“When will that be?” Laurie asked.
“Within a week or so,” Jordan said. “I just want to make sure his first eye goes well. I shudder every time I think about the possibility of complications. Not that I expect any. His case went perfectly well. But he refused to stay in the hospital overnight so I can’t be a hundred percent sure he’s getting the medication he needs.”
“Well, if he didn’t, it wouldn’t be your fault,” Laurie said.
“I’m not sure Cerino would see it that way,” Jordan said.
After dessert and coffee, Laurie agreed to go back to see Jordan’s apartment in the Trump Tower. She was impressed the moment she went through the door. Directly in front of her, almost at the same height as Jordan’s apartment, was the illuminated top of the Crown Building. Walking into the living room, Laurie could see south down Fifth Avenue to the Empire State Building and to the World Trade Center beyond. Looking north she could see a wedge of Central Park with its serpentine pathways fully illuminated.
“It’s gorgeous,” Laurie said. She was transfixed by the view of the New York skyline. As her eyes swept the horizon, she realized that Jordan was standing directly behind her.
“Laurie,” he said softly.
Turning around, Laurie found herself enveloped by Jordan’s muscular arms. His angular face was illuminated by reflected light streaming in through the windows from the golden apex of the Crown Building. With his lips slightly parted, he leaned forward intending to kiss her.
“Hey,” she said, disengaging herself. “How about an after-dinner drink?”
“Your wish is my command,” Jordan said with a rueful smile.
Laurie was a little surprised at herself. Surely she was not so naive to believe Jordan’s gesture wasn’t expected. After all, she’d gone out with the man nearly three nights in a row, and she did find him attractive. Yet for some reason she was beginning to have serious second thoughts.
“Well?” Tony mumbled as Angelo came back to the table from the phone outside the men’s room. Tony’s mouth was full. He’d just finished shoveling in a huge bite of tortellini con panna. Lifting up his napkin, he wiped off the ring of cream and cheese from his lips.
Angelo and Tony were in a small all-night restaurantsub shop in Astoria. It was Tony’s idea to stop, but Angelo didn’t mind since he had to call Cerino anyway.
“Well?” Tony repeated after he’d swallowed the tortellini in his mouth. He washed it down with mineral water.
“I wish you wouldn’t talk with food in your mouth,” Angelo said as he sat down. “It makes me sick.”
“I’m sorry,” Tony said. He was already busy stabbing tortellini with his fork in preparation for the next bite.
“He wants us to go out again tonight,” Angel said.
Tony shoveled the forkful of tortellini into his mouth, then said, “Great!” It sounded more like “rate.”
Having had yet another disgusting look at the mash of pasta in Tony’s mouth, Angelo reached over and picked Tony’s bowl from the table and crammed it upside down on Tony’s place mat.
Tony flinched at the sudden movement and stared at his upturned bowl with shocked surprise. “Why did you do that?” he whined.
“I told you not to eat with your mouth open,” Angelo snapped. “I’m trying to talk with you and you keep eating.”
“I’m sorry, all right?”
“Besides it pisses me off about Cerino sending us out,” Angelo said. “I thought we were finally finished with all this crap.”
“At least the money is good,” Tony said. “What are we supposed to do?”
“We’re supposed to stick to the supply side,” Angelo said. “We might be finished with the demand side, which is fine by me. That’s where we got into trouble.”
“When?” Tony asked.
“As soon as you get your ass out into the car,” Angelo said.
Fifteen minutes later, as they were approaching the Queensboro Bridge, Angelo spoke up: “There’s another thing that bothers me about this. I don’t like the timing. Late Saturday night is not a good time. We may have to change things around and be creative.”
“Why don’t we just use the phone?” Tony said. “We can make sure things are copacetic before we do anything else.”