“Cappi, you take care of this.” Dante dismissed Phillip with a gesture. “Jesus, put some clothes on. You look like a girl.”

All three men looked on without comment as Phillip gathered his clothes. He’d have preferred going into the bathroom to dress in privacy, but he didn’t want to risk another round of verbal abuse. Three minutes later, Cappi, Nico, and Phillip traversed the hotel, bypassing the elevator in favor of the stairs. Phillip said, “Why can’t we take the elevator?”

Cappi stopped so fast, Phillip nearly stumbled into him. Cappi poked him in the chest with his index finger. “Let me tell you something. I’m in charge now, you got that? We do it by the book, no ifs, ands, or buts.”

“I didn’t hear him say we had to walk up.”

Cappi was in his face with his beefy breath. “You know what your problem is? You’re always thinking someone has to make an exception for you. Do it your way, on your terms. That’s not how it works. He says take you up. I’m taking you up. He wants to see how the car drives, okay? He wants to know what kind of shape it’s in. You say pristine, but we only have your word for it. All he knows, it’s a piece of shit.”

Phillip dropped the protest. Ten more minutes and this would all be over with. He’d cash in his four hundred dollars’ worth of chips and buy a bus ticket home. The two began to climb, Phillip clearly out of shape. After two flights he was winded. He had no idea how he’d explain what had happened to his car, but he’d deal with one problem at a time.

They reached the top level of the parking garage. While only six stories high, the night view was dramatic, lights as far as he could see. He spotted the Lady Luck two blocks over, the Four Queens across the street, so close he felt he could reach out and touch the sign. The lot was jammed with vehicles, but the Porsche stood out, gleaming red in the light, not a speck of dust on it. Cappi snapped his fingers. “Lemme see the keys.”