Chapter 6: The Coach

Through the diner window I could see the back booth.

Aaron was standing up, reaching for his coat.

If he came out that door, they'd look at his face. They'd remember it.

I got into the Escalade.

The laughing one shut the door behind me and slapped the roof twice.

Nobody spoke on the Verrazzano. The driver played sports radio and the other one cleaned his nails with a matchbook.

At the estate they walked me into the dining room.

Arianna sat at the head of the long table in a cream sweater.

The signet ring was on her finger and a laptop was open in front of her.

My deck was on the screen.

"Mirella!" She pulled out the chair beside her. "Silvio said you'd love to help. Isn't that sweet of you?"

Silvio leaned in the doorway with his arms crossed.

"Lessons until the board meets," he said. "She learns it, she presents it, she gets the seat. Then we talk about your savings."

"And if I say no?"

"Then I find another accountant to go through your books line by line." He smiled. "Somebody who doesn't love you like I do."

I thought about a stranger with a calculator opening my files.

Finding the one account that every transfer passed through.

I sat down.

Arianna clicked to slide four.

It was a bar chart of clean revenue against total revenue, year by year.

"Okay," she said brightly. "So what does this mean?"

"It means the restaurants make money on their own."

"Right. Obviously." She clicked to slide five. A balance sheet. She frowned at it for a long time.

"Why is the money on both sides?"

I looked at her.

She really didn't know.

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