Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Marlowe, Nico and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Kozik shook his head and rolled his eyes as he heard the clang-clanging of a wrench as it hit the very expensive engine of the Mack truck he had bought to T-M for service.
"Geez, Tig! What the fuck are you doin'?" Kozik finally exclaimed exasperated. Stepping up to the cab of the truck, he reached under the hood and grabbed the torque wrench out of Tig's hand. "I bought her in 'cause she was leakin' transmission fluid. Keep wailing on her like that and we're gonna have to rebuild the fuckin' engine!"
"Hey!" Tig pulled himself out from under the hood and jabbed at Kozik's kutte with grease-stained fingers. "Don't tell me how to do my job."
"Hey! Watch the leather, douchebag!" Kozik slapped his hand away.
"Then don't be grabbing shit outta my hand!" Tig snapped as he did just that and snatched the wrench back from Kozik.
"Then stop acting like a big ape, you moron!" Kozik argued.
Tig glared at his brother as he threw the wrench onto a worktable and started wiping his hands with the rag hanging from the belt of his work pants. "That's the thanks I get for tryin' to help you out, shit head? You call me names? If anyone's a knuckle-dragger around here, it's you."
"You know, you're right," Kozik replied half-heartedly. "You're too stupid to be an ape 'cause at least chimps know how to use fuckin' tools."
Tig threw his dirty rag at Kozik, hitting him in the face. "Okay, smart guy. You fix the damn truck then," he said stepping aside as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes from the front pocket of his T-M work shirt. "I know where the leak's comin' from, but let's see how long it takes you to find it."
"Fine!" Kozik declared. "If you want something done right, it's always better to do it yourself anyways," he said as he removed his kutte and hung it with great care on a hook on the opposite side of the bay. Striding back towards the truck as he rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt, Kozik heard Tig let out a high-pitched wolf whistle.
"Well, looky-looky here," Tig said lecherously, causing Kozik to sidestep the truck, ending up at his brother's side at the bay entrance. "Look whose perky ass has finally found her way back to the lot to take me up on my offer."
Kozik scoffed as he caught sight of the familiar powder blue Porsche as it roared its way into the parking lot. "If anything, she's here for me, asshole," he stated with a confidence that matched Tig's. "Not only is the broad smart, but she seemed relatively sane too, something that ain't in your wheelhouse, brother."
"What's in my wheelhouse is a foot long dick," Tig retorted as he grabbed a handful of his crotch, "which I know will work on her just fine." Turning away from Kozik, Tig sauntered his way across the lot.
"This is some shit I gotta see," Kozik muttered as he quickly followed Tig.
It had been several weeks since the Torelli siblings had blown their way in and out of Charming. Delivering the vig that Dominic Torelli owed the Sons seemed like a chore more in line for a grunt to handle. For that reason, Kozik found it somewhat strange that the undeniably sexier and more attractive Torelli sibling would drive more than four hours from Reno just to deliver it.
Maybe Tiggy's right and she's back looking to hook up with a biker, he surmised, but quickly revised his opinion as Nico exited her car.
"Nah, she ain't dressed for no damn booty call," Kozik muttered regretfully under his breath, cutting loose with a quiet whistle as he took her in.
Instead of a sexy figuring-hugging outfit of black leather, Nico Torelli was dressed in a red pantsuit and a white blouse with a cowl neckline made of what looked like silk to Kozik's untrained eye. Towering on six-inch black heels with red soles and swinging a leather handbag, the woman's glossy dark brown hair shimmered in the winter sun as it flowed in waves over the shoulders of an off-white, knee-length light wool coat.
Looks like she's all business today, Kozik thought to himself and sped up to catch Tig in order to stop him from saying something totally inappropriate.
Too fuckin' late!
Tig leaned a strong arm on the car top, stepping right into Nico's personal space, and eyed her up and down with a sexy smirk. "Hiya, doll face. If you're here to play domineering boss and submissive secretary, I just want you to know that I am all about that shit."
Kozik watched as Nico cocked her head back to eye his brother. "Uh, me as a submissive anything is so totally not my thing. Now, a dominatrix whipping her slave into a blubbering pool of sexual frenzy at her well-heeled feet," she grinned fiercely, "that's more up my alley."
"Fuck yeah, babe!" Tig simultaneously hooted and drooled. "I got a room in the Clubhouse, some chains, a few toys and plenty of lube too—" he started, only to be unceremoniously shoved to the side by Kozik.
"Jesus, asshole! Put the snake back in your pants. I don't think 'Uncle Jimmy' would appreciate you talkin' to his niece like that," Kozik chided and turned to offer Nico an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that. He don't get out much."
"I gathered as much," Nico said drolly.
Kozik grinned and couldn't keep himself from eyeing the attractive brunette up and down before airbrushing the arm of her coat. "Is that shit cashmere?" he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"Cashmere? What the fuck is cashmere?" Tig asked and Kozik watched as Nico bit her bottom lip in an attempt to keep from laughing out loud.
"It's a type of wool, asshole," Kozik replied. "Am I right?" he asked Nico.
"Yes, you are, on both counts," Nico said with a smile. "You are a very discerning man, Kozik."
"Hear that Tiggy? I'm discerning," he preened.
"What you are is a fuckwit," Tig retorted irritably. "Is there something you're not tellin' me, Kozy? Why would you know that shit? Keep on cock-blocking me and I'm gonna set your ass up with Juice."
"Fuck you, asshole!" Kozik challenged.
Nico coughed delicately into her hand in an attempt to get the bickering pair's attention. "I don't mean to interrupt," she lied, hoping to prevent a fist fight from breaking out right in front of her. "I'm here to see your Pres regarding some business. Is he around?"
"He's right behind you," Jax replied. Doing a 180, Nico turned to see the handsome blond ambling his way over to where she stood from the somewhere inside the garage.
And he's not alone.
Nico watched Jax Teller approach, once again flanked by his SAA on the right and his VP on the left. The three tall and well-built men made a visually powerful impact. Looking into Happy's mirrored sunglasses, feeling rather than actually knowing that his attention was riveted on her as she was unable to see his dark eyes, Nico felt the sudden pull of their mutual sexual attraction down to her core.
Down girl, this is not the time, she admonished herself.
She had made the special trip to Charming to deal with business slightly more important than her libido. Not by much, however. After all, it had been almost six months since the last time she had gotten laid, but important business nonetheless. Because of that, Nico forced herself to focus all of her attention and energy on the man that was the power base of the Sons of Anarchy.
"Jax," she said, holding a hand out and shaking his. "Thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice."
"It's my pleasure," Jax replied graciously. "As my brothers know, I will always make time for a woman, especially one as lovely as you."
"Well, I certainly hope that one day I'll get to meet the woman that raised such a gentleman," Nico smiled.
"Wait, hold on a sec," Tig interrupted. "You knew she was coming?" he asked Jax incredulously. Opening his T-M work shirt, Tig revealed a worn wife-beater t-shirt covered with fresh as well as old grease stains. "You coulda warned a brother, you know. I would have cleaned up."
"What the hell for?" Happy scoffed somewhat angrily. "Clean up all you want, ain't nothing you can do to fix that ugly mug of yours."
"Fuck you, Hap," Tig said with a massive eye roll.
"A'ight!" Jax interjected. "Put a sock in it you two," he ordered. "I got the important shit covered, Tigger. Nico, please, follow me."
Turning to follow the SAMCRO Pres, Nico offered Tig an apologetic smile over her shoulder, nearly face-planting into the SAA's muscled chest for her trouble. Taking a step back, Nico casually let her eyes rake over Happy's long lithe body before ending on his face.
Damn, he is looking too fine today, Nico smiled to herself as she stepped around him and continued following Jax.
With their last face-to-face meet brought to a frustrating and premature end, Nico entered the Clubhouse house with the intention of making that shit right sooner rather than later.
"So," Jax drawled. Placing a mug of hot coffee in front of Nico, he sat down in a chair opposite her and leaned back. "Something tells me you didn't drive that pretty little cage of yours all the way from Reno just to drop off the vig, hoping to score a shitty cup of Joe, darlin'."
"Well, not just," Nico replied. Picking up the mug, she took a delicate sip of its contents and was pleasantly surprised by the robust flavor. "And I wouldn't call this a shitty cup of coffee, but since you mentioned it," she put down the mug and, reaching into her handbag, pulled out a fat manila envelope and placed it in the middle of the table. "Let's get that bit of business out of the way, shall we?"
Nico watched as the VP picked up the offering, extracting a neat stack of crisp one hundred dollar bills bound together by a mustard-colored currency strap that read "$10,000". Letting out a low whistle as he fanned through the bills with a thick thumb, Opie looked Nico in the eyes. "There are five more just like it in here."
"I am aware, after all, I counted it myself," Nico stated, one leg crossed over the other at the knee and her hands resting casually in her lap. "Sixty grand was the number we agreed on for a vig paid a year in advance, was it not?" she asked Jax, who nodded his head once in agreement, his face otherwise betraying nothing.
"Hijacking other people's shit must pay a lot of bank," Opie said, dropping the stack of bills into the envelope before tossing it onto the table.
"If done by professionals, it can be quite lucrative," Nico replied, her chin up in the air, "and as I said before, my brother is the best."
"And what about you, Nico?" Jax spoke up. "We never really got around to discussing what kind of work it is you do for your father."
"Whatever it is, must be lucrative as well," Opie stated as he crossed his arms over his chest and eyed her somewhat suspiciously. "Judging by the designer power suit."
"That's right," Jax started with a smirk. "We usually don't see women dressed like you around here, unless it's my attorney."
Nico smiled sheepishly as she threw her hands up and shrugged her dainty shoulders. "You got me. I am in-house counsel for my father's conglomerate, which includes several hotels, casinos, restaurants, bars—"
"Among other things," Opie added sarcastically.
Nico nodded. "Yes, in addition to the hospitality business, the Syndicate—as its known—also dabbles in construction and waste management, among other things," she replied and watched as the SAMCRO Pres nodded slowly, seemingly unsurprised by the revelation of her position in her father's organization.
On the other hand, sitting back in his chair, Happy stared Nico up and down as he tried to hide his own surprise. From the moment he had met her, there had been no doubt in Happy's mind that Tiny was some sort of educated, hoity-toity high-class piece of ass. Never would he have guessed, however, that she was a shark in designer duds with organized crime connections.
A fuckin' mob lawyer!
Apparently, Happy wasn't the only one struggling to wrap his head around Nico's claim. "You? A mouthpiece for the mob?" Opie queried, his voice skeptical, and then he chuckled. "I don't buy it, mafia princess."
Nico cocked an eyebrow at Opie. "What's so hard to believe?"
"You mean, aside from the obvious?" Happy inserted.
"Meaning that I'm a woman?" Nico asked although she already knew the answer.
"Yeah, that and the fact that you're probably not old enough to be out of law school yet," Opie added.
"I'd consider that a compliment if it weren't so backhanded," Nico smirked.
"How old are you?" Jax asked curiously.
"How old are you?" Nico shot back.
"Thirty-three," he replied without hesitation.
"Well, let's just say I'm older than you and leave it at that." Nico smiled. "And I assure you," she directed at Opie, "I graduated law school quite some time ago and passed the bar on my first try. Any organization would be lucky to have me on its payroll," she boasted.
"And you're saying you're on the Syndicate's payroll?" Jax asked a little warily himself.
"Yes, I am," Nico stated emphatically. "Why is that so hard to believe?"
"Other than having the box set of The Sopranos, darlin', I know next to nothing about the hierarchy of a mob family," Jax explained. "So, pardon me for saying so, but generally speaking I was under the impression that there usually isn't a whole lot of female involvement in the 'family business', am I right?"
"You are absolutely right, but times are a'changin'," Nico replied. "I may not have the equipment required to enter a men's room and sling it around like the big boys, but that—along with my Master's in business and my law degree—works to my advantage. Over the years, I've acquired a skill set that both my father and my uncle not only admire, but are open-minded enough to utilize, allowing the Syndicate's legitimate holdings to flourish." She leaned back in her chair. "I gather that it's safe to assume that you've done your due diligence and ran a background check on us."
Jax nodded. "It's nothing personal, you understand. SAMCRO does have a long-standing business as well as personal relationship with Jimmy Cacuzza, but we're not at all familiar with the Torelli branch of the family tree, especially since it's based in Reno."
"No personal offence taken," Nico replied. "As a matter of fact, I expected no less from the Sons."
Jax sat up and put his elbows on the table. "As in-house counsel for the Syndicate, I bet you're up to your neck in the day-to-day aspects of the legitimate side of the business," he stated with interest and Nico nodded in agreement. "How deep are you involved in the not-so-legitimate side?"
"About waist-deep," Nico replied candidly. "When it comes to the other side of the family business, I'm what's considered a facilitator or a fixer. I basically put out fires by taking care of shit that requires absolute discretion and brains instead of muscle. I troubleshoot, not with a gun but by manipulating the law and I answer only to my father and now my uncle."
"Sounds like a big job for such a little girl," Opie opined, somewhat impressed.
"This time, I'll take that as a compliment in spite of its backhandedness," Nico retorted good-naturedly.
"Okay, so why bother telling us all this?" Happy asked irritably, his arms crossed over his chest. "Sounds like you're making a sales pitch, so it must be for a reason."
Nico smiled as she turned her sapphire blue eyes on him. "Because I know I can help the MC," she said with quiet confidence.
Jax eyed her gravely. "Help us in what way?" he asked suspiciously.
"Why, help the Club go completely legit, of course," Nico said sweetly. "After all, isn't that what you're trying to accomplish, Jax?"
Although the three men sitting before her seemed comfortably at ease, Nico had noted the subtle change in Jax's eyes and knew that her shot across the bow had scored a direct hit. She also knew she was taking a huge chance coming at the Sons with such an aggressive approach, but that was just her style when it came down to business. As a woman in a man's world, Nico had quickly learned that it was always best to come across like a tough bitch instead of soft and easily manipulated. Now, as she eyed these men who were openly eyeing her in return, Nico hoped she hadn't overplayed her hand by putting all of her cards on the table so soon.
"That's certainly an interesting, yet misinformed theory," Jax said calmly. "I hate to rain on your parade, Nico, but I have no idea what you're talking about."
Nico chuckled as she looked Jax right in the eye. "I know you know exactly what I'm talking about, Jax. Simply put, my theories are never misinformed. I gather Intel, analyze facts and determine every outcome statistically possible before forming a theory, and I'm right 95% of the time," she explained confidently. "I also learned the family business at my father's knee. He taught me how to read people and their behavior as well as how to interpret subtle changes in organizations that can predict shifting agendas and changes to long-term goals."
Opie scoffed. "And what makes you think you know shit about SAMCRO's agenda or long-term goals?"
"Sometimes," Nico started as she leaned forward and folded her hands on the table, "it's not what you know, but who you know and what they know that makes all the difference in the world. Working for my family has enabled me to establish an impressive roster of contacts. People and organizations with strong connections to the Syndicate, from low-level informants in the public and private sector to politicians and influential money makers across three states. These connections see and hear things that they are more than willing to pass along to me."
Jax let out a sigh as if to say he was growing bored with their conversation. "With all due respect, Nico, I'm still not understanding where you're going with this."
"Okay, we'll play it your way, Jax," Nico smiled. "For starters, while doing my research, I noted the recent change in the leadership of the Club which sent up a red flag."
Jax chuckled. "Really? A red flag?" he asked skeptically. "It's not unusual for the presidency to exchange hands in a motorcycle club, darlin'. After all, we are a democratic organization."
"No, it's not unusual," Nico agreed pleasantly. "An across-the-board change in leadership and officers, however, is an early indicator of major shifts on the horizon, especially when that change is referred to by some as a 'coup'."
"Hearsay," Jax stated emphatically, "but don't let that stop you. Go on, please."
"I know that prior to you and the majority of your Club ending up in Stockton Prison on federal gun charges, SAMCRO suffered some huge losses and major setbacks, including a fire that caused the complete destruction of Cara Cara Studios. By the way," Nico stated, suddenly slipping into the role of advisor. "It's not too late to file a claim for the insurance on the studio. From what I understand, your insurance company was right to deny your claim based on the word of your sole eyewitness, a convicted felon. As a matter of fact, I took the liberty of having several independent experts review the Fire Marshall's report, including photographs and other evidence, and they all disagreed with the eye witness' statement that the fire was caused by arson."
Jax looked from Happy to Opie before all three laughed, knowing for a fact that Chucky had seen A.J. Weston and his crew of white supremacist skin heads deliberately set the fire that had destroyed Cara Cara. "So what caused the fire, according to these experts?" Jax asked sardonically.
"The faulty wiring in your heating unit," Nico advised with a knowing smile. "And I have their written reports and sworn affidavits attesting to this fact, everything you could possibly need in order to re-file your claim successfully. If you'd like, I can have my office overnight those documents to your present counsel," she offered helpfully.
Jax laughed softly as he shook his head. "And how much will all this cost us?"
"I did the work pro bono, Jax, so it's free of charge," Nico replied sincerely. "Just a show of good-faith effort so you and your officers know what I'm capable of."
A successful claim meant the Club would be in line to receive several hundred thousand dollars in insurance money. If Nico Torelli was capable of pulling that off with her so-called connections and by greasing the right palms, that would indeed be quite impressive, a fact Jax was unwilling to cop to. At least not yet, anyway.
Shrugging his shoulders as if he couldn't be made to care one way or another, Jax said, "Why not? Send them over to our lawyers and we'll have them re-file the claim, see what happens. I should have their business card around here somewhere."
"Won't be necessary," Nico waved him away politely. "I'm quite familiar with the firm you have on retainer, Rosen Lowen & Associates. Once we're done here, I'll text my assistant and have her send the docs over ASAP."
"So if you know the Club has a pair of sharks on speed dial," Happy started, "why the dog and pony show?"
"Because while Scott Rosen and Ally Lowen are quite good," Nico started and smiled, "I'm better. First of all, I know you weren't just protecting that cargo my brother attempted to take down. You were transporting it as well because SAMCRO is Unser Trucking," she revealed. "Rosen and Lowen did an excellent job in laundering the money used to purchase and revamp the business, but they were lousy in creating a paper trail. All it took were a few mouse clicks to unravel the scheme and reveal that the money was dirty, which can and will cause you huge headaches down the road if not fixed right away. Also, I understand they're having trouble clearing some roadblocks you've come across in trying to restart Cara Cara Productions in Stockton, roadblocks that don't exist for me."
Jax eyed her suspiciously. "How did you hear about that?"
"Charles Barosky," Nico replied without hesitation. "Smart move, by the way, aligning yourselves with the Lord of the Docks. And don't worry, he would never spill those beans to anyone but me. Good old Charlie and my family go way back to his days with Stockton PD. He owes us a few favors," she smiled serenely.
As the silence stretched uncomfortably amongst the group, Jax's stare directed at Nico was hard but unreadable. It was clear to Nico that she had gotten the wheels turning in his mind as he considered all she had said so far. It was Happy, however, who felt compelled to challenge her further.
"You keep talkin' like you know some shit," he retorted. "So what if SAMCRO's looking to take on some legit businesses. It ain't a crime and it don't have shit to do with our other business."
Nico shook her head. "But it is a crime if you're using unlaundered profits from gun-running to buy into legitimate businesses. That's Organized Crime 101," she chided, not-so-gently. "You may have managed to evade the ATF for twenty-plus years, but Uncle Sam always expects his cut and getting nabbed on tax evasion is a rookie mistake that's easily avoidable."
Nico watched as Jax eyed both his officers once again, noting their unspoken communication. Apparently, it seemed she had finally struck a chord with the SAMCRO President.
Focusing intense blue eyes on her, Jax started, "Let's say, for shits and giggles, that the plan is to steer Club business into a more legit direction and that I choose to believe you're as good as you say you are, what are your services gonna cost us?" he asked sardonically. "Because I can't believe that your offer to help has anything to do with making up for your brother's fuck up."
"Oh, no. The vig Dom paid takes care of that. The terms of my 'employment' would be quid pro quo—you do for me, I do for you," Nico explained with a smirk. "For instance, for the next six months, I will work exclusively with the Sons to legitimize the Club while waiving my hourly fee. I will, however, require a sizeable retainer for expenses—"
"Expenses?!" the frugal miser in Happy blurted out. "What kind of expenses, mani-pedis and spa treatments?"
Nico narrowed her eyes at him dangerously. "More along the lines of pay-offs, bribes, and kick-backs. I may work for free, but my connections certainly don't."
"But you wouldn't be working for free," Jax noted. "Remember, quid pro quo? What is it that you want us to do for you?"
All three men waited and watched as Nico moistened her lips and formed them into a hard line. "I need SAMCRO to eliminate a traitor from the Torelli ranks."
Well, shit, Tiny is just plain fuckin' nuts, Happy thought as silence filled the room after she had made her bold statement.
The SAA wasn't completely taken by surprise, however. After hearing her break down the information she had probably worked hard to accumulate on the Club, it was obvious that she had been leading up to something. On the other hand, what he hadn't bargained for was a contract hit and, apparently, neither had Jax.
"You're asking us to kill someone for you?" Jax asked perplexed and watched as Nico gave him a sharp nod. "You work for the fuckin' mob. Ain't that shit more up your alley than it is ours?"
"It's complicated," she said briefly.
"Then you're just gonna have to un-complicate shit for us 'cause Jax is right," Happy said gruffly. "Stringing people up with piano wire is a mob specialty. Why not just handle it yourselves?"
"If only it were that simple, I wouldn't be here," Nico said and sighed a little before running her fingers through her hair. "It's a delicate situation that I'm taking a huge risk in bringing to you, but I need SAMCRO to make a serious threat to my family go away quickly, quietly and permanently, with no blowback whatsoever. If this falls on me, it falls on my family and I can't have that," she eyed Jax resolutely, "but I was told that I could count on the Club's discretion, so I need to hear you say it before I can continue."
"Out of respect for your Uncle Jimmy, yeah," Jax stated. "You can trust me and my officers to keep shit confidential, but I can't promise that we'll take you up on your offer."
"Good enough," she replied and took another sip of coffee before speaking. "My father is currently serving three-to-five in Ely State Penitentiary, a medium security facility in Nevada," she started. Noting the sardonic expression that flitted across the SAA's face, Nico pursed her lips. "Something funny about that?" she asked slightly irritated.
"Yeah, a little," Happy goaded. "Not much of a hot shit attorney are ya if daddy's serving time, huh?" He grinned in satisfaction as a battle light entered into her eyes.
"I am an excellent corporate attorney," she retorted sternly. "The family's criminal counsel, my second cousin, should have gone into the priesthood instead like his mother had wanted him to. He made several procedural errors that landed my father in prison. Needless to say, he's no longer my father's counsel or practicing law, for that matter."
"Something tells me he ain't practicing much of anything these days," Opie muttered under his breath, causing Happy to chuckle.
Ignoring them, Nico addressed Jax. "My father was recently diagnosed with liver cancer and his new counsel is actively working to get him out on a compassionate release." Nico's lips tightened. "Meanwhile, as he's languishing in prison without proper medical care, an attempt was made on his life. He's in protective custody now, but he just barely survived the attack and is still struggling to recover. I'm sure you know what that's like," she said soberly as she eyed Jax.
"Yeah, I do," Jax replied just as soberly. "I'm sorry to hear that about your father. Is he gonna be all right?"
"The cancer is killing him but obviously not quick enough for the piece of shit that wants him dead now, so no, I don't think he's going to be all right," Nico replied. "Not unless we get him out of there for the treatment he needs and eliminate the internal threat that wants him dead."
"Did I miss something?" Opie asked. "Why are you so sure the order for the hit on your father came from within your ranks?"
"Convicts with a lot of time on their hands see and hear a lot. The warden, a family friend, caught wind of talk regarding a hostile takeover of the Syndicate involving a number of high-ranking members. Although others are involved, several unrelated sources led us to one man in particular and Jimmy was able to confirm it," Nico explained. "We could get rid of him today if we wanted to, but that would mean risking an internal war. That's why the Torelli and Cacuzza branches of the Syndicate need total deniability. It can't look like a mob hit or the others involved will spook."
"That's a big risk you're asking us to take for quid pro quo," Jax stated.
"Did I forget to mention the $250K contract fee?" Nico smirked as the three officers could do very little to hide their surprise. "Just know that I need to be there to question him before he dies and that there can't be any damage done to his face."
Nico waited as the SAMCRO Pres eyed her silently before he spoke. "Give us some time to think things over, including taking you up on your offer to help with our 'hypothetical' business situation." He held out a hand across the table. "Deal?"
Nico felt the tension in her ease just the tiniest bit. Extending her hand, she took his in a firm grip. "Deal."
Releasing his hand, Nico stood up and casually tossed on her coat. "I'm staying at the Hilton in Stockton before I head back to Reno in the morning." She pulled a gold-embossed business card from her pocket and handed it Jax. "That's my personal cell, completely clean and untraceable. Give me a call when you come to a decision and thanks for hearing me out." Reaching around, she offered a hand to Opie who shook it firmly before she turned and offered her hand to Happy, her belly tightening as his large hand engulfed hers.
Telling her inner whore to keep her thong on, Nico focused on the "Unholy One" and "Men of Mayhem" patches on his kutte. "I take it those decorations are for services to the Club that include more than just a wink and a smile," she said easily as she looked into his dark eyes.
"I do whatever's necessary," he replied.
"Yeah, that tattoo around your neck pretty much speaks for itself," she murmured. Jax and Opie exchanged a perplexed look as Happy was wearing a collared shirt, no tats—except for the ink on his bald head—visible.
Realizing that she was still holding onto his hand, Nico reluctantly let it go, hoping that the slight flush she felt all over her body had not stained her cheeks as well. The smirks exchanged by the Pres and his VP indicated otherwise, however.
Shit!
Feeling emboldened by the heated look in Happy's eyes, in spite of blushing like a teenage girl, Nico turned to focus on Jax. "If the Club decides to help us out," she cocked her head in Happy's direction, "please consider having him do the job. I have a good feeling about him."
All things considered, Nico thought lazily as she used the plush soapy sponge to trail water up and down her leg, things went well with the Sons.
Leaning her head against the bath pillow behind her neck, Nico sighed as the hot steamy water penetrated her bones. It had been a long and taxing day and the extremely girly-side of her nature needed some pampering, which she decided included a long soak in the oversized marble tub to help her unwind.
Following her meeting with the Sons, Nico had spent the rest of the day at the Torelli Construction Supply Company's warehouse located in Stockton's industrial area. It was one of three highly profitable construction-based businesses the Torellis owned as part of the legitimate arm of the Syndicate. Handling legal issues related to the construction and hospitality industries was just a small part of her daily duties, which included quarterly reviews of financial statements, writing contracts and endorsements as well as sitting in for her father as Acting Chair at Board meetings. Nico loved the work, but it was something she could practically do in her sleep and after dealing with the Sons, it had nearly bored her to tears.
Overall, she had walked away from her meeting with Jax Teller and his officers quite pleased and thoroughly optimistic. Her extensive research into the MC had served her well. Although there had been a number of startling discoveries she had made which she had seen no need to mention—such as the kidnapping and subsequent rescue of his infant son—Nico knew she had been right to approach the SAMCRO Pres on an entirely business level. A college degree may make a man smart, but not necessarily savvy. Jax Teller was both—book smart and street wise. Now, all she had to do was wait him out because she was convinced that he was going to take her up on her offer.
Upon her return to the hotel, Nico had called her uncle to give him a progress report as to how everything had played out. Sighing as she flipped on the jets of the whirlpool tub, she played over their conversation in her mind.
"So what do you think, Cara?" Jimmy asked. "I may be an old street hood, but I'm still on my game. I have a good feeling about Jackson and the Club has been very good to the family—our family for many years."
"You were right, Zio," Nico agreed. "As a matter of fact, I felt enough confidence in Jax Teller and his leadership of the Club that I told him why we needed the hit." She was met by eerie silence on the other end of the line.
"Nico, do you really think that was wise?" Jimmy questioned in a hushed tone.
"Whether it was wise remains to be seen, but I think it was necessary," Nico retorted. "Jax doesn't seem the type to ask 'how high' when someone says 'jump' just because they're waving a few 100K in his face. I can tell he takes his responsibility as the leader of his Club to heart and I think it's a good sign that he feels the need to analyze the situation thoroughly first. Frankly, I wouldn't have trusted him as the right man for the job had he accepted right away."
"Yeah, of course you're right," Jimmy conceded with a chuckle. "Most of my dealings with SAMCRO have been through his stepfather, but I know Clay Morrow. He doesn't suffer fools lightly and neither do you. I trust your judgment on this, Cara."
"The easy part's over, Zio," Nico replied tiredly. "After all is said and done, the hard part will be getting Dom to focus on the family business."
Jimmy sighed heavily. "Nicoletta, you know I love Dominic Vincenzo as if he were my own son, but I have yet to see him do one thing that convinces me he's serious about taking over for your father," he said irritably. "Gianni built an empire for him and all he wants to do is race cars. With all the hard work you put into the business, you should have been born a man, Nico. Your father could have left it all to you and with my blessing too!"
"Zio, please! Whatever you do, don't let Ma hear you say shit like that. She's already convinced that I have aspirations of being 'Lady Boss' some day," Nico chastised her uncle lightly.
"And so what?" Jimmy retorted. "It's that old school Italian way of thinking that can be bad for business. Instead of installing someone who'd rather being doing something else, why not hand the reins over to someone with a head for the business?"
"And ovaries?" Nico laughed. "I don't see that happening in my lifetime, Zio. Besides, Dom can and will learn the business. We just have to give him some time to adjust and learn," she defended her little brother.
"Time is a luxury Gianni may not have much left to give him, Cara," Jimmy said ominously. "Your father worked his fingers to the bone getting this family where it is today. If I had half what Gianni has to leave to a son, I'd be pissed off royally if he turned his back on it."
"It's too bad you never married."
"Eh, I was busy having too much fun. Still am, too. Besides, I have my nieces and nephew to spoil rotten. My sister did good pumping you kids out for Gianni."
"Why did you have to go and mention Ma?" she asked irritably. "We were having such a nice conversation."
"Oy, you brought her up first!" Jimmy laughed. "When are you and your ma gonna stop butting heads, huh?"
"Just as soon as she stops butting into my life," Nico quickly replied.
"Rosie's an old-school Italian mother, Nico, so that shit ain't gonna happen," Jimmy started. "She just wants for her girls what she has with Gianni, love, security and family."
"I have all that, Uncle Jimmy," Nico argued lightly. "Why can't she just be happy that I'm happy?"
"Are you, though?" her uncle pressed.
Nico's eyes rolled to the back of her head. "Not you too, Zio!"
"Hey, hey, just hear me out," Jimmy replied. "I'm not saying go out there and find yourself a nice Italian boy to settle down with. Far from it, sweetheart. You and me, we're a lot alike. We have a passion for what we do for a living, am I right?"
Nico let out a sigh. "Yes, you are."
"And I'm the last person in the world trying to sell ya on this marriage deal, 'kay? That's Rosie's shtick, not mine," Jimmy insisted. "But all work and no play, Nico, and you're gonna end up burning out before your time. Listen to your Uncle Jimmy on this. A little distraction of the opposite sex variety goes a long way," he advised and Nico burst out laughing. "What's so funny? I'm being serious here."
Nico coughed in an effort to control her laughter. "I know you are, Zio. I'm sorry," she apologized. "No need to worry, however. I have plenty to keep me distracted in that regard."
Nico could hear Jimmy chuckle on the other end of the line. "Good for you. I don't need the deets, but I'm glad to hear that, Cara. Your father kinda sent me on a fishing expedition 'cause he worries about you," he admitted. "Your happiness means the world to him, you know this."
"I do," Nico replied. "And his well-being means the world to me. He needs to stop worrying about others and concentrate on getting better."
"Yeah, good luck tryin' to convince him of that shit," Jimmy said. "He also wanted me to box your ears for not visiting lately."
Nico pinched the bridge of her nose. "He knows if I could I'd visit every day, but until this situation has been dealt with, it's best if I keep my visits to a minimum."
"Yeah, he knows you're watching out for him. He just misses seeing his mini-me. He's proud of you and how you're handling this turncoat situation for him."
"Don't let him declare victory just yet, Zio," Nico cautioned. "We're not any closer to a resolution than we were yesterday."
"That's where you're wrong, sweetheart," Jimmy responded. "You reached out and set things in motion with the Sons. They'll come through for us, they always have, and when they do, we'll put this shit to bed quickly and quietly."
Pulling the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket next to the tub, Nico filled the delicate crystal flute to the brim with the icy wine and took several indulgent gulps. As much as she was sure her uncle believed he was paying her a compliment, Nico was still chafed by the general mentality shared by the boys' club that was the Syndicate that she was somehow inferior because of her gender. They considered it "cute" that she liked to play at being a "career gal". While many teased her light-heartedly, others had no issue with blatantly telling her to cut that shit out and start having more babies before she got too old, as if her worthiness were tied to her ovaries. If only they knew that the only thing "tied" were her ovaries, a procedure she had secretly done when her then-husband thought she was spending a week in a spa.
Despite that stupid mentality, Nico managed to do quite a lot for the Syndicate, thanks in large part to her father. Gianni Torelli was and would always be her greatest, albeit secret cheerleader. He had always been the one to pick her up and dust her off when her male cousins played too rough, whispering his encouragement to go out there and kick their asses. He had recognized her mind for business early on and had supported her desire to finish college even when her mother and then new-husband had been clamoring for her to have a baby.
Gianni "Brooklyn Johnny T" Torelli was the one man in her life—aside from her own son—Nico knew without a doubt loved her unconditionally. He had been her hero from the day she had taken her first toddling steps towards his outstretched arms. In Nico's mind, she would always remember her father as a giant of a man. Standing at 6'4, he was larger than life and robust in both height and personality. As a family man, he was gregarious and generous by nature and loved by everyone. As Boss of the Torelli family, he could be ruthlessly cold. Feared by many, the pragmatic Don would not hesitate to slit anyone who ever crossed him from balls to throat.
Now, recalling the last time she had visited her father, Nico wiped several errant tears from her eyes. The cancer had dealt a serious blow to his overall health as it was. The shiv attack and his prolonged recovery had left him even more frail and unable to bounce back from his chemo treatments. He was dying right before her very eyes and Nico had resolved to make the one responsible for his deteriorating health pay the price with his own life.
Realizing that dwelling on past and present difficulties would only serve to sabotage the combined effect of the bath and wine, Nico dismissed the troubling thoughts. Allowing her mind to drift free and unfettered as her eyes gradually grew heavy, she had just decided to let herself doze for a while in the hot and bubbly water when a loud chiming suddenly echoed in the room. Groaning, Nico cracked one eye open and looked at the intercom on the wall above her head. The Hilton's penthouse suite offered much in the way of comfortable accommodations and luxury, which was why she always stayed there. The one thing they did not offer, however, was someone to answer the door for her.
"Who can it be?" Nico moaned with irritation as she had already eaten dinner.
With a wet hand, she pressed the intercom's "talk" button. "Yes, who is it?" she queried as she waited for a response.
"Open the door, Tiny," a gravelly voice demanded.
"Well, shit," she murmured as she felt her naked and wet flesh break out into goosebumps, including her breasts—that is, if you could count her nipples hardening as goosebumps. "Seems as if someone picked up on the hint I dropped."
Pressing down on the "talk" button once again, Nico replied, "Hold onto your boxers, killer. I'll be there in a minute."
"Can't do that," he replied (and she could just hear the smirk on his sexy face), "I'm not wearing any."
Nico snorted with laughter before clicking off. Turning off the tub's whirlpool, she stood up as water streamed from her body. Grabbing a plush towel, Nico exited into her bedroom as she hurriedly dried herself off while simultaneously looking for her robe.
"I guess I won't be watching 'Little Fockers' on pay-per-view after all," she quipped as slipped on a long black silk robe and headed for the door.
Yay, me!
A/N: I want to thank everyone for all the reviews and adds I received for the last chapter. The feedback is very much appreciated, so please keep the reviews coming. I'm interested in hearing your thoughts on what you think the deal is with "Tiny".
Hugs, Harlee.