Whatever you need...

"Of course." You say, feigning cheerfulness. "Anything for family, you know that, Georgie." You can just look the other way while Georgie does... whatever this really is, because it certainly isn't actually a reno job.
"Che bello ! I knew I could count on you. Marco!" Georgie snaps his fingers, and for the first time, you notice Marco, his driver, has been following you both. With black slacks and a silk shirt to go with his slicked back black hair, he looks every inch of Al Pacino in the Godfather, an association he's trying to foster, you suspect.
"Marco's going to be at the shop on Monday, and he'll handpick a crew. Two days, tops. I promise. And I won't forget it." He claps you on the shoulder. "Ah, madonna , I almost forgot, how's your family? You and Jenna still good?"
"Yeah, Georgie. Jenna's fine. Her sister's in town looking for a house with her husband, so they're staying with us for a few weeks."
"Nothin' better than family, Giacomo." he smiles. "I'll have to see if we can all get together while I'm in town. It'd be nice to see Jenna...and the family again."
You feel slime coat your brain. Yuck. This over-tanned, wrinkled old pervert.
"Sure thing, Georgie. We'll see."
"Alright, I'm going to hit a round. It's been a slice of heaven, ragazzo mio." He strolls away with his driver in tow.
You shudder. The last thing you want is to be seen out on the town with Giorgio Marzano. The FBI hasn't sniffed around the shop in ten years since Georgie's "retirement." You have no desire for them to start.

You climb into the Javelin, texting Kayla with the news.

Kayla: WHAT?!
Kayla: Thats BS James
Kayla: first you dont answer my calls now you want me to let some mook come in and mess with the schedules?
Kayla: off the books? what the fuck
James: Kayla stfu if you know whats good for you
James: Georgie owns 30% of FSC and if he wanted he could bounce your ass to the curb tomorrow
James: just let Georgie's guy do what he needs to do so they can get out of our hair
James: im not happy about it either, but i know better than to piss off Georgie
after a minute, she responds
Kayla: fine this is bullshit
Kayla: but whatever

You couldn't give a shit if she's pissed or not.
You head home, with the clock reading 1:50 pm. You're hungry, anxious and tired, and by now, it's likely that Jenna and Karen are home. You debate whether or not to tell Jenna about this as you pull into the driveway.