Oh shit. Anthony.
The elevator for the penthouse arrives, and as I step into the car, I ask, “Speaking of our law-abiding, rule-enforcing, life-ruining friend—is he…in the building today?”
It’s Luca’s turn to look amused. “No, Mads. He’s out.”
The doors begin to close, so I wave and say, “Oh, good. Um, have fun racketeering!”
His amused chuckle drifts away as we ascend.
Ford’s head is in his hands. “I cannot believe you just said that. You do know the mob is all about respect, right?”
“Yeah, Ford. And Luca knows I respect him enough to joke around with him. He’s a good man.”
Ford swallows hard. “Yeah. A good man who has an escort service and tests out the goods to ensure they’re ‘quality.’”
I turn to him, amused. “You do know he’s making sure they’re okay, right? Like, sometimes people come to him, and they’ve been so badly treated they don’t realize they can say no.”
“Yeah, like anyone’s going say no to Luca Stefano.”
I snort under my breath. “Uh, you said no to Luca Stefano, and you’re still here.”
“No, I didn’t. I just haven’t said yes to him.”
I want to ask if there’s an unspoken yet somewhere in there, but the elevator doors open before I get a chance. Ford slips into the foyer, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. Eh. I decide to let it go for now.
“What's this look?” Rand says, coming up to me with a hug.
I don't know when we became the kind of friends who hug, but I think it was sometime around when Rand fell in love with Joe.
“Ask me after a glass or two of wine,” I say, directing us into the living room and closer to said wine. “Also…is this a tan? Like, the sun actually hitting your face tan?”
He grins, a blush showing up on his cheeks. “Joe hated that he had to go into the office, so we spent this morning out by the pool.”
I narrow my eyes. “Did you traumatize the local pigeon population again?”
He shrugs, biting his lower lip. “Maybe.”
“I didn't think you'd ever want to do that again, considering what happened.”
He and Joe took advantage of the private terrace early in their relationship, only to find that a stealth drone took video of them. Funnily enough, the only screengrab to make it to the newspapers was so swoony and delicious that it brought people to their side. When Rand and Joe came out to their company, everybody—well, almost everybody—was supportive.
Rand grimaces. “It's possible Luca made a little bit of an example of the guy my father hired to do it.”
“Example as in he’s sleeping with the fishes, or…”
Rand shakes his head. “Nothing quite so violent. He held compromising pictures against a local councilman until the councilman wisely decided to sponsor an ordinance against that kind of digital stalking.”
“Wasn’t there already an ordinance?” Ford asks, hooking his headsets up to Rand’s Wi-Fi.
Rand grins. “Yeah, but now there's a hundred-thousand-dollar fine to go with it.”
I whistle. “Damn. Hope you use some of your power for good.”
Rand's face goes serious. “Of course I do. You’ve seen all of the—”
I hold up my hand. “Of course you do. I was just… Fuck, my mouth is getting me in trouble all over the place.”
“You? You’re a sweet guy. How is your mouth getting you in trouble? Also, it’s nice to see you’re consistent in your love of that ugly jacket.”