Mafia Protection (Tomassi Series Book 1)

by AA Lee

  CHAPTER 12

  Ella grumbled as she picked her head up off her desk at work. Her hair scattered in disarray, making some loose papers fall to the floor as she dragged her body straight. She looked around, slightly disoriented with where she was. This was the fourth day in a row that she had done this, yet it was the first time she did not wake up until morning.

  Working was the only thing that seemed to keep her mind in check. Her father would not talk to her, and it had been several weeks since Angelo took her out. She was not sure what happened or why he suddenly lost interest. If it were not for the reports, she probably would not have seen him at all. Yet even with the paperwork, Ella only received a small glimpse of him through an open office door. It was not hard to understand why she worked so much. She found it difficult to stay in a completely silent house with no one to keep her company. Being alone all the time was not a good feeling to her.

  The clock on the wall showed half past seven. Ella panicked. That meant the delivery truck had been outside for thirty minutes, waiting for her to unlock the door. She could now clearly hear the banging on the back wall. It was probably what jarred her awake.

  She combed through her hair. Yesterday’s business suit would just have to do. There was no time for her to go back home now.

  “I’m coming,” she shouted and grabbed a full set of keys. She ran through the empty restaurant, through the kitchen, and to the back door. “I’m so sorry,” she said when she saw a man standing in front. “It has been a hectic week.”

  “Must have been,” he smiled. He had lovely blue eyes with wavy brown hair over his ears. Strands kept falling into his eyes. “Did you sleep here last night?” he asked.

  Ella let out a breath and gave a sheepish grin. “Yes, is it that noticeable?”

  The man chuckled and reached for Ella’s hair. “I don’t think I would have been able to tell except for these three paperclips.”

  Ella laughed. “That is one way to give myself away, isn’t it? You are new with the liquor company, aren’t you? My name is Ella Collins. Please come in.”

  “Caleb,” he said and pulled a blue dolly through the door. “Where would you like these crates set?”

  Ella took a breath and yawned. “I’m sorry. I just haven’t been able to sleep well lately. I would like those set by the piano in the dining room. Oh, and please set them away from the door.”

  He smiled at her. Caleb had such a nice smile and Ella found any smile she could get a welcomed one. “I would think that was common sense.”

  “Yes, but the last driver not only blocked the door, but he set one crate on top of the antique piano.”

  Caleb laughed. “I guess that is the reason he is no longer with the company.”

  Ella nodded in agreement. “If you need me, I’ll be picking the staples out of my clothes.” She smiled and walked away. Caleb was a nice man. She enjoyed their short chat, but for now, she had to go to her car. She had left a ream of copy paper in the back seat that she needed to print out Angelo’s reports.

  Ella exited the back door of the restaurant. Her car should have been the only vehicle besides the delivery truck that parked in the employee lot, but there was another car parked next to hers. Ella shrugged it off. It probably belonged to one of the employees who went out the night before. That would make sense.

  When Ella approached her car, she heard the window of the car next to her roll down. She spun around to see who was inside. One man sat behind the wheel and one sat in the passenger’s seat.

  “Good morning, Ella.”

  Ella stared at them a moment. She tried to match the faces and brown combed hair with anyone that used to visit her father. Yes, they looked familiar. She had seen them a couple of times when she passed by her father’s private office. No doubt, he knew about her strip club rendezvous, and they were here to deliver a message. Ella shook her head and waited. Her father had abandoned her. His words meant nothing to her after all this time.

  “May I help you?” she asked. Ella was displeased with their presence. They were also taking her time away from work.

  “Your father told us that we could find you here.”

  “Oh, did he?” Her eyes narrowed. “I’m surprised that he still keeps up with me.”

  “He said that you were seen with a man a few weeks ago. Robert wants you to stay away from Tomassi.”

  “Really,” said Ella. “You mean my father who fired me a few weeks ago?”

  “He had no choice in that. He was closing the doors on that particular building.”

  “I was told he downsized. Now you are saying that he closed the business. My father owns several other realty companies. As his daughter who worked very hard for her education and the position, he could have transferred me to one of them. Did the other employees get moved, or did they lose their jobs too?”

  “Well…” The man behind the wheel hesitated to answer.

  “That’s what I thought,” Ella mumbled. “What a fatherly thing to do to his own daughter.”

  The man behind the wheel shrugged. “We were not part of that decision.”

  “Will you please tell me the message?” Ella asked and slapped her arms across her chest.

  “He wants you to have no further contact with that man. That is the only message.”

  “Okay,” Ella smiled. “When you go back to Orlando, please give my father a message for me. That man owns the restaurant that I manage. If it were not for him, I would have no job at all. You can tell my father that the next time he has a message for me; he can deliver it in person. I’m done with having a mediator between us.” Ella stopped and thought. “Actually…wait a second.” She opened the door of her car and reached inside, grabbing a pen and napkin from the console; then she wrote down some numbers. “Give my new phone number to him and thank him for cutting off my phone. I really don’t want to see him any more than he wants to see me.”

  The men seemed taken aback by her words, but they did not question her either. The driver simply rolled up the window and turned the ignition back on. There was no further exchange between them.

  After they left the restaurant, Ella put her hand over her heart. She could not believe the message that she sent them to tell her father. If he showed up tomorrow, that would be the end of her. She would surely die of heart failure.

  Ella grabbed the copy paper and slammed the back door to her car. As if she did not worry about enough matters, Brett would be here any second to pick up the reports that were not ready. It would take her at least thirty minutes to customize the documents and print them out.

  “Ms. Collins.”

  Ella threw the copy paper to the ground and whirled to see Angelo a few feet away. Her heart was beating hard enough already. Even a soft voice would have startled her, but Angelo’s strong tone sent her into frenzy. He must have parked in the front and came looking for her with the front door still being locked.

  “I’m sorry. The reports are not printed,” she said and bent down to get the paper.

  “Who were the men who sped out of here?” he asked.

  “Nobody,” she answered. What was she going to tell him—her father wanted her to cut off all contact with him because her father’s two workers said so? How was that going to work?

  “Nobody,” he repeated. “Then what is your reason that the reports aren’t finished? I thought I made my need to see them clear.”

  “Yes, you did. I’m sorry. I have been working a lot lately and I meant to have them printed, but I fell asleep at my desk last night while I was in the middle of creating them.”

  “You slept here?” he asked. “That is dangerous.”

  “Yes, it won’t happen again. I have had a lot of work. I hired an assistant manager, replaced another cook, and found two new servers. The restaurant is staying busy. I will be happy to bring you the reports in a little while if that’s okay.”

  Angelo shook his head. “You open in an hour. Do whatever you need to do today; I will come this evenin
g for the reports. Will that work?”

  “Yes, thank you. I will have them ready for you then.”

  ***

  Shit, Angelo thought as he pulled into Santiago’s that night. Ella was beginning to make him crazy, and it did not matter how long he tried to avoid her. It was not logical to want Ella. Too many factors showed she was not a good match for him. He would take away her freedom. He would introduce her to a world that she knew nothing about. It also went against his father’s wishes. Marrying Gregorio’s daughter would certainly alleviate the tension between him and his father. Despite Angelo’s firm objection to the idea, he wanted his father to approve of his marriage. Even as much as they argued, he wanted to respect his father’s wishes. Still, there was one other problem that he could not ignore—he also wanted Ella.

  Angelo walked through the front entrance and up to the bar. He looked through their wine menu. He ordered an expensive glass of cabernet, noting the updates to the list. Ella had ordered wine for every type of guests’ tastes. The classical music that played over the intercom created a relaxing environment. He enjoyed the changes that she made. The restaurant now seemed more upscale than it had during his first visit.

  He gazed around at the guests in the dining area. They wore formal attire, enjoying their wine and appetizers. Two women were all smiles as they indulged on a shrimp cocktail delivered to their table. Angelo saw that his money had gone to a good cause. He never regretted his splurge.

  Where was Ella? He did tell her that he would come. She was usually prompt with what he expected. It was unusual that she was not waiting for him as she did the first time he arrived. Angelo stepped away from the bar and decided to hunt her down.

  Angelo walked to her office and found the door locked; then he went to the old piano and peeked inside the cellar—no Ella. He crossed his arms, careful to hold his glass of wine upright. He should have checked the patio first. Of course, she was there. That is where she waited for him before.

  When he exited onto the patio, he noticed Ella not waiting for him at all. She was sitting with a man in a dark navy suit who held his own glass of wine. Angelo felt displeased. He moved to the rail at the other end, turning his back to the ocean as he watched their interaction.

  Angelo tapped the metal bars beside him, contemplating whether to leave her alone or rip the man’s head from his neck. He decided on the former, knowing that he was probably jumping to conclusions, which was…until the man slipped a kiss onto her hand.

  His teeth clenched together at someone other than him touching her smooth hand; his eyes would not leave their spot. The man had the nerve to kiss what he already claimed for himself even if it was only in his thoughts. The gesture bothered Angelo immensely; every muscle in his body stiffened and every vein protruded. As much as he wanted to shoot the man dead, he refrained. He also was not going to stick around and watch some other man seduce her. Angelo chose simply to walk out.

  He had barely reached his Mercedes again when the sound of heels resonated behind him. He turned around, angered that she would come after him. If Ella knew he was there, she should have acknowledged him inside.

  “Mr. Tomassi.” Her voice was soft when she reached him. “I have the reports inside. Please, don’t leave.”

  “No, I don’t need them anymore.”

  “But I was trying to hurry with the new sommelier; the meeting just ran over.”

  It was the wine sommelier, Angelo thought. Ella should reconsider choosing someone who did not act professional. She should have recognized his seductive ways.

  “It was not like it looked. He was just being polite.”

  “You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Angelo said. “We aren’t dating.” His words came out as uncaring, matching the hardened expression that masked how he felt. He was too different from her. Being cold was what he did best. Ella would not be able to cope.

  “No.” She shook her head as sadness filled her eyes. “We are not.”

  Angelo could not make up his mind. One minute, he justified seeing her; the next, he found a reason to leave. He unlocked his car and slid inside, wasting no time in turning the key. He rolled down his window halfway and looked at her disappointed expression. “Good night, Ella.”

  “Good night, Mr. Tomassi,” she whispered.

  CHAPTER 13

  Ella glanced at the invitation with disbelief. Why would Angelo send her an invitation to the grand opening of Illusions when he barely spoke to her in the last six weeks? Did he secretly want to see her? Was it guilt? Maybe it meant nothing at all and he sent one to every business in the area. Ella could not overlook the possibility that it had nothing to do with her.

  She also would not pass up the opportunity to find out. Ella drove around one set of parked cars and then another. The club seemed filled with guests who were eager to discover what it offered. The building was impressive as it faced the ocean waves with its lustrous lights and large sign over the door with the name Illusions.

  After five minutes, she finally found one empty spot. With the car next to it parked over the yellow stripe, she guessed most cars passed it up. Ella was happy for her compact vehicle and pulled into the spot with ease.

  Squeezing out of the door was another issue. Ella carefully gathered the material of her long red dress and stepped out in a pair of clear-strapped heels. She had hoped there would be an occasion to wear her mother’s dress. Ella managed to snatch it before her father noticed it missing from the donation pile. It was one of the few items that remained of her mother.

  She handed her invitation to the attendant at the door. The place reeked of costly oak finishes, marbled pool tables, and exquisite lighting. There must have been mad amounts of money behind the company that Angelo worked for; they spared no expense for the large room. The chandelier looked like genuine crystal.

  Ella followed a couple of people to the side of the club. Her steps were deliberate and graceful; she was attentive to the stares she received but did not give them much thought at the same time. This club brought a much different crowd than the club in Miami had. She was more familiar with this type of clientele.

  The bar fascinated her with its gorgeous bottles placed perfectly within separate cubbies, and sparkling red and white wine glasses hung overhead. The warm lighting cast a pleasant glow off the bottles; the lovely shine reflected off the bar itself.

  “What will you have tonight?” a bartender asked. Despite there being a line of patrons, he seemed especially attentive to her.

  “A margarita sounds perfect. Please make it with that bottle of tequila on the top.”

  “Ice and salt?” the man asked. Ella nodded. While she waited, she noticed the old stairway that used to lead to the upper floors of the hotel. She wondered what Angelo created at the top of those stairs for the club. If the main floor was any indication of its potential, she could only imagine the splendor of the rest. Being in real estate, Ella smiled at the thought of seeing what his company designed.

  She took her margarita, walked past a set of restrooms, and started up the stairs beside them. With as high as the steps took her, she thought an elevator would have been more appropriate. At halfway, she passed a large tinted door. It must have been a room for the elite patrons. Ella really wanted to see what was on top and would check out that room another time.

  Breathtaking, she thought when she opened the door to the top of the club. She could see for miles from the marble bench where she sat. The rooftop view allowed her to see in almost every direction, making the view from her own front porch seem dull. The full moon shining down made the experience especially romantic.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Ella glanced at the door. Angelo looked more muscular and tan than she had noticed before; yet she could not think about how attractive she found him. By his distant expression and tone of his voice, he did not seem pleased to see her.

  “Well, I didn’t send myself an invitation,” she spoke. “And I didn’t sneak into th
e club either.”

  “Rafa,” he mumbled. Angelo seemed irritated as he turned around and looked at the door as though he needed to scold someone for the mishap.

  “Is there something wrong with me being here?” she asked as he sat down on the opposite end of the bench.

  “That depends.” He moved his foot over his left leg and leaned back, stretching his arm across the top.

  “I am not following your meaning, Mr. Tomassi.”

  “It depends on how deeply you actually want to get involved.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Do you like your freedom, Ella? Running the restaurant?”

  Ella let out a frustrated breath at his cryptic meaning and looked straight over at him. “Mr. Tomassi, how does my freedom or the restaurant have anything to do with what you are trying to tell me?”

  “Everything,” he said. “And for your happiness, it would be better if the connection between you and me remained strictly professional.”

  Angelo stood and threw the ice from his glass over the rail. He looked angry as he gave Ella another glance; his eyes lingered on her for seconds. His hand lifted as if to ask what she was still doing there. Then he shook his head and slammed the door behind him.

  Ella had no idea what just happened and held out her hands in defeat. He acted as if he liked her, and he acted as if he hated her. Ella wished that he had explained the situation a little more clearly. She was more confused now than before he came up. What was the problem?

  She kept thinking about Angelo all the way back downstairs. Even her interest in the VIP room disappeared. She needed an explanation from him. It was not that difficult.

  Ella stopped and smiled in thought. Angelo did not like her interview with Seth the one morning she came. He also asked about her father’s messengers when they drove away. Then he became enraged when he saw the wine sommelier kiss her hand. Angelo left her no choice. She would help him to make up his mind since he could not do it himself.

  ***