Speak Easy (12 page)

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Authors: Melanie Harlow

Tags: #Romance, #New Adult, #Historical

BOOK: Speak Easy
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“Would you…would you mind giving me their phone number or address so I can contact them?” I hated asking her, but I was desperate.

“I’ll do better than that. Mother is pretty friendly with Mrs. Anderson, and I know she’d be glad to do you the favor.”

“Really? Oh, Evelyn! Tell your mother how grateful we are.” I glanced through the front window of the bakery, where Mrs. LaChance was ringing up a customer. “Did Rosie tell you about Daddy?”

“No.” She looked concerned. “Is everything OK?”

I paused. “Can you keep a secret?”

It felt good to confide in Evelyn. I trusted her, and I needed someone besides Joey to tell me things would be all right. Leaving out only the parts where I got romantic with Enzo, I told her everything. Evelyn’s eyes got wider and wider, and finally she grabbed my hand and squeezed, tears filling her eyes. “Oh, Tiny,” she moaned softly. “How awful!”

“It is,” I agreed. “But they promised not to hurt him as long as I got the ransom to them by their deadline.”

She sniffed. “You can do it. I know you can. And I’ll help you.”

“Thanks.”

“I should get back to work, but I’ll call you as soon as I talk to Mother. There might be other parties needing liquor too. Should I ask her?”

Hope flooded my veins. “Yes. Evvy—you’re the best. Thank you.”

#

Evelyn called not two hours after I got home. She said the Andersons would take two cases, and if I’d part with the rest of the bottles for two hundred dollars, her mother would buy them from me and sell them out the back door of the bakery. She was sure she could get rid of them quickly with all the June weddings and parties, and while she didn’t want to go into the bootlegging business, she was glad to do a favor for Daddy just this once.

“Sold,” I said, my heart swelling with gratitude. I went to the boathouse, loaded up, and delivered to the Andersons’ home on Beverly Road as well as the bakery’s back door. With over five hundred dollars in my pocket, I felt almost light-hearted as we drove back to my house.

“I can’t believe I’m going to that club tonight,” Evelyn said, twisting her hands together. “We’ll need to go to my house after supper so I can pick out something to wear. Your clothes aren’t going to fit me.”

“We’ll have time, don’t worry.”

Joey’s car was on the street in front of my house. When we walked in the front door, the aroma that greeted us sent my head spinning. Onions and garlic and tomatoes and sausage and something else—maybe oregano or rosemary? I wasn’t good at identifying herbs, but whatever it was, my stomach groaned in anticipation. In the kitchen, Joey stood with an apron-clad Molly at the stove, watching her stir. “Yeah, break up those tomatoes a little bit. Good.” He looked up when we entered the room. “Hope you’re hungry, girls.”

“Joey, that smells delicious!” said Evelyn. “Can we help you?”

“Why don’t you two put together a salad from the vegetables I brought? They’re in bags on the table.”

“We’d be glad to.” Evelyn smiled at Joey in a way that reminded me of Rosie, and when he turned back to the stove, she looked at me and fanned her face. I rolled my eyes, even though I secretly agreed. There was something very attractive about a man who knew what he was doing in the kitchen. Especially when he looked like Joey.

While Evelyn unpacked the bags, I washed my hands and listened as Joey instructed Molly to get the cinnamon and sugar from the pantry.

“You put cinnamon in spaghetti sauce?” I asked, surprised.

“Yes. And we call it
gravy
,” he said, swatting my behind with a spatula, “which none of you Irish girls seem to understand.”

I smiled, glad he was back to teasing me. “Gravy goes on meat and potatoes. What you’re making is for noodles, so we call it
sauce
.” I bumped his hip with mine.

“Noodles!” he exclaimed. “My ma’s homemade mostaccioli ain’t noodles. Do you know what I had to say to get her to let me have some?”

I laughed as I dried my hands. “No, what?”

“Let’s just say I had to make a promise I’m not sure I can keep.”

“About what?”

“Grandchildren.” He shook his head and muttered something in Italian. “And she says she’s gonna light candles for me at church, so if I lied to her, the Virgin Mary will punish me.”

“Then I’ll pray for you.” Crossing myself, I set the towel down and looked at Evelyn, who was watching us with a confused expression on her face. I turned to the cabinets and pulled a large mixing bowl down so she wouldn’t see me blush. “Here, let’s use this for the salad.”

“All right.” Evelyn’s voice was hesitant, as if she felt unsure of herself. “I’ll…I’ll peel the carrots if you want to tear up the lettuce.”

“Sure.” I got to work at the table while she stood at the counter. While I worked I snuck a few glances at Joey’s back as he talked Molly through adding a little red wine—which he’d brought—and then salt, pepper, oregano, basil, cinnamon, and sugar to the sauce. He was fully clothed, of course, but I couldn’t help picturing his back like I’d seen it last night, naked and muscular. As I tossed the lettuce into the bowl, I thought about some girl’s hands clutching at those muscles, maybe sliding down to grip his hips as he moved over her. My face burned and my belly hollowed just thinking of it. I brought my feet primly together. But I wondered…what would that feel like? Would Joey be gentle or rough? What would his skin smell like?
Probably garlic and tomatoes tonight.
I lowered my face to hide a smile, but when I imagined how he might put his hands on the girl, it slid right off my lips. I didn’t like thinking about his hands on anyone. I didn’t want to know about their capacity for tenderness, or for violence.

Liar.

I looked at him again and found him studying me. He averted his eyes quickly and cleared his throat. “Do you want a glass of wine?”

“Yes. Pour one for Evelyn too. She deserves it for helping me sell forty bottles of whiskey today.” I smiled gratefully at her. “Actually, she practically sold them by herself.”

“Yeah?” Joey smiled as he handed her a tumbler of wine. “Good for you.”

Evelyn’s cheeks pinkened. “It was nothing.”

Joey poured two more and handed one to me.
“Salut.”
Lifting his glass, he leaned toward me and spoke low. “Here’s to a big night.”

We tipped our glasses, eyes on one another.

Chapter Twelve

 

We ate by candlelight, with an ivory linen tablecloth underneath matching plates and the radio playing softly in the front room. The meal was delicious, and I was more ravenous than I’d been in weeks, maybe months. The wine took the edge off my nerves, but I kept finding it difficult not to look at Joey, who sat across from me. I’d never noticed how long his eyelashes were, or the sweet way he closed his eyes during grace before meals.

That is the wine talking. Eat your goddamn dinner and get upstairs.

But I could have sworn I caught him looking at me once or twice too.

When everyone had finished, the girls and Evelyn started on the dishes while I said goodbye to Joey. “Be careful tonight,” I told him at the door. “And let me know as soon as you can how everything went.”

“You be careful too. I know he’s good-looking, Tiny, but he’s one of them.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Look who’s talking. I don’t need any lectures from you, pal. Except maybe on cooking.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” He pulled his cap from his back pocket and slapped my shoulder with it before setting it on his head. “See you.”

I watched him jog to his car and said a quick prayer for his safety.

#

When the dishes were done, Evelyn and I went up to my bedroom so I could change. “Tiny, what the hell?” she burst out as soon as we shut the door.

“What?” From my closet I took out the blue dress, holding it at arm’s length to check for wrinkles.

“You and Joey, that’s what!” She plopped down on my bed. “It’s completely obvious.”

I pressed the dress to my body and looked in the mirror over my dresser. My cheeks were flushed from the wine. “There is no me and Joey.”

“Yet.”

“Ever.”

She looked at me in the mirror. “Why not? He’s gorgeous. He’s sweet. He cooks.”

Because I’ve already had my hands on another gangster’s cock.
“Mmmm, supper
was
good, wasn’t it? I don’t remember when I’ve eaten so much.”

“Yes, it was, although I don’t know how you two got any eating done the way you kept stopping to stare at each other.”

I turned to her, lowering the dress. “Evelyn, stop it. I’m not interested in Joey.”

“You think you’re not, but I know you. You are.” She crossed her arms, watching me lay the dress on the bed. “And I think you should do it.”

“Do what?” I opened a dresser drawer and began pulling out my undergarments.

“You know what. I would.”

I glanced at her over my shoulder. “So you do it.”

She sighed. “I would do it with him in a heartbeat if I thought he was interested. But he’s only got eyes for you.”

“You’re mistaken.” I lifted my black stockings from the drawer. “We can hardly stand each other. And besides, I’ve got eyes for someone else right now.” I held up my step-in and gave it a little shake. “Someone who knows what I wear underneath that blue dress.”

Evelyn gasped. “Tell!”

“I will, and I’ll even introduce you to him tonight, if he’s there.” I tossed everything onto the bed. “But the situation is a little strange.”

“Why?”

“Well, he’s got a girl, for one. And he’s sort of got my father too—he’s Angel DiFiore’s son.”

Evelyn’s jaw dropped open. “Tiny, are you crazy? Don’t you think it’s a little dangerous to be fooling around with him?”

“More than a little,” I said, unbuttoning my blouse. “But you’ll understand when you see him. And you’ll know why I’m not interested in Joey.”

Because I wasn’t. Not at all.

I just had to keep saying that.

#

At Evelyn’s house, I helped her choose an outfit—a pale pink sleeveless dress with a dropped waist and white satin-ribbon sash. The hem fell nearly to her ankles, but the color was good for her and she wore a beautiful strand of pearls with it. She raided Rosie’s vanity for a gold headband, which set off her fair hair, but I didn’t want to borrow one without asking. Instead Evelyn plucked a gardenia from her mother’s garden and I pinned it above my ear.

Once we arrived at the club, we stood near the bar and I ordered champagne cocktails for both of us. Sipping the bubbly concoction from a stemmed glass, I tried to appear casual as I scoured the crowd for Enzo. Inside my evening bag was the six hundred dollars from Joey.

“Do you think we’ll be asked to dance?” Evelyn was looking over the crowd too.

“Maybe. If you see someone you like, meet his eye,” I encouraged. “You have to let him know you’re interested.”

“I’ll try. But you’re always so much better at this than I am.”

“Better at what? Just look at him. You don’t even have to say anything.”

She giggled. “OK. Hey, that one’s cute over there, don’t you think?”

“Where?” I followed her eye to where a heavyset young man with sandy hair stood talking to friends. He didn’t look like a gangster, so I relaxed a bit. “Yes, he is. And he’s looking this way, so smile.”

She did, and I could tell he noticed her. But as he took a step in our direction, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Couldn’t stay away?”

I turned, going breathless at Enzo’s body so near mine. “I came to pay you back.”

“Already? I’m impressed.”

I lowered my voice so Evelyn couldn’t hear. “Shall we do it here?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh—you mean the money.” Looking to our left, his eyes lingered on the crowd down front. Gina gawked at us as she stood at their table, hands on her hips.

“You’re being watched.”

He sighed and I could smell the whisky on his breath, even stronger than usual. “Her father’s here tonight. It’s a complete drag. If he didn’t own a distillery in Kentucky, I’d take you back into the stairwell so I could finish what you started.”

My stomach flipped madly. “Maybe I should just give you the cash now.”

“Probably.” He drained the glass before leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Because if I get you alone one more time, I won’t stop until you let me have my way. First with my fingers. Then with my tongue. Then with my big, hard cock.”

Heat rushed my face, and I knew my cheeks must be painted scarlet. Fumbling, I dug into my bag and handed Enzo the money without meeting his eyes. Then I reached for my drink. Taking three long swallows, I finished it and set down the empty glass.

Enzo laughed, deep and low. “Would you like another?”

“Yes.”

I felt a tug on my elbow. “Tiny? I’m going to dance, OK?” I turned and saw Evelyn holding the arm of the sandy-haired man, an eager expression on her face. The man smiled and said hello, but I barely heard him. I managed to give Evelyn a half-smile.

“Enjoy the music,” Enzo told them, his words slurring a little. He flagged down the bartender while I pressed a hand to my stomach.
Get out of here. He’s drunk.
But when he handed me the second cocktail and held up his glass to me, my resolve faltered.

He’s so damn gorgeous. I’ll just look at him while I have one more drink. No harm in looking, right?

“I’d invite you to join me at my table, but I don’t think it would go over well,” he said.

“Probably not.”

“And having you so close might be more than I can bear, anyway.”

I glugged my champagne like it was water and said nothing.

“So then, I bid you farewell for tonight.” He picked up my left hand and kissed the back of it before sauntering away. I watched him walk to his table, where Gina tugged him into a chair and sat on his lap.

Bitch.

“Hey,” came a menacing whine from behind me. “What’s the big idea with my brother?”

Fucking Raymond.
I turned and glued a smile to my face. “I just needed Enzo for a moment.”

“You and every other dumb Dora in this town.” A toothpick hung out of his mouth and he grabbed it, poking at the air between us. “You should be talkin’ to me. I’m the one that’s getting you what you want, ain’t I?”

“That’s right. You are,” I said, doing my best Rosie routine. “I don’t know why I was wasting my time with him.”

Raymond nodded and stuck the toothpick back in his mouth. “That’s better. Say, want to go up to a room?”

I sipped my drink and smiled with tight lips. “I have a friend here. I shouldn’t leave her alone.”

“You could bring her too. I got some booze stashed away up there.”

“How clever of you.”

He puffed out his chest. “I am clever. They don’t believe it, but I am.” He looked toward Enzo’s table. “And pretty soon I’m gonna make my move.”

“What move?”

He whipped his eyes back to me. “Don’t you worry about it none, doll. You’ll know it when I do. Everybody will.”

My stomach lurched, and I set down the drink.
I have to leave.
I’d paid Enzo back, and being around him was too frustrating.
I’ll just go home and wait for Joey to bring me good news about the rum heist. I hope those guys rob the fucking DiFiores blind.
“You know, I’m suddenly not feeling too well,” I said. “I think I should find my friend and head home. Excuse me.”

“Don’t forget about tomorrow night and the rum,” he called as I walked away. “It’s the real malloy.”

McCoy, you asshole.
Spotting Evelyn on the dance floor, I waited for the song to finish before approaching. I tapped her shoulder, and when she turned to me her face was flushed and radiant. It fell when I asked if she’d mind leaving now.

“I can take her home later,” her partner volunteered. “I’d like to, in fact.” He smiled at her, and he looked like a decent guy, but I felt strange about leaving her.

“But we have that early shift tomorrow.” I made sharp eye contact with Evelyn, giving her the chance to let him down easy if she’d prefer to go with me.

“I switched mine, remember?” She patted my hand. “It’s all right. Ted can drive me. And Rosie’s here too.” She pointed to a table near the dance floor, where Rosie was cuddling up to a tall man in a tuxedo.

“All right. Well, have fun.” I hugged her and headed for the exit, refusing to look in the direction of Enzo and Gina’s table.

If I had, I would’ve seen that Enzo wasn’t there.

Just as I reached the hallway leading to the exit, he stepped in front of me, his eyes snapping with anger. “Why were you talking to Raymond?”

“None of your business.” My heart clunked.

“He’s an idiot,” Enzo spat, and I realized he wasn’t so much suspicious as jealous.

Ha! How do you like it?
“You’re drunk,” I hissed. “Go back to your girl and her Kentucky distillery.” I tried to step around him, but he wrapped his fingers around my forearm, his eyes darkening with fury.

“No.”

I attempted to shake him off. “Let me go.”

“I want you to stay.”

“And I’m sure you’re used to getting what you want from women, but the answer is no.” I clenched my teeth and my thighs together. “Now let go of my arm.” He only gripped me harder, pulled me closer.

“I know you want me.”

How badly I wanted to deny it, but my insides were aching for him. I lifted my chin. “I want you to
beg
.”

A smile spread across his lips before he yanked me behind a red curtain into the dim hatcheck room. “Leave us,” he said to the girl working in there. She slipped out without a word, and Enzo swung the curtain closed. Then he spun me around, twisting my right arm behind my back and crushing my chest to the wall. I gasped as he pressed into me, heating the side of my face with heavy breaths. His tongue traced the shell of my ear. “You want me to beg?”

I could feel how hard he was against the small of my back. Every inch of me buzzed with fearsome desire. “Yes.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Miss O’Mara.” Grinding against me, he whispered in my ear. “I’m begging you. Please.”

In that moment I knew nothing but want—for his body, for total abandon, for the mindless ecstasy I knew he could bring. “Yes,” I said. “Yes.”

“In five minutes, give my name to the bartender and he’ll let you into the storage room. I’ll meet you at the entrance to the tunnel.” Releasing me, he disappeared through the curtain.

I stood there, mouth open, my breath coming quick and heavy. The hatcheck girl returned and I avoided meeting her eyes.
Don’t look at anyone
, I told myself as I slipped through the curtain.
Keep your eyes low, put one foot in front of the other, and for God’s sake, don’t think!
Hurrying to the bar on surprisingly steady legs, I pictured him in his black three-piece suit. Imagined those pieces coming off, one by one.

Yes, I wanted his clothes off. I wanted to feel his bare, hot skin on mine. I wanted to make him weak with desire and bring him to heel. I wanted to hear him say he wanted me, couldn’t resist me. Keeping my back to the room, I counted off five minutes, growing more agitated with every passing second. Speaking low, I gave the bartender his name and was granted access to the storage room. I walked to the far wall, and two seconds later the door opened and Enzo pulled me into the tunnel. As soon as he shut the door behind me, I lunged for him. His arms lashed around my back and his whisky-flavored tongue drove into my mouth, igniting a flame at my center that flared throughout my body like wildfire. I tried to push his coat from his shoulders.

“Not here.” He took my arm and pulled me quickly through the blindingly dark tunnel. We exited into a stairwell, and I stumbled going up. He caught me by the elbows, dragging me to my feet, and five seconds later we burst into the paneled hallway, which was dark and empty of guards.

Is he taking me to the office again?
We raced down the hall, and for one fleeting moment, I had the fear that it was all a setup and Angel would be waiting for me behind his desk, ready to impose a new deadline or demand more money.

At the office door, Enzo took out his keys and unlocked it before shoving me inside. Then he shut the door behind us and locked it again with a loud click. In the silence that followed, I was glad to hear his breathing was as labored as mine. His keys and my purse hit the floor. My heart felt as if it would crack my ribs, it rattled against them so hard.

“My father is away tonight.” Enzo moved toward me in the darkness.

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