“I didn’t want any of this shit.” I half laughed with sorrow lacing my words. “I want out of this.”
“Look, you seem like you’re a good guy deep down Gianetti, but you must know that you’re in too deep. We can’t just walk away and let you get away with the crimes you’ve already committed.”
“You can’t afford to have me in jail. When the threat is gone –I’ll walk right into your office and let you serve your warrants. I’ll gladly go to jail – if you can prove anything.”
“Tell me what the threat is, Sean.” Max implored. “What the hell is it you want me to do?”
“I need you lay off of me and focus. I need you to do your damn job. I can hold – these terrorists – at bay for a little while, but after that … I can’t give you too many details, but I hope you can read between the lines here King.”
“Damn it.” King laughed. “I really don’t want to like you, but you make it so damn hard.”
“I’m not trying to win you over. I just want my life back. The way it should have been in the first place.”
“Next time we meet you know I’m going to have to arrest you.” He pushed away from the table and headed toward the front door unhindered.
“Hey King,” I called before he was too many steps away.” He halted, seemingly frozen like he expected to feel a bullet penetrate his back. “You’ve checked out everyone in this place – what do you know about my new dancer? Is she one of you?”
“Hell no,” King laughed. He continued limping and I let him go.
EIGHTEEN
(Jessie)
I WANTED TO QUIT. THREE months. And I hadn’t gotten any better. My bad performances darkened my already depressed mood and a hard, foul ball returned to my belly, bringing it so much agony that I felt I would heave the fluids from my empty stomach the moment I opened my eyes. I took a deep breath and concentrated on the small, brown ring on my ceiling, the atmosphere degraded me worse than the efforts I had taken to change my future.
Josh hadn’t contacted me except to ask for the keys to the house. He didn’t beg me to quit and come home. Didn’t ask me to meet him and he barely called. It wasn’t enough to keep me hopelessly infatuated and I was reconsidering our reconciliation.
Turning weary eyes, I stared at the red digital numbers and waited out the sixty seconds it took for the buzzer to sound, then I forced myself upright. I shuffled slipper covered feet across the chipped kitchen tile and took a carton of orange juice out of the refrigerator and hoped my pity me complex was only temporary.
Knock. Knock.
I didn’t expect anyone to come to my apartment. I never had visitors. I raised my brow in confusion and went to investigate. I opened the door, but no one was there.
I glanced around and found a very large bouquet of red roses sitting beside my door. I was awestruck. I had never seen so many residing in a single bouquet and the glass vase was heavy to lift. It was just what I needed from my fiancé – I plucked the card.
You intrigue me – Sean.
Ugh! Are you kidding me? I was pissed off at Josh. Why couldn’t he send me flowers? Why couldn’t he send me cards?
I snatched a quick choice from my closet, shoved it into my bag and rushed out the door after I collected Gianetti’s gift. A short trip later I straightened my backbone to shrug away the bitterness of the morning, lifted my shoulders and took long strides into the building. I looked around for Sean Gianetti, but found him a little preoccupied.
He was in the game room. My eyes fell on him – and the slender, sensual redhead wrapped around his waist as he leaned against a pool table. My movement came to a sudden halt and I gawked in disbelief. Sean caught my gaze, then guiltily shifted it and I tried to figure out why tears stung behind my eyes.
“Hey Devo, How are you tonight?” I approached the large man in the disc jockey’s booth.
“Good – Good.”
“Do me a favor?” I set the heavy load on the thin ledge in front of him. “Give these to Mr. Gianetti.”
“Pretty.” He touched one of the flowers. “I have a disc for ya.” Devo was so simple and sweet. He seemed to have a big grin spread across his lips every time I laid eyes on him.
“Oh yeah?” I followed him towards the sound equipment and listened to the songs as he skipped through them.
Devo smiled at my appreciation. He was a complete contradiction giving his massive build and lofty stature. I admit I was a little frightened by him at first, but it turned out he was a gentle giant whose entire life revolved around music.
“Those are nice songs, Devo,” I complimented the slow love songs.
“Boss gave me these for you.”
“Sean made that?” I wasn’t sure what to think. Sean Gianetti was part of what I wanted to get away from. Seeing him every night was a constant reminder of the heartbreak in my life.
“He … Um … If you want to change anything – I can – I can add it,” he spoke shyly, barely able to lift his glance from the permanent ink he etched on the freshly burned CD.
“Fantasy?” I questioned his label.
“That’s what you are. The men say – you can look, but you can’t touch,” he said with a blush. “You tease them.” His train of thought became instantly lost the moment the outside door let in the light, outlining Tina in a soft, iridescent glow.
“Hey, Girl! I was wondering if you would come back after last night.” She entwined her arm with mine as if we were lifelong friends. “What’s up, Devo?”
Devo spread his lips, showing his big, straight teeth, staring at Tina with large pupils as if he were staring into the stage lights, exposing a crush he was too timid to voice. If Tina noticed, she did a great job of pretending she didn’t.
It felt like an out of body experience with the loud chatter of the other girls sounding like they coming from a distance and not literally right beside me. The woman in the mirror was a stranger, even though the blue velvet evening gown I had worn before. It made me look different, like someone else and I wondered again who I really was. What type of person was I?
As I traced my fingertips across the sequin embellished waistband, I remembered how alone I had felt the last time I had worn it. I recalled the corner table where I sat idly watching other couples laugh and dance. All I could do was drink, one glass of champagne after another, depressed because unlike the other singles at my table, I knew that I wouldn’t be asked to dance. The diamond on my finger guaranteed that.
If Josh had to work, I would have understood, but it wasn’t the case. We’d been invited as a couple and he had ditched me to go on a spur of the moment camping trip with his friends, rushing off without taking so much as a glance of how I looked in that dress.
“Stop worrying. You look fine.”
“What?”
“I said you look great. Stop fussing already.” Tina had faded into the background as well, reemerging slowly, trying to cure what she perceived as stage fright.
“I’m not sure. I only wore this once to a wedding.”
“And it has been sitting in the back of your closet ever since, right? Well, it’s about time you knocked the dust off it.”
“It was kind of the only thing I have that I haven’t worn on stage before and the sad thing is it’s still nowhere near as sexy as the things the rest of you wear. Ugh – I should have brought something else.”
My mind wandered off. Thinking about all the things that I never let myself dwell on. Everything I had made excuses for. All the dreams I had given up. I thought how they told me to think. Spoke the way they told me to speak and I dressed the way they wanted me to dress. Was anything really what I wanted?
“You were somewhere else there for a while, Doll. Everything okay?”
My thoughts were broken.
“I’m just tired.” I had never been the type to confide. My secrets were my own and I trusted them to no one. Troubles were tough enough to solve without adding another’s criticism.
“You’re still worried ab
out the dress? Hold still.”
“Tina, what are you doing?” I gasped.
Tina took a pair of scissors and cut the fabric. She cut a slit into the fabric, then sheared it all the way around at my thigh. I stood in awe of the transformation. It barely covered my bottom. I was sure my cheek would show when I walked.
“Now, for the finishing touches.” Tina grabbed a cosmetic brush and dabbed it into a container of glittering purple eye shadow. “Close your eyes.”
I had never had a girlfriend. I had never experienced pre-teen sleepovers where makeovers and pillow fights were considered normal activities. I had never had a close friend at all, which made it hard for me to know how to play my part with Tina. The woman had been so kind, taking me under her wing, befriending me when she had no reason to help me.
“Hey, Jessie! You’re up!” Matt called from the curtain.
A female songstress reached my ears. My new stage name was announced. Slowly I walked, losing myself in the lyrics that echoed my own thoughts.
I held my head high and took the stage. I closed my eyes, remembering the ballet classes I had taken as a child. I moved in the same manner, spinning, and twirling, adding a sexy dip to entice. I was more comfortable with the simple pirouettes even if it wasn’t the preferred style the customers were accustomed to.
The song was nearly over and I felt I had finally conquered the stage. Now for the next – My hand did not tremble as I reached behind my neck and untied the strap, but I could not persuade myself to let the dress fall to the floor.
Spin. Step. Spin. Step.
All was well as long as I held the material to my bosom as men urged me to show them more.
Standing in the shadows, I caught a glimpse of Sean Gianetti. He just found the roses I had given back sitting in the center of his private table and immediate he gazed my way. The sting of rejection written in his eyes and expression. I swallowed hard. Why did his gaze always have to linger?
~ ♥ ~
That was the smoothest part of my night. No matter what I tried, I had a hard time displacing personal problems. Confusion grew out of control and I nearly tripped and fell off the stage again during my next dance.
Then I mixed up drink orders while serving and slapped a drunken man for grabbing my buttocks.
Spencer screamed, making the ability to regain my composure impossible. So, I turned to whiskey, downing a double shot and making a sour face, hoping it would relax me erase the worries that stressed.
“Hurry up!” Spencer’s screaming mixed in with the packed room’s roar.
And all I could think about was Josh and the position at The Bureau I had given up for him. How being in love and having a family was a dream I wanted more than any other. How I’d never admitted that before – not even to myself.
“If that table walks out, you’re fired!” Spencer bellowed.
I filled the glass and endured another quick shot of courage.
Time after time I tried to shake away the hateful memories where my short comings had been thrown in my face repeatedly by a man who was supposed to love me. But they kept on coming. Stealing away my confidence.
I drank another.
Only when I was drunk could I truly relax and enjoy myself but, I never moved as gracefully as I thought. Beer sloshed from glasses and onto the floor. I forgot who I was serving and laughed when I was corrected. I stumbled. My head felt light. My stomach burned. My eyes felt heavy, but my spirit felt uplifted. I finally understood why some turned to the drink to drown their sorrows, pain, and confusion.
I poured even more liquor into my stomach with every return to the bar until finally the intoxication caused me to think of Josh’s faults and I laughed at his hypocrisy. I giggled at my own thoughts while I filled mugs.
“Are you going to serve that tray of suds some time tonight?”
“Of course, Spence, I would just hate for you to have to peel your polyester butt from that bar stool.” Satisfied with my lash of the tongue, I clutched the heavy tray and whirled around.
My breath sucked from my lungs when the heavy, wood door behind the bar opened. Someone stepped out and I couldn’t stop. The mugs slid to one side of the tray, tipping and flipping it into the air. Yellow fizzing liquid rained down and the glass mugs crashed to the tile floor.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” I bent down to pick up the broken mugs and my hiccups began.
“You clumsy little b –” Spencer cut his statement short and I glanced up at my victim.
Sean appeared stunned. His shirt, soaked with beer, clung to a sculpted chest. He stared at me, his mouth agape while I cleaned glass from the floor.
I started to laugh before I could think, hiccupping in between each giggle.
“You’re laughing at me?” Sean held his lips tight and narrowed his eyes in anger, but I noticed the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, giving away the humor he found in the situation.
“No, I mean – Yes.” I continued hysterically as I collected the shattered ruins and stood up.
He bent down to help, foolishly grinning at my inebriated condition.
“It’s just, you look like Santa Clause.” Scooping up a handful of the popping suds from his chest I added to what already hung from his chin.
Sean cocked an eyebrow and then turned to look at his reflection in the stainless steel refrigerator door, turned his head side to side to admire his new white beard before manipulating them into a new shape.
“I don’t know, I think I look like a gnome.”
Again he caused me to laugh and hiccup uncontrollable.
“I should throw this away.” I stood and tried to contain the outburst as I approached the trash can to dump the mess I had caused, but was halted by an unexpected puddle.
My foot slid forward and my body tumbled backwards, finding no balance due to my woozy condition. Falling quickly, I braced myself for the pain the hard tile would cause.
Sean was quick to save me, grasping me in strong arms. My body fell limp and our eyes met. A chill crept through me as he helped me find steady footing.
I clung to him, still laughing hysterically. Not at him, but at the position my hands landed. Beneath them, I felt the chilled alcoholic beverage and I let my fingertips glide down the outline of his pecks.
“You seem to be making a habit out of spilling things on me.”
“I’m making a big fool of myself.” I took a deep breath to control my laughter. Pinning my gaze to his chest. Damn, that man was built. “I’m really sorry,” I repeated and pulled away. “I’m just having one of those nights. I wasn’t paying attention.” I wasn’t sure if I was apologizing for the accident or my lust.
I turned and poured another shot.
“Have you had a break yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Then I guess Spencer won’t mind if you take one now.”
I tried not to read anything into his actions as he stepped back and gentlemanly beckoned me to exit the bar area before him.
“I’m soaked.” I grabbed a towel on the way out and used it to blot my dress. The weight of the liquid caused the material to sag and I could see the lacy bra I wore beneath it – and so did Sean who never lifted his gaze from my bosom, nearly running into the door as we exited the club. “I think I have a hair dryer. Do you want me to dry your shirt,” I offered, gaining some control in the night air and suddenly feeling the power a woman could hold over a man.
“Sure.” He took his tank top off and handed it to me, shifting the power to him.
“I bet you don’t have an ounce of fat anywhere on your body,” I blurted out and touched a fingertip to well defined abs, tracing the remarkable lines as I clutched his shirt.
He uttered an embarrassed laugh and gently moved my hands away.
“How much have you had to drink?”
“Oh, only enough to act stupid.” Another hiccup followed my statement. “And …hiccup!”
“I don’t think you’re acting stupid. I think you’re just
a little too relaxed.” He swept my hair behind my shoulder, displaying expressions of longing that I knew I wasn’t imagining.
Again I dared to stroke the demon. Gently caressing the edge of his jeans. Sliding fingers to his side and back again. He shuttered and tiny bumps appeared beneath my touch.
“This is wrong.” Quickly I snapped back to my senses, lifted my hands and turned away in hasty retreat.
“Where are you going?” He chuckled.
I felt the heat rise to me face. I grabbed a strand of my hair and twisted it nervously around my forefinger.
“You’re married.” I gestured to his left hand and the gold band he wore. “I’m getting married … and I shouldn’t be thinking what … you look really good by the way.” I continued to make a fool of myself, blurting out everything I was thinking before I had a chance to contain it.
He sauntered my way.
I hurried inside before he could respond – to anything.
“Girl, what happened to you?” Tina asked the moment she saw me.
“I had an argument with a tray of drinks.” I sat beside my new friend and started laughing again. “Can I borrow your hair dryer?”
“Sure.” Tina opened her bottom drawer and retrieved the device, handed it to me and I attempted to dry my dress, hoping to burn away the intimate urge I had experienced.
“And who does this belong to?” Tina teased, holding up the black men’s tank.
I blushed.
“Wait, there’s only one man I saw wearing a – Girl, you are so wrong.”
“For what?”
“For not telling me that hunk of a man is walking around out there without a shirt on!” She screeched and dropped the shirt. “I got to see this.” Tina rushed to the curtain and stuck her head out to peek at Sean. “Damn,” Tina exclaimed when she returned. “If I knew that was all it took to get him half naked I would have done it a long time ago. I need details,” she begged.
I gave her no information pertaining to what had transpired between me and Sean as I dried his shirt, fearing Tina would convince me to act on my impulse.
Son of a Mobster (Criminal Desires) Page 13
