Chapter 14: The Doctor's Eyes

On Wednesday my uncle's doctor came to the house in Bay Ridge with a leather bag and his reading glasses on a cord.

He had been my doctor since I was nineteen.

He was also the man who had told me, twice, to give it time.

"Antonia," he said, and kissed my cheek. "Your uncle tells me congratulations are in order."

"Maybe."

"Let's find out. A little blood, and I'll have a number by tomorrow night."

Carmine stood in the den doorway with his arms folded, looking pleased.

A number by Thursday night was a number before the Table, and it would say I was lying.

"Not yet," I said.

My uncle's smile slipped a quarter inch.

"Sweetheart."

"If it's done here, in private, Vincent will say you fixed it. He'll say anything."

I looked at the doctor.

"Do it Friday, at the Table, in front of every boss. Then nobody can say a word."

Carmine's eyes went from me to the doctor and back.

I watched him weigh it.

If five men heard from a doctor that a Strozzi heir was coming, the vote was half won before anyone sat down.

"She's right," he said. "Friday. Noon, at the club."

The doctor set his bag on the coffee table and did not open it.

"While you're here," I said, "I'd like to ask you something."

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