Dating A Mob Boss (The Dating Series Book 2)

by Love, B. T.

  Dating A Mob Boss

  By B.T. Love

  Dating A Mob Boss

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2015 by B.T. Love

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No part of this material or artwork may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of the author.

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Table Of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  What Trent Saw

  One

  I stepped out of the airport and onto the busy sidewalk with a renewed sense of energy. Finally, I had arrived in New York, the place where dreams were made. I was determined to make something of myself, although I wasn’t quite sure what that something would be.

  My mom didn’t want me to go; in fact she begged me to stay. She was a little over-protective for my taste, especially since I was in my early thirties, but in reality I loved her for it. I always knew I would have a place to go back to if my new life completely fell to pieces here.

  I pulled my luggage behind me and stopped beside a taxi with an empty back seat. When I reached for the door handle an older-looking woman dressed in a navy blue business suit pushed past me and opened it herself, plopping down inside and shutting it with a loud thud.

  My brows furrowed. “Excuse me,” I said while tapping on the glass. “I was about to get in this cab.”

  She rolled down her window. “This is New York, honey. Ya snooze ya lose.” She gave me a smirk as the cab pulled away from the curb and sped off out of sight.

  “The nerve,” I huffed to myself. Just then another cab pulled into the empty spot. This time I acted quickly and jumped in before anyone else could steal it from me. “Hello,” I said to the driver as I buckled my seat belt.

  He eyed me in the rearview mirror. “Where to?”

  “Oh, um, Brooklyn.”

  “Where at in Brooklyn?”

  “Let me get you the address.” I leaned to the side and pulled the piece of paper I had written it on out of my pocket. “Here,” I said as I stuck it through the opening in the glass divider.

  He reached back and grabbed it from me, quickly read it over, and grunted as he returned it to my waiting hand. “You sure that’s the right place?”

  “Uh, yes. Why do you ask?”

  He grunted again and pulled the cab away from the curb. “You ain’t from around here, are ya?”

  “No, obviously.”

  “Well this place I’m taking ya to isn’t a good place for a pretty lady like yourself to be runnin’ around.”

  “And why is that?”

  “It’s a bad neighborhood.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s all I could afford.”

  His eyes lifted to the mirror. “You got a job lined up yet?”

  “No.”

  “No?” he huffed. “What do you mean, no? What did ya do just pick a random place on the map and decide to start a new life here? No, I know what happened. You watched too much television growin’ up and you thought you could come to New York and start a new wonderful life from nothin’, am I right?”

  Jeez, what was up with this guy? “No,” I replied quickly. “I’ve saved enough money to live on for about a month without a job. I don’t intend on being jobless for that long, though.”

  “Well I hope not, because it’s expensive to live here. I bet you’re going to be surprised at just how hard it is to survive.”

  For the first time since I left my old home I was depressed. Did I make the wrong decision coming here? Maybe I didn’t look into where I was living well enough. And maybe, just maybe, my mom was right to be worried about me.

  I spent the rest of the trip listening to my over-exuberant driver talk about the scenery around us in his heavy Brooklyn accent. He pointed out places I might like to visit and some good restaurants to eat at, as well as sprinkling in the occasional comment about my poor choice of neighborhood to reside in.

  After a while the cab slowed and we were driving through a residential area. The houses were mushed close together and were constructed mostly of brick, their red color faded from year after year of baking in the golden sun. But they were clean and appeared to be safe. Even the people walking past them were portrayed as model citizens.

  I smiled at the lovely sight. “This isn’t so bad. I don’t know what you were talking about being worried with me living here. It’s wonderful.”

  The driver scoffed. “This ain’t where you’ll be livin’, sweetheart.”

  He turned the corner and drove a few blocks down. My smile drifted away as one by one the red brick houses changed from not just faded, but to downright falling apart. He turned another corner, and then another, each street downgrading in appearance from the last.

  Finally he put on the brakes. “Home sweet home, doll.”

  I peered out the window at the tall rundown apartment building next to us. “I hope you’re joking.”

  “Not in the least.”

  “But this wasn’t what it looked like in the picture.”

  “Nothin’s ever what it looks like in the picture. I hope you don’t find your men that way.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and pulled out my cash, handing him what I owed him. “Thank you for the tour on the way here. I’ll be sure to check out some of the places you suggested.”

  He took the money and turned around to look me in the eyes. “Listen, you be careful out there. This is a tough neighborhood.”

  I smiled, not only because of his small display of kindness, but also because I hadn’t realized he had a mustache. “Thank you. I’ll be sure to keep my door locked at all times.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t forget the windows either.”

  I got out, bringing my suitcase along with me, and shut the door. As the cab pulled away I stared up at the tall ugly apartment in front of me. It was three stories high and was filled with old rickety windows that I was sure would let every ounce of cold air inside. There was a stoop outside the entrance of the building, it itself falling apart, the concrete steps crumbling in random places. To add insult to injury there was a very shady-looking character sitting at the top of it, smoking something from a clear pipe.

  “Well,” I shrugged, “here goes nothing.” I pulled my bag behind me and started up the steps. When I reached the top I stopped next to the thin-framed man. “Hello,” I said with unsureness, hoping that starting a conversation with him wasn’t a decision I would regret.

  He took the pipe away from his mouth and looked up at me, giving me a warm toothless smile. “Hello.”

  “I’m Amber. I just rented an apartment in this building. Do you live here?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  I smiled. “Yeah I was expecting something a little different.”

  He looked me up and down, not in a suggestive way, but as if he were gauging the type of person I was. “You don’t look like the type of person who typically lives in this neighborhood.”

  How in the world was I supposed to respond to that? Of course I wasn’t the type of person who
lived in this neighborhood. I bathed, for one. Looking at him I could see he was the type to reside in this part of town. He was probably in his early fifties and he had salt-and pepper-colored hair. He was thin as a rail and was missing his teeth. And of course, he was smoking crack right in front of me. But I obviously couldn’t say any of that. I didn’t want to get murdered on my first night in New York; that wouldn’t be any fun. So instead I replied with, “Well that’s why we don’t judge books by their covers, I guess.”

  “What’s a book?”

  I’m joking; he didn’t say that. But as much as I knew it was mean, I couldn’t help but think he would say something along those lines. It was then that I realized I was in fact judging a book by its cover. What a hypocrite I was.

  “Well, I’m Clyde,” he grumbled under his breath. “Welcome to the neighborhood.” He stuck his free hand up in my direction and waited for me to take it.

  Time stopped. The passing cars on the streets slowed to a halt; the passersby on the sidewalk stood in mid-motion. And this was all because his hand was in the air in front of me, waiting for me to touch it. All I could see was the black under his yellowed fingernails and the deep cracks in his leathered skin that just had to be crawling with who knew what kind of germs or diseases. My heartbeat quickened as I stuck my recently-sanitized hand out and laced it with his. He squeezed back gently and then let it go. The people on the sidewalk continued to walk; the cars continued their journeys. The world was moving again. I stuck my hand in my sweatshirt pocket and silently reminded myself to wash it as soon as I got in my new apartment.

  “Well,” I smiled, “it was nice to meet you. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.”

  “That you will.”

  I opened the entrance door and pulled my suitcase in behind me. Straight ahead on the wall was a sign that said the manager lived in apartment number one, which was right at the beginning of the hall. I stood in front of the door and knocked a few times.

  “Who is it?” a woman’s voice yelled out.

  “Uh, my name is Amber Johnsom. You approved me to rent a unit here; I believe I spoke with you on the phone.”

  “Amber Johnson?”

  “No, it’s Amber Johnsom.”

  She unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door the few inches the chain on the top would allow. “I rented to an Amber Johnson.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry, it’s actually Johnsom; people always think it’s Johnson.”

  She eyed me suspiciously from the crack in the door. A moment later she closed it and I could hear the chain slide open. “Come in.” I turned the handle and pushed the door open. “Shut the door; you’re letting all the heat out.”

  I did what she asked and found myself standing in her living room. The whole apartment seemed to be lined with army green shag carpet, and her furniture was very dated. There was an old TV in the corner playing some black and white movie I didn’t recognize. Even though the place looked like I stepped into an apartment from the seventies it seemed to be clean.

  The woman was now sitting at a small desk at the far end of the room with her back to me. I hadn’t even seen her entire face yet, but I could tell she was older. Her hair was gray and wiry, and it was pulled back into some sort of a bun.

  I cleared my throat. “Thank you for renting to me.”

  She chuckled under her breath. “Don’t thank me yet.” She turned around in her seat; now I could see her face entirely. I guessed her age to be seventy or so, and she was wearing a wisp of makeup, just enough to show people that she was still trying to keep up on her appearance.

  “Why do you say that?” I asked.

  “Have you seen this neighborhood?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah. But it can’t be that bad, right?”

  She puffed out a laugh of air. “Honey, it’s worse.” She turned back to her desk and pulled out a manila envelope from one of the drawers. “I’ll need you to fill out these papers and get them back to me; doesn’t have to be today but do it soon. And the rent is month to month and I’ll need the first month now.”

  “Oh, okay.” I bent down and zipped open my suitcase to search for my cash. Once I found it I thumbed through the bills for the entire first month’s rent amount. “Here you go,” I said, walking across the room to give it to her.

  She looked down at the cash in my hand and then up at my face. “Are you kidding me?”

  My eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

  “Honey I can’t take cash, I’ll be robbed before you even leave this room. It’s check or money order only.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, my checkbook is at the very bottom of my bag. If you give me a second I’ll fish it out.”

  She handed me the envelope. “No, don’t worry about it. Just pay me after you settle in. Something tells me you’re good for it.”

  “Thanks,” I smiled. “I’ll get it to you as soon as I unpack.”

  “That’s fine.” She stood up and grabbed a key from a basket on her desk. “You ready to see your new place?”

  “Yes; I’m very excited.”

  She laughed through her nose. “Follow me.” We stepped into the hallway and I waited for her to lock her door. “You’re going to be on the top floor. It’s a trek up there – our elevator is out of service – but the good thing is that everyone else’s heat will rise into your apartment and keep it warmer. That’s great for the winter but it’s a bitch in the summer.”

  I followed her down the hall and then up a couple of flights of stairs to the third floor. She huffed away the whole time to the point of me being worried about her; a lady her age shouldn’t be taking all those stairs. But maybe it was contributing to her in a positive way. She seemed to be healthy, after all.

  On the third floor I followed her down the hall. As we passed each door I could hear the activity behind it, ranging from blaring music to couples arguing. “They’re always at it,” she said of the raised voices.

  “Do I share a wall with them?” I asked, hoping I wouldn’t have to be subjected to hearing their arguments.

  “Nope.”

  “Well that’s good.”

  “Kinda.”

  “Kinda?”

  She pointed to the next door that we passed. “This is your neighbor. She’s a hooker.”

  My mouth dropped open. “A hooker?”

  “Got a problem with that?”

  We stopped in front of a door that I assumed was mine. “No, I guess not.”

  She looked me over and stuck the key in the door. “You’re a little naive, aren’t you?”

  “Naive? Why would you say that?”

  Her wrist turned to unlock the lock and she pushed the door open. “You must have come from an easy life. I’m looking at you right now and you look scared to death. I’m assuming you’ve never been around a place like this.”

  “Not really, to be honest.”

  “Well let me give you some advice: Put your cash in your bank and keep your door and windows locked at all times.”

  I nodded carefully and followed her into my new apartment. The floors had the same ugly green shag carpet as hers. It had a tiny kitchen with a leaky faucet and a loud running refrigerator. The walls were covered in old flowered wall paper and it was peeling away in various spots. Once again, it failed to look like the picture I had seen online.

  “Well, what do you think?” she asked.

  “Oh, uh, it’s great.”

  “You’re a good liar, honey; you’ll fit in good here.” She handed me the key. “Rent’s due on the first of every month like I said.”

  “You actually take checks from people that are, you know, drug addicts and stuff?”

  “Only until one bounces, then they can only pay me with money orders from then on out.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  She walked back over to the open door. “Listen, I’m well aware that this is a rough place. But I also don’t let a lot go on here. The prostitute next door knows if she gets too loud that I’ll kick her out, so don’t worry t
oo much about that. And drug dealing and using can only be done outside, not in my building. So hopefully that will help ease your mind a bit.”

  Ease my mind. Was she kidding? This place sounded horrible. I had obviously made a huge rookie mistake. But instead of saying that I just smiled. “Thank you.”

  She sighed heavily. “You have a small bedroom and bathroom back there as well. I’m not charging a security deposit for obvious reasons.”

  “Can I paint the walls?”

  “Honey you can do whatever you want to this place. I’m sure anything you do will be an upgrade.”

  “Okay. And when we spoke on the phone you said utilities were included, right?”

  “That’s right, and cable, too. Just get yourself a TV and you’ll be all set. Don’t get a nice one though or else you’ll be sorry.”

  “Because it’ll get stolen?”

  “That’s right. But not from anyone who lives in here. That’s why I tell everyone to lock their windows.”

  “You don’t think one of your tenants would steal?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. I don’t put up with people like that. You’ll be surprised soon enough; there are a lot of decent people here.”

  “I’m sure there are,” I lied.

  “Well, is there anything else you need to know before I leave?” she asked.

  “Oh, yes, I don’t believe I ever got your name.”

  “It’s Darcy.”

  “Well it’s nice to meet you, Darcy.”

  “You too.” She stepped out and pulled the door behind her until just her head was sticking into my apartment. “Lock this door as soon as I leave. You never know who’ll wander into this building unnoticed. We all watch out for each other so if you ever see anything suspicious going on give me a call.” Without waiting for an answer she shut the door the rest of the way.

  I went over and locked it and then turned around, pressing my back against its worn surface. Breathing out a heavy sigh I took in the scene of my new depressing little apartment. How on earth was I supposed to fix this place up if I had to worry about people stealing anything I brought in? I walked across the living room to where the bedroom was. It was small but was good enough for me. The bathroom was hideous with its army green toilet and matching sink and tub. Everything was so old. The upside was that I didn’t see any cockroaches. Well, not yet at least.