Maelstrom

Chapter 32: Reasonably Sure

It felt like a knife had been plunged in my gut. He was starting to trust me – me! I had been planted here to help take him down, and now he wanted to give me the keys to the kingdom. I felt like Delilah, or Mata Hari.

"What's wrong?" he asked, sliding off the desk.

Think. "Um, you're not going to ask me to kill anybody, are you? Like, as a test?"

A surprised laugh burst from his perfect lips. "No. Though your skills with household plumbing appliances are impressive, I thought we'd start off with something small, like tending the private bar in the owner's box."

"That's it?"

"That's it. I'll be taking more meetings now, and what happened a couple of weeks ago in this office was ... instructive. The balcony is private but on display, and an easier space for my security to control. Having meetings in the club, with drinks poured and served regularly – by someone who can keep their mouth shut – sets a more relaxed tone, and I've seen that having you around can be ... advantageous."

My look was puzzled. "You're very distracting," he explained. "Men can't help but divide their focus when you're around, and I can use that."

"Oh," I responded. "By 'advantageous,' I thought you might be referring to the fact that I swing a mean cistern lid."

"That, too, of course, but I don't intend to be in a position to need that kind of saving again. Just the drinks, and your distracting presence."

I hesitated. I was way, way, way out of my depth on this one. All I was sent to do at Asylum was try to spot persons of interest on their way in or out of the club. Now Ivan was offering me a ringside seat to potentially every meeting he conducted on behalf of the cartel. The information I would have access to could be enough to keep the D.A.'s office applying for search warrants around the clock.

But I wouldn't be able to explain how I had come by any of it. Unless I came clean with DiMarco now, and he decided it was worth the risk to his investigation to have a rookie cop that he'd only met a few times work deep cover on what could be the sting of the decade, risking a major embarrassment to the department and the end of any hope they had of using Alkaev to get to the Santiago cartel. And, of course, if I were killed on the job, Mormor would tie the NYPD up in legal knots that would take decades of fighting and terrible publicity for them to unravel.

No. Even if DiMarco was unaware of my family connections, I knew him well enough to know that he was too cautious to attempt such a thing. The second I opened my mouth about Ivan taking an interest in me, I'd be pulled from Asylum. Hell, DiMarco would probably figure out a way to have me transferred to Albany, just to be safe.

"You're very pensive," Ivan observed.

"What if I say 'no'?" I asked.

He leaned back on the desk and gripped the edge lightly. "As you know, that's my least favorite word," he commented. "Why would you say no?"

"Well, for one, you're taking me from my station at one of the busiest bars in the city and sticking me in a private room with only a few customers. I have to pay rent, you know, and so far, your guests have been lousy tippers."

I could see he was trying not to smile. "How much do you usually clear in tips here?"

I considered. "On a Wednesday or a Thursday, maybe $200 or so. Upwards of $300 on a weekend."

"Okay. Let's say that on the nights you work the box, you'll receive a $500 gratuity, regardless of number of drinks poured or patrons served."

I was impressed; he'd handled that complaint pretty masterfully. The other one was harder. "The patrons themselves are the other problem. I may not speak Spanish," I lied, "but it was pretty hard to miss what your last guest was interested in.

"If you're looking for someone to whore it up for visiting criminals so you can gain the upper hand in your negotiations, you're going to have to find someone else. At the main bar, I have a whole counter between my body and drunken hands trying to grope it." Which usually works, I thought uncomfortably, remembering Red Shirt's initial attack. But it didn't compare to Morales's much more intimate grab for my legs. "Up in your box, I have no defense," I finished. I was surprised to hear the quaver in my voice.

Ivan let out a pent up breath and stalked over to stand in front of me. He put his hand under my chin and gently tilted my face so that I had to look him in the eyes. Those incredible, riveting eyes.

"I promise you, I will not let that happen again. No one will ever lay a hand on you while you are working for me." He released my chin and looked down at his own hand. "Except, apparently, me."

I smiled. Ivan reached out and pulled a pigtail through his fingers. "Do you believe me?" he asked.

"That you're going to occasionally try to lay a hand on me? Yes, absolutely I believe you," I retorted.

He dropped the pigtail. "And the other part?"

I took a deep breath, which he watched appreciatively. Oh, lord. "Yes, I believe you."

"Is this something that you feel you can do?"

I thought for a tenth of a second. "I can."

"It's a start. And I intend to keep working on those other things you feel you can't do, and keep running from. In the meantime, I've got a meeting scheduled for 10:00, and you still need to prep the bar."

"Tonight?" I squeaked, looking at my watch. It was already 8:42pm. "How many people, and for how long?"

"I'm expecting two guests, and they'll probably be here for at least a couple of hours."

"Any special requests?"

He grinned. "Quite a few, actually. but I'll save those for after the others have left. For now, just make sure you have a couple of bottles of Casa Dragones on hand."

I nodded and turned to leave. I paused with my hand on the doorknob. "After the way I left the café yesterday, how could you know I would say yes to this tonight?" I asked. I had to know if he realized how much power he already had over me.

Ivan stopped his appraisal of my legs and ass and refocused on my face. "My whole life has been based on reading other people and gambling on my conclusions. Taking into account everything I knew about you, I was sure we could come to some sort of arrangement."

"'Sure,' were you?"

"Reasonably sure," he amended.

That would have to be good enough, I decided. With a parting flip of my pigtails, I went to make everything ready for another set of New York's most wanted.