A Bookie's Odds
Page 9
“You broke your word,” Joey mumbled. “You promised you’d take lunch at noon. It’s after two.”
Georgia looked at the clock. Sure enough, she had been pounding away at the machine for five hours.
“I’m sorry.”
She slumped back in the chair. Without Nicholas walking in with food, she had lost track of time. Of course, the only one she had to blame for his absence was herself. What else could she have expected after she said Gianni was not good enough for Celeste? That Nicholas would turn his back on his friend for her?
“What’s going on?”
Though she wanted to talk, she realized the outcome could go one of two ways. Joey would take her suspicions about Gianni into consideration, or he could resent her accusations. If the former, what could he do? Celeste and Gianni were already married. However, there was no doubt in her mind what he would do if the latter occurred. She’d be out of a job.
Georgia shook her head. “It’s nothing.”
“Young people. Why you never want to talk to us old folks? You think we won’t understand?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just something I need to work out on my own.”
He patted her shoulder. “You ever want to talk, you let me know.”
She forced a small grin on her face as she nodded.
“Good. Now go get cleaned up for lunch.”
Joey waited until Georgia stood and stepped back before returning the adding machine to the desk.
She slowly walked out of the storage room, trying to work the stiffness from her legs. With Nicholas not speaking to her, she would have to find another way to keep time under control. She could not have Joey telling her when it was time for a break. He was too busy preparing the orders for the lunch crowd.
As she took care of her needs, she figured a half hour break was all she would need. She could then work the rest of the afternoon and finish a little after four. If she left then, and traffic was good, she would make it home just after five-thirty, the same time she would have arrived if Nicholas drove her.
Georgia’s stomach growled, spurring her to hurry up in the bathroom. After washing her hands, she stepped back into the dining room. She stopped short and stared at the man behind the counter removing money from the register.
“What are you doing?”
Joey’s youngest son peered over his shoulder. Beads of sweat covered his forehead. His lids drooped over glassy eyes. A cast covered his right arm, which Nicholas had broken two weeks earlier.
His lip curled back, and he sneered at her. “Mind your own damn business.” His left hand shook as he shoved cash into his pants pocket.
Georgia rushed behind the counter. “I’m not going to let you do this.”
“Screw you.” He shoved her aside.
Though he was larger than she, Georgia refused to stand by and watch the man steal from her employer. With both hands, she pushed him away from the register.
He stumbled back several steps before he caught himself. The glint in his eyes said nothing was going to stand in the way of his prize. Georgia refused to back down, but her determination was no match against his strength. With his good hand he shoved her against the wall with such force it upset the clock over their heads.
The edge of the timepiece struck the man on the head on its way to the floor. He shook off the blow as if he had been hit with a pillow. Georgia barely heard the crash against the linoleum over the sound of her racing heart.
The dining room was empty, and there was no one to help her as he pressed his cast against her throat. She suddenly realized how desperate the man was. He was willing to hurt her—possibly kill her—to get what he wanted.
She reached toward the small counter beneath the kitchen window for a weapon. Her fingertips brushed against the chrome napkin dispenser, but the smooth surface made it impossible for her to get a grip on it.
The cast pressed harder against her throat. It became harder to breathe. As her focus began to fade, she heard a roar. A second later, the arm was ripped away from her throat.
Georgia closed her eyes and coughed. When she opened her eyes, she was staring at Joey’s wide back.
“You got it all wrong,” the young man shouted. “I saw her take money from the register. I was trying to stop her.”
Joey did not verbally respond to the accusation. He reached into his son’s pocket and pulled out the twenties that had been sticking out. He tossed the money behind him.
Georgia heard the sound of a fist smacking a face. It was followed by the thud of a body hitting the floor.
Joey spun around. “Are you okay?”
Her hand rose to her throat.
“Go in the kitchen.”
Walking backwards, Georgia stepped out of the main room. She jumped at the sound of a body being slammed against the wall. A blubbering voice stumbled over another excuse. He was interrupted by a bellow.
The rage she heard from her employer sent her scurrying back to her office. Georgia dropped into her chair, braced her elbows on the desk, and covered her face with her hands.
She shook at the thought of what would have happened if Joey had not come out when he did. For the first time she wondered if she had done the right thing, taking this job. Everyone, including herself, had worried about the patrons who frequented the gaming rooms in the basement level. No one considered what could happen if Joey’s son returned. They assumed a beating from Nicholas would be enough to deter him from trying anything else.
Georgia jumped as a hand touched her shoulder. Joey stepped back, his hands up indicating he would not hurt her. His eyes reflected his sadness.
“I’m sorry, Joey.”
“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. If anything, I should be apologizing for not looking out for you.”
“But you couldn’t have known.”
“Yes, I did.” His shoulders drooped. “He’s on drugs. I’ve known it for years. I’ve just been denying it.”
“But how…why…”
It made no sense. Joey was a good man. Except for the gambling hall in the basement of the diner, he was not involved in any illegal activity. His children had a good home, went to nice schools, and got everything they wanted.
He plopped onto her guest chair. “There’s no rhyme or reason why some people mess with that junk. None of my others bothered with it, and I gave him the same things I gave them.” He pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket and dropped it on the desk.
“What’s this?”
“I figured, after that, you’d want your pay so you could get out of here.”
Georgia pushed the money back toward him. She could not quit her job. There was no telling if she’d ever get another one. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay.”
Joey watched her for a minute before he took the money. “Wait here.” He got up and walked out of the room. Georgia heard movement in the kitchen. He returned in less than a minute, carrying a handgun small enough to fit in her purse.
“Do you know how to use this?”
She nodded as she reached for the piece. Eight years earlier, her cousins had taught her how to handle a weapon, when she visited their farm in the state she had been named after.
“As long as you work here, I want you to carry this.”
Georgia knew every other man in her life would disapprove of her possessing a gun. As far as they were concerned, her protection was their concern. However, if she was going to prove she was capable of handling herself in the workplace, she could not expect them to save her at every turn.
****
Nicholas glanced at his watch. It was time for him to buy a new one. Though the second hand was moving from one number to the next, it was doing so much too slowly for his tastes.
Once the papers had been signed and the books were reviewed, Nicholas’s father insisted on introducing Gianni to the staff. Yet instead of asking everyone to gather in the dining room to hear one general announcement, the older man walked Gianni around to mee
t with each person. He assured everyone the change in ownership would have no impact on the business.
Once the staff had been informed of the change, the three men had a late lunch at a deli around the corner from the club.
“You’ve somewhere more important you need to be?” his father asked as they stepped out of the restaurant.
“Yes, I do.”
Nicholas glanced up. His father’s frown said he did not appreciate the honest answer.
“You young people have no respect.” The older man shook his head. “You might as well take off. You’re not paying attention to me anyway.”
“I’ll meet up with you tomorrow,” Nicholas told his father, then slapped Gianni on the shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
He hurried back to his car. He waved to Alton, who was outside overseeing the preparations for that evening. The red carpet had been vacuumed and laid out, the awning cleared of debris, and the potted flowers on either side of the door had been watered and pruned.
Nothing escaped Alton’s attention. He put himself in the customers’ shoes, anticipating their likes and dislikes. He offered the former from the moment the patrons approached the venue and corrected the latter before they came to anyone else’s attention.
Gianni was taking on a big responsibility. However, with Alton’s help, Nicholas was certain his friend would not have a problem learning the ropes.
After an uneventful drive back to the diner, Nicholas strolled into the kitchen. His aunt glanced up from where she was preparing a grilled cheese sandwich. He kissed her on the cheek before swiping a French fry draining in the fryer basket.
The theft earned him a slap on the back of his hand. However, it was not enough to teach him a lesson. He grabbed another French fry before he headed down the hall to the storage room. He stopped short at the alcove, where his uncle sat at the desk, frowning at the two neat stacks of receipts in the center of the desk.
“Where’s Georgia?”
“I sent her home.”
“What…why?” Nicholas hoped their disagreement had not affected her performance. He was ready to plead for her job if necessary.
The older man opened his mouth, but stopped as if he had to think about his next words. After a few seconds, he shook his head. “She worked too hard.”
The explanation was believable. When she was younger, Georgia refused to take breaks until her homework was completed. He was certain she had the same commitment to her job. She would not leave anything undone unless forced to.
However, the man’s inability to look him in the eye made Nicholas suspect something more was going on. Certain if he tried to dig for more information his uncle would tell him it was none of his business, he decided he’d get the truth from Georgia.
“When did you send her home?”
“About three.”
Nicholas glanced at the clock over the desk. It had only been a half hour. If he hurried, he could get back to her place the same time she did, maybe sooner.
With a quick nod, he hurried out to his car. His prediction, however, had turned out wrong. The dismissal of the school across the street from the diner caused a back-up for fifteen minutes. When he finally managed to get out of the neighborhood, a fender bender and argument between the parties involved caused the next delay. By the time he managed to drive around the accident, he was ready to jump out of the car and knock the rivals’ heads together.
His frustration nearly reached its peak when an inexperienced traffic cop caused a traffic jam. It took all his strength to keep his grip on the steering wheel and not bang his head on it instead.
By the time Nicholas caught up with Georgia, she was crossing the street to her apartment. As she placed her foot on the first step to the stoop, someone called her name. She turned back and ran to the man who had taken her out two Sundays back.
They exchanged a few words before he took her hand. With their fingers interlocked, they strolled up the block.
Nicholas watched the happy couple. Despite his disdain for the other man, he could not interrupt them. That was Georgia’s future, and he had no right to interfere. Especially since he could never offer her the stability and quiet life she deserved.
With a sigh, Nicholas hit the gas. There’d be another chance for them to talk. And, if not, it would be for the best.
Chapter 9
Georgia ignored the grumbling from the man beside her as they strolled across the street toward Gracie’s. He had a list of complaints as long as her arm. But she was determined he would not squash her excitement.
Except for a five-minute call to pass on her new telephone number and address, Celeste had not contacted her since the day her friend returned from her elopement. Several times Georgia had been tempted to drop by; however, realizing a new house did not come with instructions on how to take care of it, she decided to give her friend a chance to settle in before disturbing her.
Oblivious to the pedestrians who wanted to get by, William stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “I don’t see the purpose of us coming here.”
The man was working on her last nerve. It wasn’t like he had not been forewarned about the party. She had told him she planned on attending when he dropped by her apartment the previous evening to tell her they were going out the next night. At the time, he had agreed, but the strained smile on his face should have warned her he was not happy about her decision.
That evening, when he arrived to pick her up, he appeared surprised when she handed him a gift-wrapped box. She reminded him about the party, and his mumbled, “Yeah, right,” indicated he had forgotten about it. She initially gave him the benefit of the doubt. Between his job, the work he was doing to make his presence known in the community, and the boys he mentored in the neighborhood, she could not expect him to remember everything. When he pointed his car in a direction opposite of Gracie’s, she realized he was deliberately ignoring her wishes.
William finally saw the light as they stopped for a red light and Georgia opened the door to climb out of the car. When he demanded to know what she was doing, she stated she was going to the party if she had to walk there. She was certain his decision to back down had more to do with Pastor Peters and his wife pulling up next to them than with what she had said. It would not have looked good for him to have an argument in public. Georgia did not care about the reason behind his change of heart. Seeing her friend was all that mattered.
Taking his hand, Georgia walked up to the front of the club. Because of the party, the venue would be closed to the public. A doorman she had never seen before turned patrons away. She waited until the couple in front of her walked off before she stepped up to the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” the young man in the ill-fitted uniform asked when she reached for the door. With the pimples dotting his cheeks, he reminded her of a kid playing dress up.
“I’m here for the party.”
His upper lip curled in disgust. Thanks to the lights in front of the building, she clearly saw the disbelief in his eyes. “I don’t think so.”
“Will you please get Mr. Santiano? He’ll tell you I’m invited.”
“Who?”
“Marco Santiano, the owner of Gracie’s.”
“Ain’t no Santiano owns this club.” The young man snorted. “Mr. Gianni Acardis is the owner.”
“Then can you please get his wife.”
“I don’t answer to her. I only do what Mr. Acardis tells me to do. He said this was a private party. Only family allowed.”
Georgia felt her heart break. The only explanation she could come up with for the exclusion was her big mouth. She had gone sixteen years without voicing her suspicions about Gianni. Why couldn’t she have kept quiet?
William touched her arm. “Come on.”
Despite the overwhelming urge to break down and bawl, she refused to let anyone see the tears in her eyes. Instead, she allowed him to lead her away from the club.
“And don’t think about r
eturning. No spades allowed.”
Georgia froze. In all the years she’d visited the club, she never thought she would hear that vile statement.
“I’m not surprised,” William mumbled.
She looked up and saw the mocking in his eyes.
“Your friend got her husband. She doesn’t need her little doll to play with.”
Georgia squared her shoulders and held her head high. “Never mention this night again.”
The patronizing gleam in his eyes said he was happy she had been taken down a notch. She suspected he would not abide by her wishes never to speak of that night again. But, at that moment, he wisely kept his mouth shut as he waved her forward.
****
Nicholas did a double take at the brown coupe that cruised by. He would have sworn the woman in the passenger seat was Georgia. Yet that was impossible. It was Celeste’s birthday. Georgia would head toward the club…not away from it.
As the car turned the corner, he squinted in an attempt to get a better look at the woman. She turned her head, and he noticed the single braid hanging between her shoulder blades. No, that was definitely not Georgia. She had stopped wearing braids when she started high school, claiming the hairstyle was too childish.
Figuring she was probably inside the club already, Nicholas put his convertible in park and stepped out of the car. He glanced around for the valet to get his keys. When no one stepped forward, he walked up to the door.
“The club’s closed for a private party,” a pimply-faced punk said.
“I’m aware of that. It’s my sister’s party.”
“Let me check the guest list.” The kid reached in his pocket and pulled out a wad of paper that looked like it had been pulled from the trash and stomped on several times before it had been crumpled into a ball. He unfurled the sheet and ran his finger down a list. “What’s your name?”
Nicholas was too shocked to reply. Who the hell had put this kid at the door? He was not the greeter people would expect at a classy restaurant. A dive, maybe…a slophouse, definitely…but not someplace that bore his mother’s name.