Harmony (2 page)

At The Cotton, Harmony soon became familiar with the faces of the notorious as they came and went, each vying for a moment of this most powerful gangster’s time. Mickey Collins and Madden were close. Collins imported the bootlegged liquor filling the club patron's glasses. She even believed he had something to do with how Owen Madden managed to purchase and muscle Jack Johnson out of the Deluxe. But if Collins, a reported ex-member of the Five Points Gang, was to be feared and respected for his connections to the mob, Romano’s ruthless reputation made him the god they all bowed in respect to.

Her friend, a cigarette girl by the name of Paulette, told her just days ago
he
had asked for her schedule one night when she was absent. It was the first time she knew her suspicions were true. Romano had eyes for her. She was sure of it. Tonight, Harmony hoped that attention would pay off.

For Willie’s sake.

Vincenzio ‘Vinnie’ Romano eased back into the soft leather of his booth seat. This club had become a habit.
She
was becoming
his
habit. Otherwise he’d stick to his own territory.

Romano wasn’t unfamiliar with the nightlife along Lenox Avenue. He grew up cracking skulls and breaking the law with his best friend Lucky around the gambling dens and brothels in Five Points. Lucky went on to become a part of the Five Points Gang. Vinnie had no intention of trying to belong. In fact he created the Black Hand, a gang that helped him earn his respect, elbows to fist all the way. His reputation was rumored to have reached his powerful father in Sicily. No one questioned his authority, at least not to his face. His Sicilian blood and being the son of Don Giuseppe Romano had sealed his destiny.

Signaling for another whiskey, Romano ignored the prattle of his kid brother and focused on the vision of beauty before him. Lately he couldn’t get Antonio to shut the fuck up about the money flowing in and out of Harlem. It was Antonio who originally brought him to the club after he had refused several invitations from Madden. The Cotton was a whites only establishment, no race mixing in or near its doors. Still Romano thought the club beneath him. That was until he saw her. He wouldn’t have paid her any mind if it weren’t for her voice, it took him by surprise when he first heard her. He wasn’t a man often surprised. After witnessing the songbird’s talents he ordered one of his men to go out and buy the best jazz records in the city.

Romano licked the bitter taste of his half smoked cigar from his lips and she drew him in. They called her Harmony. He chuckled when he first heard her stage name and discovered it was indeed her Christian name. The doll had class. He had to give her that.

Harmony’s hips swayed, her hands eased up and down her curvaceous sides as her voice went from smoky to wickedly sexy and low. Romano leaned forward, Harmony was in rare form tonight—and something was different. Sweetheart was singing to him. He was sure of it. Songbird was looking him directly in the eye. He liked that.

What a dame
.

Medium in height with skin sepia brown as if brushed with ginger, Harmony Jones had full succulent red lips that made him lick his own. Her cheekbones were high on her heart shaped face. A distinct feature that made her almond shaped eyes slant and disappear under dark lashes when she flashed a coy smile through her performance. And her trademark was always present in her dark wavy hair. A white rose, pinned behind her right ear. She sang of desire. How she burned for more. And she dressed the part. Demure from the front but unashamedly provocative when she turned to the orchestra and revealed the low cut back. Tonight her clingy garment was the deepest shade of purple and seemed to sparkle with violet lights as if the most precious stones were woven into the thin fabric. A sweetheart-shaped bodice separated and lifted her ample breasts upward.
What a rack!
Romano was a breast man; she was full in the hips and chest, as he liked his women.

Harmony’s shifting loose sequined hem flattered her legs. When Harmony moved, and her hips often did in time with the melody, it provoked every man in the place to wonder about the softness between those thighs. Romano held back. Taboo barriers between coloreds and whites didn’t mean shit to him. If he wanted anything or any woman, the rules never applied. No. Romano held back for his own reasons. Boredom would set in when a conquest became too easy, especially after a dame's submission made her think his prominence meant something profitable for her. He'd rather worship this beauty, untouched, from afar. Still he wasn’t a man to be teased, and his songbird was tempting the beast in him tonight.

“
So as I was saying,” Antonio’s nasal drone mowed down his wandering thoughts.

Romano dropped his gaze over to his second in command. “What? What were you saying?”

Antonio Romano was short, and thin, with a scar that ran from his left brow down to the middle of his cheek thanks to a nasty childhood knife fight. Antonio wasn’t a thinker. He was a doer, and without the strong hand of his older brother he would have wound up on the same path as any stick-up man with a trigger-happy temper.

“
Out with it.” Romano said.

Antonio cleared his throat. “Collins’s on the level. He’s square. This I know for sure. Take a look around Vinnie. This joint is tops. Cops don’t bother Madden, and the booze is constantly flowing. Give me the okay and we can own this scene. All of it Vinnie, the numbers banks, I’m talking top to bottom… it’s prime for picking, Harlem and all.”

“
You feeding me a line?” asked Romano.

“
No. I’m just weighing in is all. I got the right to speak my mind. This isn’t Sicily. Papa has no say in the men we become or the way you do things. Still we’re blood, and we’re in this together. Hey, forget about it. What do we need with Harlem? Bronx’s doing alright.” Antonio took a quick sip of his drink, his gaze bounced from his brother’s ashtray to his watchful stare. Romano could smell a setup. His brother stunk of it.

“
You’re restless little brother. I see it. Doesn’t mean I have to act on it. You got rights? You have the rights and privileges I say.
Capice
?” Romano asked.

Antonio’s jaw tensed. Romano eyed him, waiting. His brother didn’t respond. He threw back the last of his whiskey then slammed the glass on the table. “Hey toots!” he barked at the cigarette girl. “Get a wiggle on over here. Will ya?”

The leggy toffee brown skinned brunette walked over in fishnet stockings and a corset with her tits packed tight in the front like cantaloupes. Around her neck hung a cigarette case. Romano’s eyes cut past them both to Mickey Collins off at the bar. Mickey lifted his glass to him.
So now Collins had Antonio making his case?
Romano smirked. There was something to it.

The foxy brunette flicked her lighter, sparking a flame that burned down the tip of Antonio’s ciggy. She cut her hazel brown oval eyes over to the mob boss. “Mr. Romano, what can I do you for—cigar, cigarette?” She dipped so he could get a full view of her wares accentuated by her breasts.

Antonio leaned out of the booth. His eyes did a slow climb up her legs and under the ruffled hem of her chorus-girl skirt. He exhaled a wave of smoke from his nostrils and smiled in approval. Paulette ignored Antonio. She flicked her golden lighter open and leaned in to ignite Romano’s cigar. Standing upright, the brunette struggled to hide her disappointment.

“
You new?” asked Antonio.

She blinked her reply, turned her boobs to his line of view. “No sir. They call me Paulette, I’m tall, tan and terrific!” she said. It was a canned response that the girls must all say in greeting.

“
Yea well beat it, Paulie. Can’t ya see we discussing business here?”

Paulette made a quick exit. Antonio chuckled. “Check out the gams on that dame,” he said with a sly grin. “Always been a leg man. Not into dark meat though.”

“
Tell me, exactly when did you become the
man
to sing and dance for Mickey Collins?” Romano asked.

“
Aww Vinnie, I was just flapping my gums. Pay it no mind,” Antonio gave a double shoulder shrug. Romano remained unconvinced, but he let it go.

Fletch waved his hand in front of the orchestra and ended the set. Harmony took her cue and gave a curt nod of thanks to the applause. She didn’t look over at Romano. She didn’t have to. The pull of his stare rained heat through her bones.

I should walk over there and lay it all out for Romano. Tell him about Willie and ask for his help. Isn't that the way of the Sicilians? The powerful men are lord and master over the weak and needy. I heard Milo call this one the boss of all bosses. That's how Lewis would address him too, Boss Romano. He’d say you give a man like Romano your burden, and for a price the boss will relieve you of it? Funny he didn’t look old enough to be so powerful. He definitely had a liking for my singing.
Harmony laughed bitterly to herself.
That may be but this is Harlem, girl, and you're a jazz singer that can't even enter through the front door of the club everyone comes to hear you sing at. Since when did the desires or needs of a colored woman mean a damn thing to a dangerous Sicilian like him? And if Madden gets wind of my plans I'll be on my hands and knees scrubbing floors again.

Blowing a final kiss to the audience in gratitude for the applause, she bowed to Henderson then quickly switched off the stage, but stopped short of the arriving tap-dancing girls to catch her breath. From her concealed position she stole another look to the Sicilian, he continued to watch with the same blank expression he wore when he arrived. Without the glare of the stage lights she could see him clearly. Romano had dark olive skin for a white man, with hair smoothed from his face in a golden brown wave, tapered low at the nape and with extended long sideburns. His serious features were chiseled into a strong jaw line and squared, dimpled chin. Deep-set eyes under a straight silken brow were intense, profound. Romano had no facial hair. He didn't smile but she did notice a brief reaction. The corner of his mouth tipped upward to something Mr. Madden said, when he arrived at his table to offer a welcoming. She wondered what color his eyes truly were?

“
Did you hear me Mony?”

Harmony stole a glance back over her shoulder at Milo, and then returned it to the mob boss across the room. Milo followed her stare.

“
Oh no, Miss Mony, no,” Milo said, taking her hand. He walked her further away behind the curtain. Beyond earshot, he took hold of both of her arms tightly.

“
What’s eating you?” Harmony struggled, trying to break free.

“
Mony, what'chu think you’re doing? Do you know who that there man is?”

“
Let go, Milo.”

“
Do you?”

“
It’s Vinnie Romano. Yes! I know who he is.”

“
No. Wrong. Vincenzio Romano and next to Collins, he’s
the
guy. Dangerous. Very dangerous Mony, do you understand? He’s not someone you want to tease. And if Madden sees you giving him the eye, lord Mony, have you lost your senses? I’ve been trying hard to keep them white boys off you, and you giving
that
man eyes? I seen ya, during the act. You was singing to him. Christ, I think he knows you were singing to him.”

“
Willie’s missing, Milo. He ain’t been home. I don’t know where he went or how long he’s been gone for. Just that he is.”

“
That ain’t a Romano problem. That’s a Willie problem,” Milo hissed, lowering his voice under the soft patter of more girls in sailor shirts and miniskirts running by in their tap shoes.

“
But Willie’s my problem, and Romano may be the only way to fix this. Mickey Collins sure as hell won’t.”

“
Why Romano?” Milo asked.

“
Paulette say that Antonio Romano was seen with Collins men and Willie out back during an unload. Mr. Madden was angry. Yelling. He struck Willie and then Willie run off. Paulette say Antonio Romano went after him. That’s the last anybody seen of my brother. Now folks saying that Collins think Willie stole from him. None of it make no sense. I’m hoping I can get to the bottom of this mess.”

“
Paulette? That girl would sell wolf tickets to her own mama’s funeral. I heard the rumors and they mostly lies. What the hell would Antonio Romano care if Madden gets rough with Willie?”

“
Dammit, he missing, you hear anything I said?”

Milo stepped back. He looked at her as if her head had rolled off her shoulders. What she said deserved the response, but she was the only help her brother had if these gangsters were after him. Harmony trusted Milo. She trusted him with her life, and Milo was right. He had kept the advances at bay from men that thought they were entitled to cross the line. But his perceived power was as far as Madden and his band of thugs would let it be. If he stepped out there and into this mess, Milo would be swatted back like a fly.