right, you know? Working in a foreign country, working with those two guys…”
“And they’ll be on home turf as well, that doesn’t make it feel any better.”
“But you know what? The thing that sits in the back of my mind, the thing that’s troubling me the most, is the fact that Arden wants it done at a particular time.”
“I know what you mean.” Declan took a cup of coffee. “It’s like it’s meant to send a message or make a point of some kind.”
Liam paced around the room. “Some sort of a display almost. Like it’s a show.”
Declan sat at the breakfast table. Then he immediately got up again. “I’m with you there. I’ve never wanted to have our work seen as a spectator sport.”
“It doesn’t feature at the Olympics, sure enough.”
“And if it fucking did, you and I wouldn’t be entering.”
Liam paused by the window. “But you have to think, what if we let the blond twins have it for themselves? And what if they make a success of it? Bring home the bacon, as it were.”
Declan slumped into a couch. “What if they do? It’s not a competitive sport.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. But it might mean that we might risk getting sidelined on jobs in the future. That we’d get less of the plum work afterwards. That we see it all go to the twins instead.”
“Right enough. And I’ve a feeling that we’ve been pretty much the golden boys for some time now. Still, would it be a very bad thing? It could mean a slightly quieter life for a little while, maybe.”
“It would be bad from the point of view of our future prosperity and general well-being. It would be from the perspective of all the pretty things and treats we’re able to provide for our lovely Miss Bouncy Beauty. And it would generally inhibit our ability to make choices and have control over our lives. Wouldn’t those all be undesirable outcomes from your particular vantage?”
“Well, when you put it that way.”
Courtenay came back smiling, refreshed and glowing from the shower, still with the robe draped loosely around her. And, as both men took the trouble to notice, with nothing covering her skin underneath it. Liam stepped toward her. “I am wondering what our own Miss Dairy Queen would think.” He hugged her shoulders and kissed her cheek. “What do you say, my lewd little treasure?”
Courtenay asked what he meant and Liam outlined the conversation so far. Declan piped up, “There’s one piece of new information which may or may not bear on our thinking.” Setting his coffee down, he came to Courtenay’s other side and ran his hand down her back.
Declan’s phone rang again. “He can’t be fucking serious.” He took the phone from his pocked and glowered at the screen. Then he frowned and looked at Liam as he answered. “Who’s this?”
His eyes widened.
He told Liam, “It’s Horst.” Then said, “How did you get this number?”
Liam muttered, “There’s only one place he could have gotten it.”
Looking up, Declan said, “Gunner’s got Carlo’s job.”
Liam’s head snapped around and his eyebrows lifted, “Driving deLunghi?”
Declan nodded. “Okay, well, that’s… No, we’ve not decided yet… Yes, he just called. We know. Okay, you’d better text me your number then… No, it came up ‘number withheld.’… Yes. Sure. We’ll be in touch.”
Liam narrowed his eyes. “What’s the fucker playing at?”
Declan’s head cocked, “Horst?”
“Arden.”
“Oh. Giving them our number?”
“And getting one of them onto Hammer’s payroll.”
“You can see the sense of it.”
“Well, maybe. But he doesn’t get involved with operational issues.”
“No, that’s true.”
“It muddies the water.”
Declan nodded. “There’s a lot of dark stuff going on here.”
Liam sat back at the table, by his empty coffee cup, and pulled Courtenay onto his lap. “What about this damned ‘conference’ your man deLunghi’s attending? Since when do mobsters have conferences?”
“Well, I’ve certainly never been invited to one.”
“You’re not a mobster.”
“I am that. Carmine Monreale told me I was an ‘honorary’ guy.”
“Did he now? Well, that’s something I never knew about you.”
“So what do you think, boss?”
“I think the only times you ever call me that are when you want to set me up for the blame on something.”
“You know me too well.”
“Well, it tells me something.”
“What?”
“It tells me that you want to do it.”
“How can it tell you that when I’ve not yet decided myself?”
“You see? You have. You just haven’t come to terms with it. You haven’t rationalized it. But you’ve decided, sure as eggs are eggs. And the reason I know is because that’s why you want to make sure that I’m taking the blame for it. In case it all turns out for shit.”
“You think you’re fucking clever.”
Courtenay picked up a peach. “He is fucking clever. So are you, though. You don’t give yourself credit.”
Liam jigged his thigh to make her bounce. “Oh, don’t be fooled, sugar buns, he gives himself enough of that. It’s just when it comes to it, he wants to avoid blame more than he wants to stand in line for credit.”
“Mm.” Declan’s eyes narrowed. “You do know me too well.”
“Ah, it goes both ways.”
“Does it?”
Liam just grinned.
“So,” Courtenay looked from Declan to Liam to her peach, “What are you going to do, boys? What’s it to be?”
Liam looked up, smiling, “What would you think, Miss Main Street and Behind?”
She thought about it and frowned. “I wouldn’t tell you boys what to do. Not in your business. Not for anything.” And she watched them as she sank her teeth into the peach. She jumped and clapped her other hand to her chin as the juice exploded around her lips.
“No, and we love you for it.” Declan squeezed her. “But I think still we’d both like to know what you think. What your instinct is about it.”
“I think she may be a little reticent, our own special gobbler, because she has some feelings about seeing the two blond barnstormers. I think she’d like to get inside their lederhosen.”
“Or maybe get what’s in them out.”
“Stop it!”