Chapter 44: Chapter 44

C H A P T E R - N I N E T E E N

I sat down in Falcone's worn-out chair and peered over his vast den.

I had just returned from my exploration. However, after he had left, I had poured a cup of coffee and investigated the only area I knew to be truly his. I did not go so far as to check through his desk and bedroom drawers.

I examined his bookcases by going below the platform in the bedroom.

He had several CDs, so it was obvious that he enjoyed music. His tastes were quite varied. Rock 'n' roll from the past, primarily from the 1970s. No hair bands, just genuine heavy metal.

Jazz from earlier times, not the saxophone-heavy contemporary kind, was wonderful. Nice blues with Robert Johnson and Billie Holiday. R&B, some rap, and even some classical music are included in this playlist.

In other words, there was too much of everything and nothing to get a hold on.

I proceeded to the books, but despite their abundance, they didn't provide any further information. He didn't unwind with a gripping mystery or thrilling thriller. Even though I was a book editor, the majority of the books were about subjects I had no idea were topics for books. books on hand-to-hand fighting, military tactics, and martial arts doctrine. Generals in battle biographies. Battles in history books. not another. Not even a small book of poetry might have given me any understanding.

I then cuddled up in his chair and peered around his room while thinking about what I already knew about the bed platform and his office. Also, I received nothing from this. With Falcone, you got exactly what you saw. His life was constrained, planned, and managed. It lacked any individuality. He had a close-knit family that loved him, including siblings and nephews, but there were no pictures. No photo albums. No frames of ribbons were obtained for military achievements. There are no DVDs that display the types of movies that he enjoys. There was nothing in the way of his taste in wall art. His furnishings and fixtures were certainly upscale and pricey, but they were also substantial, strong, and long-lasting. Although they were lovely, they served a practical purpose.

all but this nook. such a seat. such a desk. such a light. It didn't fit, but it also didn't convey anything to me, yet I somehow felt it expressed everything.

The only thing I kind of understood was that, if what he said before he left and even what he said about when he first saw me meant what I believed it did, I must have meant something to him before I entered Grind.

Daily reports.

Even in a remote, bizarrely strict, emotionally restrained way, you didn't require daily reports on someone you didn't care about in some way.

I moaned. I then came to a conclusion. I then came out from behind myself and climbed the stairs to fetch my phone. I then went to the kitchen, got a new mug of coffee, and went back to Falcone's chair. I sipped the coffee, set it down on the table, and sat down in Falcone's chair.

I opened my phone and began to scroll. I then blinked.

I then felt sick to my stomach and my heart grew before I quietly grinned at my phone.

Four listings were pre-programmed into my phone by Falcone. One just said "Falcone," which I took to be his cell. Underneath that was "Falcone Base," "Falcone Base Secret," and "Falcone Home," which I thought to be his private, direct connection to the office.

Evidently Falcone wanted me to be able to get in touch with him if I needed to.

I went down to "Falcone Home" and pushed go for shits and giggles. A few seconds later, the phones upstairs, on one of the end tables in the seating area, in the kitchen, and on his desk all rang.

I smiled once again and pressed the red button. Then I scrolled up to Falcone and clicked the go button.

It rang twice before being answered with an eager yet snarky, "Falcone's phone, you got Ramona." "Speak to me."

I didn't say anything to her since I was surprised that she answered the phone.

"Don't have all day," she said.

"Um... sorry, I was phoning Falcone," I blundered.

There was quiet in response.

Then there was a high-pitched, "Gia?"

"Uh... well, um... is Falcone-"

“Girl!" She interrupted me. "How are you? " she inquired, as though we'd not only met but also manicured each other. She'd packed my things for me, so she presumably believed she knew who I was.

"Uh... alright," I said.

"That's great to hear," she said. "What happened to you occurred to me, basket case. Without a question. Then then, I had Falcone rounding up the lads to launch an all-out rescue mission on a motorcycle camp to save my ass.

"That certainly give me a sense of security," I agreed.

“Modicum!" She hooted as though it were amusing. Then again, it may be. Falcone and his commandos supplied far more than just a measure of security.

"Um... thanks for packing my luggage," I said.

"Thank you, girl! Sorting through your crap was like visiting female Candy Land. "You have thirteen tiny black outfits," she said.

"I understand," I said.

"They're all red hot and scorchin'. I've seen you on camera a lot, girl, and I assumed it was because of your ass, or maybe your hair, but now I know it's because of those tiny black dresses," she explained.

I murmured, "Unh-hunh."

"Anyway, what do you require?" she inquired.

"Is Falcone present?" I inquired again.

"Negative," she said. "He's in the middle of something, can't answer calls, therefore they were transferred to me."

Hmm. This did not sound promising.

"Could you leave a message for him to call me?"

"Sure, but you can tell me anything you want, and I have the authority to handle it" Boys are busy, but I know you're isolated at the Falcone Hangout and need anything, so let me know and I'll locate someone who can help."

"That's lovely, but I was wondering if it was acceptable if I invited my girlfriends over."

"When do you want us to show up?"

Us?

“Um…”

"I leave at five o'clock and may get there at five twenty," she said.

"Well... the issue is, I'm erm..." I came to a halt since she'd gone out to buy shoes for me and then to my place to pack. She did a good job with the latter, making sure I had everything I needed. Even if she was paid to do it, it was a good thing to do. She clearly wanted to befriend me, and I didn't want to offend her.

"What is the problem?" she inquired.

Oh, no. Nothing can be done.

"The point is, I want to invite my girlfriends over to discuss Falcone."

"I know Falcone," she explained.

"Of course, but he's your employer."

"Sho' 'nuff, girl, you're going to need me there."

"I do?”

"Hon, Janine may be in charge of organizing his life, but who do you suppose gives her her food orders and sends her out to buy cargo pants?" Me. If you want the inside scoop on Falcone, there's no one better to call."

"Wouldn't that be impolite?" I inquired, and I heard her hoot (again).

"Yeah, but who cares?" she said before continuing. "Pay attention, Gia. I've been with Yago Cabrera for seven years. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven when I walked my ass into this establishment to apply for the job. There are hot guys everywhere. That's a lot of nice ass, dammit! I wouldn't have worked here for free. These youngsters were a pain in my ass thirty minutes into the first day. Sorting out their trash is like herdin' cats. Fortunately, eye candy brings professional fulfillment; if it didn't, I'd have gone to the supply cupboard and wailed on some commando ass long ago. Falcone then shows in a couple of days later and instructs me to go to Nordstrom's. Nordstrom’s! I didn't inquire, I simply took the business card and dragged my a$$ out of here. That stuff was all over me. You think I won't do all in my power to ensure that my tasks involve occasional excursions to the mall? You're incorrect."

Oh boy.

"Perhaps you won't be able to be neutral during the conversation," I speculated.

"You can bet your a$$ I won't be objective," she acknowledged before continuing. I'll meet you at 5:00 p.m., what do you drink?" ”

"Um... cosmos?"

"I'm all over it," she said, then instructed, "Call your girls and see you later."

Then she offered me silence.

Hmm. I wasn't sure how that went. What I knew for sure was that Ramona would be there at five twenty.

I phoned Mic and Antonette and discovered that they could both make a five twenty come to an agreement over Yago "Falcone" Cabrera. I gave them instructions to the lair and informed them about the Ramona addition before sipping more coffee.