by Ellie Jean
Sitting down, I take a glass of water from Dad’s desk, trying to calm myself. “So, what do they want with you now? Surely they have enough men to deal with their problems without dragging you into anything else. You’re an old man for Christ’s sake.”
“Umm. Enough with the old man comment.” A smile tugs at my father’s lips. I love riling him up about his age. He should be retiring, but refuses.
“I don’t know what they want yet, probably my money or influence on something they can’t get passed by the authorities.” Placing his hands on my shoulders, his warmth permeates through me. “I’m sure it will be nothing major.”
“You need to be careful, Dad.”
“And you need not to worry yourself about me. I have my security and a few hidden tricks. I’ve played this rodeo a few times with them. We know our boundaries and specialties. This old dog isn’t ready to lie down just yet.”
And there it is. He’s been dealing with them on and off for years. No doubt a tight alliance after such a long time but one which could prove deadly if he doesn’t respond how they want. The mafia and its connections were immoral, vicious, and deadly.
A sick rumbling rolls through my stomach and I get up.
“I don’t like this at all.” Standing up, I eyeball my father, trying to gain some of my normal strength back.
“Unfortunately, this is how it has to be. Better to work with the Ferraro family than against them.” Patting me on the head, he walks to his desk and sits behind it.
I’ve been dismissed.
“Should I be worried?” Sounding stronger than I feel, I place my hands on my hips like the brat I am.
“You know I won’t let anything happen to you, Caroline. Nothing’s changed from last week to yesterday or today. Just you’re now more informed.”
“More like I’ve been told to accept my father is dealing in the black market and to butt out.” Turning on my high heels, I stride to the doorway. “Let me know if…. No, you won’t. I’m stupid to think you will. Bye, Dad.”
Tension cramps at my limbs and the fake smile plastered on my face leaving my father’s office almost cracks my skin.
I need to fire or fuck someone.
Chuck
“What the fuck happened to you?”
Stepping in to my boss’s office at ten a.m. on the dot, I guess I look like hell. “I met my father.” A simple statement, but one that’s turned my world upside fucking down.
“I understand completely how a father can change your life in a matter of seconds.” He looks at the photo of his wife on his desk and after a few seconds he finally smiles. “But does it normally end with you dark-eyed with busted knuckles and bruises?” Dex sits behind his desk with concern etched into his face, guiding me to sit in the lush black leather chair in front of his throne.
“Considering I didn’t know my father was alive until a day and a half ago, I couldn’t really tell you.” Running my injured hands through my hair, I take a breath, Dexter keeps his focus on my face. “Once from one meeting, would suggest yes.”
“You say, you thought he was dead?” Crossing his arms, he continues, “Why?” Nothing like getting scrutinized by your employer and not knowing what I should and shouldn’t tell people. If Mom was being truthful now, am I supposed to tell people who my father is?
Shrugging my shoulders, I answer truthfully. Dexter Truitt is a force all of his own in this town and I trust him more than my newly found father. “Up until Sunday afternoon, I believed my father was killed in a workplace accident, until I was whisked away to some palatial building by Sal and Nizo where I met a man claiming to be my father. Trusting my mother all of these years was a mistake. She’d hidden the truth from me.”
With a thoughtful look on his face, he’s scrutinizing what I’m saying. “I’ve lied at times and let it be known I thought it right. But a wise man once told me lies will eventually come out and the truth will set you free. He was right, it did for me.”
“At the moment it feels like I’m being held in a choke hold.”
“She must have good reason. Mothers don’t normally lie to their children.” Dex’s face softens. “Why aren’t you excited by this news. Fathers have their ways of driving you mad and even downright furious, but this could be a blessing. Clearly taking it out on your hands has been first priority over sleep and your dress.”
Looking down at my clothes, I have on my work maintenance uniform, mismatched socks and my hair is all over the place. “Sleep has been the last thing on my mind. I’m trying to work out who the fuck Tomme Basilio is and why he has come looking for me now?”
“Shit.” Dex flies out of his chair and rounds the table to his whisky collection, pouring us both two fingers of twelve-year-old Macallans at ten in the morning. “Are you fucking serious?”
“That name means something to you?” Downing my drink, I watch the normally cool and composed Dexter carefully.
“It means something to every mafia family around here. Including anyone associated with drugs, money, girls, and guns. He’s not a man or family you want to cross.”
“I haven’t crossed paths with him, I’ve collided with him. I am his family, his son apparently. He’s ordered me to be back to his home today but I want no part of it.” Frustration blurs my vision momentarily.
“With a guy like Basilio, you won’t have a choice.” Dex pours us another amount of liquor. “He takes what he wants and destroys what doesn’t fit into his plans.”
I have no clue how I’m going to handle this disaster with my newfound father, but I’m not giving up on my dream for anyone. Pouring the amber liquid down my throat, I fist my left hand out of habit.
“All I want to do is fight for the heavyweight title. Is that too much to fucking ask?” Looking up at the ceiling, I raise from my seat trying to contain my rising anger. “Look man, I’m sorry to dump this on you. I thought I’d come by and see you as we arranged. Are you willing to help me still?”
“He is going to be a problem. One that won’t go away. I suggest you deal with this first and when you’re ready…”
“I’m ready now. I couldn’t give a fuck about who this man thinks he is and who he thinks I am. I know I have been waiting to get a shot at the title and it’s gonna happen in a few months. Hopefully with your help. But if you’d prefer not to, given my new found family ties, I understand.”
Straightening his tie and his stance, my boss looks like the wealthy, powerful man I have come to know over the past years of employment. “I like a good challenge, so I’m in. I will organize money, promoting and anything else you need, ask. Going against Tomme Basilio for most is instant suicide, but I have a gut feeling nothing is going to happen to you or me. But, if at any stage I think my family is at risk, I will pull out without any explanation. Protecting what’s mine must come first.”
Shaking his hand, I understand his concern for his wife and children. “That works for me. I’ll speak to Andre and Cristo and see what else they need help with.”
A bang echoes through the room.
“Dex… I need your help!” Whipping my head to the door, a troubled female voice startles us both.
A tall blonde clad in a tight black skirt and jacket strides into the office like it’s hers, not the CEO’s, focusing all of her energy on him.
“Caroline?” Dex crosses his arms in annoyance. “What the fuck? You can’t just burst in here unannounced.”
Lifting my eyes from her heels, across sculptured calf muscles and up to her ass, my mouth lifts at the corners for the first time since my nightmare began. In a second, I have my eyes glued to the sexy woman who escaped my clutches a few nights ago.
“Caro?” With drawn brows, I sense the real urgency in her tone. Connecting our eyes, a hint of worry flashes over her bright blues before she gasps and strides out of the office.
Again…
Really?
Without a second glance at Dex, I walk with purpose out the door, following her. I won’t let her s
lip away without a discussion or phone number this time.
“Caroline.” My voice booms in the reception area with determination. “Stop.”
The clicking of her heels stop and she stands by the elevator door, not moving. Her shoulders rise up and down rapidly. Swiping my hand across her neck, pulling back a stray piece of hair escaping her tight bun. My cock hardens looking at her sensual neck.
“Blossom, what’s got you so rattled?” Leaning in, green apple scent hits my nose. My eyes close for a second.
“Nothing I can’t handle.” Her manicured nail stabs the button while her eyes stare at the timber wall. There’s no playfulness from the other night.
“Caro, let me help you.” I have no idea why the heck I feel the need to help this woman. I hardly know her except she loves a good fuck and isn’t afraid to speak her mind. But the vulnerability in her voice and the contradiction she is, tight professional suit to skinny jeans, bright pink lipstick and corset, I want to get to know her story. With no desire to have more than a one-night stand, usually because of the time my boxing takes up, I shake my head at myself.
Metal doors slide open and my hand reaches to hold it open. Whispering, “Let me help you” again, she steps in and looks at me wide eyed, with suspicion or wonder? Stepping to the side after a few seconds, I follow her in.
“I’m hungry.” Abrupt and almost rude, she stands with a rigid and professional posture. She’s three-hundred and sixty degrees the complete opposite from her pliable, chatty self I remember from the other night.
“Well, we’ll fix this first.”
Chuck
“I really don’t need help.” Her blues penetrate me with sincerity. I would almost believe her if I hadn’t heard the worry in her voice as she barreled into Dex’s office.
“Or is it you just don’t need my help?” I hit the red stop button and the car halts fast.
“What the schnookerdookies are you doing?” Her high-pitched squeal makes me jump and inside laugh.
My breath hitches and I can’t hold back the laugh. “Holy hell, you should warn a guy before you scream that out.” How does one get used to that noise?
Agitation is written across her face, she ignores my outburst. “Why would I need your help, I don’t know you.”
“You knew me well enough to fuck me.” Leaning against the metal interior, I watch her trying to keep her composure.
“Just a random night. We both got what we wanted.” Her eyes dart around the box, looking at everything except me. A flash of tightness grip my chest. Why?
“I sure did and I remember your tight little pussy clenching my cock and got what it needed too.”
A flash of enjoyment washes across her face before it returns to stone.
“My backs still got lingering lioness marks down it.” Lifting my work shirt, I reveal her handiwork.
Her breath grabs, shoulders release marginally. “I needed something to grip.” A smile almost breaks through.
“I’m glad you did.” I lighten my tone. “Why did you leave?” To be honest, caring about a woman leaving my apartment has never given me a second thought. Always being glad not to have to put up with the clinginess afterward. It saves many awkward words. Pushing slightly off the wall, I lean toward her sweet smell and position my hand carefully behind her neck and one behind her back. Her body softens slightly. My lips close to hers, I whisper, “I want to taste your mouth.”
I don’t wait for permission, closing my lips to hers, relishing their luscious taste. With everything going on, I want to lose myself in this woman again. Within a few seconds, her stiffness melts and she’s taking mine like she’s starving, gripping my shirt. My heart pounds faster with each whimper and mewl echoing through the elevator. Holding her to me, a current runs through me like none other.
A shrill alarm sounds.
We both jump.
It’s my job to be fixing elevator stoppages, not creating them.
Releasing with a laugh, our breathing rapid, Caroline doesn’t move away. I stare at her beauty.
“I enjoyed that.” I run my fingers lightly over her mouth.
A small smile graces her gorgeous face and a glimpse of the Caro from the other night appears.
“I did too.”
The alarm stops and starts again. I hit the red button although my hand hesitates momentarily wondering if I’m doing the right thing. My lips want a whole lot more.
“I believe you were hungry.” The elevator jolts Caro into my body. I hold her steady against my chest. We continue on our downward journey together.
“Umm. Now I’m not sure what I am hungry for.” I relate.
“I know a place which has amazing fingers and delicious balls.”
I try to remain serious but fail when her mouth forms an o.
“Do you now? And how many times have you served them up to a woman you have only just met?”
“None. I’ve been keeping it a secret until I met someone worthy of them.” I gaze at her with puppy dog eyes. “I couldn’t have the cafe overrun with just any ol’ person.”
Clasping my fingers around her delicate hand, the doors slide open and I pull her out with me. Her heels follow my lead and the sunshine envelops us as we hit the pavement outside the large building.
“Can anyone sample the goods?” Her legs continue moving with mine without a pause.
“Only pretty blonde businesswomen, who yell strange words can.” We both try to hold our laughter in.
“I think I would like to try these, as I said, I am starving.”
It doesn’t escape my notice she is following my lead, instead of issuing demands. Her dress, her rigidity and scowl suggest a woman who is used to demanding and getting her own way.
“I had a feeling you might. I’m ravenous now for some reason.” Bustling through the Manhattan crowds, our fingers stay latched. I like it. The connection, the link, the softness of her skin and the continuous surge of energy coursing between them. It takes seven minutes until we are sitting in a cafe off the main avenue.
I guide her to the free table in the corner. There’s only two other tables occupied with a single gentleman and a lady with small children at the other. The waitress eyes me and walks over.
“Hey ya, Sansone. What will it be today?” I don’t miss the way her eyes zone in on Caroline. Coming in here by myself one hundred percent of the time, I get she’s curious.
“Martha, this is Caroline. I’ve told her how good your food here is. You’d better not disappoint me today.”
She clutches her heart like she’s having a heart attack, but continues smiling. “You know darn well I’d never let you leave here unsatisfied.” Martha winks at Caroline and I burst out laughing.
“Just so has it, today we have your favorite back on the menu specials board—Spicy and Smokey Candied Bacon Burger.”
“Chuck told me about your fingers and balls and how good they are.”
Martha bursts out laughing. Caroline looks at her seriously.
“I don’t have balls.” Looking down at her legs, Caroline and I start to laugh. “And no one has ever complained about my fingers.”
I can’t hold it in any longer. Almost snorting, I laugh with Caro and Martha joining in.
“You two are trouble.” Martha places the menus down and tries to compose herself.
Looking at each other, we raise our eyebrows in question.
“I’ll have the burger. They’ve proven to be delicious.” I stare at Caroline and wink.
“Well, since balls are off the menu, I’ll take the same as Chuck and a side of fried cheese fingers as well. Can I have a water too please?”
Fanning herself dramatically, Martha watches Caroline and I intently.
“Are you sure, honey? The burgers are mighty big.”
“If he says it’s good, he hasn’t led me astray yet so I’ll give it a go.”
Nodding, she turns with her note pad while her shoulders raise with a shrug.
“You’re in fo
r a treat.” I reach my hand over the top of hers and leave it there.
“I believe I am. Although Martha must think we are lunatics.” Caroline relaxes her shoulders and takes in a cleansing breath. My hand holds firmly on hers.
“I’ve been coming here for a while now and she’s always up for a laugh.”
“I think we provided her with one today.”
“Actually, look at this.” Grabbing my phone, I hit my favorites clicking a clip Martha showed me months ago. A stomach rolling laugh already bubbles, remembering the stupidity of the clip.
Handing the phone to Caroline, her eyes take in the screen. Wide eyes take in an Australian guy who is trying to get his daughter to say Dada, but each time he says “Dada” a goat near them lets out a long “baa.” Caroline erupts into laughter when the chubby baby girl belly laughs each time the goat lets out the loud sound.
“What is…” Laughing at the baby and goat, she steadies herself. “What the schnookerdookies am I watching?”
Leaning across her shoulder, the man continues, “Say Dada…Dada.”
“Baa.”
Giggle. Giggle.
Caro relaxes, wide mouthed and laughing. I’ve made progress.
“I don’t know what I am watching but I cannot wipe the smile from my face.”
“Good. That’s why I showed you. Your alter ego, the carefree, perky woman is in there somewhere. She needs to come out more often.” Finishing up the video, we both smile, her shoulders relaxed.
“Where do I find more of that? I need to watch that a few times a day for stress relief.”
“YouTube, Chance Bateman’s channel. Each one of them ridiculous but funny. I’m up for more if you need company to watch them.” Absurd, bizarre and ludicrous, but highly addictive.
“I may take you up on that.”
Looking at Caroline the other night, I saw so much that isn’t here today, yet there’s so much more here I didn’t see then. Taken immediately by her beauty, today I can see there’s a whole other side to Caro. “How do you know Dex?”
