sorry it took me so long to post this and that it's so short, i'm just been really busy at uni and haven't had the chance to write a lot. The next chapter is written but i want to work on it abit more before posting it, i know i can make it even better. Enjoy :)
Tony spent the rest of the day bored out of his mind in meetings. It was hard to look interested when you didn't know what was going on. Back at NCIS he would have already bugged Ziva by throwing paper planes at her then snapped elastic bands at McGee until Gibbs entered the room. His father had periodically observed Tony and only occasionally glared which Tony took as improvement.
They rode back in another uncomfortable silence and entered the house in silence. Their coats were handed off to one of the maids and Tony watched as his father turn stiffly towards him.
"Well," He began, looking Tony up and down. "You didn't completely embarrass me today. You're welcome to come back tomorrow."
Tony planted a fake smile on his face "That's great" He answered through gritted teeth. "I look forward to it"
Anthony nodded "Dinner's at eight" He spoke before abruptly leaving. Tony's shoulders sank, relishing the rare opportunity of an empty hallway and no-one to impress. He sighed loudly, not hearing the front door open and close.
"Whoo are yoo?" A breathy voice demanded. Tony pivoted round and came face to face with a woman in her forties or early fifties. A large pink hat sat on her head of perfectly coiffed curls and the fur coat looked like it cost more than a years salary. She placed her perfectly manicured hands on her thin waist and raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow.
"Who are you?," Tony countered with a wry smile.
"I aasked first young man," A maid interrupted the stand off to take the woman's coat.
"I'm Tony."
"Well Tony," The woman began as she stepped up to him "What is a haandsome thing like yoo doing in my house?"
Tony shivered, not liking the attention he was being given. "You're house?" He questioned.
"Do I stutter," She asked as she trailed a nail down Tony's chest.
"Lila?" The woman's hand pulled away instantly as if she'd been burnt. Tony turned to see his father re-entering the room.
"Anthony," She greeted with a smile, hoping she hadn't been caught.
"You're home early," He noted.
"It was too cold," She answered with a wave of her hand and a slight shrug.
"It was Aspen," Tony suppressed the urge to laugh. "I see you've met Anthony."
"Yes, new butler?" She asked.
"My son," Tony watched in amusement as the woman's jaw dropped. "Anthony, this is my wife Lila," Anthony finished the introductions.
Lila frowned "I thought yoo disowned him," She asked like a petulant child. With Anthony's son back in picture less money would be left to her. Anthony didn't correct her or force her to apologise.
"I was about to go upstairs for a lie down, would you care to join me?" Anthony asked his latest wife.
"Of course darling," Tony was nearly sickened by their soppiness. Lila and Anthony linked arms and walked slowly up the stairs. Tony cringed, trying to stop himself thinking about what they would be doing up there. He realised this would be the perfect time to search his father's office. Anything incriminating wouldn't be at his work office to his best bet was going through his home office. He checked the hallway for maids and when it was clear he slipped into the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. He scanned the room instantly. The large room was nearly as big as his office at work. One wall was completely bookshelves, filled with everything from the complete works of Shakespeare to Business at the Speed of Thought: Succeeding in the Digital Economy by Bill Gates. Tony raised an eyebrow, maybe if he read something like that he would be able to understand what his father talked about. He pulled it off the bookshelf and flicked through it, quickly getting lost in long words.
"This thing needs a glossary" He said to himself with a shake of his head. He put the book back and carried on with his search. At the end of the room was a large desk complete with lamp, laptop and various files and papers. Behind the desk was a fireplace with a large portrait of Anthony DiNozzo Sr. hanging above. To the left was an antique grandfather's clock and to the right was an antique globe. The room was such a stereotypical study that Tony had to laugh. He sat down in the leather desk chair and began rifling through the papers on his desk. He jumped suddenly as his cell phone began to ring. He grabbed it from his pocket and answered it quickly to stop the noise attracting unwanted attention.
"What?" He greeted in a whisper.
"It's me DiNozzo," Tony relaxed as he heard his boss' voice.
"Brilliant timing boss," Tony replied sarcastically. "I'm in my dad's study," Tony tucked the phone between his shoulder and ear and used his free hands to carry on searching.
"Anything?"
"Well I don't think his new wife likes me."
"Focus DiNozzo," Gibbs growled.
"Right boss," He picked up a piece of paper and scanned it quickly. "There's not a lot, a timetable for shipments, nothing about weapons though, haven't had a chance to search the rest of the room yet."
"Keep at it DiNozzo, I'll ring again tomorrow," He hung up. Tony put the phone back in his pocket. The bottom two drawers of the desk were unlocked and Tony rifled through them thoroughly but found nothing interesting. The top drawer however was locked. He searched everywhere for a key but found nothing. Instead he picked out a couple of paper clips from a tray on top of the desk and straightened them out.
"Thanks Gibbs," He said to himself as he used his newly learnt lock picking skills to open the drawer. It took him longer than it would have taken Gibbs but eventually the locked clicked open. He smiled triumphantly as the drawer slid open and he instantly began to search through it. More papers written to confuse, a wad of foreign money, a pen knife. He picked up the papers and tucked them in his jacket pocket. He'd take them to get a proper look at them later, maybe even get them photocopied if there was anything good on them. He dug deeper into the drawer, Cuban cigars, a hip flask probably filled with expensive whiskey, a gun.
"What the hell are you doing in here?" His father demanded from the doorway.
