Shamrocks and Secrets

by Cayce Poponea

  "Good morning, Christi. Cheese omelet is already on the grill and should be out shortly," Doris spoke in her usual friendly tone.

  "Thank you, Doris. How's your family?"

  "Everyone's good, Ian is in his second year of med school and Mary just got engaged."

  The bell dinged three times indicating food was ready, so Doris excused herself to retrieve it. I took a much needed sip of my coffee and let the caffeine fill my system.

  "So, how did it go?" My father asked.

  I didn't look at him as I responded, "I'm sure you already know."

  "I know he wants to pursue a relationship with you and I've given my blessing."

  "Jesus, Dad, this isn't the 1800's, I don't need your blessing to have a boyfriend."

  My father only looked at me over the top of his coffee cup. I knew that he was of the old school mentality, where you did ask the family for permission. I also knew that if I decided to date Patrick, my father would assume a wedding was on the horizon.

  "He gave me a lot to think about," I replied, looking into the caramel-colored liquid that rested in my cup like it had the answers I needed.

  My dad placed his cup down and folded his hands on the table top. "What's there to think about? You go to dinner with him, he gives you a ring, we call the priest, and this time next year I have more grand babies."

  I rolled my eyes at him as he chuckled, although I knew he was completely serious.

  "I can't be what he needs, Dad."

  My dad cocked his head to the side and gave me a bewildered look. "Can't be what he needs?"

  "Yes, Dad, he's a man of power and he's used to having things his way. Which I'm sure includes any woman he wants, whenever he wants them." I took a deep breath and turned my gaze briefly to look out the window. I now noticed a guy in a black suit standing on the corner. I turned my attention back to my father, "I can't turn a blind eye to him having other women, Dad. I don't care how much money he has, how many people he knows, or how many good things he does for people. I deserve to be loved and respected, and he can't truly do that if he's bed-hopping."

  "Does he, as you call it, bed hop?"

  "His office is in a strip joint, Dad, what do you think?"

  "I think you're assuming and that isn't fair."

  He did have a point, I was assuming.

  "Why are you suddenly his biggest fan? You do recall what he does for a living? Have you forgotten you're still a cop? Or has that changed too?"

  I knew as soon as the words left my mouth that I had crossed a line.

  "Christina Anne, I'm well aware of my duty and I don't need you to remind me what it is. My advice to you is to quit pointing fingers at Patrick and remember there are always three pointing back at you when you do. I choose to let certain activities slide and look the other way when needed. Because at the end of the day, Patrick and Thomas Malloy have done a great deal of good for this city."

  His words stung and I knew he was right. People that claimed to be honest cheated the system every day. Whether it was a banker or a teacher or even a doctor, people sometimes did illegal things.

  "Sorry, Dad, you're right."

  "Is that the only reason you won't give him a chance?"

  I thought for a second and took another sip of my coffee.

  "I just can't see how you're okay with being involved in this. Beside the fact he'd possibly want other girls on the side, what about the other things associated with organized crime? What about the prostitution, guns, and the drugs, Dad? I know you can't be okay with illegal drugs."

  I watched as my father took another drink of his coffee. "Well, since you mentioned it, the Malloy's aren't involved in drug trafficking. That's an area they leave to the Porchelli's."

  I felt shivers go down my spine at the mention of that name. The Porchelli’s were a well-known Italian crime family in New York and Miami. They were known to be very violent and stopped at nothing to get what they wanted. I had read news articles where certain members had even killed children of people who got in their way.

  "Did you even ask Patrick what his involvement in all these 'illicit' activities was?"

  "Why would I ask him that, Dad? Last night was supposed to simply be two people having dinner, not Pre-Cana."

  Before my father could respond, a dark figure appeared at the end of the table.

  "Mr. O’Rourke, Miss O’Rourke, I apologize for the interruption. Mr. Malloy wishes to extend you a good morning and instructed that I deliver this." His glove-covered hand slid an elongated black velvet box onto the middle of the table. The green ribbon that surround it reminded me of Patrick’s eyes. “Mr. Malloy also asks that you allow him to take care of the bill, which I've already done."

  My dad thanked the very large man and even shook his hand before sitting back down in his seat.

  "Well, I guess that answers my question of whether you two are dating now," my father chuckled as he took another drink of his coffee

  "I didn't agree to date him, Dad." He quickly set down his coffee cup and looked at me questioningly. "He told me that he didn't need to have a girl on the side. I told him he'd have to prove himself, and that he could say anything he liked, it still didn't make it the truth."

  My father only lowered his head and shook it back and forth.

  "Well, then I hope you're ready to be courted, because you gave him a challenge. I have a feeling that’s something he'll enjoy more than you."

  By the end of the day, I would see how true my father's words were.

  I didn't bother looking inside the velvet box; it didn't take a rocket scientist to tell me it was a bracelet, and probably an expensive one. I tossed the box into my purse and headed to work. I had to stop for gas and once I had pulled in, I noticed the black sedan was parking behind me at the pump. I was barely out of my car when the same large man got out, grabbed the nozzle, and began filling my gas tank. He reached into his pocket and handed me a large envelope.

  "Ms. O’Rourke please open this one. You wouldn't want to get me into trouble, would you?"

  His smile was genuine as he finished filling my tank. Once thing was for certain, Patrick surrounded himself with loyal and efficient people.

  I took the envelope and tore it open. Inside I found a gold credit card shaped card inside. A small note was wrapped around it.

  Christi,

  Next time you want to pay me a visit, come to my condo, not my old office.

  I want to keep you safe.

  Patrick

  I hadn't been in my office thirty seconds when a knock sounded on my door. A large bouquet of flowers made their way in followed by Charlotte. She sat them on the corner of my desk and gave me a simple lopsided grin.

  "Someone made an impression," she spoke in a singsong voice.

  "UGH!" I shouted as I flung myself into my chair back. I could just hear my father laughing at my pain.

  "I take it this isn't the first thing you've received this morning?" She questioned as she poured herself a cup of coffee before walking slowly over to my desk and taking a seat.

  "No, but I hope it's the last."

  "Why would you want that? You have a man paying some serious attention to you and you want him to stop?"

  Charlotte questioned with a shocking tone. I guess for some women this would be considered romantic, but for me, it felt like more of a challenge. Patrick was trying to wear me down.

  "Yes, because he's just...ugh!"

  Charlotte leaned over my desk and spoke very softly.

  "Talk to me, Christi." She looked at me with sadness and concern.

  "He wants to pursue a relationship with me. He asked me to give us a chance."

  "Do you not want that?"

  “I…I want...I don't think I can be what he needs."

  "What does he need? A girlfriend? Someone to share dinner with, go to movies?"

  "Charlotte, be serious. This is Patrick Malloy we're talking about, he doesn't stand in line for movies or take walks in the park on Sunday af
ternoon. He carries a gun, has men who carry guns surrounding him constantly, and has his office in a strip club. He's a mafia boss for God's sake! He needs some hardcore, gun-carrying, tramp-dressing, sex addict that's content to look the other way. I'll never be that." I said exasperated.

  Why was it that I was the only one who saw this? Patrick needed someone like the trashy, pleather wearing bitch I saw him with. He chose to have those kinds of women around him, so it was obvious to me that they were what he really preferred.

  Charlotte looked at her shoes and then back to me. "He also owns most of the buildings in this part of Chicago, contributes millions of dollars a year to various charities in the city, and attends mass at Saint Josephine's every Sunday with his family, which, correct me if I'm wrong, is way more than you. The last time you attended mass, young lady, was... when?"

  Goddamn it!

  I was scheduled to have a meeting with Nora and Paige this afternoon to begin planning Paige's engagement party. I had a few errands to run before the meeting, but honestly, I was worried that one of Patrick's men would follow me and pay for the tampons I needed to buy.

  Before I could get out the front door, Charlotte came running after me. "Christi, change of plans, you're now meeting the ladies at Amoré for lunch."

  I didn't have a single second to question her as a husky voice spoke from behind me.

  "Ms. O’Rourke, your car awaits."

  I turned my body toward the voice to see the same driver from last night opening the door of a black sedan. Deciding against an argument, I crossed the sidewalk and headed for the car. It wasn't this driver's fault for making me angry and I didn't plan to take it out on him. This kind man was only doing his job. I made myself comfortable as he closed the door behind me.

  “Sir?" I questioned once he was seated behind the wheel.

  "Yes, Ms. O’Rourke?"

  "Since I have a feeling that I'll be seeing quite a lot of you, may I have your name, please?"

  Looking at me through the rearview mirror, he nodded. "It's Angus, Angus McCoy, Ms. O’Rourke.” He spoke with a thick Irish accent and his grey eyes never meeting mine. His face reminded me of Liam Neeson.

  "Very well, Angus, and in the future, it's Christi."

  "I'm sorry, Ms. O’Rourke, Boss says I’m to refer to you as Ms. O’Rourke."

  "Well, Angus, he isn't here now, is he?”

  “Sorry, Ms. O’Rourke, I have orders to follow."

  I couldn't argue with Angus, he was loyal to Patrick even if he wasn't around. I would remember that in the future. Little did I know it would come in very handy.

  Angus drove me the twenty minutes to Amoré, a restaurant that was just north of Michigan Avenue. The large green awning hung over the entrance and covered the valet area. Angus pulled in and a man in a red suit opened my door for me.

  "Good afternoon, Ms. O’Rourke lovely to see you," the man in the suit addressed me. Clearly he worked for Patrick since he knew my name.

  "Thank you."

  The door to the restaurant was being held by a man in a black suit and I had no doubt he, too was one of Patricks hired hands. I made my way through the door, thanking the man who held it open for me. He tipped his head, but didn't make eye contact.

  A busty blonde in a tight, black business suit was waiting for me once I entered the foyer. She looked familiar, but I didn't have time to ponder on it long before she turned on her heel, curtly snapping at me. "Ms. O’Rourke, if you'd please follow me. Mrs. Malloy is waiting in the garden room."

  The blonde gave me a quick look up and down over her shoulder with a tight lip and a furrowed brow; she was clearly sizing me up.

  "Oh, Christi, how lovely to see you again, Lass.” Nora rose from her chair and greeted me with a kiss to the cheek. Paige was seated to her left and Allyson to her right. I saw only one empty chair and I waited for the blonde to finish pulling it back for me.

  "Thank you, I can manage.” I told the blonde as I took my chair from her.

  "As you wish," she snapped and then quickly turned on her heels and left the room.

  "Oh, dear, sorry about Simone, I'm not sure why Patrick hasn't fired her yet. She usually isn't this rude, though," Nora stated as I took my seat.

  "That's because she knows Patrick has his sights set on our Christi, Ma," Paige stated. “Caleb told me he kissed your forehead the other night at the bar. Word travels fast for such a big town.” Paige added

  "Like that would change anything when it comes to Patrick, you know as well as I do he doesn't cross those lines." Allyson spoke her voice serious.

  "Wait...Patrick owns this place, too?”

  All three ladies looked directly at me, and then began to giggle.

  "Yes, Christi, Patrick owns a lot of restaurants, bars, and hotels here in Chicago," Paige informed me.

  "Christi, please say you'll forgive my scheming from last night," Nora voiced, changing the subject completely.

  I smiled at her. I knew she only meant well and I highly doubted she had ever been told no a day in her life.

  "There's nothing to forgive, I assure you."

  "So, my son tells me you've given him some homework, so to speak."

  "I'm sorry?" I questioned, completely taken off guard.

  "Don't worry; I think its good for him to work for something. Your father was right in giving you the choice and not just handing your hand over to him. You're exactly what he needs, Christi. You have a good head on those pretty shoulders of yours, and good for you for not just falling down at his feet. He needs to work hard at something once in a while."

  I was astonished at Nora's words. She thought I was playing some game with Patrick, for what I wasn't certain.

  "Nora, I feel the need to clarify some things with you. I didn't agree to a relationship with your son not because I'm playing a game of sorts with him, but I honestly feel there's someone else more suited to his needs out there than me. I truly want nothing from him."

  "Told you," Allyson interjected.

  "Oh, I agree, Allyson, she's perfect." Nora took a sip from her tea cup and then addressed me again.

  "You're exactly what Patrick needs. He's always gotten everything handed to him, ever since he was in short pants. For the first time in his life I believe, he has to work at getting what he wants. Now, my question to you is...are you ready for tropical storm Patrick?"

  "I'm sorry, but I don't follow you, what storm?"

  All three ladies began looking at each other and laughing. Paige spoke first.

  "How many gifts have you gotten today?"

  "Three."

  "Only three? He really isn't taking this seriously, is he?"

  Paige had barely spoken the words, when the waiter brought a plate of food and set it down in front of me.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't order this," I said to him.

  "No, Ma'am, Mr. Malloy gave instructions to serve this to you with his compliments."

  I looked at the plate that now sat in front of me. It was a huge, thick-cut steak with the bone resting on one side. It looked incredible and smelled heavenly. I wanted nothing more than to dive into that steak.

  "Sir, could you remove this and then bring me a Caesar salad, please?"

  He looked at me bewildered and then took the plate away. "My pleasure, Madam."

  "You do realize you just sent back the house steak that's dry aged three months and costs over two hundred dollars?" Nora questioned me.

  "I didn't want steak for lunch, I wanted a salad. He can't make me eat something I don't want."

  "Oh, my sweet lass, you're more perfect than I thought. I would however, like to have tea with you this week. I have some things I would like to discuss with you."

  I wanted to simply tell Nora that she might as well tell me what she needed to here and now, something told me that not only was this family strong, but there were no secrets to be found inside the inner circle.

  My suspicions were correct when I did finally make it to the pharmacy; my purchases had a
lready been paid for, including Shannon's birth control . I made the two-block walk back to the office to find the black sedan was parked across the street. This time I felt bold and waved to the driver.

  Once inside, I tossed the bag into a chair and proceeded to finish my work. It had been nearly two hours since I'd had any deliveries and I began to think he had finally given up. I was certain Nora or one of the girls had phoned him and told him I had sent back his food, and even worse, that I had paid for my own lunch and gave the waiter a tip.

  I still hadn't opened the first gift he had given me this morning and honestly, I didn't feel as if I should. I was going to return them to him. It was only fair that if I didn't plan to have a relationship with him that they should go to someone who would.

  Charlotte came bouncing in and sat on the corner of my desk. "You have very large balls, my love."

  "What?"

  "Returning a gift from Patrick Malloy; that, my dear, is ballsy."

  I closed my eyes and tossed my head back into the headrest. I was so tired of this.

  "Charlotte, I'm returning everything. It isn't right to keep any of it."

  Charlotte then handed me a robin's egg blue box; the box that needed no introduction. "What the hell...when did that show up?"

  "Does it matter? It's from Tiffany's! Why not take it for a test drive?"

  I just rolled my eyes, shaking my head. This was just too much. Next he would be sending me a diamond-studded pistol with a matching leather combination holster and garter belt.

  The box sat on my desk, taunting me, teasing me. I wanted so badly to pull those white ribbons off and tear into that blue box, but I couldn't. I would return both boxes and enough money to cover all the purchases he'd made today. He clearly didn't get me. I wasn't someone who could be bribed with bobbles and shiny objects. I needed to see real tangible proof that he wanted to be with me. Patrick Malloy was obviously not the guy for me.

  Tossing the blue box into my purse, I headed to the one place I knew he would be. Ignoring the black sedan that was still parked across the street, I jumped into my car and then drove to the club. I had what I would say to him all planned out. I would be polite, yet firm. As I turned the corner and parked my car in the parking lot, I made certain my pepper spray was still in my purse.