A Bookie's Odds (8 page)

With a smirk, Nicholas strolled out of the bar. Georgia was going to have something to say about his behavior. Yet the steam coming from her companion’s ears said it would be worth it.

****

“What was that all about?” her father grumbled.

Despite the shiver the kiss had sent through her, Georgia shook her head. “It was Nick being Nick.” She slid onto the barstool he had vacated. “I know not to take him seriously.”

“Still, watch yourself around him.”

She was certain her father’s concern was due to Nicholas’s reputation of sleeping around. It was the last thing he needed to worry about. If there was one thing she was certain of, Nicholas had no interest in her.

The skepticism in her father’s eyes said he had his doubts.

“Trust me, Daddy. Nick and I are just friends.”

“I do trust you. It’s him I don’t.” He waved to the empty stool next to her. “Sit. Have a drink.”

“I’ll sit for a bit, but I’ll pass on the drink.” William perched on the barstool. “We’re meeting at the church in the morning to discuss the situation going on in Arkansas.”

“You mean those colored children bein’ turned away from that school?” her father asked. “You goin’ down to help ’em?”

“No, we figure they already have people rallying behind them. However, we’re sure there are children in other southern states who could use our help.”

Georgia nodded. Over the past three years, she had read articles about colored students denied entry into a public school, despite the 1954 ruling by the United States Supreme Court that “separate but equal” had no place in public schools. She assumed the stories she read were not isolated incidents and for every one that made the papers there were plenty others that were overlooked.

The events going on in the south reminded Georgia of how lucky she was. The public schools in Brooklyn were separated by zones. Therefore, all her father had to do was submit proof of her address.

Georgia did not know whose address he had initially used to enroll her in an elementary school outside her zone area. However, after Celeste and she became friends, as far as the Board of Education was concerned, her primary residence was with the Santianos.

Once she was in school, everything did not go smoothly. Some of the other children and a few teachers looked down at her because of the color of her skin. There were a few incidents of name calling and several physical encounters. Yet always, before anything became serious, Nicholas was by her side, ready to defend her.

Georgia felt a touch on her hand. She glanced over at William, who smiled back at her.

“I enjoyed the afternoon,” he said. “We should do it again.”

“We’ll see,” she quickly replied before her father could arrange another date. If it was left up to him, the next outing would have the couple standing in front of Pastor Peters and reciting vows.

“How ’bout I drop by during the week and we talk.”

“That’ll be fine.” This time her father was quicker with a response.

Sighing, Georgia nodded. “Yes, that’ll be fine.”

William climbed off the barstool. He leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek. The gesture was as chaste as a brother kissing a sister, and it did nothing for her. Of course, she did not expect anything more passionate, not with her father standing in front of them, monitoring their every move.

After shaking hands with the older man, William waved to the men sitting at the opposite end of the bar.

Before the door had finished closing, her father began humming “Get Me to the Church on Time.” Two of the older customers turned in her direction and smirked.

Rolling her eyes, Georgia slid off the barstool. She marched toward the rear of the bar to the door that led to the apartments. She’d had her fill of men for the day…and possibly the rest of her life.

Chapter 6

The beige paint was peeling from the drawers of the steel desk, and rust covered the top of the two-drawer file cabinet. The gray dropleaf stand and green-vinyl-covered chair looked like they had been swiped from a classroom in the school across the street from the diner. The typewriter sitting on the stand was older than she was. And, she was certain, the white milk-glass hurricane lamp on the far right-hand corner of her desk previously sat on one of the end tables in her employer’s apartment. Yet Georgia appreciated the trouble the man had gone through to set up an office for her.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d need.” The eldest son of Sophie Santiano pointed to the adding machine perched on top of a box of receipts in the far left corner of the desk. “Let me know if you don’t like something. I’ll replace it.”

“Everything’s fine, Mr. Santiano,” Georgia said.

He chuckled. “Every time you call me that, I’m reminded of the little girl who skipped around Marco’s garden with Celeste.”

“Then what should I call you?”

“How about Joey?”

“That’s not professional.”

“It’s more professional than ‘yo, old man.’ ”

She had to admit calling him by his first name was certainly more professional and respectful than the greeting his son used.

Joseph’s sigh and the pain in his eyes tore at her heart. His towering height and husky build reminded Georgia of an oversized teddy bear. But whoever heard of a sad teddy bear?

“Joey it is,” she said.

A smile slowly replaced the man’s frown. “Your father’s blessed to have a good girl like you. Would you like something to eat before you start?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Then I’ll let you get to work.” He took a step out the door but paused to say, “Remember, don’t hesitate to let me know if you need something.”

“I won’t.”

Once the man turned the corner, Georgia silently clapped her hands and shimmied. The most she had hoped for when she graduated from college was her own desk in a room shared with three other people. But to have her own office?

Granted, her office was located in an alcove in the rear of the diner’s storage room, and she did not have a door, but it was still her office.

“Oh, I forgot.”

Georgia stopped dancing and spun around. The blush warmed the tip of her ears. What must he think about her silliness?

“I’m going to have a telephone installed in here later this week. For the time being, you can use the one out front, behind the counter, if you need to.”

“Thank you.”

Though his eyes twinkled with amusement at her antics, he did not admonish her for the unprofessional behavior. Joseph chuckled as he disappeared around the corner again.

Deciding the celebration could wait until later, Georgia slipped her black purse into the desk. Because of the warm temperature, she had not worn a sweater over her short-sleeved, red-and-black-print dress. She wished she could have forgone the stockings, but it would have been too casual, even for the diner.

Georgia sat down, moved the adding machine to the side, and pulled the box to the center of the desk. Numbers had always fascinated her, and math had been her favorite subject in school. By the time she reached high school, she had mastered several areas, including trigonometry and calculus. Therefore, it had come as no surprise to those close to her when she announced her decision to study accounting in college.

Determined to make a good impression on the man who had helped her achieve her dream, Georgia ignored the big hand every time it passed by the twelve on the clock hanging over her desk. She worked through the morning until her neck was stiff from bending over the desk, her derriere was sore from sitting so long, and her morning coffee had settled in her bladder.

Her stomach growled, demanding attention. She tightened the muscles, hoping it would quiet down until she finished typing the numbers on the adding machine. The aroma of callaloo and saltfish did not help.

It took Georgia a minute before she remembered Joey did not serve West Indian cuisine in the diner. Since her imagination was not strong enough to conjure up the smells, there was only one explanation as to why she could practically taste the dish.

Georgia froze. How the hell did he know where she was? The only person she had told about her decision to work at the diner was Joey. At dinner the previous evening, she’d told her father she would spend the day running errands. And, other than asking her to pick up butter, he had not questioned her.

“You’re going to have to look up sometime.”

She shook her head. “The only thing I
have
to do is stay black and die.”

“Georgia, look at me.”

She slowly turned from the adding machine to the man standing over her. Though the corners of his lips were turned down in a frown, his eyes danced with amusement.

“You’ve got to be the most stubborn person I know. What am I going to do with you?”

“Walk away and pretend you never saw me here?”

Nicholas shook his head, and she saw her future at the diner quickly slipping away. Maybe she could talk him into letting her finish out the day before dragging her back home.

“How’d you know I was here?”

“The moment Pops said Uncle Joey wanted to hire you, I knew you’d take the job. I also knew you weren’t going to say anything to your father.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Of course not.” He reached out and brushed his fingers across her cheeks. “Though I don’t approve of you working here, I know how much this means to you.”

Georgia reached up and grasped his hand. “Thank you.”

She should have known Nicholas understood. He had always been supportive of her dreams, going so far as to give her a heads-up whenever he heard of a job opening.

Georgia wondered if William would support her decision to work. Or was he looking for a woman who’d stand by his side, look good, and agree with everything he said?

Nicholas held up the brown bag in his other hand.

“Miss Yvonne’s?” she guessed.

“Since you couldn’t go with me to get your favorite dish, I brought it to you. I figured we could celebrate your first job.”

Georgia glanced up at the clock. It was after one; she had been working for over four hours. Though she had wanted to finish working on the receipts, her body begged her to take a break.

“I need to use the facilities, first.”

“Go ahead. I’ll get everything ready while you’re gone.”

Georgia rolled back from the desk. Every joint south of her waist protested when she stood. Ignoring Nicholas’s chuckle, she shuffled out of the storage room to the kitchen.

Aware of the concerns about her safety, Joseph had assured her the only way to get to the storage room was through the kitchen. At any given time, either he or his wife would have an eye on the door.

“How’s it going?” Joey glanced up from the four hamburgers and two grilled cheese sandwiches on the grill.

“I got a lot done this morning,” she replied. “I’m taking a quick break.”

He glanced at the clock hanging over the window to the dining room. “You should’ve taken one before now. I don’t want my brother accusing me of overworking you.”

“I’ll take my break at noon from now on.”

“And another one at three?”

“That’s not nec—” She abandoned her protest when he cocked an eyebrow. “Yes, sir,” she agreed, though she didn’t think it would be necessary.

He nodded before turning back to the food.

Georgia stepped through the swinging door into the dining room as the bells over the front door jingled. A couple stepped into the diner and stopped at the booth to the left of the door. They scanned the crowded dining room. Seeing no other seats available, they slid onto the blue, vinyl-covered benches on either side of the enamel table.

She moved from behind the counter and headed into the women’s room. By the time she finished using the facilities and returned to her office, Nicholas had set up the food on top of the file cabinet.

Georgia dropped into her chair and grabbed the container with callaloo and saltfish. He had remembered she preferred fried dumplings and plantains with her meal.

“I also got you a root beer.” Using the back edge of the file cabinet, he popped the cap off the bottle before passing her the beverage.

He held up his bottle of cola, and they tapped them together. Georgia took a swig. The sugary beverage was just the jolt her system needed. She polished off half the soda before placing the bottle on the cabinet.

“So, is this everything you thought it’d be?”

“Yes, except for…” She reached up and rubbed her neck.

“Let me get that.”

Nicholas moved behind her chair. Using his thumbs, he massaged the muscles in her neck. He slowly worked on the knots until she could move her head from side to side without pain.

It was hard to believe the hands capable of leaving a person a bloody mess could also ease her aches. If he was that attentive to the women he was intimate with, it was no wonder there never seemed to be a shortage of those willing to go out with him.

Georgia silently admonished herself for the inappropriate thoughts. Nicholas was a flirt, and she could not fall for his charms. Though she wanted to work, she would eventually marry. She could never see him settling down. All he could offer her was a few moments of pleasure, followed by days of loneliness while she waited for him to tire of his other women.

Nicholas was a friend and only a friend.

****

Georgia was a friend and only a friend.

Nicholas silently repeated the mantra until it played like a skipping record in his brain. It did not matter how soft her skin felt beneath his fingertips or how excited he got from her soft sighs, nothing could happen between them.

Georgia needed a nice, educated man, one who had a promising future ahead of him. A man who could offer her a peaceful and comfortable life. A man like the one she’d gone out with the previous day.

Memories of the other man extinguished Nicholas’s excitement. He suddenly felt a tension in his shoulders and neck. He suspected nothing short of introducing his fist to the other man’s face would help.

“Nicholas, your food’s getting cold.” Georgia reached up and touched his hand. “Sit down and eat.”

“How do you feel?”