Mafia

In Cold Blood

There he is^ That's Sam... half naked... And one of the best Alt-J songs for this story.

  My job was fairly important, not the one I was currently doing, the one that was the rest of my life.

  The sound of hoarse voices came from a room to my right.

  "Mr. Walsh. Do you understand the importance of what you have started?"

  "No sir, obviously not sir," The man mumbled behind the closed door.

  I could feel the blood flowing from that room, it was the usual. I pushed my cart down the hallway ignoring it. I knew it wouldn't end well but neither would my life if I interfered. I went to one of the elevators and noticed two men standing guard just outside. I nodded to them and they pressed one of the buttons for me. Somehow sensing I needed to go back downstairs. They nodded to me as I got in.

  Another two men in sharp suits like the other two outside stood in the elevator talking to each other, both with red ties.

  I nodded to them as well and took my place in the corner with my tiny cart.

  "Alaric won't be joining us tonight," The taller man spoke with confidence, clearly in a high position.

  "Shame. You know how much value he is to us. Without his support, we might as well stay in this low life skyscraper," The smaller man paused and glanced at me. "No offense."

  "None taken," I nodded a little, I really wasn't offended. It wasn't terrible here, it was nicer than most of the casino resorts around. It paid remarkably well, but maybe not well enough for dealing with these people on a daily basis. It seemed like every day the mafia were bringing more of their men here. Maybe because my boss' brother was a distant member lost at sea with the others who disobeyed.

  When I got down to the bottom floor the men had already gotten off a few floors prior. I exited onto the show floor and made my way back to the kitchen where I had originally come from. I passed many blind civilians too busy in cards or alcohol to notice me, a simple employee. I was dressed like everyone else, a white button down and a sleek blue gray vest. The only thing distinguishing me was maybe my name tag or choice of bow tie or even the way I rolled up my sleeves all lazy like compared to the others. I had hoped for some distinguishing marks in such a typical place. Boss openly admitted he didn't care what I looked like as long as I was wearing clothes, preferably formal but he could care less. I was practically grandfathered into this position, any wrong doing was easily fixed.

  "Mikey! I'm back," I yelled as I entered the kitchen dropping off my cart just outside the main cooking area.

  "I told you not to call me that," Mike gave me a glare as he put his pencil behind his ear. He ripped a piece of paper from his notepad and handed it to me. "Room 306 wants alcohol."

  "Alcohol?" I raised an eyebrow. I looked at the list and scoffed. "There's like five bottles on here. You sure they don't want the whole case we just bought last week."

  "Well, they asked for a woman server. But since they're downing us five of our most expensive bottles and the only ones left! I'm sending you," Mike patted me on the back.

  "What does old Greg say about this," Greg was our wine sommelier

  "He laughed in my face. Now get on it."

  I shook my head and took my cart towards the wine racks. Making sure to be extra careful with which bottles I grabbed I sorted through the most expensive stuff. Only rich people bought this stuff, occasionally I would bartend for Mikey and I'd be damned if the person wasn't loaded when they asked for these types of wine. Usually if they wanted this much wine it was for a serious party and we would just cater it downstairs in the main venue. I grabbed the wine rather disgruntled and hurried back off to my elevator before the people started calling down here asking for their wine.