In Atlanta, Georgia, a skyscraper towers over the city. At the top, in the penthouse, a man lies in bed next to a beautiful woman. Slowly, the man opens his eyes, and stretches out, grunting as his shoulder pops audibly. He looks over at the woman, and kisses her cheek. She lets out a sigh of content, and snuggles up with her pillow, burying her face in it.
"Jack...it's too early..."
Her voice is a groan, but the man, known now as Jack, smiles anyway. He throws the covers away from his body, smirking as they fly off his wife as well. She squeals, and immediately grabs them, huddling up beneath them again. Jack laughs, and makes his way to the bathroom.
"You're a jerk, you know that?"
Jack smirks as he looks at his reflection in the mirror.
"Believe me, darlin'. I know."
Jack's voice has a strong , high-class southern accent. His tone is soft, calming almost, thick with the soothing drawl of the Mississippi. He rubs his eyes, and reaches blindly for his contact lenses. Cautiously, he removes them from the liquid solution, and places them ever so gently over his eyes. He blinks a few times, staring at himself in the mirror. Murky brown eyes stare back at him, the color seeming to swirl around his pupils. Thick brown hair sits atop his head, sticking out at every different angle, a result of a long night's sleep of tossing and turning. Jack wets his hand, running it through his hair, matting it down a bit. He stares at his reflection a moment longer, rubbing his rough cheek, where pale whiskers have started to grow.
"Well, I'll be damned."
Jack eyes his cabinet for a moment, but decides against it. He instead reaches for a container of pills by the faucet. He takes one last look at himself in the mirror, winking at his reflection before tossing two of the capsules down his throat. Behind him, his wife slinks in, wrapping her arms around his waist.
"Sleepless night, honey?"
Jack turns and kisses her.
"Now, don't you be worrying your little head about me. I'll be fine."
"I have to worry about you. It's what wives do."
Jack smiles, and holds out his arm, which she gladly takes, wrapping it around her shoulders. Jack catches their reflection in the mirror. Despite his line of work, Jackson Sinclair is no small man. He is in great shape, though his size is almost too big to be standing next to a woman so petite. At just over six feet tall, Sinclair dwarfs his wife, who measures nearly eight inches shorter. Jack kisses the top of her head.
"I'm a lucky man to have ya, Sofia."
Sofia smiles, and kisses him before stepping out of the bathroom. Jack takes one last look at himself in the mirror, pats down a loose strand of hair, and follows.
~~~~~~~~~~Later That Day~~~~~~~~~~
Jack sits at the table, looking over files and papers from his office.
"Honey, it's Sunday. Don't you ever stop working?"
Jack smiles.
"Time is money, sweetheart. You know that."
Sofia places a sandwich on a plate in front of him.
"Yeah? Well food is life, and if you want to keep up that physique of yours, you'll eat it."
Jack chuckles, and nods gratefully to his wife as he takes the sandwich. He looks down at the papers in front of him.
"Well now, looky here."
Sofia sits in Jack's lap, looking at the files.
"Hmm?"
Jack points to one sheet. In the top corner is a logo of a pyramid with an Egyptian-styled eye over it.
"Seems that ol' Ramsey's got his grimy little paws on the Salvaggio."
"I thought you were in talks with Tony about that?"
Jack frowns.
"That's what I thought, too."
He reaches for his phone, and punches in a number.
"You're not calling him?"
"Darlin', I rather had my heart set on the Salvaggio Casino. That was gonna be my little foothold in the Vegas market. Now, if Tony ain't interested in selling to me, I'm fixin' to figure out why. Can you excuse me?"
Sofia sighs, but slides off Jack's lap. She takes his plate before heading to the sink, dropping the dirty dishes in the sink. The maid would take care of them later.
"Hello?"
"Yes, Tony? This is Jackson Sinclair callin'."
"Mr. Sinclair. What can I do for you?"
Tony Salvaggio's surly New York accent comes through the earpiece. For a man who had spent the last twenty years in Vegas, the man had retained almost all of his east coast roots.
"Now, Tony, I was lookin' over these here numbers, and it says here you sold the Salvaggio Casino to Blake Ramsey."
"He offered me a good deal. It's simple business, Sinclair."
"Business? Son, we had ourselves a deal."
"Yeah? And Ramsey did me one better. That's business."
"I don't appreciate a man who goes back on an arrangement, Tony. Now, where I come from, a man's word is all he's got. You tell me, are you really prepared to go back on your word in the name of a quick buck?"
"That's how we do it in the east."
"Fair enough. I s'pose that's how the economy flows. I'm just givin' ya fair warnin', though, Tony. Blake Ramsey is a powerful man, but his time is rapidly comin' to a close. I'm just sayin' you might wanna reconsider which horse you put your money on."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"You do that. Now, while we're on the subject of real estate, are you still in possession of that property we discussed in Detroit?"
"That one's still open, Mr. Sinclair. You still looking to buy?"
"Absolutely I'm lookin'. Now don't you go sellin' that on me too, you got that boy? I got myself some big plans for that land."
"Nobody else is interested in it, Sinclair. It's worthless. Whatever you want to do with it, I it's a safe bet to say it'll go to you."
"That's what I like to hear, son. A safe bet is the only good kind there is."
"Spoken like a man whose never done business in Vegas."
Jack laughs.
"Well, it's always a pleasure doin' business with you, Salvaggio. You take care now."
"You too, Mr. Sinclair."
Sinclair hangs up. He rubs his eyes.
"Is it safe to come in?"
Sofia pokes her head into the kitchen door.
"Door's wide open, darlin'."
Sinclair leans back in his seat, allowing Sofia to retake her position on his lap. Jack's phone rings. He glances at the screen. Sofia groans.
"I'll come back."
Jack wraps his arm around Sofia's waist, holding her on his lap.
"I've been expecting this call for a while, sweetheart. Don't you worry, this won't take long."
He presses the answer button his his phone.
"I hope you have good news for me."
There's silence on the other end for a moment.
"Mr. Sinclair? I just got out of the trial."
"I can hear that. And?"
"Verdict is out. Jason Slade is guilty."
Subject: The Mysterious Mr. Sinclair 
Wed Jul 10, 2013 6:00 am
