The Devil You Know (33 page)

an intern, but she was confident Richard White would never notice. ‘Dick’ White, as she thought of him.

He was too egotistical to notice what other people did. Especially women, of course. MaryBeth flirted with him every day as she slavishly made his coffee; he watched her boobs as she leaned over his desk, obligingly putting them on full display. Rose was sure that Dick was fucking MaryBeth in a broom cupboard somewhere. Screwing a secretary was a perk of the .job for most Rothstein

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executives, as far as she could see. But Rose was off-limits to White, and therefore useless.

He was useful to her, though, and that was what counted. Going into Rothstein Realty was a blast. Rose woke up before her alarm every day, she was so excited. Getting dressed, she felt like James Bond suiting up, going down to Q to get his equipment. Because she was a spy in the house of her enemy.

She was like a sponge, soaking it up. Rose had spent the last month photocopying and filing-and making extra copies for herself. Every day the picture got a little clearer for her. At first it was simply how Rothstein worked, how the principles she applied in her tiny morn-and-pop properties translated to corporate tenants, net leases, and millions of dollars. A market valuation approach gave way to more esoteric numbers, to cap rates and replacement costs.

She wished she were in acquisitions. But leasing was good too. Those were the two departments Rothstein was built on: buying skyscrapers, and renting them out.

Rose relished every scrap of knowledge.

Real estate was thrilling. Behind the cold numbers, the filed reports on each transaction, she perceived the adventure; the tirt stopping moments when financing notes were called, unions p,id of and the cold sweat of the billion-dollar landlord as each daya floor of some costly tower stood vacant. ‘

You had to buy right. With these prices, you couldn’t afford mistakes. You had to build right. Every ‘i’ had to be dotted, every ‘t’ crossed; make a zoning error, fail to get a permit, and you were sunk. In reality, this meant bribes. Oh no, wait, she thought, grinning to herself, ‘campaign contributions’. Rothstein donated to everybody. Democrats, Republicans, cops, you name it. The price of doing business. And, lastly, you had to lease right.

Manhattan businesses wanted everything for their money. And you had to give it to them, before one of your competitors did.

She was learning leasing. Learning about Rothstein’s big clients, the ones they had trouble with, the building spaces that didn’t sell. Rose wondered now how to get into Acquisitions. She wanted to get her hands on some of that fiscal data.

She had a nose for these things. The large numbers.didn’t scare her, they thrilled her. Sometimes gleaning information was more than reading reports; sometimes it was listening to the way executives talked.

And Dick White sounded scared.

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‘Liar,’ Jake said.

He grabbed her by the waist, pulled her to him, and kissed her. His mouth was on hers, his strong lips crushing her soft, full ones, his teeth raking over them, like he wanted to devour her. Waves of desire for Jake pulsed through her; Rose felt her hands come up, but they didn’t push him away; they curled gently against his collar. Traitors. She felt as though time had slowed down, and she was seeing everything through a blood-red mist. Her heart was thudding,

crashing against her chest, her palms were sweating. Oh, fuck. She wanted him so much she ached. lose’s brain tried to rein her in. It was that small part that let you know you were drunk when you were drunk, not that her control had ever slipped far enough to get drunk. P,.ight now, it was a small voice telling her to get out of Jake’s arms.

But she wasn’t listening. Her body was lifting to him, almost helplessly, pressing against him, so she knew he could feel the hot blood pooled in her belly, hear her heart racing …

Jake took a step back. Almost a step. He was struggling with himself. He wanted to rip her clothes off right there in the file room, but that was no good.

Control yourself, lothstein thought.

She excited him. Her resporses were profound, her mouth was soft and yielding, her pulse was light, fast.., she was so soft, so slight • . . he wanted to push her down on the floor and take her. But this was work. A public area. For a wild second, Jake considered dragging lose upstairs to his office, locking the door, and thrusting her over his desk …

But no. No. He breathed in, hard, forcing his blood to slow. Not for l

Jake snapped out of that pleasant fantasy and looked at Rose. She was panting, gulping little breaths, fighting to snap out of it. He saw

her pupils were slightly dilated, her plump lips parted just a touch. ‘You know how long I’ve been waiting to do that?’ he asked.

‘I’ve got some idea,’ P,,ose said. Then, enchantingly, she blushed. He couldn’t remember when he’d last seen a woman blush.

‘I want to take you out to dinner,’ Jake said.

Tm busy,’ Rose said instantly.

He chuckled. ‘No, you’re not. Or are you about to retreat back into pretending you don’t want anything to do with me? It’s really not going to fly, you know.’

She hesitated. Goddammit, he was right. If she turned him down now it would look real odd.

‘I meant I’m busy tonight … maybe later in the week.’

‘Friday night.’ His dark eyes drilled into her. ‘Come over to my place.’

‘Great,’ 1Rose said weakly.

Jake reached out and traced the line of her jaw, which almost made her knees buckle. Then he said, ‘See you then,’ and turned and left her.

Rose steadied herself, leaning against the filing cabinets. She had to get a grip. It was crazy, getting a crush on a Rothstein. This Rothstein, the crown prince, no less. She was here to crush him, not kiss him.

Never mind. I can lull him into a false sense of security, Rose told herself.

She wanted him. Badly. …

Disgusted with herself, Rose strode into the women’s bathrooID and splashed cold water on her neck.

Her pager buzzed against her side. Rose lifted it out and looked at the number.

It was nothing she recognised. She went into Maw-Beth’s office the coast was clear, she was probably in with P,.ichard White, leaning over his desk, giving him his schedule for the day in that fake,

breathy voice. Quickly, Rose lifted Maw-Beth’s phone and dialled. ‘Yeah?’

‘Somebody paged me.’

‘Who is this?’

‘This is Rose Fiorello. Who is this?’ Rose asked, but she already

knew. Her heart started to race again, but this time it wasn’t desire. ‘Don Salerni wants to see you.’ ‘I can be there after five-thirty ‘ ‘He wants to see you now, chickie.’

‘Right.’ Rose breathed in sharply. ‘Of course. I‘11-be right there.’ ‘Hurry up,’ the voice said, and hung up on her.

Rose hadn’t noticed Richard White’s office door opening. MaryBeth stood there, her face a picture of rage. Rose realised she was still holding the receiver in her hand.

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‘You aren’t allowed to answer my phones!’

‘It wasn’t an incoming call.’

MaryBeth’s lips tightened with pleasure. ‘You mean you were making an outgoing call on the company phone lines? Well! That’s a

dismissal offence for an intern. I’m gonna tell Mr White.’ R.ose smiled. ‘I wouldn’t, if I were you.’ ‘You’re not me.’

‘Not unless you want me to go to Jacob Rothstein about it. He asked me out. We’re having dinner on Friday night.’

MaryBeth’s face was a picture. Rose had to admit she enjoyed watching the emotions sweep across it. Disbelief, then envy, then fear.

‘I - I - might have been a little hasty. I guess it’s OK. Actually, it’s fine. No hard feelings, Rose?’

‘No hard feelings,’ Rose replied.

MaryBeth was still staring at her as though she’d just been told Rose had won the lottery.

‘Jacob never asks any of the girls at work out,’ she said. ‘Oh, my. You’re soooo lucky …’

‘Actually, I think he’s the lucky one,’ Rose said. ‘Will you tell Mr White I was taken sick with ‘a migraine? I’ll be back tomorrow.’

‘Oh sure thing, 1Lose, sure thing,’ MaryBeth said deferentially, but she couldn’t do a very good job of hiding her rage. Jacob the lucky one! Who the hell did this arrogant minx think she was? She glared at 1Lose’s retreating back. It just wasn’t fair! She, MaryBeth, had been making eyes at Jacob for ages, like every other girl around here, and this un-feminine harridan had managed to snag him instead.

MaryBeth stamped a high-heeled pump. Bitch! Jacob Rothstein must be a weirdo, that was about all there was to it.

Rose’s cab deposited her in front of Salerni’s brownstone fifteen minutes later. She hoped to heaven that was fast enough. Rose paid the guy, and grabbed a Kleenex out of her purse to wipe her sweating hands.

She hoped they meant her no harm.

Surely they meant her no harm.

It would be crazy of Salerni to do her this way. He could have had her jumped at any time, if he were really mad. She had no doubt at all that George Benham would have told them whatever they wanted to know. All her personal details.

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Her hand trembled on the restaurant doorknob. Maybe she should run.

No point, P, ose decided. If they were going to rub her out, they could find her wherever she went. She lifted her head. She was Paul Fiorello’s kid, not a coward.

She walked into the restaurant. Yep, same as before. There was Salerni, seated at his table, his goons around him, glasses of wine on the table. This time she didn’t go up to the bartender. She marched straight up to him; the conversation at the table died.

‘Don Salerni.’ Rose gave a slight bow, feeling awkward. At least

today she wasn’t in a T-shirt and jeans. ‘You summoned me.’ ‘That’s right,’ he said.

He drew a cigar out of an inner breast pocket and lit it up. Fragrant smoke curled up as he puffed at it, regarding her. Rose felt like an insect under a magnifying glass and wanted to scuttle back to the darkness, away from him.

‘I accept your offer,’ Salerni said.

‘You …’

It took her a second to get his meaning. Then a wave of

excitement swept across her.

‘ .

‘You’re going to let me buy the hotel?’

‘Subject to certain conditions, to which you will not object.’ Tit

was a statement, not a question. .”

‘Of course,’ Rose said, thrilled. ‘Thank you, Don Salerni … you will be very pleased with the results of this deal, I guarantee it …’

‘I’m sure I will,’ Salerni said. He seemed amused; his men chuckled. ‘You made me curious. I want to see for myself just how good you are.’

‘Oh, I’m good,’ Rose said confidently. ‘You won’t regret it.’

‘Well.’ Salerni puffed out smoke at her. ‘iF i do, you will. Now, sit down - Louis -‘

He made the slightest motion with his little finger, and one of the fat-bellied men sprang up and awkwardly pulled out his seat for P, ose. Nervously, she thanked him and slid into it as gracefully as she could.

‘Tell me about yourself,’ Salerni said. He leaned forward. ‘I want to know everything. And I do mean everything.

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Rose went to work early the next morning.

She got up at five. It was pitch black outside her windows, and desperately cold, but she hardly noticed. Rose tugged on her clothes and rushed out of her apartment, forgetting her gloves. The frozen air sent hundreds of tiny daggers into her skin, but she didn’t notice. Her heart was pumping blood, like a smuggler walking past customs.

This would be her last week. If she was going to destroy Rothstein, this was it; her last chance.

She had used her internship, studied well. Rose thought she had a wonderful overview of the company structure; she knew their weak spots. They didn’t consolidate,, and they were overpriced. Sure, the buildings were nice, but so were the competition’s.

From what Rose could work out, it was the perks that filled most of these buildings. Dick White and his leasing team were world-class ass-kissers. As long as Rothstein’s prices were market-comparable, he could get clients to take leases out by schmoozing the managers. Gifts, hookers, booze … probably drugs, she thought … everything was supplied. Lunches at Lutece and 2I, tins of caviar, a diamond ring for a wife, a high-class call girl.

None of it was listed on the balance sheets, but White wasn’t as discreet as he thought.

Now Rose had to get specific.

George Benham had received his phone call at 3 p.m. yesterday, after Salemi had done probing her. He was already rolling over her other properties. She was starting to think of them as chicken feed.

Rose had no doubt. This was it, right here. Everything she had built up was on the line.

This was her last week at Rothstein. She had to make it count. Rose stood outside of the revolving doors and pressed the nighttime bell. After a few seconds, the security guard appeared. Rose flashed her security pass, and he buzzed her in.

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‘It’s not even six a.m.,’ the guy said, looking at her approvingly. His professional caution was mitigated by the fact that the chick had a willowy figure and a great pair of tits. Damn, she looked like a model. He could hardly take his eyes off that tight little cashmere sweater she was wearing. Gawking at the secretaries here was one of his favourite job perks.

Rose pouted. ‘I know, but they want me to catch up on some filing … you know how it is.’

‘Absolutely,’ the guard said. ‘Just sign in at the desk.’

He wanted to see her butt when she bent over. Great pins, too. Man… he wished he were one of those fancy executives. What he wouldn’t give for just five minutes.