Gio
I enjoy the f**k out of sitting in the corner of Michelangelo's and watching the business run. The waitstaff scurries around, throwing me nervous glances, probably feeling the burn of my gaze. They’re good at their jobs, though. I won’t come in and make a lot of changes. Not without observing how things run for the six months I have Michael on contract.
He didn’t want to give up his restaurant, especially with a no-compete clause so he can’t open a new one, but I made him a good offer and applied a tiny bit of pressure for good measure. Like mentioning everything I knew about his family. How his mother could use more help in Florida. And his daughter’s college bills were probably high.
He got the picture. I wanted him out. I had the cash to buy him out. And I’d appreciate his cooper
