A Bookie's Odds

by Ursula Renee

  “You’re going to have to look up sometime.”

  She shook her head. “The only thing I have to do is stay black and die.”

  “Georgia, look at me.”

  She slowly turned from the adding machine to the man standing over her. Though the corners of his lips were turned down in a frown, his eyes danced with amusement.

  “You’ve got to be the most stubborn person I know. What am I going to do with you?”

  “Walk away and pretend you never saw me here?”

  Nicholas shook his head, and she saw her future at the diner quickly slipping away. Maybe she could talk him into letting her finish out the day before dragging her back home.

  “How’d you know I was here?”

  “The moment Pops said Uncle Joey wanted to hire you, I knew you’d take the job. I also knew you weren’t going to say anything to your father.”

  “Are you going to tell him?”

  “Of course not.” He reached out and brushed his fingers across her cheeks. “Though I don’t approve of you working here, I know how much this means to you.”

  Georgia reached up and grasped his hand. “Thank you.”

  She should have known Nicholas understood. He had always been supportive of her dreams, going so far as to give her a heads-up whenever he heard of a job opening.

  Georgia wondered if William would support her decision to work. Or was he looking for a woman who’d stand by his side, look good, and agree with everything he said?

  Nicholas held up the brown bag in his other hand.

  “Miss Yvonne’s?” she guessed.

  “Since you couldn’t go with me to get your favorite dish, I brought it to you. I figured we could celebrate your first job.”

  Georgia glanced up at the clock. It was after one; she had been working for over four hours. Though she had wanted to finish working on the receipts, her body begged her to take a break.

  “I need to use the facilities, first.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll get everything ready while you’re gone.”

  Georgia rolled back from the desk. Every joint south of her waist protested when she stood. Ignoring Nicholas’s chuckle, she shuffled out of the storage room to the kitchen.

  Aware of the concerns about her safety, Joseph had assured her the only way to get to the storage room was through the kitchen. At any given time, either he or his wife would have an eye on the door.

  “How’s it going?” Joey glanced up from the four hamburgers and two grilled cheese sandwiches on the grill.

  “I got a lot done this morning,” she replied. “I’m taking a quick break.”

  He glanced at the clock hanging over the window to the dining room. “You should’ve taken one before now. I don’t want my brother accusing me of overworking you.”

  “I’ll take my break at noon from now on.”

  “And another one at three?”

  “That’s not nec—” She abandoned her protest when he cocked an eyebrow. “Yes, sir,” she agreed, though she didn’t think it would be necessary.

  He nodded before turning back to the food.

  Georgia stepped through the swinging door into the dining room as the bells over the front door jingled. A couple stepped into the diner and stopped at the booth to the left of the door. They scanned the crowded dining room. Seeing no other seats available, they slid onto the blue, vinyl-covered benches on either side of the enamel table.

  She moved from behind the counter and headed into the women’s room. By the time she finished using the facilities and returned to her office, Nicholas had set up the food on top of the file cabinet.

  Georgia dropped into her chair and grabbed the container with callaloo and saltfish. He had remembered she preferred fried dumplings and plantains with her meal.

  “I also got you a root beer.” Using the back edge of the file cabinet, he popped the cap off the bottle before passing her the beverage.

  He held up his bottle of cola, and they tapped them together. Georgia took a swig. The sugary beverage was just the jolt her system needed. She polished off half the soda before placing the bottle on the cabinet.

  “So, is this everything you thought it’d be?”

  “Yes, except for…” She reached up and rubbed her neck.

  “Let me get that.”

  Nicholas moved behind her chair. Using his thumbs, he massaged the muscles in her neck. He slowly worked on the knots until she could move her head from side to side without pain.

  It was hard to believe the hands capable of leaving a person a bloody mess could also ease her aches. If he was that attentive to the women he was intimate with, it was no wonder there never seemed to be a shortage of those willing to go out with him.

  Georgia silently admonished herself for the inappropriate thoughts. Nicholas was a flirt, and she could not fall for his charms. Though she wanted to work, she would eventually marry. She could never see him settling down. All he could offer her was a few moments of pleasure, followed by days of loneliness while she waited for him to tire of his other women.

  Nicholas was a friend and only a friend.

  ****

  Georgia was a friend and only a friend.

  Nicholas silently repeated the mantra until it played like a skipping record in his brain. It did not matter how soft her skin felt beneath his fingertips or how excited he got from her soft sighs, nothing could happen between them.

  Georgia needed a nice, educated man, one who had a promising future ahead of him. A man who could offer her a peaceful and comfortable life. A man like the one she’d gone out with the previous day.

  Memories of the other man extinguished Nicholas’s excitement. He suddenly felt a tension in his shoulders and neck. He suspected nothing short of introducing his fist to the other man’s face would help.

  “Nicholas, your food’s getting cold.” Georgia reached up and touched his hand. “Sit down and eat.”

  “How do you feel?”

  “Better.” She patted his hand. “Now sit.”

  Her concern over his well-being warmed him. The women he went out with never showed any compassion. It was all about them and what they got out of the time they spent together.

  Nicholas sat cattycorner to Georgia and dug into his red beans and rice.

  “Why’d you stop by the bar yesterday?”

  He swallowed. “I figured your pops and I could hang for a bit.”

  She stared as him as if he’d lost his mind.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “I’d sooner believe you joined a monastery.”

  Nicholas’s head fell back as he howled with laughter.

  “Seriously, why’d you stop by?”

  “To talk,” he replied once he caught his breath.

  “I told you I was going on a date.”

  “No, you said you were going out with an acquaintance of your father.” He slumped back in his chair, extended his legs in front of him, and folded his hands behind his head. “An acquaintance of your father is the widow who lives across the street from you, not a man who turns the head of every woman in a room.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry I wasn’t clear. But what difference does it make anyway? I still wasn’t going to be home.”

  If he’d known she was on a date, he would not have stopped by and had the displeasure of meeting the other man. Of course, knowing she would not appreciate that answer, he replied, “I wouldn’t have interrupted your date.”

  Georgia leaned over her food and shoved a plantain in her mouth. Nicholas assumed the gesture meant she accepted his answer. If he ever decided to quit his current job, he could consider a career as a BS artist.

  “Do you plan to go out with him again?”

  She shrugged her shoulders as she continued eating.

  “Why not? He seemed like a decent guy.”

  “You’re starting to sound like Daddy. I’ll save you the trouble.” She held up a finger. “William is easy on the eye.” She ticked off another finger. “He’s a
lawyer.” A third finger went up. “The man is going places.” She slumped back in her chair and dropped her hands in her lap. “And he’s going to need a good woman by his side, so why shouldn’t that woman be me.”

  She had recited the list as if it had been repeated to her more than once. He would not have been surprised if her father had led the cheers. Not that he faulted the man. If he had a daughter, he’d try to steer her toward a successful man who had a bright future ahead of him.

  “What’s wrong?” Nicholas leaned forward and took her hand. “Talk to me.”

  “I don’t want to live Daddy’s dream—”

  “You want to live your own.”

  She slowly nodded her head, her eyes broadcasting her surprise.

  “I understand more than you realize.”

  “Then what can I do?”

  Nicholas shrugged his shoulders. He wished he had an answer for her.

  Aside from promising his wife that Celeste would marry a man with a legitimate career, his father had assured her Nicholas would earn an honest living. But, Nicholas was too strong-willed, and the man eventually had to accept that there was nothing he could do to about his son’s career choice.

  It had been easier for him to defy his father than it would be for her. The expectations were different for women than they were for men. It was unfair for her, as all Georgia was asking was the chance to use her brain. If it were in his power, he’d grant her wish.

  Chapter 7

  “Admit it. I was right.”

  Georgia rolled her eyes as she leaned against the black painted railing on the stoop.

  Her father shook his finger at her. “I saw that, young lady.”

  “I hope so. I wasn’t trying to hide it,” she replied.

  “You need to watch yourself. You’re gettin’ too sassy.”

  “That’s ’cause you’re gettin’ smug.”

  “I have a right to be smug.” He pointed toward the street, where William played stick ball with the neighborhood boys. “I was right.”

  Her father leaned back on the stoop, resting his elbows on the step behind him. The position pushed his chest out, not that it needed extra help; his arrogance did a good job of inflating his chest.

  Georgia turned back to the street. Her father had predicted William would get along well with children. The younger man proved the older one right when he rolled up his sleeves and organized the game.

  For the past week it had been obvious the men were on a mission to prove William was the best catch out there. Her father would crow about a positive trait he was certain the younger man possessed. The next day, William would appear and prove the man correct. Yet, despite his positive qualities, Georgia was not attracted to him.

  She had told herself they were still getting to know each other and it was too early for feelings to have developed. But when they were apart she did not look forward to their next meeting.

  William whistled and waved the boys to the side as a car turned the corner. With the children out of harm’s way, the vehicle cruised past.

  Georgia’s father stood and folded his arms over his chest. He scowled as Earl Washington stuck a hand out the back passenger window, pointed at her father, and mimicked discharging a gun.

  The car continued to the corner, then turned. Once it was out of sight, the boys ran back into the center of the street and resumed their game.

  “What was that about?” she asked.

  Her father stared at the empty corner. “Nothing for you to worry about,” he muttered as he sat back down.

  The answer was far from satisfactory for Georgia. Despite her father’s attempt to be a role model for the younger man, Earl had decided he preferred the streets over an honest living. Besides working for the local ace, he sold drugs out of his apartment. It was rumored that he ordered a hit on his landlord when the man threatened to evict him.

  “Billy told me he wants children.” Her father leaned back on the step. “Two boys and two girls.”

  Georgia wished her father would talk to her about any problems he had. Didn’t he understand anything affecting him would also affect her?

  His clenched jaw and the glare in his eyes said he either didn’t understand or he didn’t care. Either way, he was determined to shield her from his problems.

  Deciding she did not want to start an argument she would lose, Georgia conceded to the change in the topic.

  “What about what his wife wants? She’s the one who’s going to have to carry them.”

  “Don’t be silly. Every woman wants to have children. That’s all you and Celeste used to talk about.”

  No, that was all Celeste used to ramble on about. Georgia had yet to determine if she was willing to take the chance and felt it was unfair of any man to simply assume a woman wanted to put her body through those changes.

  “I’ve heard childbirth is rough. Why should a man assume the woman will just deal with it? What if she can’t?”

  “You’re not tellin’ me somethin’ I don’t know, girl.”

  Georgia father’s voice was filled with grief. His shoulders slumped, and he stared at the sidewalk. Though it had been twenty years, he still mourned his wife.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy.” She touched his arm.

  After a second, he sighed. “I know you are.” He patted her hand. “There are better facilities up here for women. Unlike the south, here she would have the help she needs if there were problems…regardless of her skin color.”

  “But still…”

  “You can’t let your mother’s death scare you. Celeste’s mother survived two births, only to be taken out by a sickness.”

  She remembered Nicholas telling her about the heartbreak of watching his mother get sicker and sicker from leukemia when he was six years old.

  “But you’re right,” he added. “A man and woman should discuss what they want before they get too involved. Nothin’ breeds resentment quicker than one half of the relationship demandin’ somethin’ from the other with no regards to her wants or needs. In the end, no one, not the husband, wife, or the children, will be happy.”

  Georgia wished her father had the same philosophy for a parent and child relationship. He never had problems making plans for her life. And, while she did not have a problem with going to college and getting a degree, she did not want to use her education to get a husband.

  A horn beeped. Georgia squinted against the setting sun at the familiar red convertible parking on the corner.

  “Celeste is home,” Nicholas shouted.

  “It’s about time,” Georgia mumbled as she rose.

  “You will not run to that boy.” Her father grabbed her wrist. “A gentleman would walk over to you.”

  “Daddy, that only applies to couples.” She slipped her arm from his hand. “Nicholas and I are friends, so this doesn’t count.” She leaned over and pecked her father on the cheek. “I’m sure you’ll tell William the news.”

  Georgia felt no qualms about leaving William, since they had not made any plans for the day. She had returned from the grocery store to find him organizing the stickball game and had only watched because her father insisted.

  She sprinted up the street. When she was halfway to the car, Nicholas leaned over and pushed open the passenger door. She slipped into the seat and had barely closed the door before he hit the gas.

  “When did she get home?”

  “Pops called me a half hour ago and said she was at the house.”

  “Thanks for stopping to get me.”

  “I knew you’d want to give Celeste a piece of your mind for all the worry she’s caused.”

  “We’ll be there a while. I’ve a lot to get off my chest.”

  Nicholas stopped at a red light and drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. Georgia stared at his scruffy cheeks and the dark circles under his eyes. Yes, he teased Celeste, but in the end he loved his sister and worried about her.

  The second the light turned to green, Nicholas leaned on his h
orn and shouted insults to the driver in the car in front of them. Then, instead of waiting for the vehicle to move, he darted into the opposite lane and passed it, swerving back into his lane seconds before an oncoming truck entered the intersection. Both of the unknown but endangered drivers honked their horns at such erratic driving.

  “Nick, slow down before you get into an accident. We can’t give Celeste what for if we’re dead.”

  He snorted. “I’ll haunt her if I have to.”

  “I’d prefer if I was breathing, not an apparition.”

  “Whatever.” He did not slow down. However, since he did not perform anymore foolish stunts, Georgia remained quiet for the rest of the drive.

  Nicholas squealed to a stop in front of the house next to his father’s, climbed over the front seat to the back, and hopped out onto the sidewalk. He held the door Georgia had swung open, then shoved it closed before following her to the brownstone.

  “We’re up here,” Mr. Santiano called from the living room.

  They raced up the steps to the parlor floor. Celeste sat on the blue sofa next to her partner in crime. A bruise on Gianni’s left cheek indicated he had already been introduced to Mr. Santiano’s fist.

  Nonna Sophie occupied a chair, her hand gripping the top of her cane. Mr. Santiano paced the length of the room. The tick in his jaw indicated it was taking all his strength not to further demonstrate his displeasure at the situation.

  “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

  “Please don’t be mad, Nicky.” Celeste jumped to her feet. She blocked her brother from reaching his friend. “We couldn’t think of any other way.”

  Gianni did not flinch or display any sign he was concerned about the outcome of Nicholas reaching him.

  “Sit down, Nick,” his father said. “It’s too late. There’s nothing we can do.”

  Nicholas’s face displayed the same confusion she felt. “Whaddaya mean, it’s too late?”

  “They’re married.”

  Celeste held up her left hand. A band similar to the friendship ring a boy had purchased from Woolworth’s for Georgia when they were in the eighth grade decorated her friend’s third finger.