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nothing wrong with that Vivie, if you feel that is what you want to do, if you’re ready to go back to work; but really Vivie, you don’t have to rush into anything."
    "That’s not it, Michael. I was looking for the newspaper, you see, and I remembered you had it this morning so I thought perhaps you had taken it into your bedroom."
    Michael had his back to Vivie, standing at the bar pouring himself a drink.
    "Yes, go on."
    "So, anyway, I opened your bedroom door and looked around but didn’t see the newspaper anywhere. I started to close your door when I noticed your jacket lying on the chair. I went in and picked it up, I was going to hang it up for you."
    Michael continued to stand with his back to Vivie, knowing, yet fearing what she was about to say.
    "Michael, when I picked up your jacket, a gun fell out of your pocket. I picked it up, put it back into your jacket, and started to hang it in your closet. Michael, when I opened your closet I saw that your closet is full of guns, guns of all kinds. Please Michael, don’t be angry with me, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to snoop on you."
    Michael turned around to face Vivie, her face filled with fear, fear of him.
    "Vivie, don’t be afraid. You have no need to be afraid of me. There is something that I need to tell you, something that I should have told you long ago."
    “I’m not afraid of you Michael; I just don’t understand why a business man, such as yourself, would have a need for a closet for of guns. Dear God, Michael, I don’t even know what some of those things are.”
    Michael walked over to Vivie, took her in his arms, and embraced her tightly.  She did not know what Michael was about to tell her, but she did know that when he held her in his arms, he made he feel that everything was going to be okay.
    “Come sit with me, Vivie. When we met, you assumed that I was a business man, did you not?”
    “I did”.
    “Well, I am in business, or maybe I should say the business. The first night I came into the pub, the gentleman I was with, do you remember him?”
    “Yes, an Italian gentleman, if I remember correctly.”
    “Yes, that’s right. That man is my boss, so to speak. His name is Joseph De Luca and he heads a large organization in New York. I work for Mr. De Luca; however, I am not involved in the organization as a whole. What I do could be considered freelance work.”
    “Freelance, what does that mean?’
    “You see, while the assignments normally come from Joseph, I’m not actually a member of his organization.”
    “I’m sorry, Michael, I don’t understand what this has to do with the guns.”
    “I’m coming to that, Vivie. I think I had mentioned to you that I have a nickname, remember?”
    “Yes.”
    “Well, Joseph has a nickname too. Joseph is known as Joe the Banker. He’s also known as Don De Luca.”
    “Sweet Jesus. Michael, are you telling me that Joseph is part of the mafia?”
    “They don’t like that term, Vivie, they prefer the term “family”. But, to answer your question, yes. Joseph is one of the big bosses, a very important man. He took notice of me when I was just a young kid. He took me under his wing, which is very rare considering I was just a fresh Irish kid who thought I knew it all. Joseph has been very good to me over the years, Vivie. I owe him my very life.”
    “Michael, what is it exactly that you do for Joseph, and his family? You said you are not part of his organization, that you freelance. What kind of freelance work do you do for him?”
    Michael hesitated to continue, dropping his head.
    “Michael? What is it that you do?”
    Michael took Vivie by the hand and looked into her eyes, fearing it may be the last time he would be afforded the pleasure of the closeness he has shared with her.
    “Vivie, I’m a cleaner, a hit man…..a contract killer. I kill people for a living.”
    Vivie pulled her hand from Michael’s, a look of disbelief on her face.
    “No, this cannot be. You are not a