Talk about blatant. As Mick took her hand and walked her across the sidewalk into the diner, the townspeople who happened to be walking by actually stopped walking and stared at them. It was the weirdest sight in the world to Roz. That was why she could never dream of living in a small town. Too intimate for her!
But when they entered the diner, the staring went to another dimension. The young lady behind the counter, and the even younger lady behind the cash register, both stood there as if they were looking at something most disagreeable. But Mick needed information, and since he remembered this town as a cold, unwelcoming place anyway, he endured it. He took Roz’s hand and walked up to them, hoping that they would at least answer his question, even though neither one of those women had the good manners to relinquish their stares.
“Good afternoon,” he said.
“What can I do for you?” the older lady asked.
“I wonder if either of you can tell me where I might be able to find Charles Sinatra.”
The lady frowned. “Charles Sinatra?” She looked from him to Roz, as if it was some kind of conspiracy, and then she looked back at Mick. “What you want with Big Daddy?”
Big Daddy? Roz was blown away by that name. Was this woman Charles Sinatra’s child? Was Mick talking to his very own niece?
But if he was, he didn’t acknowledge it. He, instead, became Mick again. “It’s none of your business what I want with him. Do you know where I can find him?”
“They must be some kin,” the younger woman said. “The same nasty attitude.”
Mick almost told that girl to go fuck herself, but Roz touched his arm before he could react. “Just get the information and let’s go,” she whispered to him.
Since Mick knew there would be no better place to ask, he settled back down. “Do you know where I might be able to find him?”
“You can find him where you can always find him,” the older of the two women said. “At his office.”
Roz wanted to roll her eyes herself. “Where might that be?” she asked the foolish lady.
The woman gave her a hard, dismissive look, then she looked back at Mick. And told him the location. Mick didn’t thank her, she didn’t deserve thanks, but he did turn to leave. But Mick, being Mick, turned back. “Next time you look at my lady that way,” he warned, “I’ll take those big-ass eyes of yours and shove them down your big-ass throat.”
The woman was stunned. She held her hand to her heart, seemingly disgusted by such language. But Roz smiled. It was what her rude ass deserved. And they left the diner.
“And you ask me why I left this backward shithole,” he said as they got back into the car.
“I’ll never ask again,” Roz said, and Mick actually managed to smile.
But his smile was completely gone by the time they drove the few blocks to a storefront office and saw Sinatra, Inc. written across the plate-glass window in semi-circled letterings.
“This is his office?” Roz asked as the Maserati stopped at the curb near the front of the building.
“Apparently,” Mick responded.
“I was expecting . . .”
“Something grand and bodacious?”
Roz smiled. “Yeah. Like you.”
Mick shook his head. “He’s nothing like me, so don’t think you’re going to find a clone of me. He doesn’t do grand. He keeps it simple and practical. But make no mistake about it: he’s a wealthy man. That much I do know. I haven’t kept up, but he has some reach.”
“Is he in your category?”
“No,” Mick responded. “Nowhere near it. But I’ll bet the farm he’s the richest man in this town.”
“That girl back there called him Big Daddy. Is that his nickname, or is she his daughter or something?”
Mick smiled. “Nickname. They started calling him that years ago. I only found out about it when I ran into some guy who used to live here too. But don’t get it twisted. It’s not any term of endearment by any means. He own half the town and they resent it, and he doesn’t put up with their bullshit. So they can’t stand his guts.”
Roz smiled. “He sounds a lot like you to me.”
Mick playfully reached over and pinched her inner thigh.
“Ouch!” she cried as he laughed and killed the engine. But within seconds his smile faded, and he had to take a moment, before he could manage to get out of the car.
Inside Sinatra, Inc., Faye McKinley, the clerk, worked quietly at her desk. It wasn’t until another clerk, Patsy Parner, came out of Charles’s office looking flustered, did they even notice the car outside.
“What did he say?” Faye asked her.
“He said no. He said it wasn’t fleshed out enough. I busted my ass to get this right, and he says it’s not fleshed out?”
Faye knew how much “ass busting” Patsy did on her so-called project, and it was next to nothing. “It needs work,” Faye said. “I told you that already. And you know he’s not going to just accept it because you threw it together.”
“I didn’t throw it together.”
“Yes, you did. You had a good idea about a daycare solution for the working mothers who rent his properties, but you didn’t consider everything there is to consider. Like who’s going to run this daycare, and who’s going to pay the people who run it. Those are major issues, Pats. I know what he likes, and he’s not going for that.”
“You sound like you’re his woman or something. I bet Miss Jenay wouldn’t like that.”
“Please. I’m not interested in that man like that. He’s just my boss. Nothing else.”
“Yeah, right,” Patsy said, and was about to plop down in the chair behind her desk when she looked out of the big window. “Dang,” she said. “Where did that come from?”
Faye looked at Patsy, wondering what in the world was she talking about, and then she looked where Patsy was looking. And she saw it too. “Wow. Nice car.”
Then Mick stepped out of the nice car. Patsy and Faye both smiled.
“You can have Big Daddy,” Patsy said. “I’ll take him!”
“He’s gorg, that’s for sure,” Faye agreed.
But when Mick walked around to the passenger side of the nice car, and opened the door for Roz, and Roz stepped out, Patsy frowned. “Who is that?”
“Could be his assistant or something,” Faye said. “He looks like a prosperous man. How should I know?”
“He looks like a big dick man,” Patsy said, “and I want in.”
Faye laughed. “If Mr. Sinatra hears you talking like that he’ll fire you on the spot. Besides, I’ve heard tell that Big Daddy’s dick is the biggest dick ever created, so this guy can forget it.”
Patsy laughed. “You are so stupid,” she said.
And Mick and Roz entered their world.
Faye smiled. “Hi,” she said jovially. “May I help you?”
“I’m looking for Charles Sinatra,” Mick said.
“Do you have an appointment?”
Mick looked around the place. “Do I need one?”
“Oh. Well, no, sir, I was just asking. Who may I say wishes to see him?”
Mick hesitated. The rubber was about to meet the road. “Mick Sinatra,” he said. “His brother.”
Faye and Patsy both were shocked. Neither were alive when Mick first left Jericho, but Faye had heard that he had an estranged brother. She stood up. “I’ll let him know that you’re here sir. . . I’ll be right back.”
Faye tried to walk unrushed to the office in the back, but she failed miserably. She was practically running.
She knocked one time and then walked in, closing the door behind her.
Charles “Big Daddy” Sinatra was leaned back behind his desk, rocking in his swivel chair, as he read over a contract to acquire the land near Hikeman’s Park. His oak-brown suit coat was haphazardly thrown over the back of his chair, but there was no doubt about his taste: he was elegantly clad in a brown dress shirt, brown and blue suspenders, and brown dress pants. His tie, a lighter brown and b
lue, rounded out the package.
Faye walked up to his desk. “Excuse me, sir, but there’s someone out front to see you.”
Charles had not looked up. “Did you see Patsy’s proposal?” he asked her.
“Yes, sir, I saw it.”
“What did you think?”
“I thought it wasn’t ready for prime time, and I told her so.”
Charles looked at her. “Yet you allowed her to bring that shit to me.”
Faye swallowed hard. “Well, yes, sir.”
“Whenever Ashley isn’t here, you’re in charge. You know that.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And since Ashley is on vacation, and will be for the next two weeks, that means you’re in charge. I promoted you to number two and allowed you to run my office staff so I wouldn’t have to worry about that staff. If they have a presentation, let them run it by you. If you don’t think it’s ready, don’t allow them to bring it to me. That’s how it works. Follow me?”
Faye nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Charles sat up straight and tossed the contract on his desk. “Who’s here to see me?” he asked.
Faye exhaled. “Your brother, sir.”
Charles’s every movement stopped. Even his heartbeat hesitated. It was as if he was suspended in time. He looked at Faye. “My what?”
“Your brother, sir. He says his name is Mick Sinatra and he’s your brother.”
Charles’s heart dropped. He hadn’t had a conversation with Michello in decades. And now he was here, in his office? He was here, in Jericho? Charles was stunned. He was flabbergasted. He was about to stand up, but the blood rushed to his head and he had to sit back down. His heart was now hammering.
He looked at Faye. “Give me a minute,” he said. “And then bring him back.”
“Yes, sir,” Faye responded and hurried back out front. She informed Mick that he would be with him in just a few minutes. “Have a seat, please,” she added.
Mick and Roz took a seat against the paneled wall of the small space. And Mick’s heart was hammering too. He saw Charles for a brief minute and from a long distance away, back in 2010, when Mick had to take care of their father situation. Other than that one encounter, they had not laid eyes on each other since Mick was a teenager. Now they were both grown men with grown children, and about to meet again. It was a tough situation for both of them.
Mick looked at Roz. She looked as nervous as he did. And he regretted that he didn’t wait until they were married before introducing her. She deserved to step out as his wife, not his fiancée. If this town was anything like he remembered, they weren’t going to believe they were engaged anyway. It was how they thought around here. They created a scenario with no basis in fact, and just believed it even in the face of a mountain of contradictions. They believed it anyway. Mick knew he had to do this, but that didn’t mean he was looking forward to doing it. For some strange reason seeing his big brother again felt like the hardest thing he ever had to do.
When Mick looked up again, Faye was hanging up her desk phone. She stood up. “You may come with me, sir,” she said.
Although Roz would have preferred to wait out front and let the brothers have their moment alone, Mick didn’t even consider it. He held her hand as if he was holding on for dear life, as if he was forcing her along. She squeezed his hand too, and leaned against him as they walked.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
When the door opened, and they walked in, Roz noticed how unpretentious the office was. Almost barren and singularly unimpressive. But Mick noticed the man in the office. His brother Charles. The years had been kind to him. He still had that rugged handsomeness that Mick remembered. And he still had that big, muscular, youthful frame. It was laughable to Mick to think that Charles’s nickname was Big Daddy. But now, as he stood behind his desk, as Mick remembered the parent role Charles had to assume for Mick and their sister when he was only thirteen years old, that name fit him like a glove.
And Mick decided to go with that. He smiled grandly as he and Roz headed toward the desk, his hand outstretched as he walked. “Hello there, Big Daddy! How the hell are you, man?”
Charles moved from around his desk to greet his younger brother, but he wasn’t quite sure how to react to all of this jovialness. His brother was a virtual stranger to him now, but Mick was never this upbeat. “How are you?” Charles asked. He knew it was his brother, just by those hard-edged eyes alone, but it was still a jolt.
And when they shook hands, instead of hugging, even Roz knew this was all wrong. They were both in denial and both were suppressing the hell out of their emotions. She wanted to say something, but she knew it would only make it worse. Some things spoke for themselves. She had to let it play itself out.
And within moments it did. Because as soon as Mick was about to remove his hand from his brother’s hand, Charles pulled him closer and gave him a big bear hug. Mick quickly embraced Charles too. And it wasn’t a simple embrace. They were moving closer and closer and holding each other tighter and tighter. Even their eyes were tightly shut.
When they stopped embracing, Roz noticed how they avoided each other’s eyes. She couldn’t tell what was going on with Charles, but she could tell Mick was misty-eyed. He even turned slightly away from his brother, and wiped one time.
Charles noticed it too. That was why he immediately turned his attention to Roz. “Are you with this guy?” he asked with a very charming smile.
Mick could have kicked himself for not introducing her right away. What was he thinking? He felt so unlike himself that he didn’t know how to behave. He placed his hand around Roz’s waist and pulled her up alongside him. She was content to be in the background, but Mick wasn’t about to allow it. “I want you to meet my fiancée, Rosalind Graham,” he said.
“Hello, Rosalind,” Charles said, shaking her hand.
Roz smiled. “Or Roz,” she said. “Mick is about the only person who consistently calls me Rosalind.”
“Well it’s certainly a pleasure to meet you, Roz. And she’s your fiancée?” Charles asked.
“She is,” Mick said.
Charles nodded his head. “Very good. Now I’m impressed.”
“My better half to be sure.”
“I know what you mean,” Charles agreed. “I have one too.”
Mick frowned. “You have what too?”
“A better half. A wife.”
“Oh.” Mick smiled. He waited to hear more about his wife, about his family, but Charles didn’t volunteer anything.
Roz had expected more too. It was a very awkward pause. Then she began to wonder if maybe what Mick said was true. Maybe this man did think of Mick as nothing more than a street corner thug who didn’t want him to have anything to do with his family.
“Have a seat,” Charles said as he motioned toward the chairs in front of his desk. “Both of you, please.”
“We aren’t interrupting anything?” Roz asked.
“Nothing at all,” Charles insisted. “But thank you for asking.”
Mick placed his hand in the small of Roz’s back and escorted her to one of the chairs. After she sat down and crossed her legs, Mick unzipped his bomber jacket and sat down too.
Charles sat on the front edge of his desk, with his long legs outstretched and his muscular arms folded. “You aren’t my little brother anymore,” he said as he stared at Mick. “You’re big as I am.”
“Almost,” Mick replied.
“You’ve been taking good care of yourself, I see.”
“I do what I can.”
Charles continued to stare at Mick with eyes that had such sadness in them to Roz.
“What about you?” Mick asked. “I hear you practically own this entire town.”
“That’s what some people in this town would have you believe. But I own a portion. A sizeable portion. But not all by any means.”
“Hasn’t changed much around here, has it?”
“Not much.”
“I always thought of thi
s town as a gossipy, uninvitingly cold place, and it still feels that way.”
“It has that element. But it can be warm and welcoming too if you give it a chance.”
Mick grinned and nodded his head. “I gave it a chance. Then got the hell out.”
“And never came back.”
“I came back once,” Mick said, and he and Charles exchanged a glance.
They both remembered the time Mick returned to town for the sole purpose of insuring that their father’s release from prison and newfound freedom was short-lived. And thanks to Mick it was as short as a matter of minutes. Charles saw him briefly on that day, as he completed his task and was about to drive away, and he nodded at him. But Charles felt like a hypocrite that day. He allowed justice to be served outside of the judicial system. Street justice. But he did not regret his support.
“So what’s the deal?” Charles asked his brother. “You guys were passing through, or what?”
“Yeah, we were just . . .” Mick wanted to lie. He wanted to claim it was all a chance encounter and he was ready to move on. It was obvious to him that Charles wasn’t at all comfortable with this little get together. But lying would defeat the entire purpose. They didn’t come all this way to turn back around. “Actually, no,” he admitted. Then he looked his brother dead in the eye. “I came to see you.”
It was a tough admission for Mick, and Roz knew it. It took all he had to say something like that. And from the look on his brother’s face, a look that bordered on alarm, she understood Mick’s hesitancy.
“Me?” Charles asked. “You came to see me?”
Mick nodded. “It’s been such a long time. I thought we were overdue.”
A look came across Charles’s handsome face that was hard to read. It seemed nostalgia mixed with a lot of guilt and regret. And some skepticism too. “But why?” he asked. “And why now?”
Mick didn’t have to think long. “I fell in love,” he said, taking Roz’s hand. “I’m trying to do the right thing.”
Charles stared at him. It was a brief stare, but years of emotions swept across his face. “So you’re telling me you’re no longer doing any of the bad stuff?”
Mick Sinatra 2: Love, Lies, and Jericho Page 13
