The Escort

by Gina Robinson

  "You expect me to find a Stella Starr here?" Angelina asked, amused.

  "Gambino, show Angelina the clothing you carry."

  Gambino smiled. "Of course." He took her hand and patted it. "Back this way." He dropped her hand and led the way to the back of the store where he opened a door to a room no bigger than a closet. He switched on the light.

  "Mrs. Gambino's folly. She insisted I convert the storeroom for her. We cannot compete with the big clothing stores, but a woman must have an occupation. It keeps her from pecking at me."

  The room was lined with shelves stacked with shirtwaists and skirts, camisoles and hosiery. One shelf held an assortment of three or four hats. Against one wall was a rack filled with dresses and more skirts, all carefully arranged by color.

  "Look at this fine selection, Angelina." Tonio stepped into the closet room and gently fingered a folded shirtwaist of inexpensive lawn. "Pick out an outfit of the best." His tone was light. Angelina was sure he made fun of the inexpensive, factory made clothing Gambino's carried. He was used to much better, but to her it was a treasure room, though not, of course, the quality she'd jested of earlier.

  "If you wish to try something on to try out the size, just close the door. We won't disturb you." Gambino moved to the door and motioned Tonio to follow him. "Antonio, I must catch up with you. It has been a long time."

  "I was hoping to get to watch the show. Add my opinions," Tonio said. Gambino grabbed his arm and motioned toward the front of the store with his head.

  "I'll help Angelina." Maria let the men pass and moved into the room.

  "Come model for us when you've decided," Tonio said in parting. He followed Gambino and shut the door behind him.

  It took Angelina only minutes to make her decision. A hunter green skirt caught her eye. Maria teamed it with a white button front shirtwaist accented with thin, almost imperceptible gray lines in a fine gray plaid. It had a large bow at the neck that covered from neck to mid bosom. A small, stylish brimmed white felt hat with a tiny white bow completed the ensemble. "Signora Gambino has very good taste. What do you think, Maria?" Angelina primped in front of the full-length mirror.

  "You look lovely. Wearing that you could turn the head of any man you wanted."

  Angelina smiled as she untied the bow at her neck and began unbuttoning the dozens of tiny buttons that scooted up the front of the blouse. She felt light and wonderful. She'd never owned anything this pretty in her life. She was half afraid Tonio would refuse to buy it. "Let's hope I never have to get out of this in a hurry."

  "You're not going to model it for Tonio?"

  "No, I'll wear it on the train tomorrow."

  "He'll be angry. He gave you instructions."

  "Let him." Angelina smiled. "You know, I believe we picked the most expensive outfit in the store. What do you think?"

  "I believe you're right."

  "Let's tell Tonio that it's the only thing that fit, in case he gets stingy."

  "I don't believe, Angelina, that Tonio would ever be stingy with you."

  Tonio and Gambino were involved in conversation as Angelina approached from the clothes room. Tonio leaned on the counter. Gambino sat on a stool opposite him. Sal browsed through the wine and swigged from an open bottle as he looked for something more to whet his need for drink. Maria joined him. From the corner of her eye, Angelina saw him offer his wife the bottle. Tonio was too occupied to notice her approach.

  "Sebastiano is dead?" Gambino said. He looked suddenly old. His brown eyes no longer sparkled. "How can that be? He was in fine health last fall, when he came through after visiting you in Idaho."

  "Sebastiano was sick all winter. He caught the flu. It spread to his lungs. You know they were weak after all those years in the mines." Tonio sounded sympathetic but detached.

  "He was only sixty-three. Two years younger than me."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Why didn't he write and tell me of this? Why didn't you wire me of his death?"

  "It was only two weeks ago. I had a lot to do."

  "So much to do that you couldn't wire his best friend?"

  "I wanted to tell you in person. I planned all along on coming through Chicago and stopping by on my way out of town, but I found you tonight."

  Angelina couldn't see Tonio's face, his back was toward her, but Gambino looked stricken.

  "It wouldn't have done any good for you to lose business to go to New York for a funeral. It was very small. Just a few old friends. And me." Tonio flicked a piece of lint off his sleeve.

  Gambino reached out and gently touched his arm. "What's wrong between you and Sebastiano, eh?"

  "Nothing."

  "Perhaps you just grieve. He was always your friend, your rock, eh?" Gambino's fingers tightened around Tonio's arm. "He loved you Antonio, never forget that. He told me himself on many occasions. He was proud of you." Gambino's eyes narrowed. Angelina thought Tonio's back stiffened. "He was worried about you. Last fall when he came."

  "Sebastiano was always afraid I was going to blow myself up. Yet he, of all people, should have known my skill."

  Gambino looked speculative. "Oh, he knew. It was not the Hole that worried him. It was your friends."

  Tonio didn't respond.

  Gambino implored him with his eyes. "Sebastiano's gone now. I must stand in his place and tell you what he would have wanted. He doesn't like Mr. Baker. He fears you are tight with the wrong people, and that you are flirting with serious trouble. Don't do their dirty work Antonio. No matter how much money they offer you or how noble you feel the cause." The younger man was not heeding his warning. Gambino speared him with a look. "Or how exciting the assignment."

  Sal bumped a shelf. A bottle fell and crashed to the floor. Footsteps pattered on the second floor above them. Gambino leaned forward urgently to tell Tonio one more thing before he went for a mop. "You blow that mine up, you'll hang for it. You were his boy, Antonio. Don't disgrace him." Gambino's eyes held Tonio's. Angelina saw him clench his fist and imagined his jaw clenched as well.

  "I know, damn it. I know."

  "Don't blame him. They were in love." Gambino jumped down from his stool. He went for a mop and broom.

  Sal and Maria bent over the mess picking up the shards of broken glass. Angelina was setting her purchases on the counter when an angry woman, clad in nightclothes, stormed down the stairs from the second story. She waved a rifle at them unsteadily; its barrel was much too long for her, the gun too heavy to manage easily.

  "Stop right there." She leveled the rifle on Sal, squinting for a better view of him. "No one robs Gambino's."

  "Put the rifle down, Luisa." Gambino appeared from the back of the counter with mop in hand. "No one is robbing us. I opened up for one of my favorite customers."

  The woman lowered the gun to her side. She was younger than Gambino by probably thirty years. Perhaps his daughter, Angelina thought, though she looked nothing like him. She was short and heavily built with dark hair accented too strongly with henna. It glowed beneath the bulb over the stairs in an unnatural red halo. Luisa snorted. "Who deserves such treatment, Gambino?"

  Tonio turned and faced the stairs. The movement caught Luisa's attention. The moment she caught sight of him her look softened. "Tonio? Oh, how nice of you to visit us. Of course we are always open for you. What brings you here?" Her tone was suddenly sweet and flirtatious. She leaned the gun against the wall and descended the last step to ground level, intentionally letting her wrapper fall open to reveal heavy breasts thinly concealed beneath a gauzy gown. Angelina, who was only steps from Tonio, walked to him and looped her arm through his in a protective gesture.

  "Sebastiano is dead." It was Gambino who spoke. "Tonio came to tell me."

  "I'm sorry." Her voice was smooth, holding not the slightest trace of sympathy. She glared once at Angelina but did not halt her progress toward Tonio.

  "Go back upstairs, Luisa. This doesn't concern you." Gambino looked stricken.

  "Why? I'm allow
ed to offer Tonio condolences."

  "Stop acting like a tramp and go back upstairs. You're not dressed for company." Gambino's tone was authoritative.

  Luisa threw Gambino a look filled with hate, but she obeyed and retreated up the steps, pausing to invite Tonio for dinner. "You will come, won't you Tonio? We'll have a special meal to honor Sebastiano."

  "Go!" Gambino commanded before Tonio could respond.

  Luisa thumped up the stairs and out of sight.

  "You must forgive my wife." It took Angelina a moment to realize Gambino was speaking of the woman. "She is a mail-order bride. She is not happy here. It was a vain old man's attempt to recapture his youth, sending for her. How much happier I would have been with a settled woman my own age." He didn't have to sigh; the weary tone of his voice said everything.

  "Give Luisa my apologies. We can't come for dinner. Our train leaves in the morning." Tonio turned to Sal. "Grab some wine, Sal, and let's be off."

  Gambino cleaned the mess. Tonio settled the bill, not bothering to glance at Angelina's purchase. He seemed distracted. He paused only to confirm that Sal had enough wine for the evening.

  As they were leaving, Gambino handed Tonio a brown wrapped package. "Baccala," he said. "Salt cod."

  Tonio looked at him quizzically.

  "Because you couldn't come to dinner. Top it with some tomatoes. You have those in Idaho? Enjoy it some night when you come out of the Hole hungry. And think of this old man. Don't forget me now that Sebastiano is gone. You come see me." He hugged Tonio and they left.

  Sal and Tonio opened the wine as soon as they were out Gambino's door, each swigging from their own bottle as they walked toward home. Tonio swirled his in his mouth before swallowing, then rotated the bottle to read the label. "Pinot grigio."

  "I bought the best. It was on you."

  Tonio didn't laugh.

  "This reminds me of our railroad days. Late nights, a bottle." Sal tipped his bottle back for another drink.

  "We weren't drinking wine."

  "Ah, but we must respect the ladies present. We had no women on our arms then. We're better off tonight." Sal smiled at his wife. "Much better off."

  Sal reached over to nibble his wife's neck as they strolled. She grabbed the bottle and took a large drink. Tonio offered his bottle to Angelina, but she declined. Her hands were full of packages. Tonio didn't offer to help with them.

  Perhaps she was the only one who noticed, but Tonio's mood had changed. His jubilant sense of victory was gone and now his mood was somber, almost morose. His eyes were hard, and he wasn't drinking to celebrate but to forget.

  The steps to Sal and Maria's apartment were dark and dimly lit. The foursome sat at the bottom, too wound up from the evening to go in immediately, enjoying the night air and the stars for a moment. Sal and Maria sat a few steps behind Tonio and Angelina and nibbled and kissed each other. Angelina stared ahead, embarrassed. Tonio opened another bottle of wine and insisted she drink. The alcohol settled pleasantly on her senses, warming her in the cool night air.

  Angelina heard heavy breathing and sucking noises behind her. At last Maria excused herself and Sal, claiming they needed to make up the bed.

  "We'll give them fifteen minutes," Tonio said when they'd left. "That ought to be long enough." He wasn't talking about a bed being made.

  They sat in silence until the alcohol loosened her lips. Her earlier mood had not changed but was enhanced by the wine. She longed for the flirtatious intimacy of Sal and Maria.

  "Tonio, do you think I'm pretty?"

  "Reasonably so." He looked up at the stars visible between buildings.

  She frowned. "Only reasonably?"

  "I've known a great many very beautiful women in my time."

  "They were no prettier than me. They merely had the clothes to show them off to advantage."

  He turned to look at her and she smiled. There was a hint of amusement in his dark eyes.

  "I look very pretty in the new clothes you bought. Perhaps I'll show them to you sometime." There was a pause as she considered him. He was not in a mood for conversation. "Dorso thought I was very pretty. He said you could pick 'em, so I assume I compare favorably to past women in your life. I didn't tell him I wasn't yours."

  "What did you tell him?"

  She smiled in answer. "Were there a great many?"

  "What? Women?" He looked genuinely amused now. "Hundreds."

  They sat thigh to thigh. She leaned into him. "You must be a very good kisser or perhaps very bad. Do you know I've never been kissed? Except at carnevale."

  "I should hope not." His voice was tinged with humor, but he gave his tone the proper moral attitude.

  She ran her tongue around her lips and smiled.

  "Let's hope that Mr. Allessandro is an experienced kisser. That duty should be his."

  He'd ruined the mood, seemingly on purpose, intent on keeping her at arm's length. But he was right. She had no business flirting when she was already married.

  Curse it all! She didn't feel married. She was a young woman who hadn't had the chance to flirt. And now it seemed that opportunity was forever lost. "What a proper chaperone you are!" She started to rise. He grabbed her.

  "You want embarrassment, go upstairs now. Sal and Maria won't be finished yet."

  "What a vile mind you have. They're making the beds." She shook him off and stood.

  He rose with her. "They're making it in the bed. It doesn't take sophistication to have understood their message, believe me."

  She'd stood too fast. The world swayed and blurred before her eyes. She hadn't realized she'd drunk so much, or that the wine had affected her at all. She blinked. Tonio steadied her with a strong grip on her shoulders. "Are you all right?"

  "Fine." She stared him down. His eyes were dark and unreadable.

  "Good." His mouth came down on hers, hard and swift. They stood like a teepee, locked in a chaste, tongueless kiss. To her, an unsophisticated, naive girl, the kiss was reckless and wild. She stood with her hands to her sides so that all guilt at such an indiscretion would be his, her emotions reeling at such a simple act. She'd slap him when he released her. She had to, it was expected.

  But suddenly the game changed as Tonio exceeded the bounds. He bent at the knees to level the difference in their heights. Without releasing her mouth he pulled her close between his thighs and pressed her against him, wrapping his arms around her so that there was no escape. The chaste kiss ended as he pried her mouth open and ran his warm, wine-tinged tongue inside.

  His mouth covered hers completely and followed her head as she twisted to free herself from the passionate thrusting of his tongue. She wedged her hands between them, against his chest in an effort to push him away. At the same time he rocked against her with his pelvis. She felt him, warm and hard, pressed against her through the folds of her skirt. She tingled with unexpected pleasure and for a moment stopped her struggling. Then, more from fear than moral outrage, she twisted her mouth free.

  He didn't try to recover her mouth, but bent kissing her neck, sucking and nibbling as he made his way down to the top of her breasts, which heaved with something other than indignation.

  "Stop!" It was a feeble plea she didn't really mean.

  One hand worked its way from her waist to her breast, cupping it with his fingers and brushing the top with his thumb. "Sweet," he said. "Sweet."

  He'd gone too far. She'd gone too far. She wrenched free and ran up the steps. He called after her. "Chicken!" He was laughing. She banged into the building. Behind her, he swooped up her packages, and laughing, followed her up to the apartment.

  Maria, flushed and glowing, let her in. She was already dressed in nightclothes. Tonio came in moments later looking calm and unruffled. In the corner of the one-room apartment opposite the kitchen, a single bed was made and turned down for the night.

  "I'm sorry," Maria said, "we only have one bed. But won't it be fun, all of us sleeping together? Ladies in the middle, men on the edges.
Get your night things, Angelina. The bathroom is just down the hall. I'll show you." Maria winked at Tonio.

  Angelina grumbled as she went to get her traveling bag. Among the poor Italian peasantry where beds were a luxury, it was common practice for hosts to share the only bed in the house with guests and for everyone to sleep together. That didn't upset or surprise her. What bothered her was that she was fairly certain she wouldn't be sleeping next to Sal, and she was too distressed by Tonio to think of being near him again. She hadn't even slapped him. She grabbed her bag and stormed off after Maria.

  She couldn't sleep. Behind her Sal and Maria cuddled provocatively, comfortably intimate after years of marriage. Their familiarity forced her to turn and face Tonio, who, despite her strongest mental urgings, refused to roll over and face the wall. She studied him carefully, trying to analyze what she felt for him. It wasn't love. How could it be? Had she known him long enough for that? But it was something unfamiliar and exciting and wild, and totally irreconcilable to anything she'd felt before. His breathing was slow and even. He slept as if unaffected by her presence next to him. She frowned. That hadn't been the case earlier.

  She ran her hand lightly over his forearm, which rested exposed above the covers. It was so different from hers, covered with coarse hair and strong veins. She skimmed his upper arm, running lightly over the curves of his biceps, firm even in sleep. His breathing quickened. Intrigued, she ran her fingers over his cheek and lightly brushed a curl off his forehead, careful not to wake him. He breathed harder. She smiled in delight. She did have an effect on him.

  She scooted down in the covers and in a bold move lightly caressed his hip, anxiously listening for his responding breathing. Men were such a curiosity. She'd never been as physically close to any man as she was to Tonio at this minute. She remembered their earlier kiss and the hardness as he pressed against her.