Jimmy adjusted the waistband of his pants again, shifting his g*n to a position where it couldn’t be seen.
“No good, O’Malley,” Gabby said. “I can still see it. Why don’t you take it off? It’s not like you’re going into a g*n fight.”
He grunted. He wasn’t going anywhere without his g*n. Untucking his shirt, he bloused it out. “Gonna have to do.”
The polo he wore still held the creases from being new. Gabby laughed about it. Like it was his fault he didn’t wear preppy clothes. He blamed the whole thing on Moira.
Thinking about her irritated him all over again. He knew she wouldn’t be able to keep her nose out of his business. The mayor sent a car to pick him up. He briefly wondered if this was one of those bills being passed on to the citizens of Chicago. He’d just as soon drive himself
