Untitled Story Chapter 3 "So you're Eddie Martelli?" Martin said, disbelief still plain in his voice. The suited man across the room nodded.
"THE Eddie Martelli?" Another nod
Martin looked over at Lana. She shrugged. "I didn't let them in. I walked into the living room and here they were. They haven't touched anything," she added, "and Joseph's still sleeping."
"How'd you find out about me?" Martin asked, his brow furrowing, carelessly playing with the gun.
"Lewis here," Eddie motioned towards the man sitting on the couch, "took your snapshot the day you saved my daughter. He was very impressed with your prowess and sheer courage.
We know all about you, Martin," he continued, "we know you work as a TTC bus driver. We know you moved out of your parent's house after you graduated high school, forfeiting postsecondary education even though you had scholarships. We know you took in Svetlana when she was pregnant with Joseph, even though you're not the real father. We even know little Joseph is named after Stalin."
Martin shot a quizzical look at Lana at this last statement. She shrugged "He guessed it. I just confirmed."
Martin turned back to Eddie, continuing to play carelessly with the gun. "That's all well and good, but none of it explains why you chose to break into my apartment to talk to me. Seems a little extreme just to thank me for saving your daughter's life, doesn't it?"
Eddie laughed. "A flair for the dramatic is a useful asset in my line of work, Mr. Martin. But you're right, that wasn't the sole reason Lewis and I decided to visit you. Like I said," he continued, "Lewis was impressed by your prowess and sheer courage. And he's not a man who gets impressed easily. I, however, was more impressed with your ability to track and photograph a man who had been able to successfully elude even the federal authorities." Eddie shook the day-old newspaper he was holding in his hand. Splashed across the front was one of the pictures Martin had taken two nights ago in the alley. "You've done something quite extraordinary here."
"Can't be all that extraordinary," Martin responded, "if you were able to duplicate that with me."
"Ah yes, but I'm one of the most powerful figures in the North American underworld, with infinite resources at my disposal. You're a measly bus driver. There's a slight difference between us."
"What are you driving at?"
"Mr. Martin," Eddie leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, "how would you like to work for us?"

P.S: Let me know what y'all think of the new layout  ¶ 5:23 PM