A Bookie's Odds (7 page)

“I’d love to, but I won’t be here.”

Nicholas’s head jerked back. “Why not?”

“I have a prior commitment.”

He heard the amusement in her tone. Of course the brat did not have a prior commitment. The only person she hung out with was Celeste.

“Fine, Celeste can come along.”

“I told you, I don’t know where she is.”

He straightened. “Then who are you going out with?”

“An acquaintance of Daddy’s.”

Before they could discuss who she was going out with, where they were going, when they expected to return, what they were planning to do and, most importantly, why it was any of his damn business, Mr. Collins bellowed in the background.

“Nicholas, I have to go,” Georgia said. “You’ll call if you hear anything from Celeste?”

“Yeah, sure.” He barely got out the words before he heard the other handset drop onto the cradle.

He pulled the handset from his ear and stared at it. There were a few things in life he had always been able to count on. Gianni and he would have each other’s back. Celeste and Georgia would be friends. And Georgia would be free to hang with him.

In less than twenty-four hours, everything seemed to have changed. Though he knew change was inevitable, he did not like it.

Chapter 5

Georgia was hungry, bored, and her derriere hurt from sitting for two hours on the wooden seat. Despite her misery, she forced the corners of her lips to remain up when she grasped Sister Baptiste’s hand.

The older woman beamed as she vigorously shook hands with her son’s guest. The glint in her eyes said she was working on the guest list for the wedding that would precede the reception Georgia’s father was planning.

Georgia glanced at William. Engrossed in his own conversation with a deacon, he offered her no help. Not that she expected any. He had not come to her rescue when she faced the church mothers before service.

William and Georgia had barely settled in the pew before the older women occupying the seats around them oohed and aahed over the nice girl with the lawyer. They then proceeded to launch one question after another at her.

Who were her kin? What church did she belong to? Did she drink? Did she smoke? Could she keep her skirts down and her legs closed?

As personal as some of the questions got, they did not bother her as much as the women’s analysis of her appearance. They were able to forgive her dark complexion because she had the good hair and straight nose she could pass on to her children. These comments were made as they fingered the hair that hung loose over her shoulders.

The organist cueing the choir ended the interrogations. However, the moment the service was over, William’s mother rushed over to Georgia, ready to continue the cross-examination.

As Georgia braced herself for the next round of twenty questions times five, the pastor’s wife motioned to Sister Baptiste from the front of the church. After flashing an apologetic frown, the woman released Georgia’s hand and hurried off.

“That was a fine service, Pastor Peters.” William shook hands with the salt-and-pepper-haired man who joined the group.

“It was too long and too loud,” Georgia muttered under her breath as she waited for her date to step aside.

“Sorry?” He turned to her.

“I asked if you were ready.” She figured that was not entirely a lie. She had asked him the question before the organ had finished vibrating from the recessional.

“In a minute.”

He turned his back to her to address the man in the black pulpit robe. Though he was friendly, especially to the women in the neighborhood, Pastor Peters was also longwinded. Georgia realized, once the conversation started, they would be there for another twenty minutes.

With no more women vying to ask her personal questions, Georgia no longer felt the need to mind her manners. She was getting out of the row if she had to hike up her skirt and climb over the pew.

“Excuse me.” She made certain her tone indicated her intentions.

Instead of testing her determination to gain her freedom, William stepped aside. Georgia slipped by him and marched up the aisle and out of the church.

Despite the increasing clouds, the temperature was pleasingly warm. She considered going for a walk, though first she needed to get something to eat.

Since Nicholas had mentioned Miss Yvonne’s the previous afternoon, she had the taste for callaloo and saltfish. The dish was usually served for breakfast, but the restaurant prepared it until three on Sundays, for people who attended morning service.

“You embarrassed me back there.”

Georgia glanced up at the man who had managed to extract himself from his important conversations to join her. In his blue suit, white shirt, and blue-and-red-striped tie, he reminded her of the community leaders who went to Washington, D.C. to fight for their rights. When he talked to the men in the church, she had heard the strength in his voice.

She was certain her father had seen and heard what she had. It was the main reason he’d insisted she go out with William. The younger man was going places, and when he did, he was going to need a good woman by his side. However, Georgia did not think she was cut out to be that woman. For one thing, she enjoyed eating.

“Do you know who those men are?” He barely took a breath before answering his own question. “Deacon Brown and Pastor Peters.”

“I’m well aware of who they are. Deacon Brown frequently visits the bar, and Pastor Peters was hitting on me the other day at the grocery.”

“Then I’m sure you realize how vital they can be to my future,” William said, ignoring her snide remarks.

“I’m sure getting ahead is important to you, but I was expecting lunch, not church, and definitely not the interrogations I was put through this morning.”

“What are you talking about?”

Georgia stared at him in disbelief. Did the man not hear the questions she had been asked before the service?

“William, the mothers put me through the third degree. And they examined me like I was up for auction. I’m surprised they didn’t make me open my mouth so they could check my teeth.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Like hell I am.”

The mild expletive caught the attention of the older women who had interrogated her before service and a group of girls playing hand games. The women stopped chatting and frowned. The girls froze in mid-play, their mouths dropping open.

Georgia sighed. In the heat of the moment, she had committed a triple play of sins—a female cursing, in front of her elders, on a Sunday. As far as some were concerned, her soul was already burning in hell.

“Excuse us,” she mumbled as she grasped William’s elbow. She led him around the corner out of earshot. “When you asked me out to lunch, I had no idea we were doing this…” She waved her hand at the church. “A warning would’ve been appreciated.”

“I was eager to show you off.”

“So, that’s all I am? A prop?”

“Woman, don’t go twisting my words around.” He took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. “What do you say we get lunch?”

Though she did not appreciate his brushing aside her concern, she was hungry. She decided to readdress the issue after they ate.

“I kind of had a craving for callaloo and saltfish,” she said as he led her in the direction opposite from Miss Yvonne’s.

“We can get that next time. I figured today calls for a steak.”

“Next time? We haven’t finished with this date yet.”

“I like to think positive.”

Georgia needed to see how the rest of the date went before commenting on the likelihood of them going out again. Though she wasn’t on the worst date she’d ever had, she wasn’t having a ball.

****

Whenever he got into trouble as a child, Nicholas was told his sole purpose in life was to aggravate his father. Nicholas disagreed. He had a long list of people he enjoyed aggravating, including the man standing behind the bar.

As he approached the front door, Nicholas had heard Mr. Collins’s laughter through the open window. Yet the moment he stepped into Sugar, the jolly noise ceased. The older man’s smile transformed into a frown and his spine straightened from a relaxed slouch to a rigid posture.

Nicholas was unsure why the other man disliked him; he was certain it had nothing to do with his family. Mr. Collins doted on Celeste, and over the years he had warmed up to the patriarch of the Santiano family. He even accepted a loan from Nicholas’s father to buy the bar when the previous owner was ready to retire.

Instead of losing sleep over the situation, Nicholas decided to enjoy it. The harder the other man scowled, the wider Nicholas’s grin grew. He did not have to break a sweat to get under Mr. Collins’s skin. All he had to do was walk into the room and the man’s blood pressure rose.

The two men sitting at the far end of the bar turned to see who was responsible for the change in Mr. Collins. Nicholas waved as he walked toward the opposite end. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and dropped two singles on the bar.

“You found Celeste?” the older man asked as he grabbed a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass.

“Not yet.”

“How’s your father holdin’ up?”

“As well as could be expected.”

“So, what are you doin’ here? You should be with your family. Or, better yet, out lookin’ for that hood you call a friend.” Despite his declaration, Mr. Collins placed the glass next to the bills and poured the drink.

“We’ve checked everywhere,” he said before knocking back the drink.

As for his family, his father had Nonna. The woman could offer him the support he needed. What could Nicholas do? Stare at him?

He preferred staring at Georgia. Of course, he didn’t plan to disclose that information to the woman’s father. It was one thing to get kicks from aggravating someone; it was another thing to get kicked for aggravating him.

“Georgia’s not here.” The older man smirked. “She’s on a date.”

“With a man?”

“What do you think? She’s out with a dog?”

When Georgia mentioned she was going out, she had not indicated it was with someone of the opposite sex.

“Who’s she wit’?”

“A young man who grew up in the neighborhood. He’s a lawyer who’s going places.”

Nicholas wanted to say, “Good for her,” but he could not utter the lie. Though he should be happy for her, he wasn’t. He recognized the jealousy for what it was, yet he still could not help but hope she had a miserable time.

He placed the glass on the bar as he reached behind him for his wallet.

“Don’t bother. I’ll run a tab.” Mr. Collins poured another shot. “I know you’re good for it.”

Translation:
I know where to find you if you run out without paying. And if I can’t find you, your pops will
.

As Nicholas reached for the glass, he heard Georgia’s voice drift through the window. He turned as she stepped into the bar. A tall colored man in a tailored suit walked in behind her.

Nicholas hoped her date had turned out to be a jerk, she’d left him to crawl back into the sewer from which he’d emerged, and the man with her was a stranger she met on her way into the bar.

“If it isn’t the happy couple.” Mr. Collins’s voice filled the room, shattering Nicholas’s hopes.

All heads in the room turned toward Georgia and her companion. The older men nodded and waved. Their eyes beamed with the pride of knowing someone who had matured from a mischievous boy to a successful man. The younger men, however, eyed him suspiciously, like he was competition. Not that Nicholas faulted them.

Every woman, with the exception of Georgia, stared at the man as if they wanted a few minutes in the back room with him. Georgia showed no signs she entertained thoughts of being anything other than friends. But she had always been levelheaded. She did not start looking at china patterns simply because a man glanced in her direction.

“How was the date?”

Georgia rolled her eyes. “Daddy.”

With her hand on the other man’s arm, she walked toward the bar. As far as Nicholas was concerned, the gesture was too intimate. There should have been at least a distance of one mile between her and her date.

Nicholas was certain Georgia would not appreciate his opinion. He, therefore, kept the comment to himself as he slid off the barstool to his feet.

“Did you hear from Celeste?” she asked.

“Not yet.”

Georgia patted Nicholas’s hand. It was a simple gesture, but, coming from her, it offered him hope.

“Nicholas, I’d like you to meet William. William, this is Nicholas, a good friend.”

“Nice meeting you.” Her companion had a deep voice that would command attention.

He was approximately two inches shorter than Nicholas and had a wiry build. However, his suit announced he could afford good threads.

Everything about the man was perfect. He was successful, good-looking, and he had her father’s approval. He was the type of man Georgia deserved.

Nicholas hated him.

Georgia squeezed Nicholas’s hand again. Though he recognized the silent chastisement, he could not force himself to do more than give the other man a curt nod.

Before Georgia could verbalize her displeasure at Nicholas’s behavior, Mr. Collins cleared his throat.

“Nicholas, didn’t you say you had somewhere to go?”

It was only the older man’s relationship to Georgia that kept Nicholas from calling the man on his lie. Had he done anything other than finish his drink and leave, she would have gotten upset. And, though she wasn’t causing a scene, the nails digging into his palm were enough of a deterrent.

Nicholas slipped his hand from under Georgia’s and knocked back his drink. He retrieved his wallet and tossed two singles on top of what had already been on the bar.

“Keep the change.”

“I intend to.” Mr. Collins swept up the money in his hand.

Nicholas took Georgia’s hand and kissed the back. “I’ll speak to you later,
amore mio
.”

She snatched her hand from his. He knew he overstepped his bounds. The previous times he’d kissed her hand, he had done so to prove she was special to him. This time, however, the gesture was to get under the other man’s skin.