I called Leo and arranged to meet him for lunch. He insisted that during his work break would be the best time to get together. We met at a coffee shop that sold sandwiches and salads. Since it wasn’t in Manhattan, it had a more laid-back feel. It was less crowded and less noisy than most Manhattan eateries. We ordered food and took a table in the corner.
“Leo, I need to clear something up,” I said as he plowed into his sandwich.
He finished chewing and wiped his mouth. “What’s that?”
“You know I consider you a good friend, right?”
The look in his eyes told me the word “friend” stung. “You know sometimes I want us to be more than that, right?” He smiled.
I took his hand and held it. “I got that vibe, but I don’t want to risk ruining our friendship by becoming romantically involved.”
He pulled his hand away and crossed his arms. “For the record, I think our romance wouldn’t have hurt our friendship. It would have made it stronger.”
He wasn’t making this easy.
“I’m not buying it, Amber. We had chemistry. You disappeared after Cam died. I thought you were giving me time to grieve. What are you afraid of?”
“I’ve been hurt before, Leo.”
“So what? We all have.” He shrugged. “Besides, I’d never hurt you.”
“I believe you, but it’s complicated.”
“No, it’s really not. I don’t know if I can be just friends with you.” He got up and turned his lips downward into a frown. “I’d better get back to work.” He grabbed his trash, flung his chair back, and left.
“Leo, wait,” I said, getting up.
He didn’t turn around. I had probably lost a friend. Part of me wished I could see past his family’s mob connection. Leo had been through enough, and I’d hurt him. Maybe someday he’d forgive me. But at least Leo knew where we stood, and I could pursue Gabe guilt-free.
Chapter 28
After closing time at the pub, Henry and I finished our nightly duties. I yawned. The ten-hour Labor Day shift had sucked all the life out of me. I took my purse out of the drawer in Henry’s desk and rooted around for my lip balm. As I applied it, Henry came into the office.
He said, “Can you stick around after everyone else leaves? I need to talk to you.”
“Sure. Is everything all right?” I tilted my head and shoved the lip balm back into my bag.
“Yep.”
About thirty minutes later, the rest of the crew left. I found Henry in his office. He was talking on the phone but motioned for me to come in. “Yeah, I need the order ASAP,” Henry said as I took a seat. “Okay.” He scribbled some times and dates on a pad then hung up. “Sorry about that, but I had to finish that conversation.”
“I understand. Sounds like you’re restocking our new fridge.”
“Yeah, and it’s a big order.”
“I bet. Those coolers by the bar were filled to the brim, but it isn’t near what we used to have. You said you wanted to talk to me.”
“Yes, about you becoming a supervisor like we discussed. Then I can justify paying you more than being a cook. I have a list of responsibilities that I’d give to you.” He pushed a paper over.
I took it.
Night Manager Duties:
Schedule cooks’ shifts.
If someone calls in sick, find a replacement if possible for the night.
Do weekly inventory of food supplies.
Manage the cooks while being an active part of the kitchen line.
Prepare batches of food to use for our most popular items.
“That all seems manageable,” I said.
“The inventory is done on the computer, so I need to show you how to use the program. After the new inventory arrives, I was going to mark it on the spreadsheet, which should give us an indication of when to order more. Can you come in early tomorrow? The food is arriving before your shift. An hour early should do it.”
“Of course, Henry.” I grinned from ear to ear. “Thank you for trusting me with such a big responsibility.” I tapped my heels on the ground and readjusted myself in the chair. “Even though this may not be the best timing, I need to ask you for a few days off to go see my family.”
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes. I planned to go before the pub got back into full swing. I fear I’ve waited too long.”
“If you can make sure your nightly cooks are well staffed—especially for the weekend—you can go. It can be your first scheduling challenge. If you’d like to accept this position, I can put it up on our announcement board. As far as an increase in pay, if you can be patient and wait a few weeks, then I can give you a raise.” He handed me a folded-over piece of paper. “This estimated salary is based on a forty-five-hour week. Since Dad is no longer working, I’ve cleared this figure with Charles.”
In that moment, I realized Henry and I had never talked figures before I moved to NYC. He assured me I’d be taken care of as one of his employees. His word was good enough for me, because I had known him for years.
I unfolded the paper to reveal a figure that was higher than I expected. Then again, the cost of living in the city was high. I could use half of the amount to cover rent and utilities. Because it was Henry, I knew he offered me a fair amount.
“Remember that everything is more expensive here.” He raised an eyebrow.
“It’s like you read my mind. How about I agree to this with the condition that we can reevaluate my salary in six months?”
“Make it a year, and you have a deal,” Henry said.
“Deal.” We shook on it.
“I’ll draw up official paperwork for you to sign, and I’ll get the announcement up on the board in the next few days.”
I left the pub satisfied that I was becoming part of upper management. Henry had printed out the schedule for the next week, along with a list of phone numbers of the kitchen staff. I took it home. I’d use it later to make sure the kitchen would be well staffed while I was on vacation.
There was just one thing other than the schedule to address before I flew to California: I was going with Fiona when she sold her car.
∞ ∞ ∞
The next day, Fiona and I rode for the last time in her BMW. She was quiet the entire time. When we pulled into the dealership where Cam had gotten the vehicle, she sighed deeply while turning off the engine.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“I know I didn’t drive it much. Cam was usually with me when I did.” She ran her fingers along the wheel. “That’s one of the reasons I need to sell it. We used to drive along the Hudson River and stop at the scenic points. We’d even park and make out like teenagers.” She let out a nervous laugh, the kind that you weren’t sure if it is going to turn into crying. “I swear I can still smell the slightest hint of his aftershave in here. Either that, or I’m just imaging it.”
“Is it a woodsy scent coming from that blanket in the back?”
“Oh, good, I’m not losing it. Yeah, that’s probably it. We would curl up with the blanket and, well… you know.”
“You’re sure about this, then?”
“Absolutely. Like I said, the parking fee for that garage is really high. It’ll feel like I actually have room to breathe in my budget. I really didn’t need a car. Cam just wanted to shower me with affection and gifts. But all I ever really wanted was his love.” Tears welled up in her eyes.
Fiona had been through enough, and sitting in the car wasn’t going to make it any easier. “It’s time. Come on. Let’s do this,” I said, getting out of the car. She did the same.
Since she called the dealership and told them she was coming, they had already given her an estimate of the car’s worth. They told her it was in fairly good shape after they looked the car over. The offer they gave over the phone was their final one. She agreed and signed the paperwork.
We took the ferry back to the apartment. Fiona couldn’t keep her eyes open and eventually put her head on my shoulder. S
econds later, she was asleep. I think the motion of the ferry rocked her to sleep.
She had parted with a big part of herself by selling that car. I couldn’t blame her for wanting to sell it. It was a step in the right direction for her to recover from losing him. She even left that blanket in the back seat. She didn’t want to smell his masculine scent anymore.
When we got home, I pulled out the shift schedule for the next week and the list of phone numbers. After calling around, I got all my shifts covered.
I got online and priced the round-trip airfare. Double-checking the dates on the schedule, I noticed I could actually have four nights there, since I already had one of the days off.
I would miss seeing Gabe. It was too soon in the relationship to ask him to take a trip to meet my family. The next day I had to work, and Gabe was scheduled for the next four nights at the firehouse. Chances were that I wasn’t going to see him until I got back from California. I was sad and happy all at once—sad that I’d miss Gabe, and happy that I’d see Isadora.
I thought about confirming with Isadora that they’d be home on the dates I wanted to visit, but it was too late to call.
Is it tomorrow yet?
Chapter 29
The next day, I called Isadora and confirmed that it was a good time to visit. She was excited and said she wouldn’t tell Camille I was coming, so it would be a nice surprise for her. I couldn’t wait to see them again.
After Henry finished showing me how to use Excel to order inventory, he closed the office door. “I don’t like the alcohol distributor Charles is using,” he said as he sat.
“Have you talked to him about it?” I asked.
“Kind of. I suspect he’s going through Alberto Bugiardini to get it delivered.”
“I was afraid of that.” I sighed. “He got the beer so quickly.”
“After Dad screwed up the St. Patrick’s Day beer order and Charles had that awful family somehow bail us out of trouble, he seems to want to have them deliver our alcohol. It doesn’t leave me with a good feeling. I’ve already noticed that the price of what we pay went down ever since then. It’s like we are getting some sort of deal. Our inventory doesn’t have their name on it. Instead, it lists some other trucking company. Still, Charles talks to Alberto whenever he orders more. I don’t know what to do about it.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “If I went to the police, I could be ratting out my own brother.” He shook his head. “On the other hand, how can I ignore what’s happening? Charles won’t admit it. I tried to talk to him about who the supplier is, but he gives vague answers—ones that I don’t believe.”
“Oh, Henry, that’s awful. I wish I were friends with a cop, so you could ask for advice.”
“I’m sorry I’m telling you all of this. I don’t tell my wife, because I don’t want her to worry. You’re the only person I can confide in. I had to vent.”
I rubbed his shoulder. “Anytime, Henry. Maybe you and I can set some time aside to talk about this whole situation with the mob, including their relationship with this pub. There has to be something we can do.” He needed hope that a solution could be found. “If we went to the police, we’d want to bring evidence. Then again, the thought of getting involved with stopping the mob seems like a tricky—and extremely dangerous—business. But if we both think about it together, then we might find a good way of handling it.”
“Thanks, Amber. I can only hope so.”
∞ ∞ ∞
Hours later, one of the cooks came over. “Congratulations on your promotion,” she said in a sincere tone. “I think that’s the fastest I’ve ever seen.”
“I worked with Henry before I came to New York.” I made sure she knew I got the job on merit. God forbid someone got the wrong idea and thought it was a promotion because we were having an affair or something. The thought nearly made me gag. He was a close friend, but nothing more, and I didn’t need to deal with any misconceptions.
“He did mention his work experience with you in the past in the memo.”
“I’m glad.”
I put a note on Henry’s desk so he would know I had all my night shifts covered for my vacation.
That night was only the second time since the fire that Henry let me close without him. He’d insisted that he close with me every time after that dreadful night because of his protective nature, but he didn’t need to do that. He’d already worked ten hours and had to take the train back to Brooklyn. Eventually, I convinced him to leave. Samantha, the bartender, and I could close. Sam staying over helped to put his mind at ease.
Sam put the stools on top of the bar and chairs on top of the tables, so she could sweep the floors. We’d been down to a skeleton crew since the fire, and that night, it was just the two of us working the closing shift.
I finished making a batch of coleslaw for the next day when Sam came into the kitchen. “Hey, Amber,” she said, “remember that older gentleman who asked about you before? When I described him, you said you didn’t know anyone like that.”
“Yeah.” I looked at her, hoping he hadn’t asked about me again. If he wanted to talk, we should meet face-to-face.
“He just gave me a note for you.”
I sighed and took it from her. “Is he still here?”
“Let’s go see,” she said, grabbing my hand and leading us back to the bar. “That’s him heading out the door.” She pointed toward a tall man wearing a raincoat with the collar pulled up over his neck and a fedora hat pulled down low on his head.
“I’ll be back,” I said.
I struggled to pass the crowd playing darts by the door. For a weeknight, this was unusual. Most customers were just one or two people getting a late-night snack or dessert. The men cheered and high-fived each other, making me sidestep to get around them. One of their elbows nearly bumped my cheek.
The man I was following left the pub. Before I could exit, I saw him through the window. His long strides caused him to be out of view in just a few steps.
I bolted out the door and looked in the direction of the mystery man. He was gone. I went up a block and looked around but still saw no sign of him.
I had the note clutched in my hand. Maybe he signed it. I went back to the pub and sat at the bar with the note.
Sam yelled, “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.” She blinked the lights at the crowd.
The dart players and the few remaining customers got up to pay their tabs. While one of the guys from the dart group paid the bill with his Visa, I read the note:
Amber,
I fear your relationship with your friends and employer could put you in danger. They have connections to the criminal world. I beg you, for your own safety, move out of the city. You need to make your home somewhere else, anywhere but here. These criminals are scum. They are ruthless. Once you are caught up in their world, there is no going back to how it was. Trust me! I’ve been there. They scarred me for life, and I am trying to protect you from a similar fate.
You don’t know who I am. I cannot reveal my identity to you or anyone who works for or with these mobsters. I have a jagged history with them, and they cannot know I am here watching them.
To help with your move, I have a contact in Albany, New York. His name is Alex Delany. If you want a place to crash while you adjust to living there, he can help. I pray that you take my friend up on his offer to provide you with a place to stay.
If you want to know Mr. Delany’s address, then go to Detective Delany of the NYPD. He is Alex’s brother. Tell him an old friend of his sent you to him. Tell him everything you know then disappear.
You MUST disappear after giving them any critical information. Don’t try to save your friends. Don’t try to stick around after you talk to the police, just don’t! Get out now before it is too late.
Sincerely,
A concerned friend who loves you
Chapter 30
Baffled by who could have written such a letter, I knitted my eyebrows and stared at the la
ck of a signature. Who the hell is this friend who loves me? Why can’t he reveal his identity? What is his connection to the mob? If he can’t tell me who he is, how can I trust him? What does he know that I don’t? I had more questions than answers.
“Amber, do you need to talk about whatever is going on?” Sam asked.
I looked up and saw that we were the only two left in the pub. Sam locked the doors. I didn’t know if I should let her read the letter. She worked there too and might feel as though she could be in danger. Then again, she was the bartender who worked the most shifts. If Charles was ordering booze from Alberto, she might be able to confirm Henry’s suspicions. Sam might have heard or witnessed potential evidence about Charles’s shady dealings, and it might help Henry if I knew what she knew.
“Amber, did you hear me?” she asked.
“I did. He didn’t sign it, so I still don’t know who it was from.”
“Bummer. It seemed like you were upset when you read it. You looked perplexed.” She turned off the lights over the bar area.
“I am. I need to finish up so I can leave with you.” I got up and headed for the kitchen. I looked back at her. “Thanks for giving me the note.”
“Sure.”
Is she trustworthy of knowing the vague details of this letter? Henry would know if she should see it or not. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t see him before I went to California. He had approved my vacation request and left me a note, signed “see you when you get back.” I found it on top of my purse. The schedule board confirmed that he had the next few days off.
On the way home, I thought about the mystery man who’d penned the letter. He seemed to have connections with the NYPD. After all, he did mention the name of a detective. I wondered if Henry and I could get this detective’s opinion on how valuable our information was. I’d rather not go to the police unless it was something worthy of getting their attention.
City in the Middle: Book Two in the Amber Milestone Series Page 18
