But the thought that some lone wolf could try to take a shot at Adrian anyway, concerned Mick deeply. And that was why he walked away from the window, walked around his desk, and left his office. He had to make sure Mo’s people understood his directive. He had to make sure they fully appreciated that he might be the world’s worse father, but Adrian was still his son. And although Mick was not the kind of man who felt he deserved to pray, not with all the blood on his hands, he prayed for his son’s safe return all the same.
“I’ll be back,” he said to his executive assistant as he made his way out of the outer sanctum of his office, and toward the elevator. He had his hands in his pants pockets and looked as if he was going out for a stroll. But his assistant knew better. Carp Bianchi didn’t come to his office for small talk. Something was happening.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Roz looked at the picture of the sweet little fourteen year old and smiled. “She is so cute, Hamp,” she said. “She must favor her mother.”
Hamilton Sturgess laughed. “Yes, she does. She’s fortunate that way. And she has the biggest heart in this world.”
Roz handed him back his picture. They were seated across from each other in The Bonfire, a restaurant near Roz’s office, waiting on Mick to arrive. “Do you get to see her often?” Roz asked.
“Not nearly as often as I would like, no. Her mother can be a real bitch unfortunately. If I don’t give her what she wants, she uses our child as leverage.”
Hamilton was surprised when Roz didn’t respond to that. In the past when he would bring it up, the woman he was with would be appalled and agree that his ex was a bitch without question. And they would take pity on him. They would give him a little extra in bed too, just to show him how much more of a woman they were than his ex could ever be. But Roz remained silent.
Roz remained silent, not because she didn’t agree that Hamilton’s ex had issues, but because she had no idea if Hamilton was telling the truth, the whole truth, or just his side of the truth. If the man in question wasn’t Mick Sinatra, and the woman wasn’t Roz Sinatra, she tended to stay out of it.
Hamilton leaned forward. He brazenly placed Roz’s hand in his. “I just want to let you know,” he said, “how much I appreciate your consideration. You have always been a fighter, and that’s who I need in my corner. I need to get back to work. Acting is my life. Tony Bellamy took away my livelihood. I’m depending on you, Roz, to help me get it back.”
Hamilton turned on that acting talent, as tears appeared in his eyes. “You don’t know what it’s been like,” he continued. “One day I was the toast of Broadway. Everybody knew my name. The next day, after Tony found out, I was toast. Nobody would return my phone calls. Nobody would hire me. It’s been nothing short of a nightmare, Roz.”
“But if I take you on, Hamp,” Roz said, “it isn’t going to be a straight shot to Broadway either. I need to make that perfectly clear.”
“You already did,” Hamilton said. “I understand.”
“I have many clients,” Roz continued. “But Vernita Blake, who has her debut on Broadway next week, will be my first client to make it that far. You can get there. I’m certain I can get you there. But it’s going to mean a lot of swallowed pride and a lot ego-checking. You aren’t starting off-Broadway. You’re starting off-off-off Broadway, Hamp.”
“I fully understand, Roz. I get it, I really do. I’m pushing forty, but I’m going to basically be starting over.”
“That’s right,” Roz said. “But you’ll be starting over with great name recognition. That will eventually be your propeller, I promise you. But it won’t happen overnight.”
Hamilton squeezed the hand Roz had forgotten he held. “That’s what I have always loved about you, Roz,” he said. “You tell it straight, and you keep it one hundred. I think we’ll make a wonderful team.”
Roz smiled, and lifted her drink. “I’ll drink to that,” she said.
“I forgot you had dimples,” Hamilton said with a smile of his own. “Look at you!”
Mick had already entered the restaurant, and was waiting behind a couple the Maître d was speaking with, and he was looking at both of them. He saw his wife, and he saw the man with his wife. Tall, handsome, and very slender. Like a track man, if he was an athlete at all. But that was Roz’s type, Mick thought. From what he could gather, he would undoubtedly rank as the biggest man she’d ever dated. His muscular arms alone were as big as that guy’s slender thighs.
But it wasn’t until the Maître d ended his conversation with the couple in front of Mick, and then began escorting him to Roz’s table, did he realize his wife and that man were doing more than just talking. The man had her hand, his wife’s hand, in his.
What Mick didn’t know was that Hamilton saw him when he first entered the restaurant. He’d done his homework. He knew what Mick Sinatra looked like. That was why he had grasped Roz’s hand in the first place.
“I think your husband has arrived,” he finally said to Roz as Mick approached. Roz turned around in her seat, effectively removing her hand from Hamp’s.
Mick wore his standard issue tailored suit and tie, and his thick brown hair could use a cut, but there was always something about him that made Roz’s heart soar whenever she saw him. And when she thought about this morning, and how she woke up to that wonderful feel of his penis already inside of her, her entire body felt the elation. And even as women were giving him that special look as he passed their tables, and some men too, Roz couldn’t care less. Because Mick was her man. That was her man right there!
She’d had so many creeps for boyfriends that she used to believe the term faithful man was an oxymoron. And it still could be with Mick. She couldn’t guarantee that he was faithful to her. In fact, of all the men she’d ever been with, he was the one she was convinced would be most likely to cheat. He had the looks, the body, the power. Women would be crazy not to go hard to get next to him, and Roz knew it. But of all the men she ever dated, he was the only one that didn’t give her a reason to be suspicious. He was the only one who treated her better than she ever treated herself. She was counting her blessings. She felt blessed to have him.
“You made it,” she said with a smile as he arrived at the table. Hamilton stood up.
Mick’s heart soared too when she turned around and he laid eyes on that irresistible face again. Never a man given to public affection, he didn’t care when it came to Roz. He leaned down and kissed her on her lips. The touch of her lips, the smell of her body, the softness of her skin against his skin made his dick throb.
Hamilton saw their reaction to one another. He saw how Mick squeezed her arm as he kissed her, as if he wanted to remind the world that she belonged to him. He saw Roz close her eyes as he kissed her, as if, in Hamilton’s mind, Sinatra not only had wealth and power to recommend him, but he knew how to put it on her in bed. Which made Hamilton realize just how tough a sales job he had in front of him. Becoming Roz’s boy toy, and Roz ultimately becoming his benefactor, wasn’t going to be as easy as he had hoped.
When she and Mick stopped kissing, Roz introduced the two men. They shook hands cordially, and both sat down. Mick placed his arm across the back of Roz’s seat, and kept his eyes on Hamp.
“It’s just so wonderful that Roz and I were able to reconnect,” Hamilton said. “We used to be old pals on Broadway.”
“More like off-Broadway,” Roz said. “And hardly pals. More like lovers,” she added.
Mick could tell Hamilton hadn’t expected Roz to be so honest around her husband. But he managed to smile it off. “Oh, yeah, I forgot,” he said with a shake of his shoulder, and what he hoped was a charming grin.
Mick wasn’t charmed at all. He had too much on his plate to be so easily persuaded. From calming the nerves of Mo DeLuca’s revenge-minded men, to searching for that dumb-ass son of his himself, he didn’t really have time for this meeting. He had contemplated phoning Roz and canceling it. But he thought about her former lover putting on the charm, tr
ying to seduce her, trying to get some again. It wasn’t happening. Roz was not that kind of lady. But he wasn’t going to take any chances with the man. This was a meeting he had to make.
“The point I was making,” Hamilton said, “is that I greatly appreciate the fact that Roz is giving me this opportunity. She’s always been a fighter. And, as I told her before you arrived, that’s exactly what I need.”
“You do not currently have an agent?” Mick asked.
“No, I don’t,” Hamilton said.
Mick stared at him, waiting for an explanation. But Hamilton redirected the subject. “I’m just happy to be working with Roz. She’ll deliver for me.”
But Mick wasn’t so easily misdirected. “Why not?” he asked.
“Why not what?” Hamilton asked with a smile.
Bad move, Roz thought, as she looked at Hamilton. With Mick, it was always better to just answer the question.
Hamilton did. “My agent decided that he wanted to take his agency in a different direction. He therefore didn’t feel an association with me was what his agency, given that new direction, needed.”
“Why not?” Mick asked him.
Roz wanted to step in. She wanted to steer Hamp toward the truth before it bit him in the butt. But she knew Mick. She stayed out of it.
“I just told you why,” Hamilton said, giving Mick his best charming smile.
Mick stared at Hamilton. He was an actor doing what he did: acting. Mick took a sip of Roz’s wine. He didn’t have time for this. “I’ve got to go,” he said to her as he sipped.
Roz looked at him. “Now? But Mick, you haven’t had anything to eat.”
“I’ll get something later.”
Something was up, Roz could tell. And if her instincts were right, whatever it was had nothing to do with Sinatra Industries. Which meant, she knew, it was not only bad but was probably dangerous. “I understand,” she said. “Just take care of yourself.”
Hamilton felt triumphant. He apparently didn’t find anything to really object to. “Well, I’m certainly sorry we couldn’t talk more,” he said.
“Nothing to talk about,” Mick said, placing Roz’s drink back in front of her. “My wife will not be representing you.”
Both Hamilton and Roz looked at Mick. Roz was floored. “What are you talking about?” she asked him.
“I thought it was a done deal,” Hamilton said.
“It wasn’t a done deal,” Roz corrected him, and then looked at Mick again. “That’s my decision to make, Mick.”
“I made it for you,” Mick said firmly. “You will not be representing him.” Mick looked at her as if he was daring her to dispute his authority.
Roz wanted to lash out. She couldn’t believe Mick’s nerve. She knew she was taking a risk by inviting him to have an opinion about one of her clients to begin with. And had it not been for the fact that she and Hamilton had that history, she would have never considered such a thing. But he promised to give his opinion, not make the decision for her! She was livid.
But she was also his wife. She would fight him vigorously on this. But not in this public place. Mick leaned over to kiss her goodbye. Hamilton thought it instructive that she offered her cheek, not her mouth.
It wasn’t lost on Mick either. But that only meant she was pissed with him. If it meant keeping creeps like this Hamilton guy out of her life, she could be pissed with him all day long. He kissed her cheek anyway, stood up, and began to walk away. When he glanced back, and saw Hamilton smiling such a delicious smirk at Roz, as if they shared some inside secret, he doubled back.
“On second thought,” Mick said to Roz, “get your things. You’re coming with me. This luncheon,” he said, looking directly at Hamilton, “is officially over.”
Hamilton was scared now. Did Roz allow this man to exert that kind of control over her? He couldn’t believe it!
But it was true. Roz stood up. Hamilton stood too. “I don’t understand, Roz,” he said, playing up innocence as hard as he could. “What did I do?”
“Nothing,” Roz said. “I’ll call you.”
“But he said you aren’t going to represent me.”
“I’ll call you,” Roz said again, and she and Mick left the restaurant.
But outside, as they waited for the valets to bring them their cars, was a different story. She looked at Mick with pure anger in her eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked him. “You don’t decide who I represent. I make that decision. That is my decision alone!”
“You aren’t representing him,” Mick said without backing down. “That’s my decision, and my decision is final.”
“Like hell it is, Mick!” Roz spoke angrily enough that the other valets waiting for work, who were too far away to hear the words they were saying, did understand that a voice had been raised. “You don’t run my business any more than I run yours!”
“You are not representing that guy,” Mick said again.
“And why not?” Roz asked, genuinely confused.
“Because he’s not interested in representation. He’s not in search of an agent. He’s in search of a sugar mama. Which, I assure you, will not be you.”
Roz shook her head. This was too crazy to her. “His career means everything to him, Mick. You don’t understand the actor’s creed. That man isn’t looking for somebody to take care of him. He wants to take care of himself! He wants, he needs to be on that stage.”
“He is on stage,” Mick said, “and he’s definitely acting. He’s in the play of his life. And it’s all about convincing you to bankroll him.”
“And how does he intend to convince me, Mick? Tell me that?”
“Sex,” Mick said irritably. “What the fuck else?”
Roz stared at him. How could he possibly have concluded all of that? “What if your guess is wrong, Mick? What if you’re falsely accusing Hamp of something he’s not even considering?”
“I’m not guessing,” Mick said. “I didn’t just hop in the car and ride over here. I ran a background on Mr. Sturgess. He didn’t just sleep with that director’s wife. It was, in fact, the director’s ex-wife. And it wasn’t just that he was sleeping with the old hag. He was accused of draining her bank account to the tune of half a million dollars. He was accused of living lavishly on that lady. And not just her. But there were a string of women, all less prominent than the director’s ex-wife, but he was taking them all to the cleaners. And his career wasn’t over just recently. He’s a doper, Rosalind.”
Roz was stunned. “Drugs?”
“His addiction had him on the decline for years. Nobody would hire him, not because he slept around, but because his ass was an unreliable thief. His agent dumped him because he missed too many performances. When that old hag killed herself because of all he took from her, it was the last straw for all of Broadway. He’s broke and disgusted because of what he did, not because of what others did to him. He needs a mark. He’s not marking you.”
Mick’s Maserati arrived first. Mick had to go. He had a lot to do. But he couldn’t just leave her this way. She looked floored. So despite the audience, he moved closer to Roz, and pulled her into his arms.
Roz appreciated the hug. Because she had no idea. Because she, unlike Mick, had not done her due diligence. She had believed every word Hamp had said!
“I’m okay,” she said to Mick when they stopped embracing.
“You sure?” he asked.
“I’m positive,” she said, her hand resting on his thick chest. “You go and take care of your business. And be careful, Mick, I mean it. I’ll be okay. Don’t worry. I won’t be signing him.”
Mick loved her strength. He also loved the fact that she listened to what he had to say, and reached the same conclusion he had reached. He kissed her again, this time on her forehead, got in his car, and left. The valets seemed impressed at the sound of his revved up engine, as he sped off.
But before they could bring Roz’s car around, she wasn’t quite done. The idea that Hamp would l
ie to her so easily didn’t sit right with her. She headed back into the restaurant.
When Hamilton saw her coming, he inwardly cheered. Her hubby was apparently gone, and she, as he knew she would, was doubling back. Sinatra might have been giving it to her good, but not nearly as good as he could put it on her.
He stood when she arrived. “What a thug,” he said to her. “I take it he’s gone?”
“That thug,” Roz said, “told me all about your sorry ass. That thug,” she continued, “read to me chapter and verse about your drug habit, and your whoring, and the fact that you caused a lady to kill herself after ruining her financially. Not to mention emotionally.”
Hamilton was caught. He had not expected Roz or anybody else to know that much about him. He sat back down.
“Yeah, you sit down,” Roz said. “Because that’s all you’ve been doing for years. You’ve been sitting down and living off of silly women who were more than willing to feed you and your major drug habit. And it’s okay that you decided I was in a position to feed it too. It’s your thing if you’re the kind of man that wants a woman to take care of him. But what angers the shit out of me is the fact that you thought I was dumb enough to be one of those silly women. That’s the part I can’t abide. But thanks to my husband, to that thug as you call him, I don’t have to abide it. I don’t have to see your scheming ass again.” She took what remained of her drink and threw it in his face. “Now get the fuck out of my town and stay the fuck out of it.” She stared at him with nothing but rage in her once soft eyes, sat the glass back on the table, and left.
Hamilton tried to smile it off as patrons looked his way. He took his napkin and tried to wipe it off. But there was no wiping away the reality. Roz, he now knew, was not the one.
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