Chapter 3
Mario studied the man’s expression. He seemed genuine. However, this was New York, so anything was possible. “Why?”
“I might have a job for you that would pay three times what you make now.”
This statement made Mario’s eyes narrow in suspicion.
Frank laughed gregariously at the boy’s obvious distrust, and held up his hands in defence. “Nothing kinky. I promise.”
Mario smiled almost embarrassed that he was thinking it, “I’m sorry sir,” He said sheepishly, “this is New York.”
Frank nodded toward the two beautiful women waiting patiently through the car window without taking his eyes off of Mario, “As you can see, I don’t play that way. “ Normally he would take offense at someone thinking that way about him, but he was moving fast on this kid and he could understand where he got the idea.
Mario grinned while looking at the women before he returned his dark gaze back on his fare tilting his head questioningly, “…And you’ll pay my wages for today?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“You’re a good kid. You work hard, you’re Italian and you love your mother. For me that’s all I need in an employee.” He smiled, “I have a job in mind for you. You only have to drive and maybe run a few errands. Nothing else. However, I like to get to know a new employee before I decide if the job suits them. Also I’m not the only one that needs to be impressed. So, you come with me for the rest of the night, and I’ll let you know before the night is over whether I want you to work for me or not.”
Mario’s mother always told him, if it was too good to be true, it probably was. However, something deep within him told him to trust this man. He went with his instincts, “Alright.”
“Eccellente.” He pushed a small roll of bills through the slot in the divider, “My name is Frank Castile.”
Mario took the money and looked back up at him, “this is too much.”
Frank laughed, not the least bit surprised by his honesty, “It’s okay kid, I can afford it. Buy something nice for your mother. Now come, I have two beautiful women waiting.”
Mario looked at the busy club entrance, “Mr. Castile, I’m only twenty.”
Frank got out of the car and opened the door for Mario, “It’s alright. There won’t be a problem.”
Mario got out of the car, “How do you know?”
“I own the club.” He shut the door behind him.
That was two years ago. Now Mario drove for Nick, Frank’s most trusted. Mario knew Nick was good at what he did. Not just because of the rumours he had heard, but he believed some of them because he had seen the man in action.
The gossip among Frank’s men were like he was in Special Forces, and then recruited for the CIA or some shit like that. He believed the gossip somewhat, the guy was built like a brick shit house. He was lean yet muscular and it wasn’t the kind of body you got from steroids, it was definitely naturally developed. The kind of body you would see on a triathlon competitor. He’d seen Nick change his shirt one day when he accidently got some blood on his suit after he did an errand for his boss. One of those errands Mario wasn’t allowed to accompany him to whatever Frank had asked Nick to do.
Although he always was there to pick him up after, Nick preferred to work certain jobs alone. So, during this moment in Nick’s room, he couldn’t’ mistake the two hundred and forty pounds give or take, six foot four athletic build. He could guess the height easily because Mario was six feet exactly and Nick was slightly taller than him. Mario was also more slender and weighed about one hundred and Ninety pounds. He knew that Nick had at least fifty pounds more of muscle on him. Mario would have loved to try and achieve that build, but between this job and his mother, he didn’t have any spare time. On top of that Nick’s body was adorned with several tattoos that just set off his beautiful physique. One was a tattoo of barbwire wrapped around his neck across his left shoulder, down around his muscled bicep and to mid forearm. The words “All warfare is based on deception’ were tattooed on the barbwire on his upper bicep so it followed the contours of the wire. His expensive suits hid the tattoos completely. On his right bicep was a traditional tattoo of the Navy Seals consisting of the name, an eagle in the middle holding a trident in front of an anchor surrounded by a circle, which kind of looked like a life preserver. He’d put on his shirt before Mario could look at any more of them. Mario had to bite his tongue not to ask him about them, especially the script. For some reason he knew this wasn’t the time. He sighed and decided to remain envious while remembering that Frank Castile wanted to see Nick, “Boss wants to see you.”
“Fine.”
Fine? That’s all you have to say? Mario thought to himself. He remembered clearly as if was yesterday upon seeing Nick for the first time.
It was the same night he met Frank Castile. Although the nightclub that Frank owned was packed, Nick stood out. Not just because of his height, his expensive suit or his immaculate good looks, but because he was the only one in the place that didn’t seem to be having a good time. He looked sharp in a pressed dark gray pinstriped suit, white shirt with a high mandarin collar which told Mario this guy was as wealthy as his new companion. Although he was strikingly handsome, and carried himself with radiating self-assurance, his eyes and expression were void of emotion. Mario almost shuddered when he focused his dark eyes on him for the first time.
However, when the Frank and Nick embraced in greeting Mario saw a flicker of emotion making him think he couldn’t be all that frightening as he previously thought. He watched Frank point to the mirrored windows overlooking the club. Nick nodded and led the way and Mario followed both of them when Frank waved for him to come along. Once inside, Frank closed the door behind the two causing the loud music to turn to a moderate muffle. At least they could talk without yelling. In the lit office, Mario could see how handsome this man really was. He actually looked a lot like his new potential employer only a younger version. Mario figured he was also Italian, not just because of his dark looks, but from the conversation in his taxi, he figured out that Frank liked to hire Italian men. He watched Nick lean against the walnut desk crossing his long legs at the ankles and resting the palms of his hands on the top of the glossy surface while curling his fingers over the ledge, looking completely relaxed. His curious eyes focused on Mario who turned his gaze away unable to hold the stare.
“Nick, meet your new driver, Mario Puzzo.”
This brought his head back to the man named Nick. Mario felt a chill go through him as the sharply dressed man allowed his dark gaze scan over him. Mario chose to remain silent. One of the few times anyone could say that about him. The man frightened him because in the light of the office Mario could tell the man was not just cold, but dangerous. When he spoke it was calm and controlled just like everything else about him.
“What makes you think I need a driver?” He raised his eyebrows at Frank.
“Because I said you do. He knows the streets really well. You need that.” Frank answered with unmasked authority.
“Mr. Castile, “ Mario interrupted, “I never said I’d take the job.” He saw Nick smirk out of the corner of his eye. Again, he found himself thinking that the man couldn’t be as cold as he originally thought.
Frank turned to Mario, his expression held the same amused look as Nick’s, “No?”
Mario shook his head with some hesitation, “I have to talk to my mother.”
Frank laughed at that statement, “I see. Well tell your mother you now have a new job that pays two hundred and fifty a night.”
Mario’s jaw dropped.
“Frank.” Nick warned, “The kid doesn’t know what I do and not only that, there’s nothing holding him loyal to you.”
“He’s Italian. What more do you need?” Frank defended.
“Anyway, you’re untouchable. What are you worried about?” Of course he knew what Nick meant, but he had great pride in his own talent for reading people. It had served him well in the past. The kid never had a father figure and had struggled to help his mother. Therefore, he was honourable. He knew he could give this kid what he needed and in exchange the kid would be loyal to them. There was no doubt in his mind.
Nick shook his head at Frank’s jest, “It’s not that simple. You know that. It’s not me I’m worried about.”
“Sir?” Mario interjected missing the concern in Nick’s voice, “For two fifty a night, I’ll be as loyal as a lap dog. Just tell me what you need and it’ll get done.” Regardless of the man’s icy stare he saw a bit of a smile pull at the corner of his mouth. There was no doubt Mario needed the money. He could really help out his mother now. As a result, he was willing to deal with the Nick’s cool nature. Besides how dangerous could the man be?
“You’re sure you want to know what I do?” One of Nick’s eyebrows went up in question as he stared at the young man.
“Doesn’t matter.” Mario said trying not to let his cold stare affect him. How bad could it be?
“I run errands for Frank that might cause you to double check your morals, kid.”
Mario didn’t care, he needed the money. Besides, he grew up in the Bronx, there’s nothing he was sure he hadn’t seen before. Even though the man’s stare unnerved him, and he really didn’t like to be called kid, he was sure he could grow accustomed to it.
Nicked eyed him for a bit longer before he shrugged his shoulders and turned to Frank, “Okay, fine, “ he nodded, “If it’s what you want.”
“It is.” Frank said grinning as he knew he would get his way. Not another could say that of Nick, but he could and Nick never complained, but he had some guilt at how much he worked him. He thought Nick could use some help with the small things such as dry cleaning, meals, and driving. He used him to clean up his organization’s messes which included being on call twenty-four hours a day. Nick hardly slept anyway, but if Frank could alleviate the workload a bit, it would lift some of the guilt he felt.
Nick shook his head in defeat, “All right Frank, you’re the boss.” Then he focused his dark eyes back on Mario, “Cut off the ponytail kid, this isn’t high school.”
Absently Mario reached behind him and fingered his hair. Although he wanted to argue, he knew there was no way in hell the man called Nick would bend. Everything about him was finite. “Sure.” He mumbled.
Mario realized at that moment that the cold stare Nick was able to give off so easily never reflected on Frank Castile. It wasn’t too long after when he found out why.
Now, two years later, he was seasoned in Nick’s needs and had a good idea what Nick did for Frank. He had never seen him kill anyone, but he had seen him protect Frank against patrons of his own club when they got out of hand. He grinned at the memory because it really impressed him.
Six months after he started working for Nick, Frank had three beautiful women beside him in his booth, which he soon discovered that Frank usually was accompanied by at least two or more woman at all times when he was out clubbing. During that one time, two big and muscular men who had had a little too much to drink decided that just because Frank was important didn’t mean he could hog all of the beautiful women in the club. Obviously they didn’t know that he actually owned the club. Frank said something belligerent that Mario couldn’t remember causing one of the men to lunge at him.