"So I was thinking," Angela Ricci said, sliding up to Jason's locker with that practiced smile she'd used on half the football team. "Prom's coming up in a few months, and I know it's early, but..."
Jason closed his locker and turned to face her. Angela was undeniably attractive—long dark hair, green eyes that seemed to sparkle when she laughed, the kind of curves that made teenage boys walk into walls. She'd been prom queen material since freshman year.
"You want to go with me."
"I mean, if you're interested." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I think we'd have fun together."
Jason studied her face. Angela Ricci asking him to prom would have been the highlight of his original high school career. But looking at her now, all he could see was her father.
Vincent "Vinny" Ricci. Not the bookie he'd just met, but Vincent Ricci Sr., capo in the Colombo crime family. Jason had spent three years building a racketeering case against him, watching surveillance footage of the man ordering hits, laundering money through construction companies, running protection rackets across half of Brooklyn.
The case had fallen apart when two key witnesses disappeared and a third changed his testimony. Ricci walked free, and six months later Jason found himself investigating Phoenix Global instead. But he remembered everything about Vincent Ricci—including the fact that his daughter Angela had no idea what her father really did for a living.
"I appreciate the offer, but I'm not really thinking about prom right now."
Angela's smile faltered. "Oh. Are you seeing someone else?"
"No, I'm just focused on other things."
"Like what?"
School. Family stuff. Staying away from daughters of men who order kneecaps broken.
"You know. Senior year stuff."
Angela looked confused. Three days ago, Jason DuPont had been nobody special. Now he'd beaten up three seniors and was turning down the prettiest girl in school.
"Maybe another time then?"
"Maybe."
As she walked away, Jason couldn't help but watch her go. In another life, maybe things could have been different. But he knew too much about her father's world to ever get involved with the Ricci family, no matter how attractive their daughter might be.
"Dude, did you just turn down Angela Ricci?" Marco appeared at his elbow, staring after her with his mouth hanging open.
"Yeah."
"Are you fucking insane? She's the hottest girl in school!"
"She's not my type."
"Not your type? Jason, she doesn't have a type. She IS the type."
Jason shouldered his backpack and started walking toward first period. "Come on, we're going to be late."
"I don't understand you anymore, man. First you beat up Brad Morrison, now you're turning down Angela Ricci. It's like you became a completely different person."
Marco wasn't wrong.
The weekend crawled by. Jason spent Saturday helping his mother with household chores and Sunday studying for upcoming tests, trying to maintain the appearance of a normal high school student. But Northwestern State versus Iowa kept circling back.
Monday morning arrived with gray skies and the promise of rain. Jason sat through his classes in a state of controlled anticipation, watching the clock and waiting for the afternoon. His teachers called on him as usual, and he answered their questions with the same calm competence he'd been displaying all week.
At lunch, Marco was practically bouncing in his seat.
"You seem really calm for someone who's about to find out if his tutoring gig is going to work out," Marco said, picking at his sandwich.
"Why wouldn't it work out?"
"I don't know, man. Rich kids can be weird. What if they don't like your teaching style? What if they complain to their parents?"
If only Marco knew what was really at stake.
"It'll be fine."
"You're so confident about everything lately. It's kind of freaking me out."
After school, Jason walked past the bus stop with Marco trailing behind him, bouncing a basketball he'd grabbed from his locker.
"I'm still trying to figure out why you turned down Angela. She's literally perfect. Rich, hot, popular—what more do you want?"
Jason kept walking. The game started at four o'clock.
"And did you see how she looked at you? Like you were some kind of mystery she wanted to solve. Half the guys in school would kill for that look."
Marco dribbled the ball between his legs as they walked. "Oh shit, speaking of mysteries, you fill out a bracket yet? March Madness starts today."
"Not yet."
"Dude, you're missing out. I got Duke winning it all. They're stacked this year. J.J. Redick's going to torch everyone from three-point range."
"What about the first round?"
"Most of it's chalk. Higher seeds win, lower seeds go home crying. Though there's always a few upsets." Marco spun the ball on his finger. "Like this Northwestern State versus Iowa game today. Iowa should win easy, but you never know with fifteen seeds. They got nothing to lose."
Jason smiled. "You think Iowa wins?"
"Six seed versus fifteen seed? Come on, man. Iowa's got better players, better coaching, more tournament experience. Northwestern State's just happy to be there."
"Want to make it interesting?"
Marco stopped dribbling. "Make what interesting?"
"The game. Northwestern State versus Iowa."
"Are you asking me to bet with you?"
"Just a friendly wager."
Marco stared at his best friend. "Don't tell me you actually bet money on this shit."
Jason kept walking.
"Jason. Jason! Did you bet money on college basketball?"
"Maybe."
"So the tutoring thing was a lie?"
"Yep."
"What the fuck, man? How much?"
"Enough."
"Enough? What does that mean? Like twenty bucks? Fifty?"
Jason didn't answer.
"More than fifty? Jason, where did you even get money to bet? And who takes bets from high school kids?"
"Basketball expert like you should know Northwestern State's got a shot."
"They got a shot like I got a shot at dating Halle Berry. Technically possible, but not happening in real life."
They reached Jason's building. Marco tucked the basketball under his arm.
"You coming up or what?"