think no one would mention his bright pink button-down under the black blazer that was his new standard. Most of the guys preferred white or black dress shirts, including Andino although he rarely wore anything but silk. That Lev seriously doubted the man ever had to wash because he had been sent on a dry cleaner’s trip twice since he started working for the Capo.
“Shut up. Don’t say a word.” When Petey opened his mouth, Lev pointed a single finger in the man’s face as one more warning when he said, “Not a single fucking one.”
“But—”
“Fuck off, Petey, or you’ll eat my fucking fist after we’re done here.”
That shut the guy up.
Thankfully.
Lev liked to follow through on his threats, after all. He found that was the best motivator to ensure everybody knew where he stood when he made the next one.
Not surprisingly, Petey didn’t follow Lev into the private dining section of the restaurant where Andino liked to hold his business meetings. Not that Lev knew what was happening—or if it was a business meeting today—because he’d simply been told to show up, and Andino rarely offered any information about his dealings. All that information, Lev learned by keeping silent and listening while he worked.
Nonetheless, Petey headed for the front of the business where he would likely wait for ... whatever. Or whoever. It’s what Andino liked for him to do.
Lev, on the other hand, went into where his boss waited. Andino didn’t even bother to glance up at his arrival, more interested in the cute brunette currently pouring what looked to be whiskey into a lowball glass.
“Less ice next time,” Andino told the girl.
“Sure,” she replied with a smile.
She headed out of the section and gave Lev a nod on her way by that he returned in kind. While some of the people he had to work with being a man of Andino’s constantly got on his nerves, the more normal ones weren’t so bad.
“New girl?” he asked Andino when the chick was gone.
“Moved her over from another restaurant—people liked her there, and she didn’t shy away from my attitude. All good things, yeah? She was wasting her time over there when she can make far more in this place, and it’s a better fit. Studying ... something. Anyway, she needs the money. I figured what did it hurt?”
Huh.
As much as Andino seemed like an asshole to most—and he was, let’s be real—there was also a side of the man that ... was considerate of those around him. He didn’t show it in truly obvious ways, but when someone paid attention to what was beyond the cold, gruff exterior, they could find the softer soul of a man who did have a heart that cared.
Sometimes.
“Is the vehicle I provided for you to use to travel not suitable, or ...?” Andino peered up from the open folder on the table to meet Lev’s gaze, unbothered and chilled. “Because you’re very close to being late today and that would have promised you didn’t get another call to work, Lev.”
“The Jeep works just fine. Thank you, again.”
Really.
It was another investment, as Andino called it. The Jeep Wrangler had to set the guy back several tens of thousands of dollars, all of which Lev was expected to repay at some unknown time, and he hadn’t known what to say when the keys were handed over. Andino quickly fixed that by telling him to say thank you and nothing fucking more. Especially not no.
So, he didn’t.
Andino smirked and gave a little shake of his head. “See, you think you’re being smart by avoiding my unspoken question, but I’m not stupid, am I?”
Lev sighed. “No, boss. Just ... traffic. Other shit. I’m here—won’t be late ever, you have my word.”
A noise of consideration echoed from across the room but otherwise, Andino offered nothing else. That was until he took another look at Lev.
“Is your shirt ... pink?”
Fucking hell.
Lev held in his irritation. “Yep.”
“Why?”
“Laundry error.”
“That’s unfortunate,” Andino said in a chuckle.
“Tell me about it.”
His boss didn’t have the opportunity to say more on the shirt topic because footsteps approached from behind followed by a loud, “Andino! Your uncle always knows how to make a trip to New York worth it when I get to do my business with you.”
Lev didn’t even bother to glance over his shoulder before he stepped aside to let the approaching men pass him by without any issue on his part. Really, he tried not to be a bother at all when Andino did business—simply a presence people understood was always there. Either because they couldn’t look away once they did notice him, or because he was impressionable in size and one tended to notice those things.
Otherwise, he didn’t invite attention or conversation. Not by joining or pretending like he might or even that he wanted to be—people seemed to get the hint. Andino liked that just fine. So did Lev.
“DeLuca,” Andino replied, his tone as kind as Lev had ever heard it when he spoke to another human inside the walls of this restaurant. Or outside of it, for that matter.
Chicago.
DeLuca.
It sounded familiar to Lev as he sized up the guy who greeted Andino in the middle of the room. It wasn’t often he witnessed Andino actually stand and shake someone’s hand because he always seemed to like to let people know they weren’t even worth his time to get up and say hello. Not this man, though.
He stood up for him.
They offered hands at the same time to shake, too.
“And we both know,” Andino said, grinning, “the only reason I entertain your business is that you’re one of the very few people in Chicago that my father gives a fuck about, Theo. How’s the wife?”
“Beautiful.”
“Good to hear it.”
“Speaking of Gio, how is he?” the man asked Andino. “Been a while since I sat down for dinner with him.”
“Sends his regards to his old friend but he’s busy with my mother this weekend, so we won’t be seeing him while you’re here.”
“Shame.” Then, the man named Theo turned a bit on his heels to face Lev standing against the wall. While he hadn’t moved to acknowledge the newcomer or the two men who followed him into the room and took posts at both sides, not interfering with his position at all, the man from Chicago clearly took note of him. “And this is—he’s new, isn’t he?”
“He is,” Andino said.
“You have a name?” Theo asked Lev.
“He has a job to do,” Andino replied before Lev could say anything. “And we have business to discuss, right?”
Theo gave Lev a second look, as though he were giving him the chance to deny Andino and tell him his name. He didn’t. Instead, he stared the man in the eye and shrugged, offering no words at all.
If the man who signed his check said he didn’t have a name to give, then he didn’t have a fucking name. Simple as that.
“Next time, Mr. ...” Theo trailed off, giving him another look though his gaze lingered on the pop of color under his blazer. He gave a grin and a light laugh, “Mr. Pink—yeah, that’ll work for now. Next time, though, you’ll have to tell me your name.”
Lev couldn’t help but give a sigh. Mostly because laughter echoed around the room. He even heard Petey’s muffled laughter from outside the space. Some days, these guys could be real pricks. He had to admit, though ...
He kind of respected it.
Pretty typical.
Another day at work.
Even if now, typical meant everything had changed.
• • •
Want more Lev and Gigi (and little Arely, too!)? Before is a free preview of the first part of BK’s upcoming standalone mafia romance, Pink. Finish the love story between the mob enforcer and his supermodel today – GRAB YOURS NOW, releasing May 8th, 2020.
• • •
He’s Pink, the personal enforcer for the boss of the New York mafia. She’s Gigi Rey, a supermodel known across the globe.
They live two entirely different lives but before the mob and the fame, they were Lev Arsov and Gigi Parker. Two people struggling to make it—who met by chance—before life got in the way.
Five years have passed since the nights they shared together, but Fashion Week brings Gigi back to New York and straight into Lev’s path once more, when her work obligations tangles with the mafia’s business. In this world, that’s never a good thing.
They aren’t the same people now. He’s a single dad doing whatever he can for his daughter. Gigi can’t walk down the street without the world watching. A lot has changed. The one thing that didn’t? How they keep finding their way into each other’s heads ... and beds.
If only it was that simple.
If only the tabloids didn’t back them into a wall.
If only they saw it coming.
If only they could go back to the time before he was ... Pink.
If only.
• • •