I’m assuming that’s where Isaac met her since he doesn’t do anything when we’re at home except hang out with the kids next to the television set or in the garage.
Chapter Sixteen
Isaac
Istep into Callum Murray’s office since he’s the only one of the brothers that I can contact on such short notice. He has a pleasant demeanor and the radio is tuned to a baseball game, which is pretty old-fashioned. He turns the knob all the way down once I walk in with Gabby and gestures to our leather, professional seats.
“Are we talking about business appropriate for women today?” Callum asks me, almost ignoring Gabby’s presence. I forgot that mobsters could have a tendency towards traditional attitudes. Bikers have always appreciated a little bit of anarchy, but mobsters delight in hierarchy and feel strong convictions that their families only survive because of adherence to tradition.
Gabby looks to me for direction, which I’m sure she only does because of how physically terrifying Callum Murray is. He’s around six-foot-eight, and muscular in a way that looks like he abuses the fuck out of steroids. I’ve learned since moving out here that it’s all fueled by expensive wagyu steaks.
“None of our business suits women. She’s a friend. We can trust her.”
Callum’s examination of Gabby lingers.
“I would prefer if she sat outside.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I don’t know her and neither do you.”
“I met her at the bar.”
“For all we know, she could be working with the federal government, immigration, or the cops.”
“I’m not a cop, thank you very much. I’m more like an ACAB type…”
I don’t know what that means, but I glare at Gabby so that she pipes down. The less she says here, the better. I’m not letting her wait outside the office.
“I’ll send her down with a security guard.”
“Excuse me if I don’t trust a strange man with Gabby’s life.”
Callum grins. “I said I would send a guard. I didn’t say I would send a man.”
He lifts his old school black phone off the hook and presses the number 3. I don’t hear who picks up, but within a few minutes, a black woman appears in the doorway.
“This is my sister-in-law, Onika,” Callum says. “She’s interning for the company this summer while attending Harvard Law. Onika, this is Gabby.”
Gabby and Onika introduce themselves to each other andI feel as if now, she would willingly go outside and out of my sight.
“Take Gabby across the street for a pastry,” Callum says. “I need to talk to Mr. Sinclair.”
“No problem, Mr. Murray.”
“Onika will take good care of her,” Callum says. “I’m assuming Ethan doesn’t know that you’re down here?”
“Correct.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Callum says. “But will you discuss the contents of this meeting with him? I don’t want to get in the middle of any turf wars.”
This is a matter of efficiency, not secrecy. I let Callum know as much.
“Absolutely.”
“Perfect. Onika?”
The girl takes Gabby out of the office and I feel the strangest pang of concern in my chest. I shouldn’t betray this much vulnerability in front of Callum. Our allegiances with the Boston Irish mob have lasted several years, but you never know when the tables might turn in the other direction given the times. Some people think the best way to get their freedom is to take away someone else’s.