Besides—even if, by some miracle of his rancid intuition, he does know about the baby or the plot or my relationship to Giana, it isn’t going to matter. Not for much longer.
Before the night is out, Raymond will be in the ground.
All I have to do is keep smiling until then.
Senator DeMaris reappears at our elbow. Since I last saw him, he has acquired a bridesmaid: a thin redhead in lavender chiffon who is twenty-three if she’s a day. He’s whispering something in her ear and she’s giggling in a way that makes me want to throw her over my shoulder and carry her out into the street for a well-deserved timeout, followed by a woman-to-woman scolding.
“Ray. Ray, listen to this. Listen.” DeMaris ropes Raymond in with a chummy arm around the shoulder. “Brittany here works for the Brooklyn D.A.
