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A guy gets back together with his ex.

"Who was that, where you goin'?" Kelly asked from the other side of Margo's sleeping form.

"Niccolo... he needs to talk... I'll be back... well, I'll be back when I'm back. Kisses and hugs."

"Hugs and kisses," Kelly said as she tucked her head back in close to Margo's shoulder.

Carol finished dressing and then went downstairs to catch a cab.

* * * * *

The lake had always been one of Tony's favorite places to go.

During the day, he'd walked the paths filled with bikers, skaters, joggers and power-walkers, soaking in the sheer exuberance of life as he strode along in his suit and tie, fedora perched jauntily atop his head, cane tapping briskly. At night he'd strolled those same trails, enjoying the evening and the cool breezes from the lake, not-so-secretly hoping that some 'young socialist', as he called them, was stupid enough to pick him for a wealth redistribution scheme. Between his own skills with a gun, and his boys, never too far away, no such attempt had ever come anywhere close to succeeding, and several potential life's of crime had been curtailed, one way or another.

He and Carol had gone there often, and they'd spent hours walking together or sitting on a bench, watching people while Tony made up stories about those they saw. They'd listen to the musicians, busking for people's spare change, and if Tony thought them any good at all, they'd receive a 'Juliana musician encouragement grant'... anywhere from a twenty to a couple of hundred's in their hat or instrument case. If they were really good, Tony'd give them one of his business cards with the address of a club owner or agent on the back, along with a note urging the aforementioned to 'give the kid a listen'.

His business cards read simply "Tony J. - Nosy Old Man", but such was his reputation among musicians all over town that no one ever doubted that what they'd been handed was a shot at their future, if they were smart enough not to fuck it up.

So when Nick had told Carol to meet him "at that big fountain where the nosy old man did his star-search thing", although it had taken a minute or two for her sleepy brain to put it all together, she'd no doubt exactly where he'd meant.

When she got out of her cab on Lakeshore Drive next to the fountain with its arc of benches on either side, one of Nick's men was already there, waiting on her. She took her hand off the straight razor in her pocket and walked over to him, waving at the taxi driver as he pulled away.

"He'll be back around in a few," the man said to her.

"Seems like he's becoming a shark," Carol said. "Never able to stop moving or he'll die."

The bodyguard looked down at her in surprise. "Yeah, there are very few places he can stop right now."

"And about to be fewer still, I'd imagine. Hi, I'm Carol," she said, thrusting her hand up towards the guard.

He smiled. "Izzy'," he replied, shaking her hand.

"Izzy? A member of the Family with the somewhat Jewish nickname of 'Izzy'? What, did your parents hate you?" she asked, smiling back at him.

"Nah, Mama was just on a biblical kick, named me Israel; Papa was out of town on business... by the time he got back it was a done deal. So I ended up with a choice, go by 'Israel', which got shortened to 'Izzy', or go by my middle name."

"Okay, must be some middle name... I'm almost afraid to ask."


"Oh I am so sorry..."

"Yeah, so am I... so it's 'Izzy'."

"Right, 'Izzy' it is. Did you ever get even with your mother for that?"

"Course I did... I didn't become no priest, did I?" he replied, grinning.

* * * * *

Fifteen minutes later she was in the back of Nick's car, sucking down a coffee from an all-night coffee bar and studying her host.

"Nick, what am I doing, riding around the city with you way too goddamn early in the morning?"

"I needed someone to talk to... I needed to talk to Tony, actually, but as he's no longer with us, I decided to talk with the person who knew him best."

"Surely your father or some of the other

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