Shamrocks and Secrets (5 page)

"Then please, enlighten me on how I can properly thank you." Again with the clipped tone, I was in way over my head.

"Easy, Christi, have dinner with me."

His suggestion was not what I had expected, although I really had no clue about what he would deem acceptable. However, just as I was about to tell him where he could stick his request for dinner, Patrick began to unbutton his suit jacket and leaned back in his chair. He then casually lifted his long legs and placed them on his desk. It was at this point that I noticed the shiny handgun that sat in the waistband of his pants. I quickly looked away, only to notice that the other three men in the room were also packing. Suddenly, it was as if all the puzzle pieces came together, like a chain made of thousands of tiny magnets. Everything I had witnessed that related to Patrick Malloy pointed to just one thing
—
the Mafia.

I had watched enough movies focused on organized crime that I felt I knew enough to steer clear. I also knew they tended to make people do what they wanted. I decided the best approach was to convince Patrick that I didn't fit into the standard mob arm candy role.

"Thank you for the offer, Mr. Malloy. However, a man in your position undoubtedly requires a certain type of woman to fulfill his needs. I'm sorry, but I'm not that type of woman."

"Patrick. I
asked
you to call me Patrick
”

His voice eerily low and I swallowed hard. I could feel the fear crawl up my spine. This had been a very big mistake.

“
Jesus Christ, Christi! I'm asking you to dinner, not to give me a fucking lap dance."

It was sheer self preservation that motivated me to say what I did next.

"You may not be requesting a lap dance,
Mr. Malloy
, but you would require something from me that I'm not prepared to give."

He looked hard into my eyes, a battle line had been drawn. On one side was Patrick, a man who was, I am certain, accustomed to getting everything he wanted. Myself on the other, only wanting to leave this room in the same condition I entered it in. Patrick leaned his body back into his massive chair, a sly smile forming on his face.

“
So, if I promise to conduct myself as a perfect gentleman and not demand a blow job at the end, would you reconsider?"

Patrick was a handsome man, used to having women fall at his feet. How sad it must be to never know if they wanted him for his money or the power they must feel when they are with him. I would gladly trade them positions, they could have his undivided attention.

"I'd have your word that this would only be dinner, no other expectations?"

I didn't give a shit how good he looked or how full his bank account was, he stood for something that I wanted no part of. One dinner and we were even.

“
Yes." His answer rained with assurance and strangely I believed him. ”Then, yes, I'd reconsider." My voice soft and still a little unsure.

"Good, done!
”
He slammed his hand on the desk as he spoke the words.
Fuck me!

He pushed his chair away from the desk and slowly came around toward me. "Let me begin my role as a gentleman by doing proper introductions."

He motioned for me to join him by the three men who were again standing.

"Gents, this is the lovely Christi O
’
Rourke
.
Muscles, aka Ryan, you already know."

Ryan smiled and nodded his head in my direction.

"This is Tonto, one of my inner circle."

Tonto was just as big as Ryan, or rather
M
uscles. I extended my hand out to shake his. I noticed that again, Patrick nodded his approval.

"Pleasure to meet you, Sir," I smiled at Tonto.

"And this is someone you would've been meeting in the very near future. My soon-to-be brother in law, Caleb Montgomery."

"I had the pleasure of meeting your beautiful bride recently, Mr. Montgomery. Congratulations."

Caleb didn't wait for Patrick, he grasped my outstretched hand and instead of shaking it, he raised it to his lips and kissed the back of it as he bowed slightly. "Thank you kindly, Ms. Christi, the pleasure is all mine."

"Christi, let me escort you to your car. I'm sure your father would worry if I let you go by yourself.
”
Patrick interrupted as Caleb's lips touched my knuckles. He dropped my hand slowly, glaring in Patrick
’
s direction.

Tonto and Caleb left the room first, while Patrick held the door for me. I followed the other two down the stairs, Patrick close to my left side. Once I got to the last step, I chanced a
glance
toward the bar. Sitting on a barstool eyeing Patrick was another overdone, scantily clad blonde. Clearly those were his type, so why was he interested in me? This only reassured me that he would be seriously disappointed with me after our dinner. Once he realized that my panties would be staying firmly on my body and not the floor of his car.

I turned my attention back to walking out the door when the blonde suddenly crossed my path.

"Hey, Baby, I've been waiting for you," she cooed, reaching out and running her blood red nails up Patrick's arm. I continued to walk. I could have cared less who he was sleeping with.

I felt his hand wrap around my arm as he kept me from moving forward. I turned back and gave him a questioning glare.

"Harley, I've told you to stay out of this club." He spoke to the blonde, but his eyes never left mine. "I know, but I have something for you."

I really didn't have the desire to listen to her any longer. I wanted to go home, see Abigail, and then take a very long, very hot bath.

Patrick ignored her as he urged me toward the door. Once outside, I noticed that Tonto, Muscles and Caleb were standing guard around my car. I clicked the remote, unlocking the doors. Patrick was at my driver's door before I could blink. He opened the door and stood waiting for me to get into the car.

"Christi, I'll pick you up Friday at six o'clock."

His eyes now soft, whether from the low lights of the club or change in venue. His voice calm
,
warm
,
and dare I say
...sexy.

I watched as Patrick and his men stood in the road as I drove off. Again, I failed to see the black sedan that followed me home.

As I pulled into my driveway, I had to laugh at myself. My plans to simply thank him had gone up in flames. I now suspected Patrick Malloy was a serious member of the mafia and I had a date with him, I should have stuck with the fruit basket.

My dad was waiting for me when I opened my front door. This wasn't an unusual thing to happen, he was always stopping by. My gut told me he had a reason for being here, though.

“
Patrick Malloy called me, Christi."

"Oh?"

"He told me everything, so you can drop the act."

"Okay, so I went to see Patrick Malloy."

"No, you went to a rough and dangerous neighborhood, Christi. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I needed to talk to him and it isn't like he has an office on Michigan Avenue."

My dad was silent as he pondered his thoughts. I left him alone, not wanting to do battle with two men tonight. "Christi, Patrick's a good guy and I want you to give him a chance. I trust him.
”

"Well, good, because he invited me to dinner."

"I know; he asked my permission first. Just promise me you'll give him a chance?" My dad made his way toward the door. He opened it and went to leave. Suddenly, he turned around and said, "Christi, he doesn't have an office on Michigan Avenue, but he does own a condo in the same building that Oprah lives in."

It was an hour later that I had settled into the pillows of the couch with a deep wine glass. As I closed my eyes and listened to the creaking of the house, I began to play the events from earlier in my head. Patrick had not acted as I thought. Clearly he and my father were friends who loved to gossip about me. As I took a large gulp of my wine, I nearly choked. If Patrick was a member of organized crime and he and my father were as close as I suspected. Was my dad a dirty cop?

T
his wasn't a date; this was simply two people eating at the same time. Everyone ate dinner, we were just doing it together. Shannon nearly blew a gasket when I told her. She couldn't believe it took me so long to figure out that Patrick was in the Mafia. She said it took her ten seconds to figure out that Dillion was.

“
How can you be okay with this, Shannon?
”

“
Easy, its just a job. It isn't any different from being a lawyer or whatever.
”
She threw her hands in circles in the air to emphasize her point.

“
Are you kidding me? They commit major crimes and kill people.
”
I shouted back at her.

“
Oh, and I suppose you
’
re are honest in everything you do? People lie, cheat and steal every day, Chris. Get off your self imposed high horse. He is just a guy with a different job, don't judge him for things you know nothing about.
”

Since this wasn't a date and only dinner, I wasn't going to dress up. Yeah, that lasted long enough for my father to see me and demand that I change out of the jeans I had selected. I hadn
’
t gathered up enough courage to confront him about being a dirty cop. So here I sat drinking the last sip of my wine, wearing a sexy little black wrap dress and heels.

If one positive thing could be said about Patrick, he was punctual. My dad raced to the front door like a kid on Halloween. Patrick looked so different tonight, his suit still tailored to his build, his features impeccable. However, his face didn't seem so fierce and his body didn't seem so rigid. This version of Patrick I could grow to like.

"Good evening, Christi, you look very lovely this evening," Patrick said with the biggest smile on his face as he handed me a huge bouquet of lilies.

My dad was so excited that he quickly snatched the flowers from my hand and began ushering us out the door. I knew with Patrick being in the position he was in, luxuries were a given. What I didn't expect was the stretch limo that was parked in front of my house.

I also didn't expect him to have the entire restaurant reserved for just the two of us; well, the two of us and the four huge guys who sat across the room.

Clair's
was a local supper club and had been in business since the early 1900's. The building it was housed in was rumored to have been a speakeasy at one time, with caves that ran underneath. The walls were made of red brick and the walls that separated the different rooms had rows of arches. The tables were all square and draped with white tablecloths. Tiny votive candles illuminated our table.

Patrick, acting as the proper gentleman he pretended to be, pulled my chair out and then took his own seat. This time, I noticed the gun he'd had earlier in the week was gone.

I loved the feel of the old buildings here in the city. I had always wondered if the bricks could talk how exciting the stories would be.

Clair's
was old-style dining, where they took great pride in being over the top, from offering you hot towels to wash your hands, to placing your napkin on your lap for you. They were the only restaurant in town that employed a sommelier.

"I'm impressed, Patrick, you must know someone to get them to close this restaurant on a Friday night."

Patrick's eyes met mine as his trademark smirk crossed his face. "I'd love nothing more than to say I pulled a few strings, but I want to be honest with you.
Clair's
has been my family's business since my great-grandfather built this building and named it after his first wife."

"Honestly, I'm impressed a little more now
.
I've always had a fascination with older buildings."

"Well, anytime you want to take the grand tour, I'll be happy to set that up for you, get you down into the caverns."

"Those aren't just rumors?"

"No, Christi, this was a speakeasy during prohibition."

"Then I'll be taking you up on that offer of a tour."

Patrick ordered a Delmonico and I went with the lamb chops. Our salad was made table side and was by far the most amazing salad I had ever had.

"So, are there any other places your family owns that might impress me?"

Patrick leaned back in his chair and wiped his face with his napkin. "Actually, yes, I just recently acquired the building you work in, as well as the banquet hall next door."

"You bought that building? I thought Charlotte owned it."

"No, it was actually owned by a rival family, I bought it with one of my ghost companies. They weren't being very professional with Charlotte and I don't tolerate those kinds of actions."

I wasn't about to ask him what had happened, it clearly was not my business. I did find it odd that he didn't like bad business; he was in the Mafia after all.

"Tell me, Christi, do you enjoy working for Ms. Charlotte?"

“What , no nicknames for her?"

He chuckled and then took a drink of his wine. "No, I'm certain Ms. Charlotte would have me dragged by my shorthairs if I gave her a nickname."

I began to laugh along with him. He was correct about her being tough. I had learned a great deal from her when it came to handling people.

"My grandfather, whom I'm named after, taught me his rules for business. I've lived them since I took over for my da. He and my da have taught me more lessons by watching them than any college class I ever attended."

"You went to college?"

He again began to laugh, "Does that surprise you? I went to Yale, actually."

"I'm sorry, that was quite rude of me. I did just stereotype you, didn't I?"

He looked at me very seriously as he leaned into me and whispered, "Yes, you did, Legs, but you can make it up to me by having a drink with me."

I let the nickname pass for now. After all, I did just insult him. It wouldn't be that big of a deal to have another glass of wine with him. However, I should have known that he would want to go to a different place to have the agreed drink.

Our waiter appeared again and Patrick slipped him what I believed to be a large amount of money. He helped me with my chair and once again we were in the limo.

Patrick began to type on his cell phone and never once told the driver where we were going. It was almost as if this had all been pre-planned.

The drive was only a few blocks, and we honestly could have walked. However, being in heels and a dress, I was glad we didn't.

The building we pulled up to I recognized immediately as being
Pieces
, the new club in the downtown area. I avoided downtown, certain areas simply were not safe. Tonight though, the thought of my safety wasn't a concern. I knew Patrick could and would protect me.

The club was housed in an old warehouse that had been on the mayor's list of 'make our city beautiful' restorations. The city offered huge tax breaks to anyone who would take over the buildings, make repairs, and open businesses. I had read that the O
’
Leary Foundation had come in and fixed up several buildings and I wondered if this was one of them. The entrance to the building was impressive. There were two massive oak doors with "
Pieces
" written in dark green and outlined in gold.

I had been so busy taking in the sight of the building that I had failed to notice Allyson and Ryan Donnelly standing just outside of the limo. I smiled and Allyson pulled me into a tight hug.

"Oh, my goodness, it's such a pleasure to see you again, Mrs
.
Donnelly."

"Oh, Christi, it's Allyson to you."

"Very well, Allyson"

It was then that I noticed Patrick's entourage had joined us. Black suits now surrounded Allyson and myself.

"Christi, I have someone I need to speak with, can I leave you to visit with Allyson for a few minutes?"

Before I could assure him I would be fine, Allyson did the honor
s.

"Oh, don't worry about us, we'll just catch up, just find us a table," Allyson waved her hand dismissively at Patrick
.

Patrick shocked me when he reached down and took my hand in his, leading me into the building.

Once inside, I noticed that the place looked like an old Irish pub straight out of Ireland. The bar was long and glossy, made of a beautiful oak-stained wood. The brass footboard glistened in the lights that illuminated from the ceiling. The bar was packed and I didn't think we would find a table. I blushed as man after man looked toward Allyson and myself, their eyes raking down our forms.

I watched in amazement when their eyes then landed on Patrick and my hand in his. It was as if the bar caught on fire as barstools began to empty. Men were tripping over themselves, trying to grab their beers and make their way to the back of the room.

Patrick led me over to the center of the bar and pulled out a chair for me. He snapped his fingers and a very handsome man appeared behind the bar.

Patrick instructed him to give me anything I wanted, and then he leaned down and kissed my forehead.

"I'll try not to be too long." And with that he joined a tableful of men in black suits behind us. I looked around and noticed a man in a black suit on each side of Allyson and myself.

"He's never been subtle a day in his life," Allyson chuckled while taking a sip of her martini.

Then it hit me, this was all a set-up. He had brought me here so that Allyson could talk to me. He knew I had dealt with her for several months, and considered her to be a friend.

“
Al
l right, girl, what's this about?"

I was able to see Patrick's table clearly reflected in the mirrors that hung behind the bar. He wasn't looking at me, but I could see him talking to the men at the table.

"He told me you showed up at
Whiskers
alone the other night. I have to hand it to you, Christi, you've got balls."

I took a drink of my martini and then crossed my legs in her direction.

"I wouldn't necessarily say that. In hindsight, it was really stupid and I could've been hurt."

"He'd never let that happen, you know?
”
I shook my head.

“He won’t always be around to protect me."

“Thats not true, Christi."

"Really?" My tone was condescending.

“Patrick always has an eye on you."

I looked into the mirror again and saw that Patrick was still talking with the men at the table.

"No, he doesn't, he's having a conversation over there, see, look in the mirror for yourself."

Allyson smiled and then shook her head, "The bartender, Christi. He hasn't been more than a few feet from us since Patrick gave him his instructions."

I hadn't noticed it until now, but she was right.

“I’ll bet you also don't see the car that follows you around all day?"

“What car?”
I questioned.

"My point exactly."

Allyson and I sat in silence for a few minutes. As I continued to sip my drink, I took more notice of the room. When I first arrived, there were mostly men that you would find in any corner bar getting a drink after work. Now in addition to them, there were ladies dressed to the nines, huddled around tables sipping colorful drinks. There were more suits than I had ever seen. A scene from
Goodfellas
came to mind where the lead character came into the room and instantly a new table was placed near the stage for his date and himself.

"You do know who and what Patrick does, don't you?"

"It didn't take me long to figure it out, although my sister disagreed."

Shannon and I had barely spoken two words since that conversation. She felt I was wrong for wanting nothing to do with Patrick. Maybe Dillion wasn't as good of a guy as she deserved after all.

"He's a very powerful man, Chris."

I took another drink and nodded my head, "I thought so."

Allyson then turned to me and placed her hand on my knee. I looked first to her hand, and then back to her eyes. "He may be the most powerful man in this city, but right now, you have more power than he does."

I blinked at her and then tipped my head to the side. "How do you figure?"

"He's willing to do pretty much anything to have you by his side."

And just as quickly as she got my attention, she lost it.

"I can't give a man like him what he needs," I stated as I turned my body back to the bar.

"Just what do you think a man like Patrick would need?"

I began to run my finger around the rim of my glass. "Allyson, I've seen
Casino
and
The Godfather,
and I've watched enough episodes of the
Sopranos
to know that the women who are beside the powerful men are expected to ignore certain things."