Roman grimaced. “Dad won’t be happy to know that kind of treachery is at work inside his business.”
Tori’s manner was strangely somber. “Your father is well versed with treachery, Rome. He knows there are many places where it could crop up. These kind of secret protocols are necessary more often than you think.”
The tour got back underway soon enough. By then, however, Toriano’s somber mood had settled over the rest of the group.
***
They returned to The Palmer about two hours before the hotel restaurants began serving dinner that evening. Roman had been tapped to check with the front desk for messages while the rest headed on up for naps and showers before supper. Roman was happy for the chore as the long wide desk was the perfect construction to support his weight. There he rested his legs and rubbed his tired eyes, not minding the wait until one of the desk clerks acknowledged him.
“We’d be happy to have your father’s correspondence delivered to his room, Your Highness.”
Laughter followed the desk clerk’s offer.
“It’s no trouble, really and please call me Imani.”
Roman told himself to make no sudden moves when the familiar laughter reached his ears. Casually, he peered between his fingers still near his eyes and confirmed she stood but a short distance away.
The clerk’s chirpy laughter was next to ring out. “It’s no trouble,” she said, “just let us know whenever you’d like us to begin the service. As for the other request, Your Highness, I’m afraid our country doesn’t see royalty everyday, not even here inside The Palmer. We make the most of it when we do.”
“Understood,” amusement still flavored Imani’s voice. “Thank you,” she left the clerk with a graceful nod and moved on.
Roman’s ebony stare followed the departure. The braids that had tumbled to the middle of her back that morning, were bound in one massive braid that knocked her spine as she moved. She was dressed as casually as she’d appeared earlier that day in jeans and a simple peach colored blouse. Short sleeves puffed around her upper arms. She was leggy and slender, yet voluptuous in places that made his fists clench once again. The reaction wasn’t due to anger, but the need to touch her.
“Imani,” he said.
~16~
“You’re shittin’ me? Royalty? Here?”
Roman grinned. “The place is known for having royal guests, you know?”
Pitch shrugged. “Never seen any in all the times we’ve come here. I always thought it was just some lie to get people to plunk down all the cash they ask for one fucking night in this place.” He glanced over a shoulder and then raised a brow to his brother. “So who are they? What the hell are they doing here?”
While collecting his family’s messages, Roman had gotten as many details as possible from the front desk clerk. He’d then moved on, collecting choice information from other members of the hotel staff. He wasn’t surprised that much of the information he uncovered came from the housekeeping crew who knew more about the hotel’s guests than its own booking department.
“They’re from Africa-Mozambique.” Roman told Pitch. “The King-or Chief-makes a U.S. visit every year. This year he brought his nephews, four sons and his daughter-all his kids. She’s the youngest.”
“And a princess.” Pitch probed.
“Pretty much,” Roman nodded, his expression distant, “Imani,” he said.
Pitch smiled. “I thought you were acting so spacey because you were hung over. Is she the reason? Your little princess? She been on your mind all day?”
Roman studied the stitched pattern in the dining table’s damask cloth. “She’s been on my mind for about a month,” his voice was level and nearly monotone. “And I haven’t been spacey, I’ve been suspicious.”
Pitch rested back against the chair’s satin padding. “You gonna make me guess?” Casually, he waved his hand in a gesture of expectancy.
Roman glanced around the elegant room. Fine suits and tuxedos were the style of dress that night. So far, he and Pitch were the only ones at their table. “Back at the factory,” he began, “I was going to find a john-”
“Ah! I see! You weren’t sure if yours was mens’ or ladies’,” Pitch shook his head sorrowfully. “I’d be suspicious of that too if I were you.”
“Fuck you,” Dry humor seasoned Roman’s voice. “I was down on the operating floor where all the controls and stuff are-”
“Yes, yes it was all very exciting,” Pitch gave the impatient wave again.
Roman scowled. “Would you just shut the fuck up and let me get to it? I saw Uncle Mica with one of those plain clothes guys. He was opening up two cases. I couldn’t see inside them-they were facing away from me, but I watched Unc pull out a stack of cash. Fucking thing would’ve gagged a horse.”
Pitch winced. “Fuck Rome, that could’ve been anything.”
“Could’ve been,” Roman rested back on his chair then as well. “And I don’t think it was anything good,” his gaze narrowed then as he studied Pitch’s expression more closely. “You don’t think it’s anything good either, do you?”
Slouching then, Pitch rested his head against the chair’s curved maple back. “Did anybody see you? Recognize you?” he asked.
Roman inclined his head in a flippant manner. “If they did, I doubt they recognized me. I still had on my hard hat and somebody shoved goggles in my hand when I left you and Uncle Tori in the hall,” he leaned into the table, lightly pounding it beneath his fist. “What the hell, P? What do you know?”
Pitch spent a while digging the heels of his hands into his eyes and then he groaned. “Security guards at our factories, shipyards and a few other properties are getting pressure to join a...union, I guess you’d call it. They’re hesitant about it. Mistrustful might be a better word. My proposal is about having Tesano form its own guard’s hub, give them a choice over whatever it is they’re being pressured into by the company they work for. It’s all ironic as fuck, because Tesano involvement is why they’re mistrustful.”
Roman raised a dark brow. “Now I need to ask if you’re gonna make me guess?”
“Uncle Emilio is involved.”
Roman nodded, but otherwise remained silent. Emilio Tesano was his father’s oldest brother and now President of Tesano’s security division. The division was partly responsible for ensuring that the company’s vast assortment of products got where they needed to be, on time and in tact.
Products, in addition to apparel and fabrics, now included fine wines, liquor, residential furniture and auto parts. The last two additions to the company’s roster had increased clientele by 30% and had given Tesano its irrevocable push into the ranks of the country’s top-grossing companies.
Despite that unimagined success, the bond between Liam Tesano and his brother was an uncertain one. Roman had always sensed there was something or perhaps many somethings that had brought on the stress. They weren’t the kind of petty squabbles he had with his own brothers, but issues he’d sensed were dark, messy and tragic.
Roman and his brothers had beared witness to disagreements between their father and uncles. They were never asked to leave when those tense discussions erupted. Roman believed his father hoped that by witnessing such nonsense between their elders, the rest of them would be motivated to treat each other differently and better.
