Vinnie And Mauricio -

Carmine stared at Vinnie. Rocco looked at Joey. Joey shrugged.

Vinnie set the gun down and adjusted his glasses—thick, black-framed things that made him look like a retired accountant, which he was. “It’s not about the money, Mauricio. It’s the principle. He sold us a leaky rowboat and called it a ‘waterfront investment opportunity.’ I want my seven hundred dollars.”

Mauricio made a small squeaking noise.

He handed it over. Carmine read it. His licking stopped.

Vinnie stood up slowly. He didn’t reach for the gun. Instead, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. vinnie and mauricio

Carmine laughed—a real laugh this time—and gestured for his goons to leave. As the door swung shut, Mauricio collapsed into the folding chair, breathing like he’d run a marathon.

He patted his pocket. “Now let’s go get my fishing hat. It floats.” Carmine stared at Vinnie

“Seven hundred dollars is not worth our shins!”