I held the night’s reservation list in my hand as I took one step toward my office -

“Mr. Otellio? The list?” Fabrizio chimed in.

“Oh, yes, you need that, ha ha,” my laugh cracked a bit. Dammit, the toughest guys in the city come here every night and I don’t bat an eyelash. Maryanne Stone’s name in print makes my knees buckle! I handed Fabrizio the sheet and walked off.

Up the stairs in the back and into my well appointed office I strode. Up there was a sanctuary of sorts. Sound-proof glass, padded leather doors and my own piped in music all built to my specifications. As the double doors swung closed, my desk phone rang.

“Yes,” I said into my private line.

“Is my table ready for tonight, Otellio? I have an important meeting and I do not want to be disturbed.” A familiar deep and menacing voice from the other side.

“Of course Mr. D, as usual. Your private booth in the back.”

“That is what I like about you Otellio, prepared and respectful. I made a good decision investing in you, didn’t I?”