Author's Note: Sorry this has taken longer than my ideal once a week update. I have had multiple end-of-the-school-year things going on with my university and various organizations and finals start this week. In addition, I lost my muse for a while and didn't want to post until I was at least a chapter ahead.
….
Chapter 7: Keep Your Friends Far Away and Your Enemies Closer
Breakfast and the subsequent ride into Queen Consolidated the following Monday are awkward affairs to say the least. Oliver has been giving Felicity the space he thinks she needs while still trying to maintain suitable interaction with her. He can't have her as part of his life in a romantic sense, but he still wants to keep the camaraderie and trust they have built up over the years he was away and since his return. It's selfish to keep her so close after realizing that her feelings for him might not be strictly platonic, but it's been a long time since he felt this open with anyone. That's not something he's willing to give up just yet.
They currently sit in the backseat of the town car, the silence around them screaming at him louder than any voice ever could. This is the first time that they've been together without anyone else around to deflect the tension. And there is definitely tension. It fills the empty space, pressing against them, an invisible pressure. He wants to say something, anything just so he can hear her voice. What that means regarding his feelings towards her he isn't sure, but he is sure that it's not something he wants to read into right now.
"I'm sorry."
Felicity's apology startles Oliver. He wasn't expecting her to break the silence and he definitely wasn't expecting her to break the silence with an apology.
"I… What?"
"I'm sorry. About the other night at the fundraiser. I had too much to drink and I overstepped my boundaries. I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable. It won't happen again."
Taking a second to process what she's saying, Oliver realizes that Felicity is taking what happened the other night completely onto her shoulders and making it solely her responsibility. She probably feels embarrassed by the whole ordeal. But if anyone should be embarrassed by his or her actions towards the other, it's him.
In addition, he can list more times than the number of fingers on his hands that he had done humiliating and shameful things in his youth. Peeing on a cop is one of the first that comes to mind. Felicity getting tipsy at a fundraiser and leaving early doesn't even hold a candle to his slipups.
"Felicity, I should have been more careful with how I acted around you. I realize now how you could have misinterpreted," or correctly interpreted, "some of my actions and that's my fault. Sometimes I forget that you're not actually family and that the openness we have isn't exactly typical. But I want to keep that, if you're okay with it that is. I don't want to lose you as a friend."
That sounds practiced and faulty even to his ears.
"No, of course. We're like family. It was just a small lapse in judgment. I used to have this silly little crush on you when we first met, must have been some of that speaking last night. It won't be a problem again."
This strangely feels like the part of a break-up where the two individuals try to remain friends but ultimately can't. Not that he's exactly experienced with those. Most of his youth was spent bouncing from one bed to the next. He'd had a few girlfriends here and there but it was usually he who did the breaking up and typically that didn't include much talking. In fact, his favorite tactic was to not talk to the girl at all. She usually got the hint after a week or so. Again, another part of Oliver's younger years that he wishes he could take back. None of those girls deserved the treatment they received from him.
"Ms. Smoak, Mr. Queen, we're here."
The driver politely informs them via an intercom built into the car. A divider remains standing between them, assuring their privacy. Oliver pushes on the button to reply with his thanks before turning to Felicity.
"Walk you in?"
He desperately needs to make sure that she won't try to shut him out despite having just been told that she won't.
"Sure, okay. Mr. Diggle is meeting us in the lobby, right?"
"Yes. He should be there now."
Oliver had sent his friend a text earlier this morning to confirm that he would meet them at Queen Consolidated. Even though Felicity had initially argued that the security in the building was enough, after reviewing the department both Oliver and Diggle had agreed that the extra set of eyes wouldn't hurt. She had huffed in annoyance at Oliver's persistence but left it at that.
Exiting the car, Oliver holds the door open and extends a hand to help Felicity out. She cautiously accepts it but her grip is loose in his and the second she's steady on her feet she ends the contact.
"So, what's on the agenda for you today?"
He just wants to keep her talking, to hear her endearing rambles and genuine thoughts.
"Probably more email resets and wiping computer hard drives for some exec that clicked on a bogus pop up add."
The exasperation in her voice makes him chuckle slightly.
"Does that happen a lot?"
"Daily. So don't go getting any ideas. Avoid pop ups at all cost and no porn sites. Not that you watch porn or that I would know if you did. That's totally up to you. I'm just saying it's one of the number one sources for viruses and harmful trojans. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about though."
There's his Felicity.
No. Not his Felicity, just the Felicity that everyone knows, the babbling blonde with the genius IQ. She is in no way his. Even if part of him wishes otherwise. Even if part of him knows that part of her, however big or small, wants that too.
"What about you? Anything exciting going on during your first full week as a businessman, Mr. Queen?"
"I have a meeting with a potential investor lined up in an hour."
He doesn't mention that said potential investor is Frank Bertinelli, rumored mob boss of the Italian organized crime group that might be responsible for the attempt on Felicity's life.
A screeching of tires in the near distance causes Oliver to divert his gaze from the blonde at his side. A motorcycle cuts around the corner of the QC building, veering up onto the sidewalk.
The next moments occur in slow motion for Oliver. Felicity must have asked him something because he can see her steps halt as she turns to look at him out of the corner of his eye. He doesn't pay too much attention to this because his attention has zeroed in on the motorcyclist as the man reaches down to pull a small black object from his side. A gun.
"GET DOWN!"
Diggle's shout registers in the back of his mind right as the shot rings out. Oliver dives for Felicity, knocking her to the ground and covering her body with his, but not before he hears her cry of pain. The accelerator on the vehicle revs and roars as it speeds away and just like that it's over within seconds.
"Digg! Get a visual on the license plate!"
The sound of pounding feet on pavement fades, replaced with worried shouts around them and pained, heavy breathing beneath him. Oliver yells for someone to call 911 before focusing his attention on Felicity.
"Felicity! Felicity, are you okay?"
"My shoulder."
Her eyes are screwed shut in pain and her right hand clutches at her upper left arm.
"Let me see."
Gently, Oliver shifts off of her and maneuvers Felicity into a semi sitting position, doing his best to ignore the small whimpers of pain she's emitting, trying to remain clinical.
"I'm going to need to take your cardigan off to get a better look. I'll try to move your shoulder as little as possible but it's still going to hurt."
Felicity grunts in acknowledgement before squeezing her eyes tighter together in preparation for his actions. First he slides her uninjured arm from the sweater. That's the easy part. As he begins to peel the other sleeve off Felicity bites hard at her bottom lip to prevent herself from screaming. It doesn't prevent her from crying out completely though and she bites down harder, drawing blood. It causes Oliver to wince. He hates being the one to cause her more pain, but it has to be done.
When her cardigan is removed and Oliver can get a clear visual of the wound, he sighs in relief. It's a through and through and the bleeding is minimal, meaning no significant veins or arteries have been damaged. She will be okay once the wound has been stitched up and she's given prescription painkillers. He balls up her sweater and presses it overtop her injury, his force firm but gentle as to lessen the pain and stanch the flow of blood.
"The bullet didn't hit anything vital. You should be okay with a few stitches and some prescription painkillers once the paramedics get here."
"Stitches? As in needle and thread in my skin? I think I'm going to be sick."
As if to prove her point, Felicity lists to the side and Oliver catches on to her good arm to steady her. A disoriented look crosses her face and it takes her longer than it should to focus back on him.
"Felicity? Felicity, look at me. Did you hit your head?"
Her response is delayed and comes out sluggishly, slightly garbled.
"I think so. It hurts and everything is kind of spinny."
Felicity's eyes flutter shut for longer than normal before she opens them again. Then her body falls forward into Oliver's, crashing into his chest.
"Whoa, who tilted the Earth and can you please put it back upright?"
"Okay, I need you to do something for me. I need you to keep your eyes open and stay awake until the paramedics arrive. Can you do that for me?"
"Mhmm, surrrrre."
Oliver holds Felicity to him, her head now resting on his shoulder, while they wait for the paramedics to arrive. He knows the bullet wound will need stitches and he is almost one hundred percent sure that she has a concussion from when he knocked her to the concrete. Guilt flows through him for causing the injury but the alternative would have been much, much worse.
"Oliver."
Diggle jogs to stand next to him, chest heaving in an effort to catch his breath.
"Did you get him?"
"No. The son of a bitch out maneuvered me."
Anger flows through him. Not at Digg, he knows catching a moving vehicle on foot is a difficult, near impossible feat. No, his anger is directed at the motorcyclist who shot at Felicity and the fact that this man has gotten away with it, at least for now.
The sound of sirens reaches his ears as an ambulance comes speeding down the street to stop in front of the Queen Consolidated building. Two paramedics jump out and quickly make their way over to where Oliver is sitting with Felicity in his arms. He stands to meet them as a stretcher is pulled over in their direction.
"What happened?"
"Bastard came around on a motorcycle and shot at her. She has a through in through in her left shoulder and more than likely a concussion from the fall when I knocked her out of the way."
Once the stretcher is set up, Oliver slides Felicity onto it, careful not to jostle her too much and cause more pain. One of the paramedics begins to check her over, taking vitals and examining the injury on her shoulder as well as prodding the back of her head. The other continues to talk with Oliver and then Diggle about the occurrence.
Once Felicity's on-site examination is through, the woman who checked her over informs Oliver that his assessment of her injuries was correct. They'll need to take her to the hospital, something he expected and was fully in support of, just to make sure she was okay and to keep her under observation for a few hours.
"I'm going with her."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Queen, but family only in the vehicle. She's not in critical condition and should be fine during the ride over."
"Someone just attempted to kill her. If you think I'm going to let her go alone then you've got another thing coming to you."
Oliver steps closer to the male EMT who spoke up, intimidating the man and causing him the shuffle backwards. There is no way Felicity is getting in that ambulance unprotected. If the attacker doubled back and something happened to the vehicle Oliver would never forgive himself. Diggle places a firm hand on his shoulder to restrain him before stepping up to calmly speak with the paramedic.
"Listen, I know it's standard protocol to limit passengers in an ambulance, but the girl has just been shot and is suffering from a concussion, not to mention this is now the second attempt on her life in as many weeks. She's disoriented and most likely panicked. If you won't let Mr. Queen ride with her, at least allow her bodyguard to sit in the front."
The paramedic gives it a minute of consideration. Within that minute Oliver begins to contemplate every possible way he could get the man fired if anything happens to Felicity.
"That should be fine."
With the paramedic's go-ahead Oliver crosses over to where Felicity is half-laying on the stretcher, eyes slightly glazed but still open.
"Hey..." He speaks to her softly, garnering her attention. "They're gonna take you to the hospital now to close up the wound and run some scans to make sure you didn't hurt your head too badly."
"M'kay."
Her sighed response worries Oliver, causing him to reach out and cup her cheek. She immediately leans further into his touch and the action causes warmth to spread through his chest. He angles her head so that they are making direct eye contact, helping her focus on him and his words.
"They won't let me ride with you but they said Digg could. I'll follow you in his car, okay?"
"You're coming to the hospital, too? Are you hurt?"
Felicity's eyebrows pull together in consternation and her hand lazily brushes his arm before gripping his bicep, as if she's attempting to check him for injury. In any other situation Oliver would easily be distracted by her soft caress. But right now all he cares about and can focus on is Felicity and her wellbeing.
"No, no, I'm fine. I'm going to be with you, to make sure you are okay."
"Oh. Okay."
Her face relaxes and she graces him with a small, lazy smile before she lays back on the stretcher.
"Excuse me, Mr. Queen. I don't want to interrupt but we need to get her to the hospital."
Although he's annoyed at the interruption, Oliver realizes that the paramedic is right and so gives him a nod in assent before stepping back with Digg. They agree to meet in whatever room Felicity will be assigned and Digg hands Oliver the keys to his car, parked in the QC garage, before climbing into the passenger side of the ambulance. It speeds away, sirens sounding, and Oliver is on his feet, headed towards the garage in record time. He has the forethought to send a quick text to the intern assisting the project, Barry Allen it reads in his phone, to cancel all appointments for the day, including the one with Frank Bertinelli. It's probably better this way. Oliver isn't sure what he would do to the man if left alone with him and that wouldn't work well with his plan at all.
….
Forty-three minutes later Oliver enters the hospital room Felicity is being kept in. Not that he was counting. Or broke several different traffic laws to get here in almost half the time it should normally take unless he were in the emergency vehicle itself.
As Oliver cuts around the corner of the hallway, he sees Diggle standing outside of a room on the left. His stride quickens, closing the space between him and where Felicity is. Digg informs him of what's happening, she was given a local anesthetic before they stitched the bullet wound shut and the doctor just arrived to perform a routine check and examine her head. Once Digg is finished briefing him, Oliver enters the private room that he ensured Felicity be placed in.
"Can you follow the light with your eyes for me, Felicity?"
The doctor, a friend of the Queen family by the name of Dr. Lamb, shines a light at Felicity's eyes. She squints at the initial brightness, before her eyes somewhat come into focus, and does what she was asked. From his vantage point, Oliver can see that she is still a little slow in processing the movement but her perception and focus are better than when he talked to her initially after receiving the injury. It causes him to relax slightly. This means she likely did not sustain any major head trauma from the blow. The guilt he was too preoccupied to pay attention to begins to recede.
"Okay, a little slow, but not too bad. Let's try a few other small tests."
After a few other examinations Dr. Lamb makes a positive noise and quickly jots a few notes down onto his clipboard. Oliver takes the opportunity to further enter the room, grabbing the attention of its other two occupants.
"Oliver, I'm glad you're here. I was just about to order a CT scan for Felicity."
"Is something wrong?"
He was sure that the damage hadn't been that bad.
"No, nothing is wrong. It's just standard procedure. I'm confident in saying that the only injury sustained besides the shot to her shoulder is a grade two concussion. She should be fine to go home later tonight."
"Thank you."
The doctor nods before leaving Oliver and Felicity alone in the room to put in the order for the scan.
"How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine. It hurts like a bitch and I nearly got sick as they pulled the thread through my skin, oh God I might get sick after all, but other than that I'm fine."
He's happy to see that she's much more coherent now than she was before.
"Felicity!"
Thea comes barreling through the door and heads straight for her best friend. Her arms wrap tightly around Felicity who let's out a small cry of pain, causing Thea to pull back instantly.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I just… Mr. Diggle called mom and told her what happened and we came here as fast as possible and I'm just so happy you're okay."
Oliver glances towards the door to find Moira standing there, a hand fisted and resting over her heart. Next to her stands John and Oliver nods at him in thanks. He didn't even think to call his family.
"You're going to be okay, right?"
"Yeah, I was shot in the shoulder and the doctor says I have a concussion but I'll be okay. He said I could probably go home tonight."
"Oh thank God. I can't lose my best friend, Lissy."
Thea's hand grips Felicity's tightly and Oliver can see tears in both girls' eyes. They provide each other with strength and stability, something Oliver is happy to see. Even though a part of him wishes he could be that person for his sister, he knows that Felicity is much more stable and reliable a person than he. Had he been here with them the past five years, Oliver's not sure if Felicity and Thea would have been this close. At least one good thing came from his absence.
He steps forward to gently place a hand on his sister's shoulder.
"She's going to be fine, Speedy. Maybe a bit out of it for a few days but after that she will be good as new."
Thea gives him a watery smile and nods in response.
"Excuse me, but I need to take Ms. Smoak for her scan."
An attending comes in with a nurse and they quickly take Felicity away to be tested, leaving Moira, Thea, Diggle, and Oliver in the room to wait. Oliver offers Moira and Thea the two chairs propped against the hotel room wall and motions for Diggle to step into the room.
"Oliver, what happened?"
Moira's worry is evident in her posture but her voice doesn't waver in her inquiry.
"We were walking into Queen Consolidated when a guy sped around on a motorcycle. It caught my attention and I saw him aim a gun at Felicity. He took the shot and I knocked her out of the way but not before he hit her shoulder. She hit her head on the concrete from the fall and that's how the concussion happened."
Detached, clinical, to the point. That's the only way he can deal with this right now.
"Oh God…"
Moira takes in an unsteady breath and covers her mouth with her hand.
It's overwhelming news, learning that someone out there is trying to maim, kill a loved one. Oliver has been exposed to that firsthand. But Thea and Moira, they've never gone through anything remotely close to this.
"Mom, Felicity is going to be okay."
Being the comforter, that's not something Oliver is familiar with. Pain, anger, worry those are all emotions he's come to know well. But dealing with those in other people is a whole different thing. Standing here, now, in a hospital while Felicity is somewhere in a room being scanned and tested, is a terrifying situation for all of them. The difference is he has dealt with this before. His family has not.
A knock on the door draws their attention as Detective Lance walks in. Oliver questions the man before he even gets a chance to greet them.
"Detective. Do you have any leads on the shooter?"
"No, no I'm afraid the only leads we have are the ones from the other night. Did you get a good look at the guy?"
Oliver's hands clench and he lets out a sigh of frustration.
"No. I was too distracted making sure Felicity was okay to go after him. My friend Mr. Diggle here might have though."
Quentin turns to the bodyguard in question and raises an inquisitive eyebrow at him.
"I'm sorry, he was wearing a helmet and going too fast for me to get the license plate number down."
"Don't worry. We'll find the son of a bitch."
An air of frustration permeates the room. They can't find the shooter if the only details they have are that it may or may not be mob related. The lack of information is starting to anger Oliver.
"We better."
….
The rhythmic pounding of fists against a punching bag allows Oliver to get lost in himself. His swings are relentless as they beat the synthetic covering, leaving fist-shaped indents in their wake. It's late, or early depending on how you look at it, but he can't sleep. Instead of his typical haunting nightmares and insomnia, Oliver is kept awake with anger, adrenaline, and fear. The fear isn't for himself; it's for the babbling blonde asleep upstairs.
The worst part is that he can't do anything about it. Until they identify who is responsible for the now two attempted murders, there's nothing for him to do but sit and wait. Two things that Oliver does not do well.
He's a man of action. If there's a problem, he dives in headfirst to take care of it. Defense is not a position he plays well, especially when someone he cares about is in danger.
"Oliver, it's nearly three in the morning. Go get some rest."
Diggle enters the training room of the mansion and slowly saunters towards his friend.
"I can't."
The sound of pounding becomes louder as the force behind Oliver's punches increases.
"Felicity is going to be okay. Thea's asleep in her room with her and I'm checking in on them every hour."
"Make it every thirty minutes."
"Oliver."
Instead of looking at his former brother in arms, Oliver moves from the punching bag to the rowing machine. He yanks on the chords at a relentless pace; sweat dripping from every pore in his body.
"I was supposed to have a meeting with Frank Bertinelli today."
There a pause in conversation as Diggle takes that piece of information in.
"Let me get this straight. You had a meeting with a rumored mob boss whose subordinates may be responsible for the attempt, now attempts, on Felicity's life and didn't think it was a good idea to tell me?"
Oliver can hear the disapproval and incredulity in Digg's voice.
"The other night at the fundraiser he expressed his interest in the weaponry project. He's the only lead we have and I needed an in."
"Still, she's my charge. That would have been important information I needed to know. You called me to help you keep her safe. I can't do that if you don't tell me what's going on."
"If you had known you would have been on high alert and had Bertinelli run into you he would have noticed."
"You're not in this alone, Oliver. We need to work together if we are going to keep Felicity out of harms way. I can't do my job if you're keeping secrets."
Digg is right. Oliver knows he is. But he hasn't exactly been thinking straight, caring only about finding who is responsible for this and putting an end to them. Now that he has time to think, to breathe, he realizes that not letting Digg know about his meeting with Bertinelli could have seriously put Felicity's life in jeopardy. He needs to give Diggle his full disclosure.
"You're right. I had the meeting reschedule for tomorrow night, well tonight now, at Bertinelli's home."
"Okay, so Felicity is shot at and they way you are choosing to process this emotionally is through brutal workouts at ungodly hours of the night and by infiltrating the mob under the guise of a possible business partnership?"
"I'm not trying to process this emotionally, Digg."
Oliver pauses in his workout, reaching for his nearby water bottle to take a swig, and then finally looking over at his friend.
"Yeah, well maybe that's you're problem, man. Have you thought about, I don't know, just going to check in on her?"
His mind flashes to the conversation with Felicity in the car this morning. It feels like days ago that it happened but also like only moments have passed since. He can clearly conjure up the distance she put between them, both physically and mentally. He recalls the way he had to goad her into talking with him, Felicity whose mouth usually runs a mile a minute and in a million different directions.
"Something tells me that might not go over very well. But what I can do is follow every lead I have. And when I find out who this guy is, Diggle, I'm going to have him locked away behind iron bars."
Oliver turns back to his workout, signaling the end of that conversation. He can hear the footfalls of his friend as he makes his way towards the door.
"You know, Oliver, you're not the only one who lost people that day. They were my comrades, too. This anger you're harboring, it's going to eat you up alive if you keep isolating yourself from the people who care about you like this."
The closing of the door rings louder than it should on his way out.
….
"Ollie, where are you going?"
Damn it.
Oliver has been avoiding his sister all day, which up until this point was proving to be rather easy since she spent most of it in bed with a still recovering Felicity to keep her company and make sure she was okay. He was in the foyer, just about to leave for his meeting with Frank Bertinelli, when Thea stopped him.
"Speedy. I was just heading out for a business dinner. What's up?"
"Oh you know, I was just wondering why you haven't come to check on Felicity once."
Thea crosses her arms in front of her and glares at him. It's obvious that his seeming lack of concern has angered her.
"I've just been busy going over some basic details for the Applied Sciences project, preparing for this meeting, which I will be late to if I don't leave within the next minute."
It's half true. He really has been looking over the outlines and schematics for what the division has planned. It's impressive, to say the least. However, he's also been actively avoiding them. He figures that after everything that has happened, space is the least he can do for Felicity.
Oliver doesn't tell Thea about how he checked in on them during the early hours of the morning when they were fast asleep.
"No, you are not getting out of this one. I have been with Felicity all day, not that I mind because she's my best friend. Hell, Mr. Diggle has been, too. Even dad stopped in to check on her this morning before he left for work."
"I've just been really busy, Thea."
His sister stalks over to him, head shaking in indignation.
"Cut the crap, Ollie. Tell me what's really going on."
Just then, Tommy rushes through the front door, saving Oliver from Thea's intense scrutiny.
"Hey, I heard about Felicity. Is she alright?"
"Yeah, she's resting upstairs."
"Not that Ollie would know because he hasn't seen her once since she got back from the hospital."
Tommy glances between the two siblings, sensing the tension from the conversation he interrupted.
"Now is not the time, Thea. Sorry, Tommy, I gotta run to this business thing. But thank you for coming by. I'm sure Felicity will be thrilled to see you."
"It's no problem, man. Felicity is like a little sister to me, too."
Right, because that's exactly how Oliver sees her. He sees her just like a little sister. A little sister who isn't related to him at all and whose colorful nails and brightly painted lips star in his dreams quite frequently. God, he needs help.
"Yeah."
Oliver quickly grabs his keys and strides towards the front door. Just as it's about to slam shut behind him, he hears Thea call out.
"Don't think you're off the hook, Ollie!"
Wouldn't dream of it.
….
The grand wooden and glass door of the mansion opens, revealing an older man with brown, slightly graying hair and a hooked nose.
"Oliver, welcome."
"Mr. Bertinelli."
The two men shake hands in greeting as they enter the foyer, door falling shut behind them.
"Please, call me Frank. Thank you for agreeing to meet me at my home and at such late hours."
"My father used to say that living rooms make the best conference rooms."
"Oh, I'm gonna steal that one."
Bertinelli nods his head, chuckling in agreement before gesturing to a man who has been standing in the background.
"This is Nick Solvate, my associate." Oliver quickly greets the man, noting the gun not quite hidden underneath his suit jacket. "Please, let's have a drink."
They cross the foyer and enter a smaller, more intimate room with large sofas and a grand fireplace built into the wall. Bertinelli gestures for Oliver to take a seat on one of the leather sofas while he fetches them a drink. It gives Oliver the time to survey his surroundings, noting all exits and possible weapons.
"So, Oliver, I saw on the news about that young girl your family is so fond of. What's her name, again?"
"Felicity Smoak. She's a long time friend of my younger sister. My parents took her in a few years back, while I was deployed."
"Smoak. Any relation to Karen Smoak?"
A chill sets in Oliver's bones. Speaking so personally about Felicity with the man who might be responsible for her attempted murders sets him on edge. But this is what he came here for, to see if there was a connection between Frank Bertinelli, the mob, and Karen Smoak that would result in Felicity's endangerment. The only physical sign of Oliver's distress lies in his locked jaw.
"Karen is her mother. They don't speak very often."
"Oh. Well I am terribly sorry about what happened to the poor thing. They mentioned she was shot. Will she be okay?"
Bertinelli's words are kind but lack an air of sincerity and worry usually accustomed with this kind of inquiry.
"Yes, she's recovering as we speak."
"That is good to hear. I wish her a quick and easy recovery."
"You and me both."
The men pause in order to take a pull of the amber liquid in their glasses. A cell phone rings and Bertinelli's associate, whom Oliver knows is not simply a business partner, leaves the room to take the call.
"Oliver, I'm going to be blunt. I want the contract to partner with Queen Consolidated's Applied Sciences division. Specifically to work on the project for Defense Tech."
"And I'm inclined to hear you out on it."
"The violence in this city, in this world, it's terrible. Take for example what happened with young Ms. Smoak yesterday. Sometimes I wonder why I stay."
"I've had similar thoughts."
"So why come back? After all those years in the Army, you could have gone anywhere in the world."
"Because Starling City is my home."
Bertinelli murmurs an Italian phrase in response to which Oliver raises a questioning eyebrow.
"No matter which way you go or turn, you always end up at home."
Just then, Bertinelli's guard returns to the room, expression firm and stony.
"Excuse me, sir, that meeting you requested, they can do it. Now."
The conflict is evident in Bertinelli's eyes and Oliver quickly jumps in.
"I can come back another time."
"No, no, no, just… Excuse us for a moment please."
The businessman ushers his associate to the side. They exchange quick heated words and it seems that Solvate is attempting to refuse whatever his boss is saying. It grows heated but simmers down when Bertinelli finally nods in assent and the pair makes their way back over to where Oliver is standing.
"Unfortunately, I have to take this meeting. But I would like to invite both you and your lovely family over for a dinner in hopes that I can make it up to you. Maybe you and I can sit down with your parents as well and have a chat about the partnership. I'm sure your sister and her friend could find something to entertain them while we talk business."
A dinner with Oliver's entire family, including Felicity, at Bertinelli's home would put her right in the middle of the mob's clutches. Oliver's immediate instinct is a deep and resounding no.
"Oh, that' really not necessary. I'm sure my assistant can schedule you in later this week. I wouldn't want to put you through the trouble of hosting a dinner."
"Don't be ridiculous. My daughter, Helena, will be back in town with her fiancé and I was planning on holding a dinner while they were here. It would be my pleasure to have the Queen family join us. I'm sure a few of my associates would be thrilled to attend as well."
Oliver cannot think of a way out of this one. If he is going to get more information on the mob and find a connection to Karen, then he has to remain in good standing with Frank. In the end, he reluctantly makes his decision.
"Sure, dinner sounds wonderful."
….
Author's Note: I might have to skip a week again but after that we should be getting back to once a week updates because school will be over for me and I don't start work until June. I appreciate all the enthusiasm but also please understand that I have other things that take priority over writing, which I do for fun in my spare time.
But hey! season finale next week! (I'll probably end up crying on my couch with a bottle of wine and a pint of Ben & Jerry's for one reason or another.) Get excited!
Thank you for you're patience and understanding :)
- Bri