Bobby Sinatra: In All the Wrong Places (The Rags to Romance Series Book 1)

by Mallory Monroe

  She’s still smiling. “I’m definitely wondering why.” Then her smile is gone, and that serious look returns, as if she suddenly knows the reason. “Is it because of that accident?” she’s asking me. “The repair costs are more than you thought, and you can’t cover it?”

  My heart aches she looks so serious. And about something I haven’t given a second thought to. “No, no,” I reassure her, and I find myself patting her small hand. “It’s not about that at all.”

  But as soon as I touch her, I notice a different look appears in her eyes. The sadness is still there, and the seriousness, too, but there’s also an awareness of me as a man. As a very virile, right-by-her-side, big-ass cock and all, man. And we keep eye contact. She doesn’t look away. This woman is no shrinking violet, and I like that.

  “I didn’t know you were here in town to stay,” I say to her. “I thought you were just passing through.” Given how I reacted to her, and offered to help her so easily for no sane reason, I was hoping she was just passing through.

  “No, I’m applying for a job here. If I get it, we plan to stay. Me and my son plan to stay.”

  “Ever been to Jericho before?” Maybe I’ve seen her around.

  “No, never,” she says. “My mother lives over in Porter and she told me about this place, and that they were doing interviews today, but I’d never heard of it before.” Then she smiles that sweet smile again. “I guess that’s not the best thing in the world to be telling the mayor of the town.”

  I laugh. “Don’t worry about it, honey. It doesn’t bother me. But that’s why you were calling me sir, isn’t it? Because somebody told you I was the mayor?”

  “Yes, sir.” She smiles again. “I mean yes.”

  “I thought I was looking like an old man to you, so that’s reassuring.”

  She laughs. “Nothing like that,” she says, and her eyes actually glances down at my chest. I want her to glance down at that package between my legs. I want her to touch it and rub it and pull that shit out so I can fuck her.

  But why did I have to go there? Why did I have to think about that? Now I’m paying attention to my real-ass erection again, and I’m tenting my pants. I am tenting my pants again. Motherfucker!

  She notices the distress in my eyes, or the lust, and seems to want no parts of either one. I’ve been nice to her, but she doesn’t know me like that, her eyes are saying. “I’d better get back to the interview room,” she says to me, and she’s not waiting for me to give her permission to leave either. She’s already sliding over on the bench seat, to get out.

  I stand up and let her out, but as she slides to the end of the seat, she’s suddenly eye-level with my pants. And she sees my erection. Stevie Wonder could have seen that shit. She now knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the mayor of a town she’d never heard of before has the fucking hots for her. And that’s probably why I singled her out. That’s probably why, in her mind, I helped her out. She gets in a hurry.

  When she stands up, I expect her to take off. Go jerk off in the bathroom, you creep, I halfway expect her to say. But she’s not that kind of girl either. She keeps it professional. She looks into my eyes. “Are you sure you can handle that repair bill?” she asks me. “You can always change your mind. I’ll understand.”

  I’m relieved she doesn’t appear to be holding my erection against me. But if she knew how little that car repair bill means to me, she’ll be astounded. “Thanks for your concern,” I say to her, “but I assure you, I got it. There will be no changing my mind.”

  She smiles. And I can tell she’s relieved. “Thanks,” she says. “Nice meeting you, mayor,” she adds, and then she’s out of here.

  And I realize, as I’m watching her leave again, that I don’t know her name. I didn’t even think to get her name! But why would I need her name? She’s not interested in me. I’m obviously not her type.

  I should feel relieved myself by that fact. I usually am. I just need to put that shit in perspective. I haven’t had sex in months, I’m sex-starved, and that’s all my attraction to her is about. She was a convenient outlet. Nothing more. Nothing less. Now I can go back to focusing on my upcoming campaign, my Laura problem, and Capecchi. I should be happy she gave me an out.

  But as I make my way back into the lobby, and head to Jenay’s office, happy is not the emotion I’m feeling. I glance at her as I walk across the lobby. Her long, slender legs are crossed and her face is, once again, buried in the paper she’s filling out, like I wasted her time and now she’s got to make up that lost time. The other ladies sitting around her glance at me, and then at her, like they’re wondering what’s going on between us.

  And it’s a good question. Because I’m wondering that very same thing. Because the fact that I’m disappointed that she’s not showing any interest in me is a first for me. When a woman seems dismissive of me, I normally don’t give a shit. I figure it’s her loss and I move the hell on.

  But as I glance at that woman again, I feel differently. I feel like it’s my loss, not hers, and just moving the hell on is going to be a problem. Because I’ve never taken a loss very well.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “I thought you had to be in Boston tonight,” Jenay says to me when I walk into her office.

  “I’m heading out now,” I say to her.

  “Boston? You’re going to Boston?” That’s Donnie, who followed me into Ma’s office. He’s the GM of the hotel, working under Ma, although he and our sister Ashley also have their own thing going with some gas station or something. Or is it a clothing store? I don’t keep up with those two. They start and stop some new project every other week. But he’s apparently back working with Ma to help finance their ventures. “What’s going on in Boston?”

  “It’s the opening day of the northeastern chapter of the conference of mayors,” I tell him. “I’m one of the keynote speakers tonight.”

  “You’re a keynote speaker? Not the mayor of New York or Los Angeles or Baltimore, but you?” He sounds stunned.

  “Los Angeles isn’t on the east coast, Donald,” Jenay says.

  “They want a small-town perspective,” I explain to him.

  “Oh! I thought so. With all those big-name mayors they could choose from, but they pick the mayor of Jericho? I knew something wasn’t right.”

  “I think it’s great,” Jenay says with a smile. “Wish I could be there to hear you.”

  “It’s not that serious, Ma,” I say with a smile of my own. But she’s always supportive. “I’ll be back tomorrow anyway. No biggie.” I’m talking like I’m not fazed by anything, and usually I’m not. But that girl’s still on my mind.

  “What brings you over here anyway?” Jenay asks me. “To say bon voyage?”

  “They only say that if you’re going on a cruise, Ma,” Donnie says, which isn’t necessarily true. Then he smiles at Jenay. “Got you back,” he says. “Tell me Los Angeles is not on the east coast. I know L.A. isn’t on the east coast. I was just using it as an example.”

  That’s Donnie. He can never let it go.

  “But really,” Jenay says to me, “what’s up? We’re always glad to be blessed with your presence, but why did you drop by?”

  “To tell you I was about to get on the road to Beantown, but also to give you some good news for a change.”

  “I could use some after this turnout.”

  “What’s wrong with the turnout?” I ask her. “Not enough people showed up?”

  Donnie look at me like I got a screw loose. “Not enough? Are you crazy?”

  “What’s wrong with the turnout?” I ask Ma again.

  She’s sitting behind her desk, and she and Donnie are going through the mountain of applications. “Here I am expecting twenty, maybe thirty people tops,” she says. “This is, after all, little Jericho. But what do I get? An avalanche of people!”

  “It might be little Jericho,” I remind her, “but it’s a recession too. People are desperate. Some probably came from far and wide.”
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  “They have,” Donnie says. “Here’s one application from somebody from Georgia.”

  “Damn.”

  “I wish I had more jobs to offer,” Jenay says. “But I only have ten. And some of those are contingent on that city council giving us the go-ahead on expansion.”

  “That’s the good news,” I say.

  Jenay and Donnie both look at me.

  “Go on,” Jenay says.

  “It’s a go,” I say. “I have three members willing to vote Present when the vote comes up, which means they will not have enough yes votes to past the amendment to stop expansion. You can hire away!”

  Jenay smiles. “Thanks, baby. You always come through in the end.”

  “But there’s a catch.”

  “Uh-oh,” Donnie says.

  “What’s the catch?” Jenay asks.

  “I need you and Pop to invite all three to your country club one evening. They’re newbies trying to break into the upscale things in town. I promised them you guys would be honored.”

  I can tell Jenay hates the idea. “I never go to that place myself,” she says. “They aren’t exactly thrilled to see the Sinatras show up. But yeah, I can do that. Getting your father to do it,” she adds, “is another story. But I’ll take’em.”

  I smile. “They just want to be there. I don’t think they care which one of you does the honors.”

  “Good. Thanks, Bobby!”

  “Sure thing. Now I’m out of here.”

  “Driving the Benz?”

  “Hell no. I’m not putting those miles on my car. I rented a ride.”

  “You just like driving different cars,” Donnie says. He would say something like that.

  “Love you, too,” I say to him sarcastically, Jenay tells me to be careful, and I turn to leave. But then I think of her again. I think of that girl. They’ll stay in town, she said, if she gets the job. “What positions are you filling today?” I ask Jenay.

  “Desk clerks and housekeepers,” Donnie answers for her. “Five each. Why?”

  “There’s an African-American lady sitting out there with all those whites on the left side of the lobby. What position is she applying for?”

  Donnie gives me a side-eyed look. He thinks I want to fuck every good-looking woman I lay eyes on, which isn’t true. “Why do you need to know that?” he asks me.

  “There’s only one black person on the clerk side?” Jenay asks Donnie.

  “Just one,” he says.

  Jenay shakes her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with this town. I don’t know why more of my people won’t apply for the clerk jobs. One black girl and no other person of color on that side. Dang.”

  “Find her application for me, Donnie,” I say to him.

  Donnie frowns at me. “Find her application? Why?”

  “Just do it.”

  “But why?”

  I give him a hard look. He knows not to play with me like that.

  “What’s her name?” he asks me.

  “I don’t know her name. Just look in the desk clerk stack. That’s the smallest stack. And then look for the applicant that checked African-American for race.”

  “Oh,” Donnie says as if he had no clue it could be that simple.

  Jenay stop going through applications and look at me. “Daddy told me about that girl,” she says.

  Suddenly I don’t know what to do with my hands. I place them in my pockets. “It was just a spur of the moment thing, that’s all. It looked like it was a bad wreck, so I just thought I’d help.”

  Jenay frowns. “A bad wreck?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Who was in a wreck?”

  Now I’m confused.

  Then Jenay asks: “Or is that the new jargon for knocking up a woman?”

  Donnie laughs.

  Now I’m really confused. Then I realize what girl she meant. “Oh, that! You mean the pregnancy.”

  “Of course, I mean the pregnancy! What else could I have meant? Is there another girl?”

  Donnie’s smiling. “Apparently this one,” he says as he finds the application and dangles it toward me.

  Jenay looks at me. “Are you okay? You’ve been working too hard, Bobby.”

  “I’m okay,” I say, although she’s right. “My people are investigating her claim,” he says. “We’ll see where it goes.”

  “Bobby a daddy,” Donnie’s saying, shaking his head. “That’ll be the day.”

  “Fuck you,” I say to Donnie, but Ma cuts it off before we get started. She’s not having that in her office.

  And she gives me that worried look Pop gave me.

  “I’m okay, Ma,” I say to her.

  “And if it’s true? If you are the father, what then?”

  I don’t know what then. I’ll take care of my child. I’ll try to be civil with the mother. I don’t know what then!

  I snatch the application from Donnie’s hand. “Black?” I ask him.

  “Yes, Bobby, geez. That’s who you told me to look for.”

  “Nobody asked for all that lip,” I say to him as I’m perusing the application. Her name’s Renita Hopson. Renita. Nothing spectacular about her qualifications. A GED. A lot of low-level jobs. Lots of plants closings and forced layoffs. Then I hand the application to Jenay. “Hire this one,” I say to her.

  Jenay accepts the application from me, but she’s puzzled. “And may I ask why?” she asks me.

  “She has integrity,” I say to her.

  Jenay looks at me as if she’s impressed. I’m not normally known as a champion of anything quite that pure. “Integrity?” she asks me.

  “Yeah.”

  Donnie’s grinning. “And here I am thinking she’s probably got a great ass,” he says.

  I wanna cuss his ass out, but I like the way Ma’s looking at me. I don’t want to let her down.

  “I’m out,” I say, instead, and just leave the office. I don’t even look back, or give Ma any more clarity about why I singled that girl out. Don’t even look at the girl I just gave a leg up to as I’m walking through the lobby. I did my bit. I stopped the council from getting in the way of Jenay’s dreams of expansion. And, on the spur of the moment, I got that girl a position most likely, if Jenay follows my advice, which I’m pretty sure she will. Now I just want to be left alone. Get on the road, drive to Boston, and just be left to my own devices.

  I get that way sometimes. Being exposed like that, in front of Donnie of all people, even in front of Renita Hopson, makes this one of those times.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The next day, in Boston, I pull up at a red light. Getting ready to head out of town after my keynote address last night at the conference of mayors. It went well. Not the most exciting speech – I’m not that kind of politician. But I had some good ideas. At least that’s what my colleagues were saying. Good ideas, they said. Boring speech, is what they really wanted to say.

  One mayor, a jealous asshole from way back, had the nerve to say that the only reason I got that keynote gig in the first place is because the female mayors like to look at me. I couldn’t believe that fucker said that. I would have preferred he told me I had snot running out of my nose during my entire presentation than to tell me something that denigrating. Eye fucking candy. That’s what he was saying. That I’m eye candy. There was a time I’d kick his ass on principle alone if he said something like that to me. But those days are gone. I did like my old man does and ignored his ass. But I still wanted to kick it.

  I planned to holler at my baby sister Carly while I was in town, but she’s out of town, herself, on business, and her old man, Trevor Reese, is tied up in meetings. He said he could move some things around to meet with me, but it’s not that serious. I told him I’ll see him and sis on my next trip down. And I’ll pre-warn them that I’m coming the next time, which made him laugh. So, now, I’m heading out.

  A car drives up beside mine, and stop at the light. I don’t pay it any attention at first. Although I’m still in Boston, I’m o
n the outskirts of Boston almost out of town and I figure he’s trying to get out too. But then I can see the window coming down, and that’s when I glance over.

  To my shock, my absolute shock, it’s a guy name Dance, a dude I used to run with. I hadn’t seen him in eleven years. I thought his ass was still in prison!

  After he killed Tyrell Jenkins, me and Gerard got out of the game. That shit spooked me for some reason, and I couldn’t get past it. I needed help to get out, major help from my uncle, but I got out. Then I hear how Dance and some of the other boys got into a tit for tat with a rival gang that same day they iced Ty, and they killed four more people. Just shot’em dead! I didn’t follow any trials or anything, but all of their asses, including the boss, ended up in prison behind that shit. Now Dance’s rolling up on me?

  “What’s up, Bobby B?”

  “What’s up with you?”

  “Chillin’.”

  The last thing his ass was doing was chillin’. “Good for you. The rest of us have to work.”

  “It’s been a long time.”

  “Eleven years.”

  “You haven’t changed a bit.”

  I couldn’t say the same about him. He looked like shit. Like a man who’d been caged up for many, many years, and still had the taint.

  “Why didn’t you help me out, Bobby?” he finally says to me.

  And I’m frowning now. “Help you out of what?”

  “Your ass got away. My ass got to rot in prison.”

  “Your ass killed four people. And you killed Tyrell too. What you thought was gonna happen to your ass?”

  “I thought you’d use your connections and get me out of that shit,” Dance says. “That’s what! We were supposed to be a family. Moby put your white ass in charge of all our black asses, and we were family. I thought your ass was down like that.”

  “My ass was down like that.”

  “Sure it was. You was all nigga this and nigga that when it didn’t matter. But as soon as you got a chance, you were white again. You were down with them again. And your white ass got out of Dodge faster than the Road Runner. You left our black asses behind.”