by E. R. Fallon
“If she gives us her word then I’m sure it’s good,” Vito told his men.
“All right,” Kevin said. “Let’s say you get control and we even help you get control, what would you have to offer us that the McCarthys already don’t?”
“I’d give you a larger percentage of everything. Vito’s told me that right now they give you half.”
“That’s correct,” Billy said.
“I would give you fifty-five percent,” she said, starting with the lower number.
Kevin chuckled. “Fifty-five? We’re not going to go to the boss with that.”
Camille didn’t want them to see her face reddening, which she could feel, so she tilted her head, breathed out quietly and sat up. “All right,” she said. “Sixty.”
“That’s better,” Kevin said. “How about seventy-five?”
Camille stared at him.
Kevin shrugged. “The boss always wants the highest number.”
She looked at Billy.
“What he says is true,” Billy told her.
“Sixty-five,” Camille said.
“Seventy percent and you’re on your own taking control, but if you do get control we don’t come in and take it from you,” Kevin replied. “We won’t resist you operating in the neighborhood. We’ll let you operate if you give us our share. That’s how we’ve always done business with you Irish.”
Camille wasn’t in a position to negotiate and she didn’t trust that Kevin would ever help her physically take control from Violet, so she said, “All right.”
“It’s not set in stone,” Billy said. “We’ll have to speak to the boss about this, of course, to see what he wants to do.”
“Don’t make this personal, Billy,” she told him carefully.
“No, this is just how we do things,” Billy replied.
“Yeah, Camille, we need to see what the boss thinks,” Vito said. “If he wants to go ahead then we’re good to go. We’ll go speak with him and I’ll let you know what he says.”
A partnership with the Alfonsi family would mean that she would be able to operate her organization once she gained control from Violet and her mother, for if the Italians weren’t with her they’d be against her, and without their cooperation they might kill her if she took over the neighborhood and didn’t pay them. So, she had no choice but to work with them, and if they wouldn’t work with her once she gained control then she wouldn’t be able to run the neighborhood. Camille hoped they would want to work with her, and if they wouldn’t then she would just have to think of some way to deal with them.
“I think that’s all, then,” Kevin told her as he stood up. “Vito will let you know what the boss says.”
“I hope you know how much I will value a partnership,” Camille said as she rose.
Vito said, “Camille, we’ll let you know.”
She shot him a warning look and he said, “But of course we hope it works out for everyone.”
Kevin opened the door for her, and she stepped outside. She felt someone tug her sleeve as she started walking down the hallway and turned around to see Billy standing there.
“You’re just going to walk away?” he asked her.
She could see Kevin and Vito speaking outside the doorway behind him. She didn’t want Billy to make a scene, something he was prone to doing so she said, “Billy, we shouldn’t be having this conversation. This was supposed to be a business meeting, that’s all.”
“You never told me who you’re seeing. Or you won’t tell me.”
“Because it’s none of your business. We have nothing to do with each other anymore.”
“I still care about you.” He stepped closer and looked down at her with his piercing blue eyes. “I want to make sure he’s good enough for you.”
Camille didn’t trust Billy not to do anything to Johnny if she told him Johnny’s name. Johnny was a good guy, but even if Camille told Billy that he might still invent things about Johnny in his head and then snap for no reason.
“He is,” Camille said. “And if you trust me, you’ll believe me when I tell you that.” She could hear the lunch crowd leaving the restaurant in the distance.
“What does he do?” Billy asked. “Does he have a job?”
“Yes,” Camille replied.
“What is it?”
“It’s like yours,” she said.
“He’s a gangster?” Billy’s gaze darkened.
Camille hesitated then nodded.
“Which one? Do I know him?” Billy asked.
“No, I don’t think you know him.”
“He’s not with Violet and her mother, is he?”
“No, no.”
“Then he’s, what, with one of the other Italian families?”
“No.”
“Then he’s, what, Cuban?”
Camille nodded, and Billy crinkled his nose.
“He’s a good guy,” Camille told him.
“I can’t believe you left me for this guy,” Billy said, shaking his head.
“I didn’t leave you for him. I didn’t even know him when we were together. I only recently met him.” She almost said, I left you because I fell out of love with you.
“Then how can you be so sure about him?” Billy raised his voice and Vito and Kevin stopped talking and watched them.
“Because our fathers were best friends,” she replied.
“You knew him when you were kids?”
Camille shook her head. “No, but my mother talked about his father enough that I feel like I knew him.”
“Camille, what are you talking about? You don’t know this guy. He could be dangerous. What’s his name? I’ll ask around about him for you.”
“I’m not giving you his name. I know better than to do that.”
Billy frowned. “Maybe I’ll find out on my own. Or maybe if you don’t tell me I’ll speak with the boss and suggest he declines your offer.”
Camille stepped forward and got as close to his face as she could, given their height difference. She pointed her finger at him. “Don’t threaten me.”
Vito and Kevin stopped as they walked past them to leave.
“Is everything all right?” Kevin asked.
“Yeah,” Camille said. “I was just leaving.” She glared at Billy, who didn’t say anything.
The three men lingered behind while she walked all the way down the hallway and past the hostess who’d greeted her on her arrival. Camille wondered what the three of them were discussing. Her, probably. And would Billy tell the boss not to work with her? She wouldn’t put it past him.
The hostess smiled at her and Camille left the restaurant.
12
Johnny had insisted on picking her up at her apartment in his car rather than her meeting him at the pier because it wasn’t safe at night. At dusk she went outside and waited for him on her front steps, wearing her leather jacket with her father’s gun tucked inside. She kept a close eye on her surroundings, something she had done ever since confronting Violet and her mother, for she knew what that family was capable of. Her mother had called her earlier and it appeared that Vito had said nothing about the meeting to her, but she didn’t think her mother would have minded it if he had. She felt her mother would have been proud of her for thinking so far ahead.
The weather had turned cooler as the night arrived, and there were still plenty of people walking the streets, coming home from work and going out for the night, children playing on the sidewalk and teenagers gathering on the steps of the nearby apartment buildings, smoking and laughing. Sometimes she longed to be that carefree again, to be released from her troubles and the idea of the dangerous fate that might await her, for she knew that being male or female didn’t make a difference in the life of crime, you could still find trouble.
Johnny pulled up in a small red car that looked older than she would have imagined him driving and waved to her. She didn’t mind the old car. Billy had been a flashy guy and things hadn’t turned out well for them. Billy had bee
n too controlling of her, wanting to know what she did and who she saw. How he’d tried to get Johnny’s name out of her had been a good example of that. She’d never told him why she felt things hadn’t worked out between them, because she knew he wouldn’t see what he’d done was wrong. She’d never told her mother about Billy’s controlling side, or anyone. But she imagined that she would tell Johnny someday.
There wasn’t a parking space for Johnny’s car, so he stopped next to two parked cars and Camille hurried to get inside before someone beeped because Johnny blocked the road.
“How are you?” he asked her.
She hesitated then kissed him on the cheek. Soft rock music played on the radio.
He touched his face and smiled. “That was nice.”
Johnny drove off and they waited in traffic on the next street.
“I must admit I was pretty surprised when you called me up and asked me to teach you to shoot. It’s not exactly what comes to mind when you think of a date.”
Camille shrugged. “I don’t have a father to ask so I thought I’d ask you.”
“And I’m happy to oblige. But I must ask, you aren’t planning on doing anything dangerous, are you?”
“I’m going to make a name for myself in the neighborhood,” she stated.
“The McCarthys run the Irish side of things in that neighborhood,” Johnny said.
“Yeah, and I think they shouldn’t.”
Johnny looked at her with a puzzled expression. “Why?” Then he looked a little worried.
If she told him the truth then it would mean revealing who her father was, and she didn’t know how he’d react, if he’d be bothered that she’d kept it a secret from him.
“I don’t know,” she replied. “I just don’t like them. I think it’s time for someone else to take control. I no longer work for them.”
“They fired you?”
“Not exactly.”
“I don’t like them either,” Johnny said as the traffic moved again. The wind from Johnny’s open window blew her hair in her face and she pushed it out of her eyes. “But the McCarthys have run the neighborhood since forever and that’s always how it’s been. I wouldn’t mess with them if I were you. They’re dangerous.”
She was tempted to ask him if he would help her, but she didn’t know him well enough.
“Why do you dislike them so much?” Johnny asked her. “I don’t like them because of the Irish and their history with my father, but why do you hate them?”
If she told him her own history with the McCarthys then he might figure out that she was Colin O’Brien’s daughter.
“I have my reasons,” she said, and didn’t elaborate. Luckily Johnny was polite enough not to press her for more information.
“What did you do today if you weren’t working?” he asked her in a friendly way. “Are you going to look for a new job?”
“I’m thinking of becoming an independent contractor of sorts. I have some money saved. How far is this pier we’re going to? You said it was on the Hudson River, right?”
“Yeah, there’s never anybody there, and there’s an old warehouse there where some of my guys and I go to shoot. It’s good practice if you want to learn. We should be there soon.”
“I met with the Italian mafia earlier,” she told him. “That’s what I was doing.”
His mouth dropped a little and he took his eyes off the traffic to look at her. “Camille, what did you just say?”
“That’s the truth. I want to push out Violet and her mother and take over.”
“Why? What’s your history with them? It must be something big.”
“Someday I’ll tell you. Okay? Just trust me.” She looked him deep in the eyes and he nodded.
“I can help you, you know,” Johnny said, with his gaze on the road again. “Is the mafia going to work with you?”
“I’m not sure. And no, I couldn’t ask you to do that, not after what you said the Irish did to your father.”
“You’re not like the rest of them, I can trust you. Let me help you.”
“No,” Camille said. “I couldn’t ask that of you. I also should be able to do this on my own, I don’t want a man always having to help me, no offense.”
“You’re independent, I admire that. We’re here.”
The car stopped. Camille hadn’t been paying attention as he drove, but now she looked at the stark urban landscape around her. They were parked by an old pier that seemed to not be in use any longer. The great river rippled and shone like oil under the steady moonlight. At the other side of the car, the side not facing the river, there was a large, vacant warehouse with its windows broken and trash and rubble piled high around it. She didn’t see anybody around, as Johnny had promised.
“You’re sure no one comes here?” she asked him just in case.
“Just homeless people sometimes but they never bother us.” Johnny gestured at a group of people camped out in the distance. He shut off the engine and the music stopped. He stepped outside, walked around the front of the car, and opened Camille’s door.
“So, no cops are going to show up?” she asked him before getting out.
Johnny shook his head. “I promise.”
“Okay, I hope so because I don’t feel like getting arrested tonight.” She smiled at him.
“Only tonight?” Johnny teased her, making her feel like a teenager again.
Outside she walked toward the river and he followed her.
“I haven’t seen it this close up in years,” she told him. The fresh smell of the water circulated in the wind and it felt like it could rain as a chill touched her skin. “We better hurry, I think it’s going to rain.”
Johnny held out his hand as if to test the air. “I think you’re right. But we have time. Where’s your gun?”
Camille took her gun out of her jacket and showed it to Johnny. “It was my father’s.”
“He gave it to you?”
“No, I was too young when he died. My mother, she gave it to me.”
“Your mother must be some kind of woman.”
“She is,” Camille said with a laugh.
Johnny reached around to the other side of his waistband and removed his gun. “You might want to get a holster,” he told her. “It’s dangerous keeping it in your pocket like that.”
“Where am I supposed to keep it, my purse?” she teased him.
Johnny smiled. “No, but it could go off accidentally if you keep it in your pocket.”
“You keep yours close to you.”
“Yeah, but I’m experienced.”
“I will be someday too,” she said in a matter of fact way. “Maybe I’ll get one,” she said, but didn’t promise.
“Have you ever swum in the river?” he asked her, looking at the water.
“No. Have you?”
“Yeah, a couple of times.”
“It’s too polluted,” she insisted.
“Not if you wash off after.”
“I’m not going swimming with you,” she said. “Not today anyway.”
“I’ll get you to go with me some time,” he said with a smile.
“Are we going to practice out here or inside that old building?” she asked, pointing at the warehouse.
“That’s what we’re going to shoot at, there are still some windows left to break.”
“And the cops really won’t come around?” she asked, still unsure.
“They don’t come down here, trust me.”
“I want to trust you, but I don’t know you that well.”
To her surprise, he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close to him. “Trust me, I care about you.”
She found the gesture sweet and it warmed her on the inside. She slowly rested her head on his shoulder. Now felt like the right time to tell him.
“I’m pretty sure our fathers knew each other,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“My father’s name was Colin O’Brien. My mother told me ab
out my dad’s friend named Johnny Garcia, and he was in a gang like you said your dad was. I think your dad and mine were best friends when they were kids.”
Johnny narrowed his gaze on her.
“You really didn’t know, did you?” she said.
Johnny released her from his embrace. “You knew this the whole time and didn’t tell me?” He had a wounded look on his face.
“I suspected but wasn’t sure,” Camille replied.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. I can’t put words to it. I like you and I didn’t want it to come between us.”
“But why would it come between us if they were friends, not enemies?”
“I don’t know, I just thought it would somehow change things.” Camille disliked conflict so she started to step away toward the road to walk away.
“Where are you going?” Johnny called out.
“You’re angry, it’s better if I leave,” she replied over her shoulder.
“Wait,” he said, jogging over to her. “I’m not angry. I just don’t understand why you kept it a secret. Please don’t leave.” He reached for her hand and she let him hold hers.
His moved his finger in circles in her palm and she looked at him. “I don’t know why I didn’t tell you my suspicions. I thought about it but just never did. I’m sorry,” she said.
“That’s okay, I’m not angry,” he said, touching her hair. “Now that I know, I feel even more of a connection to you.”
“The McCarthys, they killed my father,” she said, looking up at him.
“Why?” Johnny asked her. “He owed them money?”
“No, my dad was a gangster. He worked for them.”
“Your father was an Irish gangster?” Johnny looked hurt that she’d hid this from him also.
“Yes, but he was friends with your father. His death devastated him.”
Johnny’s eyes showed years of pain. “It’s all right, Camille,” he said, patting her shoulder, “I believe you.”
“You have to believe me,” she said. “My dad would never have hurt him. He loved your father.”
“I believe you,” Johnny said quietly. He brushed her hair away from her forehead and kissed her there.
The air felt heavy and rain seemed imminent.
