The Prof Croft Series: Books 0-4 (Prof Croft Box Sets Book 1) by Brad Magnarella (best business books of all time txt) π
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- Author: Brad Magnarella
Read book online Β«The Prof Croft Series: Books 0-4 (Prof Croft Box Sets Book 1) by Brad Magnarella (best business books of all time txt) πΒ». Author - Brad Magnarella
βI thought these were your people,β I teased.
βBy proxy,β she replied. βBut if I have to listen to one more person rue the tax burden of owning a second home in the Hamptons or, God forbid, an Italian villa, Iβm going to gouge out my eardrums with a caviar spoon.β
βOuch.β
I took two flutes of champagne from a passing tray and handed one to Caroline. With a smile that relaxed her shoulders, she clinked my glass, and we sipped.
The venue was the penthouse of an affluent New York developer, the event a fundraiser for Mayor Lowderβor βBudgeβ to most New Yorkersβwho was seeking reelection in the fall. Caroline didnβt belong to the affluent or political classes. Her father worked as an attorney for the mayorβs office, and she was here tonight in his absenceβthough probably also to freshen up her own contacts. I supposed that went with being the cityβs preeminent expert on urban affairs.
When I looked over, she had polished off her champagne, surrendering the glass to a white-jacketed server. She seemed to steel herself before turning to face me.
βThe secret to mingling,β she counseled, βis to keep moving, like you have someplace youβre determined to get to.β
βAnd whereβs that?β I asked.
I followed her raised eyes to a second-story gallery. βIf we can make it upstairs, thereβs a balcony with an incredible view of Central Park. Weβll step out to catch our breath.β
βSounds like a plan.β
And that was where I would tell her the truth about who I was, I decided. I couldnβt keep holding a curtain up over the other half of my life. Nope, nothing to see back here. There was a good chance she would reject the truthβreject meβbut I wasnβt going to lie to her anymore.
βReady?β she asked after Iβd relinquished my glass.
My heart beat like a bass drum. βLetβs mingle.β
Caroline nodded and wheeled toward the crowd. I followed, a hand on her low back. Despite her just-voiced reluctance to play socialite, Caroline was a natural. Her face glowed as she exchanged greetings and kisses, turned to introduce me, clasped hands with women, joked with men, closed with vague promises to get together soon, and then proceeded to the next group.
I leaned toward her ear as we edged deeper into the crowd. βSure youβre not running for mayor?β
She turned just enough to give me an eye roll.
βCaroline,β a gravely voice called from our left. It took me a moment to place the aging man with the iron-colored hair and bushy black eyebrows.
βMr. Moretti,β Caroline said, a smile dying on her face. βWhat a surprise.β
Constantine Moretti, head of New Yorkβs last Italian crime family, stepped forward in a striped charcoal suit, a woman with lush auburn hair on his arm.
βFor a second there, I thought you were gonna walk right past. Like father, like daughter, I guess.β His grin didnβt reach his eyes. βYou remember my wife, donβt you?β
Caroline turned toward the middle-aged woman who, despite her formal black dress, possessed an aura that felt feral. She appraised Caroline with orange-tinted irises before offering her hand.
βItβs good to see you again, Anita,β Caroline said.
Anita nodded and accepted Carolineβs hand, her nostrils opening out.
βSo whatβs it gonna take to get your old man to return my calls?β Mr. Moretti asked.
Carolineβs neck stiffened. βYouβre asking the wrong person.β
Mr. Moretti peered around. βIs he here?β
βNo. He β¦ he wasnβt feeling well.β
βMaybe you can give him a message.β
βIβm not his answering service.β
Mr. Moretti flashed another hard grin. βRelax. I was just gonna say, if he needs anything to be sure to let me know. We grew up in the same neighborhood, your old man and me. He ever mention that? Thereβs no reason why old neighbors canβt give each other a boost now and again, right?β
βI can think of a few,β Caroline muttered.
βTell him hello in any case,β Mr. Moretti said. βIβll try him again this week.β
βHave a good night,β Caroline said, and moved away from him.
βWhat was that all about?β I asked when we were out of earshot.
βOh, Moretti refuses to accept that the old days are gone. His family used to control construction and trucking in the city. Thatβs how they built their empire. But as City Hall severed those connections, and other crime families moved in to dominate the vice trades, Morettiβs revenue dried up.β
I nodded in understanding. βAnd he wants access to the mayorβs office to try to resurrect his old businesses.β
βExactly, but heβs barking up the wrong tree. My father would never work with his kind.β Her gaze moved past me and hardened. She changed course, as though trying to disappear from someoneβs view.
I peeked back, expecting to find Moretti tailing us. Instead, another man stood out, mostly for his tall, broad-shouldered buildβand yeah, stellar looks. His copper hair and stone-hewn face belonged in a menβs fitness magazine. Though engaged in conversation, he was clearly watching us, or at least Caroline.
Old flame? I wondered, a knot of jealousy hardening my gut.
Caroline squeezed my wrist. βThis is Everson Croft,β she said.
I turned distractedly and then nearly dropped my cane. I was standing in front of a smiling Mayor Budge Lowder and his wife, Penelope. Iβd seen both on TV and in the papers, of course, but never in person.
Budge seized my hand and began pumping away. βWhat do you say there, Everson?β
Despite being on the far side of fifty, Budge Lowder had a boyish look. It was a combination of his baggy tuxedo, chubby face, and the dark cowlick he kept finger-combing to keep from spilling over a pair of round glasses. The look was almost comical, but I remembered Caroline once saying that only a fool would judge the man on appearances.
βItβs an honor to meet you,β I said.
βHey, when you show up with a knockout like this,β the mayor replied, cocking his
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