Bobby Sinatra: In All the Wrong Places (The Rags to Romance Series Book 1)

by Mallory Monroe

  But again, there’s no anger coming from Bobby. But this time, I can hear a little hurt in his voice. Like he’s not just surprised, but disappointed. “And why isn’t it a smart idea, Rain?” he asks me.

  I know the man said he only had a second. I know he said he was already late for a meeting. But I owe him an explanation. “I have a question,” I say to him.

  He’s got a lot going on, but he still manages to sound patient with me. And less distracted too. I’ve got his attention. “And your question is?”

  “Is it against the rules at Jericho Inn for me to go out on a date with the owner’s son?”

  At first, he says nothing, as if that question dropped down from the moon somewhere. Then he answers me with a question of his own. “Why would you ask something like that?”

  “Because I don’t wanna lose my job over something I didn’t know was against the rules.”

  “Ah. I see. I get it now. So that job means more to you than going out on a date with me?”

  Is he serious? It’s not even close! “Duh,” I say, as if it’s obvious. But when I say it, he laughs. Boy does he laugh! Maybe I make him happy too.

  “No, Renita,” he says, between all his laughing, “it’s not against the rules. Not at all. And I assure you, my parents would never fire someone for dating, or breaking up with, a scoundrel like me. They’ll just blame me for the breakup and keep it moving,” he says. I laugh at that.

  When we manage to stop laughing, he says something so simple, but so sweet to me. “Thank you for being honest,” he says to me.

  Now I’m on cloud nine again. At least he’s a man who can handle the truth. I’ve dated many guys who couldn’t. Who’d just as soon I lie to them than tell them what time it is. That makes Bobby a special dude in my eyes. That makes Bobby somebody I’d be, as my grandma would say, a zip dang fool to let get away.

  Not that he’s trying to stay with somebody like me. But he was the one who said he wants to get to know me better. He was the one who picked up his phone and called me. He’s got my attention too. “Then, in answer to your question,” I say, “yes. I’m free tonight.”

  I’m rolling the dice.

  I’m taking the chance.

  Margo looks at me again when I accept his invitation. She disapproves, I can see it all over her pinch face. But her approval means nothing to me.

  “I’ll pick you up at seven,” Bobby says, that hurt sound completely gone from his voice now, like he’s on a cloud too.

  But I still don’t want this man seeing where I live. And especially not after I saw where he lives! I’m in transition. I don’t want to be defined by my poverty-stricken, temporary situation. We’re living in a motel for crying out loud. A cheap, rundown motel. No way is that considered a stable home environment. That may be prideful of me to not want him to see that I’m not very stable right now, but that’s me. “I’ll meet you at the restaurant,” I say to him.

  “No restaurant tonight,” he says to me. “I’m cooking tonight. Come to my place.”

  I glance at Margo when he says this, too, although she can’t hear what he’s saying. But I glance at her because I’m a little embarrassed. Because I know exactly what eating at his house really means. He wants to get to know me even better tonight. And in every way this time.

  But last night was special to me. I was happy for the first time in I don’t know how long. Besides, neither one of us are kids anymore. Why should we dance the dance like we have all this time in the world? If he wants to get to know me better, and in every way, then fine. I’m not mad at him.

  I want to get to know him too.

  “Okay,” I tell him. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Great. And Rain?”

  “Yes?”

  “Your ass better never rain-check me again.”

  I laugh. I can hear the laughter in his voice too. “Yes, sir,” I say, and he ends the call.

  When I hang up, I excuse myself and go to the bathroom. I know Margo’s looking at me with her judgmental eyes, but I don’t even care. Let her look! I’ve been on the rough side of that mountain for so long, with people like her blaming me for shit totally out of my control, that I’m gonna enjoy the smooth side for a change. It may not last. It may get bumpy real fast. But at least it’s smooth now.

  When I get in that restroom, and see that it’s empty, I do a fist pump and quietly shout yes! And I’m smiling from ear to ear. I want to call Ayden at school and tell him Mayor Sinatra asked me out again. He asked me out again! That’s the kind of close relationship Ayden and me have. That’s the kind of so-few-and-so-far-in-between wins we actually get. But I know I’m not about to disturb that child at school to tell him something like that. I’m not that far gone.

  But I am happy.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  I’m in my home office inside my penthouse, reading over a stack of briefing books about that damn water treatment plant we’ve been having so many issues with, when I see her drive up. I see her on the security monitor on my desk, the one that oversees my entire condominium building, including cameras on every single floor. My father insisted on it. If I was going to purchase a building of this magnitude, he told me when I was thinking about buying it, then I’d better know what’s happening in every corner of it. I took his advice, and went all out.

  Now I’m watching the front entrance, as Rain is getting out of her little wrecked car. But only she didn’t drive up to the valet station so they could park her car for her like all my other guests do. She’s parking it in the parking lot in front of the building: the lot for visitors. I smile. She doesn’t break the rules. She’s no rule breaker. Even in our conversation this morning she was concerned about not breaking rules. Since I break’em all the time, that’s a good thing. Our kids don’t need both parents fucking up.

  What?

  What the fuck did I just say?

  What kids?

  What parents?

  I barely know this chick and I’m planning a family with her already? Seriously?

  Yeah, I want a family. I always knew I’d eventually get around to having one. My old man’s been getting on my case about settling down. He loves to say, in his jokey way, that there’s no ho like an old ho. So yeah, I want a family. But do I want one with her? Does she want one with me?

  I stare at her as she walks across the parking lot toward the front entrance. She’s wearing a pair of loose-fitting trousers tonight, with an airy and sleeveless yellow-and-red blouse that hangs just above her waist, revealing a tiny snippet of her flat stomach. A stomach with what looks like a small ring on her belly button. A girl with daring in her. She’s my kind of girl!

  She’s also wearing high heels, which I love, and she’s stepping like a boss, with the strap of her purse over her narrow shoulder as she clutches it against her body.

  That body, I’m thinking, as I stare at her. I lean back in my chair staring at that beautiful body. She’s small, but she’s got curves, that’s for damn sure. There’s no boy look about her. And the way she’s taking those long strides, and the way her hair’s bouncing against her long neck, and the way her boobs are bouncing too. Damn. I’m rubbing my dick looking at her.

  But then she stops, turns, and head back to her car. And now I’m upset. Is she changing her mind? Did she decide hanging with me isn’t such a good idea after all? I’m actually getting nervous about this shit!

  But then I calm my ass back down. She probably forgot to get something out of her car, that’s all. Why am I panicking about this stupid shit?

  I settle back down. And now I get to see the back of her: her ass for a change. And man, I am not disappointed! So many females in Jericho have flat asses that I used to wonder if it was in our fucked-up water or something. Before I moved back home eleven years ago, I was accustomed to those Boston butts, with their sweet, juicy asses, and their sweet taste too. But now I’m back in flat city.

  But there’s nothing flat about Renita’s ass.

  She’s
so tight, and so round that I have to unzip and pull my dick out before it cums. Just watching that fine ass had me tenting my pants, the same way it happened twice before. I can’t wait to get my dick inside of that tight, perfect ass. But I don’t allow myself to cum. I don’t want to cum without her.

  But I know I have to be careful. I’m known for being rough in bed: I could scare her away. That’s happened in my past too. More times than I care to admit. I’ve got to get myself under control by the time she gets up here. I have no intention of scaring Rain away.

  But when she opens her car door, she doesn’t grab anything out of it. She presses her lock down. She didn’t forget to get anything, she forgot to lock her car, and she apparently doesn’t have a key fob, or whatever else they use these days to automatically lock a car door.

  Now she’s on her way back, taking those long, elegant strides again. Heading for the entrance. Heading to me.

  And that’s how I feel about it. She’s coming to me. This woman, this beautiful, elegant woman, belongs to me!

  But why do I feel that way? It’s confounding the hell out of me! What is it about her that I haven’t found in anybody else? I enjoyed being with her on the one date I’ve had with her. But I’ve enjoyed being with lots of ladies. I like the way she carries herself, and I like how she thinks. But ditto to other ladies I’ve been with. And I wasn’t trying to marry any of them!

  Besides, this Laura baby situation complicates matters too. I went by her house last night, after Rain left, to talk to her ass, but she wouldn’t answer the door. Her neighbor said she wasn’t home and hasn’t been home for a few days. Gerard seems to think Capecchi’s hiding her for the big reveal.

  I’m not telling Rain about any of that shit. Not until I know that it’s for real, and Laura and Capecchi aren’t trying to pull a fast one.

  We’ve got to get our shit together, though, I told Gerard last night, but watching Rain makes me wonder if she’d be willing to put up with all of my shit. Especially if my past behavior comes out. She’s a tough girl. But she’s no fly-by-the-seat-of-her pants type. She may still have some Street in her, but that doesn’t mean she’s down for whatever. She’s not. She’s not that kind of girl. And anybody who claims she is, I’ll kick their ass.

  I stand up, zip my pants, and remove my suit coat from the back of my chair. I already notified the night manager that she was coming, and he was to escort her up. And sure enough, he’s waiting at the entrance for her. He already thinks I’m a little loopy going all-out for some female for the first time since forever, and he even asked me why her. “What’s so special about that one?” he had the nerve to ask me.

  I told him to mind his fucking business. What the fuck was his problem? I wasn’t casual like that with my employees. They didn’t come at me any kind of way. He apologized, quickly, and got his ass back to work. Now he’s doing his job. Now all is right again with our relationship.

  I put on my suit coat as I make my way out of my home office, across the open expanse of my living room, and out in the hall where my private elevator sits. When the doors open, and I see Rain’s smiling face, I smile too.

  And then the strangest thing happens.

  When we walk up to each other, and we’re within an inch of each other, my plan was to just escort her into my crib. Exchange pleasantries and walk her on in. But I, instead, get emotional seeing her again. I can’t believe it, but I’m emotional seeing this woman again! And instead of motioning for her to go on in into the penthouse, I place my hands on the side of her arms.

  All smiles are gone. Suddenly she’s looking serious and I know I am. Because there’s nothing funny about the feelings I’m feeling inside for this particular person. It’s not love. I’m not even sure if I know what love is. But it feels as if I’ve known her all my life. And I’ve been waiting for her to show up. And now she’s here.

  I pull her into my arms.

  And we’re just standing here, hugging each other, and I place one of my hands on the back of her soft hair as I’m holding her. She smells so sweet and so fresh and she feels so fragile in my arms. Like I can break her in two if I’m not careful. So I hold her carefully, protectively, as I’m trying to figure out where in the world do we go from here?

  I’ve exposed myself to her. Why else would I be hugging on her like she’s my long, lost love? Why else would my heart be beating so fast, and my dick be throbbing so hard, and my mind can’t think of anything but having this woman in my arms? And it’s not a sex thing. Fuck sex! I want this woman beside me, around me, in my life somehow.

  When I’m finally able to stop hugging her, and I lean back and look into her eyes, I can see she’s as scared as I am. What the fuck is this, I can tell she’s asking herself too. Where are these emotions coming from? But I’m in no position to answer her. I don’t know either.

  I’m rubbing her arms. I’m looking at her curly hair, and then back into her eyes. “How was your day?” I ask her. We’re standing in the middle of the hallway outside of my penthouse, and I’m asking her a throwaway question.

  But she seems to appreciate that I’m not going to where we both know we need to go. I’m not discussing the elephant in the room, just the room. “It was nice,” she says to me. “I’m learning a lot.”

  “Who’s teaching you?”

  “Donald, mostly. But this girl named Margo too.”

  “Donnie’s teaching you? That’s good. He used to be the desk clerk supervisor.”

  “That’s what he said.” Then she smiles. “Margo seems to think Donald wants me.”

  “I’ll break every bone in his body!”

  I say it so suddenly, and with such intensity, that I alarm my own self. Where the fuck did that come from?

  Rain’s alarmed, too, staring at me. But it’s said now. And it’s not like I didn’t mean it. Which alarms me even more.

  I motion for her to go on inside.

  And as she does, I know what I have to do. I’ve got to turn this shit around. I’m not ready for this kind of heavy emotional ride! I’ve got a campaign to run. I’ve got Laura to deal with, and Capecchi. I’ve got a city to run. I don’t need this! I don’t want this! I can’t have this!

  I’ve got to get her in bed, and fuck her rough, and turn her completely off.

  Then she’ll leave me.

  Like they always do.

  And I won’t have to deal with these crazy, irrational, unexplainable emotions ever again.

  She’ll be one and done.

  And that will be just fine by me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  But a strange thing happens when we get to the bedroom.

  We talked, we listened to a little music, and we ate dinner. All the while that air of expectation was hanging just above our heads like a cloud. Then I take her hand, and escort her to my bedroom. I’m ready to fuck her senseless, and as rough as I can, and make her feel like I’m the animal I know I can be.

  But as we kiss, and end up naked, and I’m about to throw her on my bed and get it over with, I look into her eyes.

  And when I see her, and see that vulnerability, and that hopefulness, and that abject fear that she’s giving me her heart, and I just might trample on it, everything changes. And I can’t do it. I can’t do this to her. Not to her!

  Instead of tossing her on the bed and fucking her like I don’t care, I pull back the covers, lay her in my bed, and get in beside her.

  When I get in beside her, she turns sideways and look at me with eyes that are confused. She’s looking as if she was expecting exactly what I planned to give her: a rough, let’s-get-it-over-with fuck. Who knows? Maybe that’s what she’s used to. That’s why I turn on my side, too, and face her.

  It’s like facing my fear.

  I start rubbing her arm. For some reason, I get a sense of comfort when I touch her. “I don’t want to hurt you, Rain,” I say to her.

  She’s looking at me with quizzical eyes. “You mean physically,” she asks, “or emotionally?”<
br />
  “Both,” I say honestly.

  She nods her head, like she fully understands.

  I place my hand on the side of her small, soft face. And I try to smile through what I know is a grim look on my face. “You do the craziest shit to my heart,” I say to her. Then I look in her eyes, to see if she really understands.

  When she smiles back at me, I know she does. “You do crazy shit to mine,” she says to me, and we laugh.

  “What do you think it is?” I ask her. I’m now rubbing the side of her face. I’m looking down, at her beautiful breasts, and I rub them too. I want to rub between her legs. But she doesn’t answer, until I look, once again, into her eyes.

  “I think it’s two people trying to figure it out,” she says to me.

  That gets my attention. “What are we trying to figure out?” I ask her.

  “What we want out of life. Do we really want to be in love, and all the shit that goes with it. Or is being in lust enough?”

  I stare at her, still rubbing her. “What’s the answer,” I ask her, “for you?”

  “I don’t know,” she says to me. Then she looks at me. “What’s the answer,” she asks me, “for you?”

  I can say I don’t know right back at her, but I don’t think that’ll be the truth. “I’ve been in lust all my life,” I say to her. “Fuck lust. I don’t need any more of that. But . . .”

  She’s staring at me now, and the hope in her eyes is devastating. “But what?” she asks me.

  “But I’ve never been in love before. Not true love before. And at my age,” I add, with a frown on my face, “that’s kind of ridiculous.”

  She places her hand on the side of my face. Now I’m really feeling her. Because her touch is so warm, and soft, and special. “I thought I was in love once, to Ayden’s father,” she says. “But that wasn’t love either. So I guess we’re kind of in the same boat in that department.”

  I smile. “That settles it then,” I say to her.