“I know a thing or two about busting my ass to get where I am too. And how fiercely I want to protect that. While at the beginning, I’d been willing to play it fast and loose with Alen and his dirty money, the more successful I became, the more careful I wanted to be about that.”

“So you, what, hired someone to design a computer system that slips in the dirty money?”

“Technically, I hired someone to create a ‘training’ program of a legit program.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t want anyone knowing what I was into. Not even the programmer. So I had him code a ‘training’ program for new servers and bartenders to use when they are learning to use the computer to put in orders. It has a ‘trainer’ button to hit with each order.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“The button spits out a receipt that looks normal, but the one for the business has that ‘trainer’ button printout on it.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“Well, if you’d let me finish,” I said, tugging some of her hair playfully. “Once I got the program from him, I went over the code with a fine-tooth comb and found the trainer button. Then changed it on the business end to add on a shot. To every single order.”

“But—”

“To the servers and bartenders, the button supposedly just confirms that they checked for ID.”

“Wouldn’t it look suspicious, though, that every order has a shot?”

“I mean, it is a club. But no. Because if you’ve ever seen how busy bartenders are at a club, you’d know that some of the time, they are forgetting to hit that button. It is probably sixty-forty.”

“How much money could that clean, though?”

“If the club is reasonably busy, a hundred grand. Per club.”

“That’s not bad.”

“You need to clean more than that?” I asked, wondering how much money organized crime made. At the Italian mafia level. Because that limit was more than enough for Alen and his little drug empire.

“Maybe. I never talked abut the math with Renzo. We had time.”

“There’s also the cover charge,” I said. “Which is always cash-only. It’s very easy to manipulate that amount.”

“You’d be willing to do all of this?”

“For you? Yeah, darlin’, I’d be willing to do it.”

“What if, six weeks, months, years from now, we decide we hate each other?”

“Not possible.”

“Be rational. I’m not an easy woman to love. I’m hardly an easy woman to like.”

“Says who?”

“Oh, just about every man I’ve ever known.”

I raised our clasped hands, looking at our fingers.