A Bookie's Odds

by Ursula Renee

  ****

  “What are we doing here?” Georgia asked as they wandered into Gracie’s

  “I wanted to look around,” Nicholas replied, surveying the dining room.

  With no one else in the venue, he was able to remember what the place used to look like when his father ran things. Men wearing their best suits and women dressed to impress had frequented the establishment. The floors had been clean and the tables covered with fine linen. The food and entertainment had earned them many glowing reviews in the newspapers.

  “What do you plan to do with the place?”

  He shrugged. “I may invest in it.”

  “If you do, could you do me one favor?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Hire a decent chef.” She scrunched her face in disgust. “Bologna sandwiches do not belong on a menu.”

  Nicholas agreed. However, before he made any decisions, he needed someone to look at the books, and the only person he trusted with the job was standing beside him.

  He led her to the back office. The last time he’d been there, he thought she had turned her back on them. Though he could not bring himself to ask her the details, from the recent events he was certain Gianni was responsible for her missing Celeste’s party. And he also knew he would spend the rest of his life trying to make things right for that slight.

  Georgia sat down as he searched through the desk until he found the ledger in the center drawer.

  “Would you mind looking over the books?” He perched on the edge of the desk. “Of course, there’s probably another set of books in here somewhere. If I find them, do you think you’ll be able to make heads or tails of them?”

  “I can try.”

  He saw the hope in her eye and was certain she could read his mind. However, he would not voice his thoughts until she confirmed whether there was a chance of fixing the mess his former brother-in-law had created. If the business was beyond saving, he would ask her to help him search for something they could do together during the day, before they retired together in the evening.

  For some, that was too much time to spend together. But he figured the day he got tired of being with her was the day they needed to commit him.

  Nicholas leaned forward and gave in to the urge to kiss her. Jimmie Rodgers’s woman may have “Kisses Sweeter Than Wine,” but hers were not as addictive as Georgia’s.

  Before the kiss got too intense and one thing led to another, a knock on the door forced them apart.

  “I hope I’m interrupting something,” his father announced, opening the door.

  “Oh, my God,” Georgia mumbled as she covered her face with her hand.

  Nicholas stood up and glared at his father. The man could have let them finish, or at least spared Georgia the embarrassment of getting caught.

  “You’re following me?”

  “I had a talk with James.” His father sat on the sofa. “Are you serious?”

  Though he realized the older man was not talking about the business, he decided to give his assessment of the club. “It’s not a total loss. It’ll take some hard work, but I think we can get the business back to what it was.”

  His father nodded. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Did you speak to Celeste?”

  “She doesn’t want anything to do with the club. I figured I’d clean it up and sell it for her.”

  “How much are you asking?”

  His father cocked an eyebrow. “You interested in buying it?”

  “I was thinking it’s time to retire from my current line of business.”

  “What…” Georgia stared at him.

  He nodded.

  “If you’re serious, Alton could help you,” his father suggested.

  “I thought he quit.” Considering everything that had happened over the past couple of days, Nicholas suspected otherwise.

  “No, he didn’t. I went to see him yesterday. He said Gianni started selling out the club the moment he took over. When Alton protested, he was taken out back and made an example of.”

  “What did they do?” Georgia asked.

  “A broken leg and three cracked ribs.”

  “Jesus.”

  The number of casualties of Gianni’s viciousness continued to grow. Nicholas wondered how many people the man had affected…how many could have been spared if he had listened to Georgia.

  She slipped her hand in his. As always, he found comfort in her simple touch.

  “Why didn’t he come to you?” she asked.

  “They threatened to go after his family next,” his father replied. “He felt it was best to keep quiet and move on. With Gianni gone, he can return to help you.”

  “Tell him he’s welcome back, and he’ll be compensated for his injuries,” Nicholas said.

  “I already took care of that. The only problem I see is your cook. He left with Alton and has already found another job.”

  “I’m not worried.” He was certain he’d be able to convince a few family members to roll up their sleeves and help until he felt comfortable managing the kitchen on his own.

  His father stood up and reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a small box and handed it to Nicholas.

  He leaned over and kissed Georgia’s temple. “You’re a good girl, cara.” He then patted Nicholas on the shoulder before he walked out of the room.

  ****

  “What were you talking about?” Georgia asked. “I only understood half the conversation.”

  If the men had meant for the conversation to be a secret, they would have asked her to give them a few minutes and waited until she left the room before continuing.

  “I had a talk with your father today.”

  That did not sound promising. Nicholas went out of his way to aggravate her father, while the older man contemplated various ways he could keep the younger one away from her.

  Reluctantly she asked, “What about?”

  “I told him you’re marrying me.”

  Georgia’s mouth dropped open. He couldn’t be serious. Not the Nicholas Santiano who once said he’d take a vow of celibacy before he took a vow of marriage.

  “I’m serious.” He opened the box his father had handed to him. A white-gold diamond ring with leaves on either side rested in velvet. It was the same ring his mother wore in her wedding pictures.

  “But what about—”

  “My business? As I just told Pops, I’m ready to retire. Find something with a bit more stability. Like working in a kitchen.”

  “Then there’s—”

  “Your career. I figured you’d be able to juggle working at both the diner and the club.”

  “But I’m not—”

  “No, you’re definitely not like the women I used to go out with. That’s why I’m proposing to you, not them.”

  She folded her arms over her chest and slumped in the chair.

  “You have any more questions?”

  “I’m sure if I did, you’d answer them before I finished getting the words out.”

  Nicholas cocked an eyebrow.

  “Does that mean you’re going to actually let me ask one?”

  “Of course. I just did.”

  Georgia dropped her head back with a huff. Nicholas chuckled as he took her left hand. The smooth metal band slipped onto her finger.

  She lifted her head and smiled. Nicholas was down on one knee in front of her.

  “What about my father?”

  “He doesn’t like me, and he thinks you could do better.”

  “And?”

  “I personally don’t think you’ll ever find someone like me.”

  Georgia laughed. “Seriously.”

  “He’d also prefer you to marry a colored man and make life easier for both of us.”

  She dropped her head.

  “But he’ll always be in our corner.” Nicholas hooked a finger under her chin and nudged her until she raised her head. “Georgia Mae Collins, will you marry me?”

  Georgia n
ever expected Nicholas would utter those four words without a gun pointed at his head or a well-endowed woman with a swollen belly standing in front of him.

  At times, he could get too full of himself and needed to be taken down a peg. And, though he was abandoning his illegal activities, she was certain it was the only change he was making. He would never be able to walk away from someone who had a problem calling her by name. Instead, he would let his fists express his displeasure.

  However, he had always been in her corner, cheering her on and supporting her dreams. And, though there were times they had their disagreements, he was always there for her when she needed him the most.

  Though Georgia was certain her father would want her to consider the difficulties she would face being with Nicholas, she did not need to think about it. Nicholas was right—she’d never find a friend like him.

  A word about the author…

  Ursula Renée wrote short stories in high school and poetry in college. She began writing novels while recuperating from arthroscopic surgery. When she is not writing, she enjoys drawing, photography, and stone carving.

  Visit Ursula at:

  www.ursularenee.com

  blog.ursularenee.com

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