It was about justice and seeing justice done. And people getting what they deserved. Maybe Marco would understand.
Just maybe.
Chapter 6
“Hey, Boss, we got someone from the Planning Department who says he wants to see you,” Rhea said as she opened the glass door to Marco’s office.
Marco hoped it was good news, since he usually had to chase down officials when he needed signoffs on projects. Him coming over to the Trident office was going to save him a boatload of time.
A handsome man with a Hollywood smile entered. He was about forty, trim, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. His smile disturbed Marco. He could smell a shark a mile away. It wasn’t just the cologne, the pinky ring, and the custom-tailored suit that set off alarms; it was the icy cold smile trying to disguise itself as “friendly.” The man had the tenacity and deliberate movements of a well-trained serial killer. Nails buffed, shoes polished, no wrinkles or creases out of place on his white shirt under the shiny navy-blue suit.
And then his voice cinched it.
“Sorry to come barging in here, Mr. Gambini,” he said in a slightly Eastern European accent, but Marco wasn’t sure.
Marco extended his hand for the shake, which also confirmed his suspicions since the man nearly liberated Marco from his fingers until Marco twisted his wrist at an awkward angle, as if examining the expensive watch at the base of the man’s hand, which caused a slight crack in one of the little bones and caused the man some pain. Marco was sure of that.
“I’m a great admirer of a man who wears the finest watches, Mr.—”
“Sivic. This is Theopolis Sivic.” Rhea stared down at the card and frowned but continued, “Independent Regional Planning Director.”
“Ah, private contractor. You are not a county employee then?”
“No, I have more authority,” Sivic said coolly as he withdrew his hand and tried not to show the pain he was experiencing.
Marco knew he’d won round one, but a wounded bear was always twice as dangerous.
The gentleman straightened his spine, pressed his shoulders back, and shook his arms to allow the fine fabric of his suit to readjust unwrinkled. He pulled on his cuffs, one at a time, as if he was trimming fat on a good steak, inhaled, and stared back at Marco.
Challenge accepted, asshole.
Marco counted five for his box breathing and let the gentleman make the first move. He’d be ready.
“I have been retained by the City of Belleair Beach on behalf of her citizens.”
Yeah, I’ll bet you’re careful with the ladies. You’re still an asshole.
“I’ve been asked to look into the allegations that certain liberties have been taken with the change in plans for your Trident Towers project—contracts that involved local workers that will not now be honored in favor of construction crews from out of the area. Your approval and contract with the city states—”
“Excuse me, how do you know what my contract and development agreement states? That information is supposed to be confidential.”
“Ah, yes, but that doesn’t apply in the case of fraud or misuse of public funds. You’ve been given a density bonus, allowing you to build an additional twenty-three units added on your latest plan. But it’s a conditional approval. It provides for the provision that you do your best to hire local contractors—”
“They are local. You’re mistaken.”
“But we have it—”
“I don’t care where you have it or how you carry it. You’re simply wrong.”
“Would you please demonstrate to me why?”
“I don’t have to. This doesn’t concern me, and you’ve illegally obtained copies of my development plan. I don’t even know if this card,” Marco tossed it on the desk, “is legitimate.”
“I see. So you are going to make this a fight.” His eyes searched Marco’s dangerously. The man was not only slimy and cunning, but he was also mean. Marco saw one telltale scar on the bridge of his nose, which looked like an injury not quite repaired seamlessly. His blue orbs begged for a physical confrontation. They twinkled, almost iridescent, anxious for action.
“I have no reason to fight you. I have no reason to pay any attention to you. Get out of my office immediately, or I’ll do my cop buddies a favor and toss you out myself.”
Rhea was no stranger to yelling and anger, but her eyes were wide, her mouth dropping to her chest as she looked between the two men both itching to prove themselves. Behind her, a room full of Marco’s team had stopped whatever they were doing mid-motion and looked equally disturbed.
Marco wanted to smile at her to give her some confidence but didn’t want to take his eyes off Mr. Sivic. But he saw the room out of the corner of his eye and noticed the lack of motion, the phones going unanswered, as if some God had stopped all time in its tracks while he and Sivic were still breathing.
Sivic was going to speak when something happened Marco did not expect. Rebecca sauntered in through the office, looking right and left with casual distain at workers who, if they knew her, hated every cell in her body. She wore a bright orange ruffled dress knee-high, with little multicolored abstract shapes dotting all over the fabric, as it swayed easily with the movement of her hips. Her very long legs were fully exposed to her mid-thigh when she stepped forward due to a large slit on either side of the front panel. Her fingernails and toes were orange this time and matched her new hair color: Lucille Ball red.
She slipped her lithe body next to Sivic’s, delicately pushed her arm through the crook of his right elbow, and leaned into him so Marco could see Sivic’s upper arm remained buried in her breasts. She even gave a little shameless moan.
How in the world could I have ever latched on to this vampire? What was I thinking? Oh yes, I wasn’t thinking. I was looking for intensity, something to obliterate the pain.
She was repulsive to him, and he didn’t mind showing it.
“I’ve been waiting to talk to you again. Have you not gotten my messages?” she asked, coyly, turning, nearly engulfing Sivic’s hand in her crotch. Marco enjoyed the little parade because he finally saw Sivic’s breaking point, that twitch in his left eye and the pulsing vein in his forehead. He was uncomfortable with the display.
Marco pulled his eyes off the struggling Sivic, who was now suddenly less bold in the presence of the emasculator, Rebecca the Terrible. He nodded to Rhea.
“We’re fine here. Let’s bring in an extra chair, and we’ll have our meeting in my office.” He sat, looked up at the two standing before him, and asked, “Would anyone like coffee, tea, or some wine?” He blinked a couple of times to keep himself from stifling a giggle, even though he knew he was going to be handed a pile of shit.
“I-I’ll have coffee,” said Sivic. “Just black, please.” He turned to Rhea, whose eyes expanded nearly to her ears.
“Thanks, Rhea. Rebecca?” Marco craned his neck up.
“I like pink champagne. Sophia, was it that? Our anniversary champagne.” She smiled, but it was cut short by Marco’s comment.
“Sorry, I don’t remember any of that. But I think we might have some. Right, Rhea?”
“I think so, Boss. You want some Sparkle?”