The other bartender, Sam, came out with a bucket of ice and filled the tray under the beer taps. Charles looked at Liam. “Take the rest of the night off. Sam will be able to finish tending to the bar.”
Without paying for his drink, Alberto got up. Liam punched out to end his shift as Sam worked around him.
What the hell was that? Why was Alberto so rough with Liam? What did Liam put in the folded newspaper? The way Alberto tucked it into his coat made me think it was money. Charles saw Alberto scare the shit out of Liam but didn’t stop the mobster. I wondered if Charles would call the police if Alberto punched Liam or if Alberto would get away with it because of his last name.
I stepped out of the kitchen and went to the bar. Filling my plastic cup with ginger ale from the soda fountain was the perfect cover to watch Charles interact with Alberto. My gut was telling me that Charles may be sugarcoating whatever information he might give to Henry about his relationship with the men.
Alberto and the brute followed Charles to the basement staircase. Charles motioned for Alberto to go downstairs first, and Alberto did. Charles followed him. After a few minutes, he came back up and clipped the velvet rope across the threshold of the basement by securing it to metal rings on either side of the wall. The mobster’s friend stood guard at the top of the stairs the whole time. He slammed his hand on top of Charles’s open palm in brief but forceful contact. Charles let go as if he still had something in his hand, probably cash.
Yeah, there is definitely something about Charles I don’t like.
∞ ∞ ∞
A few days later, my phone rang. It was Henry. “I just wanted to let you know what I found out about the mob connection.”
My breath hitched in anticipation of bad news. I exhaled so I could speak. “Thanks.” I sat down on the edge of my seat. “I wondered about that.”
“Finn, my father, has had a longstanding relationship with some members of the Bugiardini family. The short version is nothing is being done illegally. At least nothing Charles could find evidence to support.”
I relaxed and leaned back onto the couch cushions. “That has to be a relief!” Then again, his source was shady Charles.
“Sort of.” I heard a high-pitched whistle from what could have been a tea kettle. “But even having any kind of relationship with them can’t be a good idea.”
I wished Henry’s family had never said one word to the mafia, because Henry was caught in the middle, dealing with whatever screwed-up relationship his father had with them. I tried to change the subject. “Having some tea?”
“Yeah, trying to relax. Supposedly, Dad has some sort of diary. He can’t remember where he put it, though. His memory is fuzzy. I’d love to be able to find it. It could shed some light on what his relationship with them has been like.”
“I’m sure it could. I hope you find it one day.” I could tell he needed to vent more about his family. He may not want to talk to his wife about it and worry her. At least he knew he could always talk to me.
“Remember how you walked in the office when Charles and I were discussing the disaster about not enough beer being ordered for St. Patrick’s Day?”
“Sure do.”
On the other end, I heard clanging that sounded like a spoon stirring sugar in tea. “Turns out that Charles got some sort of deal on a last-minute beer delivery from that family. I was furious when he told me. I told him no more buying anything from them, ever! I also wasn’t happy about that poker party lasting until four in the morning and them locking the place up after they left. It seems like I have more than my dad’s dementia to be concerned with.”
My heart sank. “You can vent to me anytime. Well, as long as you don’t tell me anything I shouldn’t know.” Henry would never do anything illegal, and he’d never share any information that would make me liable if I didn’t tell the police. As soon as I said it, I regretted it. The silence on the other end was killing me. “Henry, I was joking.” Granted it was a one I shouldn’t have said. “I mean, I know you wouldn’t do that!”
“It’s okay, Amber. I just wish you never got caught up in this awful situation. When I offered you this job, I didn’t know about this mess. I shouldn’t have learned about it from you. My family should have told me. If you want to look for another job, I understand.” He sighed.
“No, Henry. What kind of friend would I be if I left you in your hour of need? You need a friend you can trust.” There was no way I was bailing on him.
“Thanks, Amber. You’re the best.”
I smiled. Henry was a close friend, and I wanted to be there for him. I was glad he confided in me. “Call me anytime.”
∞ ∞ ∞
I arrived at Socialite, the boutique where you had to be one to afford anything. Mercedes chatted with a customer as she carefully folded the garments into a shiny white bag.
Daisy came out of the back room. She walked over. “Hey, Amber. I just need to do something, then we can go to lunch. Is that okay?”
“Sure.”
“Great. I’m glad I asked you to meet me today, because you might be able to help us out.”
I couldn’t image how.
“I’ll be back.” She went into a dressing room then came out with an evening gown that looked too snug for my figure. She held it up to my body on the hanger and looked me up and down. “It would look great on you. How do you feel about trying on some clothes for us?”
I twisted my lower lip. “Ah, maybe… I don’t know.” I was afraid it wouldn’t fit. Even though I was trim, I didn’t know if I could squeeze into the dress.
“Feel the fabric.” She handed it over.
I held the satin dress. The silky texture would be light and luxurious to wear.
“We had scheduled models to wear outfits that we’re ordering for the next season, to see how the fabric looks. They were supposed to be here earlier this morning. One called in sick, and the agency had trouble filling her spot on short notice. The other one is here. She has to leave soon, and the replacement can’t make it till later. It would be better to get it done now and cancel the replacement.”
I really didn’t know if I’d fit. They’d hired models to wear the clothes. I ran my finger along the hemline. “I want to. Do you have a bigger size?” It was something I bet the models never asked.
“No, but I bet it will fit. Can you try?” She looked at me with puppy-dog eyes. “I’d really appreciate it.”
“Okay.” I couldn’t say no to that face. I followed her.
Daisy stopped at a dressing room, and I saw her look at the pumps she was wearing and compare them to my sneakers. My tennis shoes would clash with the elegant dresses.
“Looks like you wear my size.” She took off her shoes. “See if you can wear these. You can change in here.” She nodded at the room. “Start with the lace dress first. The satin one you’re holding will be last.”
I regretted not using the bathroom before leaving the apartment. The coffee on the walk over didn’t help, either. I hung up the dresses. “I’d better use your restroom first.”
She pointed to a small hallway as I took off my shoes and slipped on the heels. “Go past that office, and it will be the next door.”
While using the facilities, I could hear men talking then clanging below. It sounded like something was being unloaded. I wondered what it was.
When I came out of the bathroom, a refined-looking older woman greeted me. She looked like the kind who got lots of injections, bought tons of cosmetics, and made trips to the salon weekly.
“This way, dear.” She motioned back to the dressing rooms.
Where else did she think I’d go? I headed that way.
“You must be Amber.”
I opened the dressing room door and stepped in. Turning to face her, I said, “That’s me.”
“I’m Daisy’s boss, Cassie. When you’re ready, come out, and we’ll see how it looks.”
I nodded and shut the door. The first dress was an A-line lace cocktail dre
ss. The long sleeves were loose at the wrist. The fabric was soft against my skin.
When I stepped out of the room, Daisy and Cassie were facing me, waiting. Mercedes stood by the register.
“Walk to us and turn around once. Then, walk toward the mirrors at the end of the hallway,” Cassie said, looking me up and down.
I did as she instructed, stopping at the mirror.
“Sit on the chair in the corner,” Cassie said.
I sat and crossed my legs.
Cassie huffed. “Sit like a lady and cross your ankles.”
I did. Wow! What does she think I am?
Daisy stood behind Cassie and mouthed the word “sorry.”
Cassie’s abrupt comments set the tone of the whole affair. She was all business, not one for “please” or “thank you.” She realizes I’m doing Daisy a favor, right?
The door opened to another dressing room. A young woman came out wearing the same style of dress but in a different fabric. She walked toward them, paused, turned, and sat in the chair in the opposite corner.
“Now come stand here, both of you.” Cassie pointed in front of her.
We did. She walked around us. Stopping in front of us, Cassie said, “Next outfit.”
We walked back to change.
“The black lace,” Cassie said. Daisy nodded.
Each time I tried on an item, modeled it, removed it, and hung it up again, Daisy took it and put it in the room by the office. I repeated the routine a few times until I finished with the satin dress.
Afterward, I changed back into my clothes. Daisy was waiting for me when I came out of the dressing room. I looked at my watch. “I only have forty minutes before I have to head back.”
“No problem. I know a deli up a block.”
We started to head out. Daisy went around a man headed to the basement below the store. He pushed a dolly that contained boxes, stacked high and clanging as he pushed it along the sidewalk. Another man, who stood on the stairs, began unloading them.
I caught up to her. “Hey, what were those guys delivering to your basement?”
“I have no idea. Never been down there.”
The weird thing is that fabric doesn’t clang. If it isn’t clothing being dropped off, then what is it?
The city was mysterious. The pub and its mob connections, combined with Daisy’s boss and the suspicious basement, made me wonder whether I was becoming paranoid or if I was just observant.
Chapter 7
Fiona and I watched the noon news. I sat next to her on the couch in my pajamas, while she was already showered and in her robe. Fiona sipped her coffee with her eyes glued to the television as the weather forecast came on. That night, Celtic Crescendo would be preforming outside. I sat with my fingers crossed, hoping the earlier forecast of rain and wind had changed for the better.
“…clear skies tonight and warmer-than-usual temperature for May,” the man announced.
A smile spread across her face.
Hours later, we drove into the back lot of a bar called Beats, a New Jersey club housed in an older, brick, four-story building. Fiona parked. I heard music above as we got out of the car. I looked up to see lights on the roof lighting up the dancing crowd. I nodded my head to the beat.
Fiona smiled. “Makes you want to dance, doesn’t it?”
A DJ stood a few feet away from the edge of the roof. He stood above the crowd, probably on a raised platform. He rose his hands, pulsing his arms with the beat of the bass. The people gyrated in unison. The techno mix incorporated some of Fiona’s band’s songs, in a fusion of Irish Celtic and dance music.
Fiona sang along. I remembered the tune from the time I spent at the pub and when I was with the band in Brooklyn. The lyrics were catchy, and I sang with her as we approached the bar.
“Your friends are upstairs,” a bouncer said, opening the back door for us.
“I figured.” Fiona took my hand. “Amber’s with the band,” she explained.
The music grew louder as we reached the top of the stairs. On the festive roof, the music boomed and made conversation nearly impossible.
There was a couch and a table reserved for Fiona’s band. Everyone was there except Dan, the singer. Nora poured champagne and handed me a glass. I mouthed a thank you and took a sip. Nora didn’t offer any to Fiona. I waited for Fiona to pour herself a drink, but she never went for it, even after we had been standing there for a few minutes. It was her band’s big night, and she wasn’t drinking. She could have one glass of champagne and still perform without a buzz, right? Nora said something into Fiona’s ear.
Fiona looked at me and nodded toward the table with shirts and CD’s stacked on top. Earlier, I had agreed to help with selling the band’s merchandise. Cam sat behind the table and assisted several women who were purchasing items. They leaned toward him, hanging onto his every word as he charmed them with his smile and dark, smoldering eyes. I squeezed my way past the crowd and sat in the chair next to him.
He took money from a customer, put it in the cashbox, and gave her the change.
I leaned his way. “Hey, Cam, nice to see you again.” His aftershave was so intensely appealing that it made me want to do to him what only Fiona should.
“I’m not Cam,” he said, inches away from my ear, his cheek nearly grazing my own. If he’s not Cam, maybe he’s giving me the green light to have my way with him. “I’m his twin, Leo. Cam is coming later.” His hot breath faded as he backed away.
“Oh, sorry! I didn’t know he had a twin. I’m Amber, Fiona’s roommate.”
“She told me you were coming.”
More ladies approached us, laughing in boisterous unison while staring at Leo. Even though I understood why they were so giddy around someone as hot as Leo was, I hoped he wouldn’t fall for them. Is he the type for one-night stands? Then again, if he wanted a relationship, his girlfriend would always feel like everyone was looking at her man, which would be like a disturbing compliment.
Why do I care? I just met him.
One of the ladies whispered to the other, making her friend blush and giggle. The oldest and most well-endowed bent over the table and gave Leo an eyeful.
“I can’t decide which T-shirt would look best,” she said in a breathy voice. “What do you think?”
“I think you would look good in any of them, dear.” He winked at her.
He seemed to wink at every girl, and it always got the same result. The woman steadied herself by gripping the edge of the table. Her friends watched Leo’s every move as he put a T-shirt in front of her. She smiled and took cash from her bra, exposing a nipple for a second. Leo froze, noticing it. I took the cash from her. Since she looked almost old enough to be Leo’s mother, I found the whole display of her sexuality disturbing. I wanted the transaction to end as soon as possible.
She picked up the T-shirt and held it to her chest. “See ya.” The group followed her as she walked away.
Leo’s gaze followed the woman’s backside. He seemed in a trance as he watched her bubble butt sway back and forth with each step.
A man handed me a credit card with one hand while holding a CD with the other.
I tapped Leo’s shoulder with the Visa. “If you could stop watching Mrs. Robinson, you might want to plug this in.” I shoved the credit card machine at him. I wasn’t sure he’d get my sense of humor. The Graduate was an old movie, but the young man falling for an older woman scenario seemed too appropriate to pass up.
Leo looked at me and chuckled. “You’re funny. I don’t think I’ve ever been compared to a movie star before. Since Dustin was handsome, I’ll take the compliment.” He shrugged. “What are you going to do? I can’t help it. Women respond to my charisma.”
His ego was a turnoff, but only for a second. Once his perfect ass was hovering above his chair to complete the task of plugging the outlet into the ground, my mind was only on one thing, how exhilarating it would be to sink my hand into that juicy butt.
He waved at some men, an
d they came over to our table. We stayed seated as Leo took the first man’s credit card and finished the sale.
“These are my boys from the car dealership.” Leo motioned to the two dark-haired young men. They put their bags on our table. One of them had a Nikon logo on it. The other man took out some more T-shirts and added them to the pile.
I started to get up in case one of them wanted to sit, but the guy nearest me said, “Don’t get up, sweetheart.” I wasn’t his sweetheart. Then again, he most likely called every girl that. “I’m just dropping off the camera.”
I sat back down next to Leo, who remained in his seat.
“Can I get you guys anything from the bar?” one of them asked.
“I’ll have a rum and Coke.” I started to get out money, but the man waved it off.
“I’m good for now,” Leo said before taking a swig of his beer.
I looked at Leo. “He didn’t have to pay for my drink.”
“No, but our boss owns the bar, so don’t feel too bad about it.”
“Your boss owns a car dealership and a bar?”
“Yeah,” he said, watching my long legs cross.
I wondered what kind of person would own such a weird combination of businesses.
One of Leo’s boys from the dealership sat down next to Leo. He took money from customers, keeping the line moving. A few minutes later, two tall young women—a brunette and a blonde, both wearing miniskirts, boots, and snug-fitting band T-shirts—walked over. The brunette sat by the camera bag. The blonde got comfortable in her chair and put her enormous purse on her lap.
I blushed as Leo put his hand on my upper thigh. My breath hitched, and I slid down in my chair, causing his hand to climb a bit farther up. I held in a moan, biting my lip. Although I wasn’t ready for a relationship yet, my body did miss the way a man felt inside of me.
He leaned over. I licked my lips, wanting them to meet his. He whispered, “You’d definitely sell more CDs dressed like them.”
Our mouths were inches away from touching. I stopped myself from crushing mine onto his and placed my lips close to his ear instead, inhaling his aftershave. “Care to make it interesting? I bet I’ll sell more merchandise with what I have on now than that blonde.”
City in the Middle Page 5
