“What? No,” I say, incredulous. “You all went on the tour of the casino, and Elsa walked in. She’s hard to miss. I saw a beautiful woman, we had a few at the bar—which you can damn well see on some other security tape—and then we decided to go upstairstogether.”
Caterina’s nostrils flare. “And then she happens to be the due diligence lead.”
“Yes,” I say. “She happens to be the due diligence lead. That’s the truth.”
Roberto points at the screen, at Elsa’s laughing face. “And what does she think? Theethicalvoice of the acquisition? Doesshebelieve it was a play?
“She did,” I say, but raise my voice over Roberto’s as he curses hotly again. “But not anymore. I fixed it.”
“She was awfully cold at the meeting a couple of weeks ago,” Caterina says. “Are you sure you fixed it?”
“Yes,” I say, remembering that Elsa was anything but cold after that meeting. “After. You set it up so I would take her on the tour, remember?”
She narrows her eyes. “Did you sleep with her again?”
“What? No,” I say, offended. But I definitely would have if she’d wanted to. “I told you. I fixed it. We talked. That’s all.”
And kissed. A lot.
“And if I had, it would be none of your business.”
Roberto’s stare cuts through me.
“It became our business the second it touched the family,” he says, voice like ice. “So don’t get defensive.”
Caterina leans forward, elbows on her desk, eyes narrowed. “You’re saying she’s not going to tank the deal over conflict. That she’s… what, over it?”
“I’m saying she knows I didn’t target her,” I bite out. “She knows I didn’t know who she was.”
Roberto’s laugh is sharp, humorless. “That’s not the same thing as her not blowing our deal out of spite. Again, Antonio, theethicalvoice, something she takes seriously, if I understand her correctly.”
I open my mouth, then shut it. Because he’s right. Because “fixed” could very well be a wound that’s still bleeding.
Caterina’s gaze flicks to the paused frame on the screen—Elsa’s head tipped back, laughing—then back to me.
She looks at Roberto and gets the nod.
I furrow my brows and sit up straight again at the exchange. “What is it?”
She picks up the remote again and presses another button. Elsa’s face disappears, and another image fills the space.
Outdoors. Nowhere in Atlantic City that I recognize. In fact, the building in the background makes me think of New York.
As I’m about to ask what’s going on, Elsa comes into view on the screen, her long legs eating up the sidewalk. A doorman in the building opens the door for her, and she smiles, steps in, and disappears from view.
“What is this?” I ask.
“Just watch,” Roberto says.
A minute or so later, two men walk into view. My gut clenches instinctively. My muscles tense, like I’m preparing for a fight.
I don’t even know who they are.
I recognize what they’re doing, though. Because I’ve done the same on too many occasions to count.
One checks his watch. The other scans the street without moving his head, eyes sliding over the glass doors. Watching angles, cameras, the doorman.
They don’t stop in front of Elsa’s apartment building but just walk on by.