Speakeasy, Speak Love

by Sharon G Clark

  Lorraine looked amused. “Can’t I have a bite, since we scared off the Feds and bad guys together?” She expected Lorraine to be having fun at her expense, but the beautiful blonde had a mischievous glint of amusement twinkling in her eyes.

  Automatically, Fiona raised her fork, scooped up a bite of pie, and aimed it toward Lorraine’s open mouth. Ruby red lips surrounded the fork, Lorraine raised one eyebrow, and Fiona shook her head. “Your bewitching won’t work on me,” Fiona said, shaking her head.

  Lorraine placed a hand to her ample bosom. “You wound me, Finn.”

  “I doubt it,” Fiona said, taking a large bite of pie for herself. She chewed, swallowed, offered Lorraine another bite. “Thank you, Lorraine. If you hadn’t helped me, I might have done something stupid, or not been able to do anything at all. I’m beginning to like you.” Lorraine’s response was a wink and understanding smile.

  Chairs scraping across the wood floor let Fiona and Lorraine know the meeting was over. Dwyer and his entourage left, his two men outside escorting them to their car. Eldon walked over to her table. “Thank you, Finn. That worked like a charm.” He turned to Jimmy. “I need you to have a word with Owen. He no longer needs this job.” Jimmy didn’t appear happy with the comment, but he walked over to Owen, who was shuffling into the kitchen. “You did well, Finn. I’m sorry you didn’t get the assistance you needed.” She shrugged. “Are we ready to go?” he asked, taking Lorraine’s hand and assisting her from her seat.

  Fiona glanced toward the kitchen. “Owen’s fired?”

  Eldon picked up the discarded fork and scraped a huge chunk of pie on it, shoving it in his mouth as if it would evaporate if he moved too slowly. “Love this stuff.” He swallowed and moaned appreciatively. “Yes, he is.” Eldon shoved a hand in his pocket, the other arm curled around Lorraine’s waist. Voice lowered and intense, Eldon said, “Listen, kid. You work for me, just like Owen, just like everyone here and more. You had a job to do that was almost sabotaged by Owen pointedly ignoring you.”

  “But it all worked out okay,” Fiona said. She’d been frustrated by Owen’s inactions, but not surprised, and didn’t want to be responsible for his losing employment.

  “This time, and no thanks to Owen.” Eldon glanced at the men outside. “Doesn’t matter to me you’re the youngest on my payroll, Finn, because I take your word and opinion just like any of them out there. Maybe I’m more accepting because you’ve not let me down. If Giuffrida’s men had been able to sneak up on us, we could all be dead.”

  Lorraine leaned into Eldon and flashed a smile at Fiona. “We should get Finn to the house. He needs to drive Margaret to her party tonight, especially since he looks so handsome.”

  “You’re right of course,” Eldon said, moving to the door and opening it for Lorraine. “Why is that important?” he asked Lorraine. Fiona would have rushed in front to make sure the path was clear, but let the men outside be responsible. Besides, she wanted to hear Lorraine’s reasoning.

  “You want her to find a beau, right?” Eldon nodded. “What better way for a young man to present his best than to flaunt another handsome one in front of his face?”

  Fiona suspected the statement was Lorraine’s off-handed way to compliment her on the new attire, but worried Eldon would read more into her own interest in Margaret. When had her life slipped so out of control, she wondered? Lorraine hit on another concern for Fiona. How would she react when Margaret flaunted her male friends in front of Fiona?

  Chapter Twenty-two

  THE UPCOMING EXCITEMENT of the evening radiated from Margaret and could light the night sky, Fiona thought. Not that it was necessary as the evening was pleasantly warm, and the sky bright with stars as ten o’clock approached. Why did rich people entertain so late? Margaret’s happiness made Fiona happy, but a small part of her pained too, as one more checkmark appeared in the column acknowledging their differences. The party that Margaret would attend in an hour didn’t bring her the same joy. Fiona had watched Margaret, since her return from Sorriso, hardly able to contain her elation.

  Fiona, forced to continue wearing the suit from the restaurant meeting, now waited for Margaret in front of the house, the car running in anticipation of their journey. Leaning against the car, hands in her pockets and legs crossed at the ankles, Fiona hoped to portray a picture of nonchalance. Inside, her stomach churned, feeling dread rallying, and announcing the beginning of changes that would catapult them both into the unknown.

  Fiona worried about what could be keeping Margaret. Pushing off the car, Fiona prepared to go inside when the front door opened. She straightened and her mouth opened in an O of awe at the vision before her. Margaret wore a mermaid-style dress consisting of a charcoal mesh, long-sleeved overlay splashed with silver sequins and beads, with a small trail of material behind, lined by a sleek black dress. On her hands were charcoal gloves. Onyx and silver earrings dangled visibly from her ears with her hair up in the back, the front done in the Marcel waves becoming popular. She was stunning. Fiona was truly out of her depth in this woman’s presence.

  Fiona rushed up the stairs to assist Margaret to the car. “You’re a dazzler, Margaret,” she said, taking Margaret’s gloved hand in hers.

  “Thank you, Finn.”

  Fiona escorted her to the car and released her hand with a quick squeeze once Margaret slid into the back seat. Fiona closed the door, rushed around the car and got behind the steering wheel.

  “You remember the directions?” Margaret asked. Fiona nodded. “Then let the games begin.”

  Despite the odd statement, Fiona knew Margaret was excited about the party, having spoken of little else since her announcement to Fiona at Dr. Matthews. At first, Fiona believed it was for Eldon’s benefit, and subsequently, anyone in hearing range who could inform Eldon of her mentioning it. Fiona recognized the glint of joyful expectation this gathering brought Margaret. Fiona felt changes about to happen, which confirmed her world was about to spin out of her control.

  Fiona drove up the road about two miles to reach the Hartwell’s driveway. If the line of cars ahead were any indication, most of the elite of Boston were attending. She waited her turn to pull in front of the house so she could let Margaret out. The Hartwell home appeared to be an earlier design than the Graham home, in the old Federal style, boxy, low-hipped roof, molding on the cornices, even fanlights over the front doors. Both homes spoke of money. This is where Margaret belonged, what Fiona couldn’t provide her—another acknowledgment of their differences.

  The way cleared and she pulled up in front. A young man in black trousers, white gloves, and maroon jacket with high collar rushed to the driver’s side, as another opened Margaret’s door. “Park over along the exit drive, if you’re waiting.”

  “I’m waiting.” Fiona turned toward Margaret. “Don’t hesitate to send someone to me, if you have a need.”

  Margaret smiled. “Of course, Finn, but I’m sure I’ll be just fine. I won’t stay too long. Just make an appearance to make Eldon happy.”

  Fiona nodded, waiting until Margaret was assisted out of the vehicle and inside the front door before she moved the car to the designated area. Margaret may believe what she said, but Fiona suspected once inside around people of similar age and background, time would cease to have the same meaning.

  THE INSIDE FOYER, sitting room, and library doors stood opened and filled with the laughter of people enjoying themselves. Margaret glanced around, noticing people from her childhood, some from college, and so far, none was her hostess. She moved to the left and entered the sitting room. Finger sandwiches, hors d'oeuvres, and a large crystal bowl with punch lined a table pushed against the far wall. Windows along the wall were open to let in the night air to cool the heating of numerous bodies. Chaise lounges, a high back couch, and padded chairs were placed around the room. The fireplace had a large vase of flowers placed in its center.

  Margaret didn’t immediately spot Janice, and just as she did, a warm breath brushed against her nec
k, as a voice said, “You’re magnificent as always, dearest Meggie.”

  Only Janice, and her older brother of two years called her by the nickname. “Mark,” she said, turning and giving the man a hug. “It’s been a while.” She gave him a quick once over. Mark was short for a man, not more than a couple inches taller than Fiona, thick blond hair cut neat above his ears and slicked back. His body was healthy, but thin, and he had long slender fingers. He’d be handsome if not for his huge hooked nose. “You look good as always.”

  “Thank you,” Mark said warmly. “Compliments will get you whatever you want. May I get you something now?”

  “In a little while, maybe, after I thank your sister for inviting me.”

  He glanced up and over her shoulder. “Here she comes now.”

  “Meggie, it’s been too long,” Janice Hartwell gushed, wrapping Margaret in a firm warm embrace. Janice, a near identical image of her brother only curvaceous where Mark was thin, her nose shorter, had always been the wild one in their friendship, often coaxing Mark and Margaret into childhood escapades.

  “Yes, it has been, and entirely my fault,” Margaret said, returning the hug. Janice stepped back. “I won’t rely on what I see, though the answer appears positive, that you are doing okay?”

  “Yes, everything is grand.” Janice moved closer to Margaret. “I thought I’d seen you last week, shopping, but you’d disappeared before I had a chance to catch your attention. Then there was that awful shooting business.” Margaret felt the color drain from her face, her body shiver in memory of Fiona’s bullet wound.

  Mark touched her elbow. “Are you all right, Meggie?”

  Margaret nodded, Fiona’s image as she lay bleeding on Edward’s exam table flashing in her memory. “I’m fine. The bullet hit my driver while protecting me.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Janice said, placing an arm on Margaret’s shoulder. “From your expression, you care for the man. I take it the driver wasn’t Jimmy.”

  “Hardly.” Margaret snorted. She looked around at the people. She could hear some chatting from other rooms. Janice was one of the very few who knew the secret of her proclivities. They roomed together for a time in college.

  Having too much fun with her frivolities and parties, not caring whom she married as long as they didn’t stifle her entertainments, Janice had dropped out and returned home. So far, marriage hadn’t lured Janice into more stability, though rumor spoke of both Janice and Mark leaving a long line of rejected suitors.

  Margaret said, “We’ll do lunch soon, and I’ll tell you all about what happened.”

  Janice studied her and seemed to suspect the story was not one for a house full of guests. “None of my guests will miss me—”

  Margaret shook her head. “No, we’ll find time to talk. When I leave, you both can walk me to the car, and I’ll introduce you to Finn.”

  Frowning, Mark said, “To your driver? Whatever for? It’s sufficient to know the man is okay.”

  “Do shut up, Mark.” Janice shook her head. Despite her family’s money, Janice didn’t hold to social expectations as the rest of her family, including Mark, who relied on social status to deem a person’s importance.

  Margaret wanted Janice to meet Fiona. She suspected Janice understood the underlying intricacies of her relationship and caring for Fiona. Other than the fact Mark was male, Margaret remembered why she’d not missed their time together. She had missed Janice, and a knot of regret snarled in her belly. She’d been wrong to relegate Janice to the haphazard phone call now and again.

  “In the meantime,” Margaret said, ignoring Mark’s comments, “let’s enjoy the wonderful extravaganza you’ve pulled together.” Having Mark around, though, arrogant as he was, could work in her favor. If spending time with him kept Eldon and Jimmy at bay, Margaret had no problem using him for her benefit.

  She just hoped Fiona would grasp the matter in the same vein.

  THE HOUR NEARED two o’clock in the morning. Fiona managed a light doze, but it did little to help her stay alert. Maybe some fresh air would be helpful. She pushed open the driver’s door and exited, leaning against the side facing the front of the house, pulling the hat brim down to shadow her eyes, even in the darkness. Couples and singles had been coming and going in waves all night, but now seemed to dwindle to a steady flow of folks leaving for the night—more like morning, she groused silently. Fiona was about ready to despair of getting any real sleep before dawn when she spotted Margaret stepping from the front door with a man and woman.

  She straightened, her gaze following Margaret’s progress toward their car. They seemed safe enough, and Margaret seemed happy, but Fiona couldn’t say the same for herself when she noted the man’s arm draped around Margaret’s waist. It’s not like someone like you can claim her, Fiona’s inner voice declared. Even when Margaret gave her hope they might somehow have a chance at a relationship, hope Margaret might truly go with her and Sunny to Colorado for a new life, Fiona had to admit she grasped at a fantasy. They were from two different worlds. Margaret’s was about to collide with Fiona’s reality.

  “Finn, I want you to meet some friends of mine.” Margaret latched on to the arm of the woman and leaned her head onto her shoulder. “This is Janice. We’ve been childhood friends, and went to college together for a time.”

  Janice extended a hand and demurred to batting eyelashes. “Finn, hmm, the pleasure is all mine, I’m sure.” Fiona shook the offered hand. “You’re quite handsome, aren’t you?” she asked, stepping closer and placing a possessive hand on Fiona’s chest.

  “Enough, Janice.” Margaret removed the hand on Fiona. “Leave him alone.”

  “Yes, do stop playing with the children, sister,” the man said.

  “You’re just jealous, Mark,” Janice said, her tone blasé, but her hungry gaze focused on Fiona. Fiona wanted to squirm under the uncomfortable scrutiny, but didn’t want Mark to note her discomfort. “There’s nothing childlike in Finn.” She whisked a gaze in Margaret’s direction. “Not that anyone cares, but I certainly approve. I must admit I’m a bit jealous, too, Meggie, knowing this gorgeous young man actually took a bullet for you.”

  Goodness, what had Margaret told them? Fiona wondered. Uncomfortable with Janice’s attention, Fiona cleared her throat. “Are you ready to go home, Miss Margaret?” She was in a hurry to leave the hot, from Janice, and cold, from Mark, responses of the Hartwell’s.

  “Yes, take the child home. I’m sure his nappy needs changing.” Mark snickered. “I’d say get him to bed, but Janice might offer to assist in that endeavor on your behalf.” He leaned in and kissed Margaret on the cheek—a little too long for Fiona’s comfort.

  “Don’t be so crass, Mark,” Margaret said tiredly.

  Mark shrugged drolly. “So he took a bullet, it’s his job, right? I’m certain the boy’s well paid for performing his duties. He’s the hired help, after all.”

  Nope, Fiona didn’t like this pompous ass one whit.

  Margaret stepped closer to Fiona, who opened the door to the back of the car. “Thank you for a wonderful party, Janice. I had a wonderful time.” When Margaret turned to Mark and smiled, Fiona stifled the urge to punch him in the kisser. “Don’t be a stranger, either of you.”

  What? Fiona had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from speaking the word aloud. Margaret slid into the car, and Fiona closed the door. Pinching the brim of her Fedora, Fiona nodded in Janice’s direction. “Good evening, Miss Janice.” Fiona pointedly ignored Mark, as she settled into the driver’s seat and started the car. Hired help was she? Well, take a little snubbing from servants, mister high-and-mighty-rich-guy.

  Fiona expected Margaret to call her on the bad manners, but she didn’t. They drove the short distance home in silence, and Fiona believed the matter dropped. Until they reached the house and Fiona pulled up in front. “Mark had no right to speak to you as he did, but I need him, Fiona.”

  “For what?” Fiona stared at Margaret in the rearview mirro
r. If she turned to look at her directly, and someone inside was watching, it would be obvious they were doing more than discussing employer to employee directions. “He’s an ass.”

  “Yes, and one who will convince Eldon Jimmy’s out of the running for spousal intentions, when I spend time with him. It’s just for a little while,” Margaret said, her voice soft.

  Pain flared in Fiona’s chest. “Fine. But if you still need me—”

  “Of course I need you. You’ll still be my driver.”

  The pain blazed hotter. “Margaret, I don’t know if can.”

  Margaret’s brow drew together in confusion. “Why not?”

  Didn’t she realize how difficult that would be for Fiona to watch Margaret with someone else? A man, no less. Mark already took liberties with Margaret’s person, physically with both kissing and waist holding. Maybe their relationship wasn’t the same for them both. Fiona heaved a heavy sigh. “Forget it, I’m out of line.”

  Shifting forward in the back seat, Margaret placed her gloved hand on Fiona’s shoulder, and she turned around, even as she suspected Margaret was about to remind her of her place, her position. “Believe me, honey, it won’t be any easier on me,” she said. Fiona realized Margaret understood her hesitation. “Mark’s safe insofar as a friend and the perfect cover for my true affections—you. Between Sunny and Mark, Eldon and Jimmy won’t be expecting it when we all run away.” Margaret shrugged. “Trust me when I say I intend Janice to be with us for each outing with Mark.”

  She had no right to question Margaret, but explaining herself made Fiona feel a bit reassured. Fiona squeezed her eyes, before she got out of the car, opened the door for Margaret, and waited until she entered the front door. She drove around to the back of the house and parked the car. The bright side of Margaret’s plan being Fiona wasn’t allowed in the establishments Margaret, and the Hartwell’s would be frequenting. She wouldn’t have to see Mark possibly get fresh, but lord help him if she caught him getting out of line.