“If we have more friends in the political elite, it might protect us from attack,” I said.
“And it could be good for business too, lucrative contracts, legalization of certain forms of gambling,” Papa mused.
Dante nodded. “Indeed. I want to make the Outfit ready for the future, and I think our way needs to be to blend in even better, to appear as sheep and hide the wolf within.”
“I’m going to start testing the waters. I’m playing golf with Clark senior tomorrow. Maybe he can have a word with his son.”
“His wife is from Italian descent?”
Papa nodded. “They vacation in Italy every year. They have a mansion at the shores of Lake Como.”
“It’ll take some convincing. Many of my more old-fashioned men won’t like this new direction I’m taking,” Dante said.
I smiled, feeling a new sense of hope. “You’ll convince them.”
PART TWO
Dante
I’d never seen the appeal of playing golf. If I wanted to hit a target, I shot my gun, if I wanted to exert myself, I chose a sport that actually got my heart rate up, and if I wanted to engage in business negotiations, I preferred to sit down and talk without any distractions.
Yet, I found myself on a golf course in early Spring with Maximo Clark, Giovanni and the old Clark Senior. We engaged in meaningless chitchat for a while, as was habit in those circles, even if I wanted to cut to the chase. I had more important things to do.
The Clark family have been important players in the political game for decades. They were political royalty. Clark Senior, who had been Senator before his son, had a penchant for our underground casinos and the complimentary girls. His son, the current Senator, was a harder nut to crack. Even if his first name was Italian, thanks to his mother, he was wary of intensifying contacts with the Outfit.
“You want to become Governor?”
Maximo Clark leaned on his golf club, a hint of suspicion on his face. He was a born politician, a turncoat and opportunist. I didn’t trust him and he didn’t trust me. “I do, indeed.”
“Your chances are good,” Clark senior said. “We only need the right campaign to give you a push.”
“Good campaigns are expensive,” Maximo said.
“They are indeed,” Giovanni agreed.
I hated beating about the bush, all these veiled hints. Stifling my annoyance, I gave a tight smile. “Money isn’t an issue.”
Maximo smiled, all sharp teeth and condescension. “It can become an issue if it derives from the wrong sources.”
“It’s a matter of interpretation what’s determined a wrong source,” I said. “We have close connections to the gun lobby. They are one of your main sponsors if I’m not mistaken, and some people might argue that their money is blood money too.” I flashed my teeth at him, done playing nice.
His smile became tenser. “I assume you’re hoping for favorable legislation, for influence and the occasional amnesty?”
“That, and involvement. We want to become part of the public eye, of your social circles. We need the light.”
“Some things are better left in the dark,” Maximo said.
“Indeed.” I narrowed my eyes. Maybe he didn’t visit our establishments, but his father and brother did. It would be bad press for him if word got out. No matter how white his vest, his family’s dirt would stick to it.
He was well-acquainted with veiled threats.
“In the long term, we’d like to have one of ours in senate to really solidify our connections.”
Maximo raised his brows. “Yourself?”
I smiled. My name and face were too well known, too closely linked to less savory endeavors. “No. Dario Fabbri is a good option. He’s one of the most capable lawyers in Chicago as you certainly know.”
Maximo’s eyes remained carefully blank. “I’ll have to think about it.”
“Do that,” I said, then glanced at my watch. “I’ll have to head out now. You enjoy yourself.” I nodded at Giovanni and Clark Senior before I gave Maximo another hard smile.
* * *
The moment I stepped into the lobby of our home, Val strode toward me, curiosity reflecting on her beautiful face. She looked stunning in a tight pencil skirt and silk blouse tugged into the narrow waistband.
I kissed her. “You look gorgeous.”
Val smiled woefully, turning around so I could see that the top of the skirt’s zipper was open. “This is the last time I get to wear it for a while. It’s just too tight. Even stretch can only go so far.”
I gently placed my palm against her bump, still marveling at this miracle. I hadn’t expected another baby. We’d been trying for so long, but then it happened like a sign from above in the worst period of our life: a glimmer of hope. Our miracle baby.
“How are you?”
Val covered my hand with hers. “We’re both good. She’s moving more every day.”
“Only four more months.”
“Enough of me, tell me how it went?”
My mood dropped.
“That bad?”
“Not bad, but Maximo Clark is a snake. He plays hard to get.”
“He needs our money if he wants to fund his campaigns.”
“Our funds will make things easier. He might be good without them as well however.”
Val pursed her lips. “Can’t you put pressure on him?”
I laughed. “Blackmail is always a good option, but it might be a bad start to our cooperation and he doesn’t have any skeletons in his cupboard. Blackmailing him with his father’s or brother’s nightly activities might hurt his reputation or it might make him look like the noble king.”
“Everyone’s got skeletons in their cupboard,” Val murmured. “And I’ve met his wife a couple of times. She’s out for the glitz, the glamor. She talks about the British Royal family nonstop. She dreams about being royalty herself, about being part of a society other people only talk about. She’s fascinated by our traditions, our weddings. For her, this is like one of her historical romances come true.”
“I gather your lunch with her went well?”
Val’s expression became wicked. “It did. Of course, I told her everything she wanted to hear. She was absolutely enamored by our arranged marriages. She thinks it’s just utterly romantic, like something straight out of a Shakespeare play.” Val imitated the woman’s enthusiastic lilt.
“Romantic. That’s a new take on it,” I said as we headed into my office. We settled on my sofa, my arm around Val’s shoulders.
“From what I gathered, her marriage to Maximo leaves quite a bit to be desired.”
I perked up. “Does he have an affair?”
“She didn’t mention anything. She isn’t that airheaded. She knows how to keep up a perfect public front.”
I stroked Val’s knee that the slit in her skirt had revealed. “Shame.”
Val’s expression became thoughtful. “Her words made me think though.” She hesitated then shook her head. “Maybe my brain’s muddled by pregnancy hormones.”
I twisted around to her fully. “What is it?”