Page 20 of Trapped
Greg swallowed. “To borrow some money. Six thousand. No,eight.”
“Is it six or eight?”
He grimaced, shaking off something. “Eight.”
“What’s it for?”
“My restaurant’s floor is wrecked. We had a fire next door, and water flooded in from upstairs. Completely ruined the hardwood.”
“So file a claim with your insurance.”
“I did, but it’s not enough. I’m dealing with damage from street gangs. Spray-painted doors. Smashed windows. The other week, they stole our point-of-sale systems. It’s addin’ up.”
I sighed, well aware of the street gangs infesting Boston. The Animals. 12thStreet Gang. Mayhem. Some of them sawed catalytic converters out of cars and sold them. Others broke into small businesses, stealing everything that wasn’t nailed down.
“You should’ve paid us for protection.”
He flushed. “I can’t afford it.”
“Then quit.”
“I can’t, Mr. Costa. The restaurant’s been in my family for generations.”
“How will you pay me back?”
“As soon as I’m open, I’ll make what I owe you in a month. We’ve just been unlucky,” he mumbled, rotating the cap in his hands. “It’s been delay after delay. It took weeks for everything to dry, then supply chain issues. Now I’m burning cash just to keep my staff?—”
“What’s your restaurant?”
“Vito’s.”
Ah, the swanky steakhouse withGodfathervibes. Black leather booths. Jazz singers crooning into microphones. An exclusivedining room called The Cougar Room because it featured a real stuffed cougar. I’d been there a couple times. The food was all right.
“And you’ve been closed for how long?”
“Six months,” he said, his voice catching fire again. “But we’re one of the best restaurants in Boston. We’ll get back on our feet. I still have my employees.”
“Go to the bank. I’m your worst option.”
“Can’t, sir. They won’t approve me for a loan because I’ve already taken a second mortgage on my house.”
Idiot. “Risk-taker, huh?”
“I’ve gotta save the family business.”
I smiled indulgently. Greg was the kind of desperate fool I thrived on. Normally, I’d set him up, but there was no way he’d make the money back, and I didn’t feel like sending Kill’s crew to mop up this guy. Lending him capital might as well be flushing it down the drain.
Ididlike the idea of owning his property. Its location on Newbury Street gave it an ideal mixture of high foot traffic, retail establishments, and homes. Perfect for a luxury residential development.
I pretended to think it over. “Here’s what I’ll do for you, Greg. I’ll lend you the eight thousand, but it’s going to be at two points a week. You’ve got three months. And I’ll need collateral—your restaurant.”
A spasm of panic crossed his face.
I shrugged, giving him a harmless smile. “If you can’t pay, I take over the property. But if you can, you keep your legacy. That’s the best I can offer, given the circumstances.”
He bit his lip. “Okay.”
“Do we have a deal?”