Omerta - Mario Puzo [111]
“I’m very fond of the girl myself, as you know,” Mr. Pryor said. “A truly Mafioso girl. Are you going back to Sicily?”
“No,” Astorre said. “We have more important business.”
CHAPTER 13
ONCE NICOLE gave the waiter her order, she focused intently on Marriano Rubio. She must deliver two important messages on this day, and she wanted to be certain she got both of them right.
Rubio had chosen the restaurant, a classy French bistro where waiters hovered nervously with tall varnished pepper mills and long straw baskets of crusty fresh bread. Rubio disliked the food, but he knew the maître d’, so he was assured a good table in a quiet corner. He brought his women there often.
“You’re quieter than usual tonight,” he said, reaching across the table for her hand. Nicole felt a shiver run through her body. She realized that she hated him for having that power over her, and she pulled her hand away. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“It’s been a difficult day,” she said.
“Ah,” he said with a sigh, “the price of working with snakes.” Rubio had no regard for Nicole’s law firm. “Why do you put up with them? Why don’t you let me take care of you instead?”
Nicole wondered how many other women had fallen for his line and then thrown away their careers to be with him.
“Don’t tempt me,” she said flirtatiously.
This surprised Rubio, who knew Nicole was devoted to her career. But this was what he had hoped. “Let me take care of you,”he repeated. “Besides, how many more corporations can you sue?”
One of the waiters opened a cold bottle of white wine, offered Rubio the cork, poured a small amount into an elegant crystal wineglass. Rubio tasted it and nodded. Then he turned his attention back to Nicole.
“I’d quit right now,” she said, “but there are some pro bono cases I want to see through.” She sipped her wine. “Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about banking.”
Rubio’s eyes narrowed. “Well,” he said, “lucky for you that banks run in the family.”
“Yes,” Nicole agreed, “but unfortunately my father didn’t believe women were capable of running a business. So I have to stand by and watch my crazy cousin screw things up.” She raised her head to look at him when she added, “By the way, Astorre thinks you’re out to get him.”
Rubio tried to look amused. “Really? And how would I accomplish this?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Nicole said, annoyed. “Remember, this is a guy who sells macaroni for a living. He’s got flour on the brain. He says you want to use the bank for money laundering and who knows what else. He even tried to convince me that you were trying to kidnap me.” Nicole knew she had to be careful here. “But I can’t believe that. I think Astorre is behind everything that’s been happening. He knows that my brothers and I want to control the banks, so he’s trying to make us paranoid. But we’re tired of listening to him.”
Rubio studied Nicole’s face. He was proud of his ability to separate truth from fiction. In his years as a diplomat, he had been lied to by some of the most respected statesmen in the world. And now, as he looked deeply into Nicole’s eyes, he determined she was telling him the absolute truth.
“Just how tired are you?” he asked.
“We’re all exhausted,” Nicole said.
Several waiters appeared and fussed over them for long minutes in order to deliver their main course. When the waiters had finally retreated, Nicole leaned toward Rubio and whispered, “Most nights my cousin works late at his warehouse.”
“What are you suggesting?” Rubio asked.
Nicole lifted her knife and began to slice her main course, dark medallions of duck swimming