Saks and Luke sat at a booth at the front window, overlooking the street. The waitress took their order of wings, potato skins, and beer.
“I can't believe you’d leave your bike here, even if the Roccos are your cousins.”
Saks stared out the window at the cars that travelled the four-lane highway. “Unavoidable,” he replied. His eyes flicked to his phone, which he put on the table, and with a frown he looked out the window again.
“Sorta like how you’ve been checking your phone all day?”
The waitress noisily set their beers on the table and Saks took a sip. He didn’t want to talk about last night or Chrissy. Apparently Luke noticed that, too.
“Okay, I won’t pry. I’ve got something else to talk about.”
“I figured you had ulterior motives.”
Luke nodded. “I do. Emily and I have been talking about ways of expanding business.”
“That’s good,” said Saks, not sure what it had to do with him.
“And you’re aware I enjoy selling bikes on the side.”
“You do,” agreed Saks.
“So, we're going to expand into selling used bikes full time. I’m hoping it’ll work out so I can buy into a dealership.”
“Interesting.”
“I’ve researched the different repair certifications for other models, and I’m going to the Suzuki school for twelve weeks.”
“Oh,” said Saks. This was it. Luke was going to lay him off. “Does this mean I go to Florida during the hottest part of the year?” He had a cousin there who’d take him on as a mechanic in his shop. Saks nearly did that last Christmas when things became tense with his family because of his involvement with the Spawn.
“No,” Luke said, exasperated. “It means I want to give you a promotion.”
“A what?” He nearly sputtered in his beer.
“Manager of the shop. How does that sound?”
Saks stared at Luke. Manager? “You want me to make decisions about your shop?”
“There’s no one better. Besides, Emily will still help in the mornings, and I’ve got Rob coming on to help with the work.”
“Rob? Gibs’ brother?”
“Yes. We’ve talked it over, and it's a good idea.”
This was another surprise. Rob was the older brother of the man who the street gang, the Hombres, shot in front of Gibs’ own house. They were going for Luke, but Gibs took the bullet. But Luke made no bones he wasn’t fond of Rob, even if he was Emily’s biological father.
“Of course,” continued Luke, “I can’t offer you much more than five thousand a year. That isn’t negotiable. We’ve worked out the most we can pay you, and that’s it.”
Saks nodded, stunned by the conversation. The job of motorcycle mechanic wasn’t known for upward mobility opportunities. He did a quick calculation, and with taxes Luke’s offer would add another three hundred in disposable income a month. Not a ton of money, but certainly better than what he was earning now. “No. That’s more than generous.”
“So, you’ll do it?”
“Anthony!” interrupted an effusive gravelly voice.
Saks hung his head. Uncle Vits.
“And Luke Wade. Good to see you.” Uncle Vits offered his hand and Luke shook it. “I’m sorry to interrupt but, Anthony, can I speak to you for a moment?”
“Sorry, Luke,” Saks said.
“It’s okay,” Luke said with a grin. “More food for me.”
Saks reluctantly followed Uncle Vits to one of the back stockrooms. The Don picked the one where Sheldon stored cases of common wine. The more expensive ones he kept in locked in a vault in the basement.
“You’re looking good, Anthony.”
“Thanks,” he said, wondering what the old man wanted.
“You didn’t return my messages.”
“Working, Uncle. You know that.”
“I can get you a better job. Fewer hours.”
“I enjoy what I do. And Luke was just talking about a promotion for me.”
“That’s good.” Uncle Vits didn’t look like he really cared. “We need to move along on this thing with the Serafina girl.”
“Why don’t you marry her? You’ve been alone too long.”
“No, Anthony. A girl belongs with a strong, young man. Strengthens the family.”
“Can you make it sound as if you aren't matching a stallion to a mare?”
Vits' eyes blazed at Saks’ impertinence. But he was smart enough to know Saks wasn’t on board with the whole scheme and needed convincing. “Look. I’m trying to avoid a war here, son. It’s a small state, no? Not much room to move, especially with how law enforcement has been breathing down the families’ necks. The Serafina and us keep tripping over each other’s feet. Sure, I could have picked one of the soldiers, but that wouldn't work good. Who would he be loyal to? Us? The Serafina? You, Anthony, stand out in having no one, except to that motorcycle club of yours. And that’s the ticket, eh? Your father hopes to bring you into the family business. But I know better. You don’t want this life. I respect that.”