Carmela spoke first. “Well, we all know why. He was a cokehead.”
Nobody said anything.
Rosalie opened her door and glared at all of them. “I said I need people I can rely on. Get to work!” She closed the door again, and everyone scattered.
Vito glanced over at Henry, who was busy chopping onions into perfect dice. “What? You taking Sammy’s place?” Vito hoped that wasn’t the case. If it was, Henry would be working next to him every night. Close. Shoulder to shoulder, almost. Vito didn’t know if he could bear the proximity. They would have to talk; they would have to get to know each other better. It was natural. And Vito was steadfast in not wanting to open that door.
It was different when Sammy worked next to him. Vito didn’t harbor secret desires for him. In fact, the guy was kind of repulsive. He always smelled bad—sweat and cigarettes.