Proposal

Chapter 18

"Still? Are you serious? Maybe we should get you seen by someone." Al crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed beside Tony. Shaking his head, he rolled onto his back.

"No, I just need to rest. I told you, I already went to that little clinic and they told me it'll take some time. Just... don't worry about it. I'll be fine." He tried his best to sound convincing, but he wasn't sure if his brother was still buying it.

"Tony, it's been a week and you've felt like shit the whole time. I really think there's something more to this than just having eaten something bad. Let me call Pops and we can-"

"No." He said the word before he could think. If Al called their father, than this little ruse would without a doubt be found out. "No, don't... don't bother Pops. He's got too much on his plate already. I don't want him worrying about me too." Al watched him for a moment, clearly contemplating on making the call anyways, but after a few moments, he sighed.

"Alright, fine. If everything goes well tonight, which I don't see why it wouldn't, we should be heading out tomorrow morning. Maybe it'll go away by the time we get home." Tony nodded weakly and his brother pat him on the shoulder. "I have to head out, and I have no idea how long this meeting will take. After all, I have to meet with Bugsy himself to finalize everything. Will you be good here alone?" Again, he nodded weakly.

"Go, I'll be fine." Al gave him a quick smile before pushing off the bed and getting ready. Watching his brother leave the hotel room, he finally felt like he could breathe. He was absolutely itching to get out of bed, which he hadn't been doing any time Al was there. He had to keep up the appearance that he really was sick, because if Al even remotely believed he was feeling better, he would definitely force him to go. Jumping out of the bed at the first chance he could, Tony threw on some clothes and made sure he looked decent. He knew the clothes were gonna come off in maybe an hour anyways, but he didn't care. That first impression of the night always meant something.

As he left the room, he thought of the day before, when his bother had been gone all day and he'd spent the time with John, wandering around the city and seeing things that Siegel's men definitely hadn't shown them. Things that could potentially be assets to them in the future, if it came to that. Making his way to the bar, he looked at the sights around him that he hadn't thought of before. Sure, Siegel's men probably knew this, but the desert itself could be an impressive asset. Take your victim out far enough and leave them stranded, they'll never make it back to town. Not to mention if you simply tied them up, maybe even buried them alive. There were so many possibilities that Tony just knew his father would love to capitalize on. Beyond that, the up and coming establishments and businesses that the area had offered more than it's fair share of a secondary gain, or even a cover for the operation. The ideas swimming in his head were all dependent upon his brother sealing the deal, of course.

Reaching the bar, he stepped inside and looked around quickly. Given that Siegel's goons had taken them there on the first day, he didn't want to get caught there if they'd gone back again. Especially not meeting up with a man. Once he'd made sure that the coast was clear, he moved to the bar and slid onto the stool. He ain't here yet, but do you want something to hold you over until then?" Looking up at the bartender, he smiled.

"Sure. What do you recommend?" The man thought about it before turning and starting to throw something together.

"Now, normally, guys don't like this kinda thing. They say it's too feminine and fruity for their tastes, but I think you will." Tony couldn't help glaring at the man.

"Fruity, huh?" He wasn't dumb, he knew an insult when he heard one, and he knew what that word meant.

"Yeah, you know..." The man looked back at him and clearly realized the wording was wrong. "No, no, not fruity like that. I mean like... actual fruit flavored shit. That's why I think you'd appreciate it more than beer. Besides... you're Italian, right?" Confused, he nodded slowly. "So, you'll be able to handle it. This ain't a light drink." He placed the glass in front of Tony and beamed with pride. "I don't get to make these types of things often, so it's fun for me when I can. A lot more use of my skills than just popping open a beer, you know?" Looking the drink over, Tony couldn't help but be impressed. It was bubbly and golden, and smelled like lemons. The taste was tart, and exactly like it's smell. He felt the burn of alcohol a few moments after swallowing and then the kick after about a minute. "So?" Nodding, he had to say he was impressed.