Dating A Mob Boss (The Dating Series Book 2)

by Love, B. T.

  Unable to stare at his heartbroken face any longer, I flipped around and rushed out of his wildly successful club, not daring to look back.

  Eight

  I cried in the back seat of the cab the whole way home. What just happened? Did we break up? Were we even together? I was so confused. And I was also completely heartbroken. Trent and I had a really good thing going between us. Our chemistry was great; we had wonderful phone conversations filled with laughter. We were honestly the perfect match. There was just too much uncertainty about other things in Trent’s life that clouded my feelings when it came to having a relationship with him.

  When the cab dropped me off I noticed Clyde was sitting on his usual spot at the top of the stoop. “Is that you Amber? Why you out so late?”

  “I was at Trent’s club,” I sniffled as I trudged up the stairs.

  He stood up next to me. “Well, why are you crying?”

  “Because I think I broke up with him.”

  “With Mr. Falco? Wow, you sure do have some balls.”

  “Yeah, that was one thing he loved about me.”

  “I’m sure it was.”

  I hugged myself to try and ward off the cold. “Well, I better get inside.”

  “You, uh, want some company? Maybe we can do something to take your mind off how your night went. Maybe, maybe we can paint. You want to paint your apartment?”

  “Right now?” I smiled through my tears.

  “Sure, why not? We can even drink coffee while we’re at it.”

  “You know, coffee was something I was already planning on making when I got home. I’d love to split a pot with you.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  Clyde followed me upstairs to my apartment. When I unlocked the door and pushed it open I stood back and took in the sight of the magnificent-looking floor. “All I see when I look at this wood is Trent on his knees working hard to sand out the imperfections.” I walked in and went straight to the coffee pot while Clyde shut and locked my door. “And all I think about is Trent when I look at that couch over there.”

  “Why is that?”

  “He bought it for me.”

  He stood back and took in the sight of the poor-looking piece of furniture. “Trent bought you that?”

  “Yeah. He wanted to buy me something new but I wouldn’t let him. I figured I would re-cover it with blue . . . Oh damn!”

  “What?” Clyde asked, spinning around to see what was wrong.

  “Ugh, I just bought a bunch of fabric today to reupholster my couch with. Trent picked me up when I had it with me but I took a cab home so the bags are still in his car.”

  “Well I’m sure he’ll enjoy that excuse to come over and see you.”

  “I doubt we’ll be seeing each other soon. Maybe I can just pick up more next weekend.”

  Clyde went over to the paint and knelt down to open the can. “Why don’t you just ask him bring it to you?”

  “Because I’m not sure if I want to see him.”

  “Why not?”

  I pondered the question while I readied the coffee pot. “Because I want him too much.”

  “Then why did you break up with him?”

  I turned around and leaned against the counter. “Hey Clyde,” I said, ignoring his question, “you work for Trent, right?”

  “Technically, yes.” He poured some paint into a tray and wiped away the drips that were running down the can with an angled brush. “I work under him. Like, way way under him.”

  “So you couldn’t really judge for his character then, huh?”

  “Not really. Why?”

  “I don’t know. I like to think I’m not afraid of him but I think deep down I am. I mean, I was told people who messed with his family have disappeared. Shouldn’t I be deathly afraid to be around people like that?”

  “I doubt Trent has killed anyone,” he chuckled. “This isn’t the seventies anymore.”

  “See, that’s exactly how I feel. The mob no longer exists.”

  “Well, that’s not really the case,” he corrected me as he grabbed a roller and dunked it in the pan of paint. “The mob still exists, they just aren’t like they were back then. Some of the old guys are though, like Trent’s grandfather. I wouldn’t want to cross that guy; he has way too much blood on his hands.”

  “Hmm. Then maybe it’s good that it didn’t work out between us. I wouldn’t want to get in the middle of those kinds of situations.”

  “Well there is a flip side to dating someone in the mob though.”

  “And what is that?”

  “A mob woman is respected and very well taken care of. No one messes with her or else they’ll be in for some trouble. If you were to be with Trent then he would make sure you were safe.”

  “Yeah, but who will keep me safe from him?”

  Clyde shrugged. “Me?” He smiled wide, bearing his horrible half-missing teeth to me.

  I couldn’t help but smile back. “You would protect me Clyde, wouldn’t you?”

  “Well I’m no match for those guys but I sure as hell would try.”

  “That’s all that matters to me.”

  We spent the rest of the night drinking coffee and painting my entire apartment. Heck, I wasn’t even tired. I was being driven by caffeine and uplifting conversation with my good buddy by my side, even forgetting about Trent for long moments at a time as I learned more about Clyde and his life story. I needed it; I needed to clear my mind of that man. God knows almost everything about my house reminded me of him, and work too to think of it.

  I threw my paintbrush in the empty can when the orange glow of the morning sun peeked its head up and welcomed us to Monday morning. We stood back and admired the work like two proud parents greeting a newborn baby after a long and exhaustive labor.

  “Looks good,” Clyde said.

  “I agree. Thank you, Clyde. And I mean for everything.”

  “You’re welcome.” He dropped his hands from his hips and went over to my door. “If this is worth anything, Trent’s been talking about you all over town. People are beginning to know who you are and already know to leave you alone. That right there is a protection in itself. I wouldn’t be too afraid to open your windows from now on.”

  I nodded with a down-turned smile. When he shut the door behind him I turned back to the windows. It was true that being involved with Trent also meant protection. And even though I didn’t know how long it would last, I was marked by the community as someone to leave alone. So for the first time since I’d moved into my apartment I opened my windows and let in the crisp air. I finally felt safe.

  * * *

  “That big Stevie guy is asking for ya,” Natalie said as she plunged a pile of plates in the sink. “He’s back to treating me like crap; his nice attitude change sure didn’t last long.”

  “Ugh,” I moaned. “I’m so dang tired, do I really have to come to everyone’s beck and call today? I mean, since when did it get to be commonplace to request me personally for stuff?”

  “Well he’s pissed so ya better go make him happy.”

  “Why? He’s not Trent,” I joked.

  “No, but he’s in business with Trent so to my father that’s just as important.”

  “That guy wouldn’t even have a business if it weren’t for Trent. Although, I have no damn clue what that business is. Trent keeps everything from me because apparently I can’t be trusted.”

  “Jeez, ya sure woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” she hassled me.

  “No I didn’t; I didn’t even go to bed at all last night, remember?”

  “Well ya should have, ‘cause now we all have to deal with your bad attitude. Now go out there and talk to Stevie and make him treat me better. Please.”

  “Ugh, fine.” I stomped out of the kitchen and composed myself a little better as I approached his table. “Hello, Stevie. You asked for me?”

  “Yeah, Amber. What the hell is wrong with ya?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, bring
ing my hands to my hips.

  “I thought we had a deal. I mean I just talked to you about how the way you treat Trent affects our business relationship. Don’t you remember that?”

  “Yeah, Stevie, I do. But I don’t have to treat Trent any which way just to be sure he treats you good. I can’t control Trent, you know.”

  “But you’re wrong, you can control him. You have immense power over that man.”

  I shook my head in protest. “No, I don’t. Now why don’t you tell me what the hell this is all about?”

  He picked his cloth napkin up from the table and patted the beads of sweat that were forming on his shiny forehead. “I had to handle some business with Trent this morning. He was in a rotten mood; he wouldn’t work with me on anything. I can only assume you have something to do with that.”

  “Don’t blame me for your bad dealings with Trent,” I scoffed. “Maybe he’s just tired of you and your attitude.”

  He stared at me for a long second and slowly drummed his fingers on the table. “Listen, nobody messes with Trent Falco, okay? And that includes you. So do us men a favor and put a little more makeup on that tired face of yours and go make that man happy. Understand?”

  My jaw just about hit the floor. “Excuse me? You have no right to talk to me that way.”

  “If you want your fellow employees to be treated better by me then you’ll do as I say.”

  “You listen to me,” I huffed, pointing an angry finger at him. “I didn’t ask to be in the middle of this Falco family crap. And I’m not going to treat Trent a certain way just to keep you happy. In fact, Trent’s going to hear about this from me personally, and I don’t think he’ll be too thrilled about how you’re speaking to me.”

  “If you tell Trent then I’ll tell Vin I’m taking my business elsewhere. I bring that man a lot of customers; I doubt he’ll be happy with me advising them to eat at a different restaurant.”

  “You’re pathetic,” I said as I flipped around and walked angrily back to the kitchen to find my purse.

  Vin was quickly at my side, naturally. “Hey are ya pissin’ off the customers again?”

  “God, Vin, just don’t worry about it okay? You’ll know when there’s a problem with your customers.”

  “Ya better be right,” he said as he wandered off.

  I pulled my phone out of my purse and dialed Trent’s number. I was nervous just hearing the ring that would bring me to his smooth voice. Secretly I was happy I had a good reason to call him.

  “Hey,” he answered on the second ring, his voice hopeful. “I didn’t expect to hear from you.”

  My body swooned just hearing him in my ear. “Um, hey. We have a situation with Stevie down here at the restaurant.”

  “Who, Stevie Zamboni?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s that piece of crap doin’ now?”

  “Well, he said you two had a meeting earlier today and that you were in a bad mood. He blamed it on me.”

  “He blamed it on you?”

  “Yeah. He told me yesterday when he was here that when you are having relationship problems you take it out on the men you’re in business with.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yeah. Then he told me today that I needed to do the men you’re in business with a favor and put more makeup on and go make you happy.”

  The line was silent. After a few moments he cleared his throat. “I see. Well,” he said calmly, “nobody talks to you like that Amber. Do you hear me? Nobody.”

  “Yeah, Trent. I know. But, he also said if I told you about this that he would take a lot of business away from the restaurant.”

  “So he threatened you . . .” His words were a statement, not a question.

  “Yes. And Vin, technically.”

  “Hmm. Well thanks for telling me. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Thanks. I knew you would.”

  An awkward silence hung on the line between us. I didn’t want to hang up and neither did he.

  “I didn’t get an ounce of sleep last night,” he admitted. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, thinking about us.”

  “Me either. I stayed up the whole night painting my apartment with Clyde.”

  “Oh yeah? How’d it turn out?” His voice was so sweet and genuine as he asked.

  “It turned out good. It really makes the room brighter.”

  “Yeah, I bet. You left your fabric in my car by the way.”

  “I know, I’m sorry. I’ll just go down and buy some more.”

  “Why would you go and do a thing like that? I can bring it to you. That is unless you really want to stay away from me that badly.”

  “Trent,” I sighed. “No, I don’t want to stay away from you. I miss you, actually. But I’m still so confused about what to do with us. I mean, look at what I’m dealing with here. I didn’t sign up to be threatened at work by some fat guy in a special-ordered suit.”

  “I know, I know. But I would really like to see you. Can I come over tonight maybe? I’ll bring your fabric.”

  I thought about it for a good long second and decided that I didn’t want anything more than to lay eyes on that man, as well as to have a nice genuine conversation with him. “Okay,” I agreed willingly. “Come by around seven. I’ll even feed you if you want.”

  “Feed me? Sounds like a wonderful evening.” I could hear his smile in his words.

  “Okay then. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Okay. Bye.”

  When I hung up I couldn’t deny the giddy feeling I had about seeing him that night. I was so pathetic. I mean, couldn’t I stand my ground when it came to my feelings with that guy?

  I was waiting on one of my other tables when I heard Stevie answer his phone. “Mr. Falco! How can I help you today? You change your mind about the deal we made earlier?” He waited and listened to what Trent was telling him on the other line. “But . . . Yes, but it was . . . Yes, I know.” His fearful eyes cut over at me. “I mean, I was just kiddin’ around; she knows that . . . Yes, Sir, I know she doesn’t need to wear anymore makeup.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh; of course Trent would come to my rescue on that comment.

  “Yes, I’m sorry, Sir,” he continued to apologize. “It won’t happen again. Yeah, I know what will happen. I appreciate you working with me on this. Okay. Bye now.” He hung up and motioned for me to come to the table.

  “Yes?” I said, crossing my arms with attitude.

  “As it turns out, you’re more of a tough broad than I thought. I like that, and so does Trent for some reason.” He wiped his head once again with his napkin. “Thanks to you I got a good talkin’ to but Trent’s such a nice guy at heart that he’s lettin’ me off easy. So anyway, he told me I need to apologize. So I’m sorry.”

  “Are you really sorry?” I asked, amused that this big man was so wimpy when it came to my almost-boyfriend.

  His face tightened. “Yes. I am.”

  I chuckled under my breath and dropped my arms to my sides. “Listen, I know you’re not really sorry and that’s fine with me. But just give me a break, okay? And my fellow employees. If you do that I won’t tell Trent how insincere your apology was.”

  He thought about it for a moment and then gave me a single nod. “Agreed.”

  * * *

  He knocked on my door. I ran my fingers through my hair and smoothed over my fly-aways before answering. When I opened it I was pleased to see him wearing jeans and a T-shirt; it made him seem more normal. In one hand he held my bags of fabric, in the other a bouquet of exquisite purple roses.

  “Hi,” he finally said, his eyes hopeful and happy.

  “Hi. Come in.”

  He stepped inside and held up the bags. “There’s something else for you in here.”

  “You didn’t have to get me anything,” I said with a smile as I took them from him. “And thank you for the beautiful roses.”

  “Oh, these? These aren’t for you; Clyde got them for me.”

  “Go
od one,” I laughed.

  “The guy’s so obsessed with me you know,” he continued the joke as he sat them down on my kitchen counter.

  “Yeah, everyone is.”

  “Even you?”

  I turned and faced him. “Starting up with this so soon, huh?”

  “Hey,” he shrugged, “you can’t blame a guy for trying, right?”

  “I guess not.”

  I sat the bags down and dug through the fabric for whatever he got me. Once I found it I pulled it out and held it up in front of me. “Coffee?”

  “Yeah. Good expensive coffee. The stuff you drink isn’t that good.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Well I like my coffee.”

  “That’s because you haven’t tried that stuff yet,” he said, pointing to the bag. “Sometimes you have to try somethin’ new before you realize you can’t live without it.”

  “Is there a double meaning implied there?”

  “What possible double meaning could be implied with that statement?” His mouth twitched with a subtle smile.

  I smirked and looked back down at the bag. “Well I guess I’ll make us some now then.”

  “I even ground it for you at home first because I wasn’t sure if you had a grinder or not.”

  “That was a good call.” I poured the water and grounds in the coffee pot and then picked the roses up from the counter. “Thank you again for these. They’re lovely.”

  “Lovely roses for a lovely lady.”

  I stuck my nose in one of the silky buds and smiled. “And purple, too.”

  “You do like purple.”

  “I’ll have to find something to put them in.” I thought for a second and then spun around, opening my refrigerator door. “You want a pickle?” I asked from inside the fridge.

  “Not necessarily,” he laughed with curiosity. “Why?”

  I pulled an almost empty jar of pickles out and sat it on the counter. “There’s one left.”

  “Yeah? So?”

  “Well I need a vase for the roses.”

  He cocked his head to the side, a handsome grin taking over his face. “You’re going to use a pickle jar for a vase?”