I spend the rest of the day with Fiona, having a celebratory lunch at Il Fiasco before we make a quick trip to the shopping mall. I enjoy a celebratory blowjob in the Victoria's Secret change room, at least until the noise attracts the clerk who chases us out under a glare of indignation. Unfazed, we return to my apartment to complete our copulation and lay in each other's arms for hours. Eventually, Fiona has to get dressed and go home and I get ready for the meeting.
I approach the front of the Del Sarto building for the second time today. This time it is dark, the shadows of the alleyways have annexed new territories, spreading past their previous boundaries and obscuring details with shadow.
There are only a couple of lights on in the windows of the upper floor and the lobby shines like a beacon meant to guide passing ships. There is a silhouette of a large, broad-shouldered man standing inside the lobby entrance.
As I approach it, my eyes adjust. I realize that the silhouette in the doorway is one of the security guards from earlier and he is holding the door open for me. I’m slightly taken aback, a little surprised.
“Good evening sir,” the man says, with genuine enthusiasm.
“Um…Thanks!” I reply awkwardly.
I meet another guard inside the lobby who is already walking toward the elevator. The man motions with a gesture that I should follow with his back turned, never making eye contact.
“Right this way sir,” his baritone voice rumbles.
“Ok…” I continue to struggle with awkwardness.
The guard stalks to the elevator and turns, crossing his arms and staring straight ahead. I have a moment to consider that perhaps this man’s demeanor is intentional. He could never identify those who come and go for clandestine business with his employer if he should ever be interrogated by the authorities. Before I can solidify the theory in my mind, the steel door slides open revealing another guard standing inside. I take a quick glance across the lobby and then enter the confined box hesitantly.
When the elevator stops, I step out nervously. I startle a little when the man behind me speaks.
“Have a good night sir,” he says in a firm monotone.
My cool and collected image is really taking a beating tonight.
The door to Sal’s office is open so I hesitantly walk in. The big man sees me and gets up from his desk surprisingly fast. He looks happy, slapping a big hand on my back and chomping a cigar as he guides me toward another open door at the back of his office.
“Joey! Glad to see you made it my boy! Meet the rest of the team…”
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