Nico (Ruin & Revenge #1)(18)
Lennie Minudo, the restaurant owner, was waiting for them outside. Far from an innocent civilian, Lennie ran illegal craps games from his back room, and a small-time loan sharking business for the guys who lost big at his tables. He was dirty money, and Nico had no problem taking it off his hands.
As they walked into the restaurant, Nico felt like he’d re-entered the city’s Golden Age—from the tuxedoed waiters and captains doing tableside presentations, to the magnificent plush banquets and the huge raised stage where a Frank Sinatra impersonator was singing “My Way.” Vegas memorabilia and photos lined every square inch of the walls. Framed pictures of old movies stars sat alongside the Mafia greats—Bogart beside Bugsy Siegel, and Frank Sinatra beside Anthony Spilotro. Glass cases containing old 45s and sparkly shoes, an old-fashioned revolver, and a top hat and cane gave the restaurant an elegant feel. Nico had always enjoyed Vegas’ old-school restaurants, but Il Tavolino was in an entirely different league.
“How long have you been here?” He pulled Lennie to the side as Frankie and Luca ordered their drinks.
“About two years now,” he said. “This used to be the Golden Nugget back in the day. I bought it ten years ago and it took a long time to fix it up and decorate just right. Members of the Rat Pack used to come to the Golden Nugget and I got to keep all the pictures on the wall. Elvis Presley ate here, Joe DiMaggio, Tony Spilotro, and more.”
“And the memorabilia?”
Lennie shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a collector, Mr. Toscani. It took me so long to fix this place up because I’d see something I’d just have to have and those things don’t come cheap.”
“Incredible.” Nico took a walk around, soaking in the Old Vegas-meets-Old Hollywood decor. If he ever had something that was just his, bought with clean money, decorated to his taste, and solely for his pleasure, it would be this.
He felt a curious longing as he joined Frankie, Big Joe, and Luca in the booth. It was the same feeling he’d had when Mia had been in his office. Something so unexpected and foreign he had dismissed it right away.
“You guys want something to eat? Drink?” Lennie offered them a menu. “Everything is on the house.”
“I’ll tell you what we’re gonna have,” Nico said, waving away the menu. “Make us a little of this and a little of that, maybe some antipasti, some mussels with gorgonzola, a little strozzapreti with wild boar sauce and rigatoni with spicy sausage and peppers, and maybe some tiger prawns with a little cream and basil, and then we’ll have cannoli. Lots of cannoli. How does that sound?”
“Very good, Mr. Toscani.”
He enjoyed his meal, smiled as Luca and Frankie ribbed Big Joe about his punctuality, but his mind was on the saucy little temptress he’d caught in his casino. He’d directed Vito to send a notice terminating the contract, but when he received a bill with the words “As promised” scrawled across the top, he couldn’t help but laugh. No one else would have dared send him a bill after what had happened at the casino. That she had, made him want her even more. He had met few women in his life who would stand up to him, fewer still who would defy him. And none he wanted to see again.
After the dishes were cleared, he waved Lennie over and thanked him for the meal. Business was never conducted until after the food was done, and that was Lennie’s sign to explain his problem.
“I got thieves on my staff, taking from the cash register, hauling away food and booze,” Lennie said, wringing his hands. “And I got problems with drug dealers loading my customers up with coke. The dealers are attracting some rough characters. They cause fights in the bar, and I can’t call the police because if they find out about the dealers then I’ll lose my liquor license and my craps tables. My friend down the street, he says he pays you every week and you help him out with security issues. I was just wondering if I could get in on that, too.”
Nico bit back a laugh. When he’d cleaned up Lennie’s friend’s restaurant, he’d sent the thieves and druggies down here with the sole purpose of getting Lennie to call and ask for the same protection the Toscanis offered his friend. The ultimate goal was to bust them out, a classic scam in which the mob offered to clean the place up for a fixed weekly fee, and then over time offered to drop the fee for a piece of the action. As the mob worked its way into the business, they would section off tables for their permanent use, order excess supplies on credit to sell on the black market, and launder money through creative bookkeeping. When the owner’s credit and reputation were shot, the building would be burned down for the insurance money.
Nico didn’t bust out innocent civilians, and now that he was here, he didn’t want to bust Lennie out either. Burning down the restaurant would be a fucking tragedy. The memorabilia Lennie had collected was irreplaceable.
“I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do.” Nico outlined a plan in which Big Joe would come by every day for a week or two to weed out the crooks and clean the place up. Nico would ensure Lennie was never bothered again, and in return Lennie would give him twenty percent of the business and the best table in the house whenever Nico stopped by for a meal.
Frankie, Luca, and Big Joe stared at him like he’d grown another head. This discussion usually happened months after the first visit when the owner was dependent on the mob for protection and had no way out. But Nico didn’t intend to play the game to the inevitable conclusion. He wanted a piece of the Il Tavolino, but he wanted Lennie to run it.