I’m feeling quite wonderful, and the night is going swell. I’ve heard that Mr. D. has a small stake in The Topaz. So it’s only courtesy for Vincenzo to wait on him personally. Still I keep an eye on important parties. When Vincenzo goes, not to the kitchen window, but to Maryanne’s table, I’m alarmed. The chef can’t prepare their dinners until he knows what they are.

I give Vincenzo the eye; he doesn’t even notice. I step in front of him; my God, his face. “Mr. Otellio? Sir?”

“What?” he snaps, trying to get around me.

“Are you going to take Mr. DiSibio’s order? Or shall I?”

He stares at Maryanne. “No, you do it Fabrizio.” Got it. I take a step toward the VIP dining area. Then he adds, “You are getting your shot tonight; make it good.”

The blood roars in my ears. The pink glow that underlies everything in the room takes on a sudden heat. He knows!

I go to DiSibio’s table. “Gentlemen, have you had time to consider the menu?”

Our investor’s companions look at me thoughtfully. My God, they’re armed.