For Fallon (Chicago Syndicate)

by Naomi, Soraya

  She nods her head slowly in agreement, and we cling to each other as we’re trudging to the exit. “Teagan, we have to get our coats.” I blink profusely to regain some normal eyesight.

  Teagan just nods because she’s too tired and drunk to speak in her state, so I seat her on a stool near the line to retrieve our coats. Her eyes close, and I don’t want to leave her. I turn, still holding her up in her seat to prevent her from falling asleep, and I’m taken aback when mystery man stands before me. I strain to focus my vision.

  “Can I help you ladies?” He seems genuinely concerned, looking past me to Teagan. He eyes me and the corner of his lip tilts up slightly.

  Teagan - suddenly awake - stares at him and slurs rather disgracefully, “Shit, you’re hot!” And…she’s out again; face falling forward.

  I shoot the guy an apologetic look.

  He seems amused and repeats, “Help?”

  “Uhm…yes, please. Could you retrieve our coats while I stay with my friend?” I request hesitantly.

  “Of course.” The rich timbre of his voice mesmerizes me.

  I hand him my token for our coats. His hand brushing against my hot skin causes an odd, powerful tingling to surge through me.

  “I’ll be back in a minute.” And off he goes.

  This is going to take forever - the waiting line is long. But to my surprise, he is actually back within a minute with both our coats.

  “Wow, you’re fast.”

  He smirks and holds my coat out for me to put on. Every time he touches the bare skin on my arms or neck, I feel a surge of excitement. We then help Teagan - who’s half asleep - into hers.

  “I’ll help you into a cab,” he pronounces, giving me no room to argue, while he helps Teagan up and walks her outside. I follow.

  He puts Teagan into the back seat of a random cab and holds the door open for me, motioning for me to get inside.

  “Thanks for your help…” I prompt him for his name.

  “Luca.”

  “Thank you for your help, Luca.”

  “You’re welcome...?” His warm hand covers mine.

  I feel comfortable with him. “Fallon.”

  “Fallon,” he echoes and encloses my cold hand within his two warm hands, rubbing it gently. “Where do you need to go, Fallon?”

  “I can take it from here,” I answer, not wanting to give a stranger my address.

  He smiles proudly and nods. I slip into the seat next to a snoring Teagan and close the door while Luca hands the driver a fifty saying, “Take the ladies home safely and wait until they’re inside their house to leave.”

  He gives too much money for the short ten-minute drive from the bar to our condo on West Jackson Boulevard. While I find it endearing that he didn’t press for my address and makes sure he gives enough money to the cab driver, I start to object. “No, Luca, that’s too much—”

  “Fallon.” He opens my door again and faces me. “Don’t worry. I only want to make sure you get home safely.” His attention is focused on my lips. Dark strands of hair fall in his eyes in a slow motion when he bends down to me.

  I want to glide my fingers through his thick hair. His sculpted lips and deep green eyes with tiny flecks of gold make me gravitate toward him.

  The world around me dwindles away as my mind focuses only on him. I hear nothing but our intensified breathing. I see nothing but his admiring eyes wandering over my face. I smell nothing but his enticing cologne. Lowering my eyes, I clutch my purse on my lap to stop me from pushing my hands into the small V of his dress shirt.

  With his hot breath on my ear, Luca whispers, “While I immensely enjoyed your seduction skills, I prefer my women more natural. Your luscious lips don’t need fiery red lipstick, Fallon.”

  My eyes snap up to him and a delightful smile lights up my face.

  Luca has already stepped back. Closing the door, he throws me a wink.

  CHAPTER 2

  Luca

  I head back to the club entrance and text Adriano to come out while I round the corner and adjust my handgun from the front to the back of my pants. That was a close call when she crashed straight into me. For the first time in years, I was thrown off guard. Unable to move, I kept her still in front of me so that she wouldn’t discover or reveal my handgun. When I caught her sparkling eyes and lush mouth, the ability to look away failed me. Accompanied with smooth legs in a dress that still hid her curves from me, my curiosity prevailed and I let myself feel the flare of her hip.

  Fallon.

  Her picture doesn’t do her justice. In the flesh, she’s quite the vixen, yet not. Observing her every move since we spotted her in the club, I saw a calmness in her attitude, an air of innocent mischief in the graceful way she poses herself. A woman intriguing enough to simply watch dance with her loud friend.

  I instructed Matteo - one of the cabbies on our payroll - to inform me when he dropped them off. She doesn’t give her address to strangers. She’s careful in her interactions, which could pose a problem for me. I need to gain her trust.

  Adriano comes barging out of the club, and I lift my hand to signal him over.

  “What the fuck was that?” he practically yells.

  “Tone it down.”

  He steps closer to me. “What the hell was that for?”

  I shrug him off. “I made contact, didn’t I?”

  Adriano perks a brow. “That was my job. Guess she wasn’t interested in my ugly face.”

  “I put her in one of our cabs. She’ll take some work, though. But she has made this night a lot more fun.”

  His expression contorts in comical disapproval. “Be careful with that one. You guys were eye fucking the shit out of each other.”

  “I would like to do more than eye fuck her,” I say with a deep groan.

  “Do someone tonight at the house. We have enough hot brunettes available for you.”

  “Not tonight. We have more work. Come on.”

  Adriano and I move to our second assignment of the night.

  “She didn’t want to give me her address, so I have to tread carefully. I’m going to the coffee shop where she hangs out tomorrow. I need some intel, quick.” The intel isn’t a pressing matter, but I’m looking forward to eye fucking Ms. Michaels some more.

  A few streets further down from the club, we see our target leaving a café after we’ve staked out for half an hour. The idiot walks right into the dimly lit alley to snort some coke.

  As I approach him, I pull my gun out. “Mr. Brandon.”

  Adriano stays put at the front of the alley to cover me.

  A startled Brandon spins around to me with wide eyes when he hears my voice, white powder smeared all over his nose. “DeMiliano,” he spits. The drugs have given him some attitude.

  When I slowly crowd him, he starts retreating until his back smashes against the wall. “It’s Mr. DeMiliano to you.” I hold my gun up between us, uninterestedly eyeing my piece. “I thought we told you - two days ago - to bring in the payment from your boss to us? James and I have been waiting patiently for you.”

  “I – I didn’t know of a payment,” he stutters.

  “Really? And that is,” I ask while pointing my gun to the coke that’s fallen on the pavement, “not our money you’re generously snorting up?”

  This guy is pathetic, trembling and sweating too much - giving away all his answers with simply his body language. “Let’s call Giacomo Leggia together then? Maybe your boss can explain what happened?”

  “No,” he implores. “I’ll get you the money.”

  I shake my head and tap the barrel of my gun twice against his temple. “It’s too late now. You should’ve used your head before keeping my money.”

  “I can have it for you by tomorrow.”

  How stupid does he think I am? I’m going to let Leggia finish his idiot soldier, so I indulge Brandon. “I’m in a good mood today. You have until tomorrow.”

  I tuck my gun back into my pants and meet Adriano at the front. “Did
you call Leggia and tell him that Brandon is here?”

  “Yes, he’s on his way. His Capo will be here within minutes.” Adriano lights a cigarette as we stand watch until Leggia’s Capo arrives.

  The lights of a car round the corner, heading toward us. I nod at the Capo as he steps out of his vehicle, and Adriano and I leave.

  CHAPTER 3

  Fallon

  The next morning I wake up feeling unexpectedly well. My bedroom door opens, and Teagan puts a cup of tea on my nightstand.

  “Morning,” she says cheerily. Her dirty blonde hair looks wildly disheveled, like it’s been electrocuted.

  “Morning. I see someone has not been affected by the amount of alcohol she consumed last night, except for your hair,” I tease.

  A fond smile crosses her face. I bet she doesn’t remember how we got home, and she wants to know what happened last night.

  “I’m feeling surprisingly good considering I have no memory of how I ended up in my bed. Since it’s only ten, I’m thinking it wasn’t a late night for us…” She looks at me expectantly to fill in the blanks.

  Sitting up, I sip my tea. “Those last shots killed you. We were home at three. You were snoring in the cab.”

  “That sounds like me.” She shrugs. “Want to go out for breakfast?” she asks, trying to untangle her hair.

  “Sure. Let’s leave in an hour.”

  “Excellent. And I must warn you, I do remember a guy putting my coat on me. I will be drilling you on who that was.” Teagan laughs as she struts into the bathroom.

  I shower after Teagan’s done with her morning routine and barely have any time to put on light make-up and blow dry my long hair. I rapidly brush on some black mascara, accentuating my already long eyelashes, because I never leave home without mascara and earrings. Opening one of my four jewelry cases filled with earrings, I peruse and decide on my golden triangle-cutout drop earrings for today.

  “Fallon, come on. I’m going to die. I’m hungry!” Teagan yells from the kitchen.

  “Yes, yes, I’m done.” As I run into the living room while fastening the second earring on, she’s already at the door putting on her coat. I grab my purse and jacket before we start toward the coffee and pastry shop around the corner of our street.

  Sitting at our usual spot at the window, I scan the menu. “I’m going to eat those appetizing English muffins with butter and strawberry jam. It’s the weekend, so I can have carbs.” I long for a sweet and filling breakfast. During the week, I deny myself carbs because I have such a sweet tooth. I need to control my eating habits somewhat.

  “Excellent choice! I’m getting them too,” Teagan agrees.

  We order the muffins with tea. As both of us are silently enjoying our breakfast, a feeling of serenity settles in my soul. I feel at home here in The Loop, downtown Chicago. While I had a wonderful time growing up in Lake Forest, I always wanted to live in The Loop.

  When we came to study at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, Teagan and I first lived in one of The Institute’s residence halls. I finished my master’s degree program in Studio and Writing and Teagan her photography degree last year, and we moved to our apartment.

  She found her dream job as a photographer at a studio close-by our apartment. Teagan realized she wanted to be a photographer when we were in middle school. I, on the other hand, wanted to study something different monthly. I’ve always been somewhat of a restless soul and didn’t know what I wanted to become while growing up. Every week I had a new hobby or interest that couldn’t hold my attention. When I saw Swan Lake, I wanted to be a ballerina; I attended one ballet class. Because my father is a brilliant lawyer, and I saw him in court giving his closing argument - passionately defending his client, I was going to law school; never took one law class. When I started guitar lessons at the age of fifteen, I decided I was going to be a musician; that lasted five months until I gave it up. However, when Roald Dahl introduced me to the world of witches disguised as elegant ladies and the chocolate factory that’s every kid’s dream, books became an integral part of me. Reading is the one hobby that stuck with me. It not only stuck, it’s become a full-grown obsession where I’ll cancel appointments to stay home, cooped up with a book. My book obsession convinced me to find a path in life that involved the written word. This, thankfully, narrowed down my choices on my education. I attended the broadest writing program I could find - Studio and Writing - and that’s how I ended up as a copywriter for Charity Events now.

  “Fallon!” Teagan abruptly snaps me out of my reverie. “Where did you go?” she questions.

  “Reminiscing.” I smile at her. Housing in The Loop can be very expensive. Without Teagan, I couldn’t afford the apartment.

  “How’s everything going for the yearly orphan event? Did you start? Aren’t you already working on that project?” Teagan has a habit of firing questions at me.

  “We’re just in the beginning stages of that event –it’s in August, we have almost five months to organize everything - and we’re already selling the tables for impressive amounts, so I’m positive we’ll raise a huge amount of money. So many sponsors have been attracted to it that we have a surprisingly high budget to work with. Well, in relation to the tight budgets I’m used to, anyway.”

  “I think your boss himself is one of the biggest sponsors of most of the projects,” Teagan utters with a full mouth.

  “I think Alex sponsors most of the projects too. I Googled him once. I always thought he was a rich kid, but he doesn’t come from a wealthy family. I couldn’t find any information on him. I want to know where his fortune comes from. ”

  Teagan shrugs and eats the rest of her muffin. “Not everybody is on Google,” she mockingly declares.

  Having no retort, I stick my tongue out.

  “Good one. I think there’s still some vodka in your system which negatively affects your argumentative side,” she jokes softly with a faraway look in her eyes.

  “Probably. It does make me feel better when we blame the vodka.” Tasting my tea, I notice Teagan starting to slouch forward in her seat slightly.

  A sad expression takes over her face. “Fall, I’ve received an offer to work abroad for a year.”

  What?

  “The studio wants me to work in the European office for a year. One photographer with a long-term contract has left unexpectedly, and they don’t want to train a newbie. The Europe office contacted the Chicago studio, and my boss offered me the position. It only came up last Wednesday, and I wanted a few days to consider before I told you. I think this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But because the photographer left so abruptly, they need a new photographer to start as soon as possible. The current project has been on hold for days, and the delay is costing the studio a fortune.”

  I’m shocked that she’s leaving.

  Wrinkles crease her forehead. “Please say something.”

  “I’m surprised…” I quickly add, “I’m happy for you, of course. I… I’m going to miss you. Where in Europe?”

  “London. It’s for a year, and then they’ll review my contract. The studio arranges everything for me, including housing. You can visit me.” Teagan reaches for my hand.

  I look at our hands clasped together on the table and instantly my eyes water. “I’m honestly happy for you, but I’m going to miss you. We’ve done everything together for years. It’s the end of an era.”

  Teagan laughs at my Friends reference.

  “When do you leave?” Still in a minor state of shock, I stare at my muffin; appetite gone.

  “I have to leave in two weeks. But Fallon, I’ll take care of everything. You don’t have to get another roommate.”

  I dismiss her comment. “I’m not worried about that. I’m going to be lonely without you at first,” I confess my feelings without holding back.

  “We’ll Skype. I’ll come back here. And you have to visit me in London. It’s not like we won’t see each other for a year.”

  I feel selfish talk
ing about my feelings right now. “We should celebrate the exciting offer. I’m so proud of you. How do you feel?”

  “I’m scared, but the good kind of scared. You’re the first person I’ve told the news. It’s beginning to dawn on me that it’s really happening. I’m moving to London, baby!”

  “You’re moving up in the world. I need another tea; Lady Grey for you too?” I stand up and seat myself again just as rapidly.

  Teagan looks confused and turns her head to see what or who caused me to sink back down.

  I motion my hands up and down frantically. “No! Don’t look yet,” I whisper shout before she turns around.

  Her brows draw together. “Okay… What’s going on?”

  “The guy who put your coat on you - the guy I was going to tell you about after the shock of you leaving wore off - is standing at the counter.”

  “So?” Clearly, she’s still confused.

  “Well, coat guy is mystery man is Luca who flirted with me when he put us in a cab home.”

  Her eyes widen in intrigue. “Now it’s becoming interesting. Luca flirted with the clown?” she jokes, unceremoniously loud.

  Luca - and everybody else in the coffee shop - turns when he hears the turmoil that is Teagan. A lazy grin is directed at me as he holds my eyes, and I dip my chin slightly in greeting before his attention drifts back to the counter.

  “Okay, you can look now,” I quickly mumble to Teagan.

  Teagan’s head spins around to check out Luca. “I can’t see him very well. Let me get some sugar from the other table.” She stands up and discreetly checks out Luca.

  Returning to her seat, she announces excitedly, “You definitely had a wet dream about him.” She leans in closer and continues conspiratorially. “He’s your type; the dark hair and green eyes.”

  I can’t deny that. I give her the down and dirty version of our flirting. “First, I bumped into him, accidentally copped a feel - dear god, he’s well-endowed - then he helped me evade Nick and saw to us when we left. He paid the driver and told me that he liked his women natural. That I don’t need fiery red lipstick.” A huge smile lights my being because I think that was a good move.