The cake vendor laughed; large rolls of belly fat attesting to the tastiness of the cakes, no doubt, rolled. “So, let me show you...”
The soup had been removed. Had he even tasted it? He couldn’t even remember now. His eyes were on the line of cakes approaching the table. The very long line of cakes.
“More water, sir?” Frank asked.
“What the hell?” Dani turned to him, “I know you’ve only got the one job, but can you calm it down for a moment? No one can drink that much water!”
“Of course, miss,” Frank said with an obsequious bow. It was strange to watch; Frank was the guy rookies prayed they didn’t get as a training partner. He was tough and mean and short-tempered. Now he was meek and cloying, a low-level servant paid just enough to remain poor.
“It’s okay,” Luke said, “but I really...” It occurred to him why Frank had been plying him with water. “I... uh... need to go...” He looked up and saw that Benny had turned around and was paying attention to the conversation and not the glossy images of impossible cakes being shown in a PowerPoint presentation on the screen opposite the table.
“It’s okay,” Luke said again, and patted Dani’s hand. He tried to put a ‘wait here’ signal in that hand pat, but had no idea how to accomplish such a clandestine idea and stood. Benny signaled one of the guards, who walked with him.
“I really am better at this all alone,” Luke protested.
“Just to keep you safe,” Benny said. “Not to go in with you. Unless, of course, he has to piss, too.”
Luke stood and looked at Frank.
“Restrooms are in the hallway to the left, sir,” he said. Luke nodded, and indicated the guard should go first. The man actually took a step before he caught himself, and then glowered at him. Luke wore the first genuine smile he’d had in long as he headed for the restroom.
As he left he heard Dani cussing her father under her breath. Looking over his shoulder, he saw her talking urgently to Benny, who only shook his head sadly, but said nothing at all.
The guard walked into the men’s room and gave a half-hearted look around. Lazily he pushed at the first stall door and looked inside.
“Going to hold it for me while I take a leak?” Luke asked, standing at the sink with his arms crossed.
The man glowered at him, but Luke just waited him out. If there was going to be a wedding, there needed to be a groom. That meant there was precious little the man could do to him. After a long, slow look around the room, at two more stall doors that swung half-open, the guard left. Presumably to take up a position just outside the door.
Okay, so, where is he? Luke looked around at what he expected was a meeting place, otherwise Frank wouldn’t have been so adamant about leading him here. The three empty stalls mocked him. If there was a note hidden somewhere in the room, it could wait. Luke’s bladder was in agony. He stepped to the urinal and unzipped his pants.
As the stream began, he felt a hand wrap around his mouth. The barrel of a gun pressed to his temple. Luke jerked violently and tried to speak, but the hand muffled his words. Slowly, his assailant let off the pressure on his mouth.
“I said, I’m a little underdressed; maybe you can wait a moment?”
Randy shuffled into view, his gun still trained on Luke. The door to the supply closet hung open, still padlocked. Nice touch.
“Good to see you again. Excuse me for not shaking hands, I’m a little...” Luke looked down. “...busy.”
Randy circled the room, gun at the ready. He was jumpy. For good reason. Half the Atlanta mob was in the ballroom. “Do you know how many protocols I’ve broken to be here?”
“Like not interrupting a man while he’s pissing? That’s a hard limit, Randy.”
Randy scowled, lowering the gun slightly as he turned toward Luke. “So was all this for the girl? Or was there money involved?” Each word was bitten off angrily, his dark eyes full of bitterness.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” The slow burn of anger began creeping up. He finished what he was doing, while mentally counting to ten. There was nothing quite so demeaning as confronting another man while holding your Johnson. He zipped and turned to his former friend. “All what, Randy? Hmm? All what?” He turned and walked to the sink and lathered his hands, deliberately putting his back to the gun. Letting Randy know he wasn’t about to be bullied.
“You were assigned to infiltrate, not to move in and become Benny Bianchi’s little nephew.”
Luke spun on him, hands spraying water as he turned. At the last minute, he remembered the guard at the door and spoke softly, though he wanted to scream. “Where the hell were you, Randy? Huh? I’ve been held prisoner for days now and I get nothing from you! Where the hell were you?”
“Prisoner? In a multimillion-dollar mansion with a beautiful blonde? How could I not see the way you suffered? I hope it doesn’t interfere with your wedding plans!” Randy’s tone was mocking, his eyes hard.
Luke reached over to rip a towel from the dispenser, but it was electronic and dutifully dispensed only a proportioned towel. At least he had the satisfaction of ripping it off, as shallow as that accomplishment was. “He thinks he can get Edwin back here if he marries off Dani. Like that weasel will give himself up just to walk his little girl down the aisle.”
“So, why you?”
“Because I was handy!” Luke snarled, throwing his hands up in the air. “How the hell should I know? Besides, if I went missing, No. One. Would. Come. Looking. Would they, Randy?”
Randy ignored him, moving back and forth restlessly. “Where’s the stick?” Randy’s eyes never left the door. They were running out of time. He was worried about the guard, Luke realized. With good reason.
That didn’t mean that he had to play hardball with him. Luke crossed his arms and leaned against the sink.
“Don’t look at me like that. The memory stick you had, where is it?”
“I don’t have it.” Luke didn’t so much as move. “I tried to give it to you once.”
“That’s when I thought we could get out of this clean, but you really took a shit in the punch bowl, you know?”
“You always did have a way with words, you know that? Get. Me. The. Hell. Out. Of. Here.”
Randy checked the door again, his eyes moving as restlessly as an addict looking for a fix. “I’ll work on it.”
Luke’s eyebrow rose. “You’ll ‘work on it’? Seriously? I need out now!”
“I can’t now. But while I work on it, I need you to do something for me.”
“Really? You want I should go out and get you a pizza?” Luke shook his head and started for the door.
“I want that USB stick.”
“I told you, I don’t have it.”
“Get it. And get me a list of the guests to your ‘wedding’.”