City in the Middle: Book Two in the Amber Milestone Series

by Colleen Green

  Bastard.

  Part of me wanted to slap him. The other part wanted him to come back, just so I could look at him.

  Chapter 5

  The next day, I arrived at the pub in time to talk to Henry before my shift.

  “Hey, Amber.” He glanced up at me then back to the computer screen.

  “I’m not sure how to say this…”

  He pushed his chair back, looking my way. “Okay, but keep it short.”

  Keeping our conversation about his family’s relationship with the mafia short would be a challenge. “I’ll try.” I took a deep breath. “Teresa mentioned the name Bugiardini. She told me to look it up, so I did. Do you know anything about the family who reserves the basement for poker parties?”

  “Dad said they get special treatment. I thought it sounded shady, but I really haven’t had the time to look into it. I’ve been busy with Dad and running the pub.”

  I felt bad bringing it up, given everything resting on his shoulders. Still, I needed to tell him. He shouldn’t be kept in the dark. “That name has connections to the mob.”

  He leaned back, slack-jawed, and his eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

  “Afraid so. Maybe Charles or your father can tell you more.”

  Henry closed his mouth and swallowed, sitting up straight. “Yeah, of course. It could be a touchy subject.” His eyes glazed over.

  It had to be horrible for him to find out information like this from someone outside his family. He should have heard it from them. “Sorry, but I felt like you should know.”

  “Thanks for telling me.” He stopped staring ahead and looked back at me.

  I made eye contact with him. “You’re welcome.”

  “I’ll look into it.”

  I didn’t want to end our conversation on a sour note. “On the bright side, I noticed a truck delivering beer. Looks like Charles came through.”

  “Yes.” He nodded as his straight lips turned upward. “Just in time for tonight’s holiday craziness. We actually ran out of beer late last night! Can you imagine an Irish pub without Guinness on St. Patrick’s Day?” He chuckled.

  I shook my head. “I don’t even want to try.”

  His laughter was music to my ears. He was perking up. “Me either.”

  I walked out of the office. Charles having the beer delivered within just a few days’ notice could mean that he had connections. Unfortunately, our on-time beer delivery might have been at the hands of the mafia.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  After several days of working, I was grateful for a day off. Fiona and I went to her friend’s dinner party in Brooklyn. Daisy and her coworker, Mercedes, were meeting us there.

  We walked up the steps of a row house. We’d stopped at a bakery on the way there, and I carried fresh rolls. Fiona rang the doorbell. While we waited for her friend, Dan, to answer the door, I admired the bay window. It would be the perfect spot to have a morning cup of coffee. I bet it’s spacious inside, probably bigger than our place. I missed the roomy home I had in California. Maybe someday I’ll have a place of my own again, if I can ever get comfortable enough in New York to call it home.

  Dan answered the door, thankfully interrupting my pity party in my head. “Hey, guys, come in.”

  “You remember Amber, my roommate,” Fiona said to him.

  “Of course.”

  “Thanks for having me over,” I said, stepping inside.

  “Everybody’s in the kitchen,” he said. “I can warm those rolls up in the oven.”

  “Thanks.” I handed them to him. We followed him past the living room, which contained the bay window that let in a lot of natural light. The room was twice the size of our sitting area. I heard the familiar voices of Fiona’s band members as we entered the dining room. The giant kitchen overlooked it. I could cook a feast in that kitchen. It was three times the size of ours. I hadn’t attempted to make anything of substance in ours, because it was just too small.

  We entered the kitchen. A handsome man, who looked like Johnny Depp, came over and embraced Fiona. She held him tightly, resting her head in the crook of his neck. I assumed he was Cam. Standing next to me, I noticed that Cam and I were the same height.

  “You look great, babe. Are these jeans new?” Cam asked.

  “Got them a few days ago.” She kissed him on the cheek.

  Cam twirled Fiona around in her distressed skinny jeans. “They fit you perfectly!”

  Dan waited till Fiona stopped spinning then put the rolls in the oven. Cam and Fiona stepped aside, clinging to each other.

  “Can I get you a drink?” a woman who I assumed was Dan’s wife asked me. “We have soda, red wine, and Guinness.”

  “Wine would be good. Thanks. I’m Amber, Fiona’s roommate.”

  She took a bottle of Merlot and poured some into a glass. “Dan mentioned you were coming.” She handed me the glass. “I’m Dan’s wife, Beth.” She had long blond hair and a tall, lean body like a runner, and she spoke without an Irish accent. Dan, who appeared to be past middle age, seemed slightly older than her.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” I took a sip of the wine.

  “Likewise.” She poured another glass of the Merlot and sipped it.

  “I heard Celtic Crescendo at the pub. They’re very good.”

  “The first time I heard them play, I waited until they took a break and flirted with Dan all night. At the end of the night, I asked him out, and years later, we’re still married.”

  Dan wrapped his arms around her. “She was persistent, but how could I resist?” His eyes went soft as he gazed at her with affection then planted a sweet, light kiss on her lips.

  “I couldn’t stop thinking about your accent.” She smirked, still holding onto him.

  It was nice to meet a romantic man in New York, instead of the creeps who rubbed me the wrong way at the pub. It did give me hope that one day I could find love in the city.

  Daisy and Mercedes arrived, and we gathered around the dining room table. Dan put the shepherd’s pie on a trivet in the center. The aroma of seasoned lamb made my mouth water. I couldn’t wait to dig in. The butter melted onto the warm rolls. They would be perfect for soaking up the gravy. At last, it was my turn to use the ladle to scoop a serving. Since it was a big casserole, I was able to take a hearty portion and still leave some behind.

  It was a delicious combination of seasoned meat and fresh vegetables. With each bite, the flavors complemented each other. It was true comfort food, and it was delicious.

  As a chef, I appreciated the effort Dan made in making dinner. Since I moved to the city, I hadn’t prepared a big homemade meal, and I missed cooking in a kitchen. The apartment was too small to comfortably make a huge amount of food.

  Even though I was stuffed, it was so scrumptious that I wanted more. “I could eat this all day, but I’d better stop.” I pushed the plate away. It would be easy to keep enjoying the flavors, but I didn’t want to get too full and become uncomfortable. “I’d love to get the recipe,” I said, looking at Dan. After all, maybe one day I’ll have a bigger kitchen, one that I wouldn’t be cramped in when fixing hearty meals.

  He finished chewing and wiped his mouth. “Sure.”

  The combination of drinking wine and enjoying a filling meal caused me to feel warm and fuzzy inside. I wanted to curl up and take a nap.

  Beth tilted the bottle to pour more wine into my glass, but I held my hand over it. “I shouldn’t.” She put it down. “One more, and I’ll fall asleep, for sure. This amazing food and Merlot makes me want to snooze.”

  “We can’t have that,” Fiona said. “You should stay awake to hear us play.”

  I nodded, trying to hold in a yawn.

  Everyone went down to the basement. The slow cadence of the pipes, accompanied by the violin strings and flute, created a rich melody of sorrowful longing. I curled up on the end of the couch. I would have closed my heavy eyes as my body sank into the cushions if someone wrapped a blanket around me. Daisy sat next to
me, Mercedes in the chair next to us. Cam drank his beer, sitting on the barstool and singing along with the band. He couldn’t keep his eyes off Fiona.

  Fiona came over after they finished a song and leaned toward me. “Mercedes is going to take your measurements before we leave. Henry told me your birthday is coming up. I’ll buy you an outfit from her store.”

  “Oh, Fiona.” I smiled, touched that she wanted to celebrate my birthday and buy me such a thoughtful gift. A dress that was made to my measurements would be a first for me, but not necessary. “That’s too much, really. I’d be happy just celebrating it with you.” I gave her a hug.

  “It’s too late.” She let go, smirking. “I’ve already given her money. It’s really a present from both Henry and me. We’ll go out on your birthday, and you can wear it.” Her eyes lit up. “I know you miss your family. I couldn’t help but hear you talking to them on the phone earlier this week and noticed how sad you were. You shouldn’t celebrate alone.”

  I was grateful to have such a good friend. “Thanks to you, I won’t.”

  She winked and then went back to play some more.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  A few days later, I was glad to have the day off. Since I had been working late at night, I hadn’t seen Fiona for days. She would be home soon, and I could catch up with her.

  I relaxed on the couch and watched television to kill time. Just as I got up to get something to drink, someone knocked on the door.

  I walked over and looked through the peephole. I saw Liam, the pub’s bartender. What is he doing here? I opened the door.

  “Is Fiona home?” he asked.

  “No, but she will be soon.” I backed away, giving him room to enter. “Would you like to come in and wait for her?”

  He shook his head and handed me an envelope. “Can you give this to her?”

  “Sure. Are you certain you don’t want to stay? She’ll be home any minute.”

  “Even if my daughter had answered the door, I wouldn’t have said a word. I would have handed her the invitation.” He sighed deeply then turned and left.

  Liam is Fiona’s father! I had no idea. I stood with the front door wide open, unable to move, and tried to absorb what just happened. Fiona never mentioned her father or mother in any of her letters. I assumed that meant they had passed away years ago. Why does he want to give his daughter an invitation if he isn’t on speaking terms with her? If they don’t speak to each other, why would Fiona go to a party of his?

  Shutting the door, I shook my head and wondered what her father had done to turn his daughter against him. It must be something horrible. I sat on the couch and put the envelope on the end table. Poor Fiona. What did that man do to you?

  A few minutes later, Fiona was home with a bag of groceries. After I helped her put them away, we sat on the couch.

  I took the envelope off the end table. “Your father stopped by while you were out. He wanted to make sure you got this,” I explained, handing it over. “I didn’t know Liam was your father until today.”

  She took it as she huffed. “Yeah, unfortunately he is.” It was the first time I saw her chipper demeanor turn sour. She opened the envelope and on the front of the card, it said, “You are invited!” She flipped it open. Sneering, she got up and tossed it in the trash.

  “Clearly, you’re not going. You must really not like him.”

  “My father and stepmother want me to attend their anniversary party. I want nothing to do with either of them. Long story.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean to stir up bad memories.” I also didn’t want to pry. Usually Fiona was an open book, but she seemed hesitant.

  She shrugged. “It’s not you. It was that damn card.” She looked at herself in the mirror next to the front door. She tousled the strands of her pixie cut by running her fingertips over the ends. Whenever I saw her come home she did that. But her carefree vibe and smile that usually could light up a room was replaced with disgust. Her lips thinned, and her stance stiffened. She sighed. “And my damn nose is just like his. I almost got all of my mother’s features except the one in the middle of my face.”

  I stood behind her. Looking at her in the mirror, I said, “You’re beautiful, Fiona, inside and out.” I couldn’t stand to watch her look at her reflection while scowling. It was painful because I could relate to her anger toward her father. Hating a parent was disturbing because we were supposed to love them, but I’d never been able to figure out how I could love my father, who left my family when I was a child. “I understand how it feels to be let down by your father.”

  She turned around and relaxed her posture.

  “I’m here for you, if you ever want to talk about it.”

  She mustered a faint smile. “I wish I could, but it would be like reliving it.” She looked down. “I just can’t.”

  “I understand. Just know that if you change your mind”—Fiona looked up at me—“I’m here for you.”

  She nodded, gave me a quick hug, and headed toward the bathroom. Whatever awful event she endured must have been too painful to talk about. Yet, I worried about her holding all that emotional baggage inside. It couldn’t be healthy. I hoped one day she would talk about it.

  Chapter 6

  Iwas still adjusting to the frantic pace of being a chef in a Manhattan pub. As Henry had promised when he hired me, I only had to waitress for the first few weeks. Then, I started my new position in the kitchen. Since my friends were meeting me at the pub that night, I was getting a much-appreciated break to speak with them while eating dinner.

  Daisy, Darlene, and I sat in the basement. We had the place to ourselves, since it was already reserved, under the name Bugiardini, for a poker party.

  The mafia making deals while playing cards at the pub didn’t sit well with me. It wasn’t my restaurant, though, so I couldn’t do anything about it. I didn’t understand why Henry’s father would associate with criminals. Was it because they gave him a substantial amount of money in exchange for reserving the basement? Did Henry’s father owe them? Why didn’t they play at one of the guy’s houses? Were they doing more than just playing cards?

  Daisy laughed with Darlene, interrupting my thoughts. Darlene took another bite of my newest creation, an open-faced Rueben sandwich on an English muffin. “So good,” she said.

  “Yeah, this should definitely go on the menu,” Daisy suggested before taking a sip of her drink.

  “I’ll mention it to Henry.”

  Daisy wiped her mouth with a napkin then patted my hand. “I’m glad we could meet today. In fact, I was wondering if you’d like to have lunch with me sometime.”

  I made plans to meet Daisy for lunch. After a quick hug, she went upstairs to leave and go back to work.

  Darlene took a picture out of her wallet. “This is for you.”

  I took the photo and saw Darlene holding an adorable baby. Standing behind her was a man with his hand on her shoulder.

  “Thanks! What a beautiful family.”

  “Keith and I got married two years ago. I’m sorry you and I lost touch over the years. You should have been at the wedding.”

  “Well, I’m here now.” I gave her a side hug.

  “Ever since Zach was born, I haven’t had as much time to spend with Daisy. It was nice to see both of you. I was hoping she’d get a different job working in the fashion world,” Darlene said.

  I finished chewing. “Why? She seems to be doing well.”

  “When she got that job, she said it would be just for a while to get experience. Now, I think it’s turned into more than that.”

  Charles came downstairs with a bag of napkins. “Amber, we need to start getting this room ready for the game.”

  “I better get back to work.” I stood. “I can check in on Daisy from time to time for you, if you’d like.”

  “That would be great.” Darlene got up. “I’ll call you later.”

  Charles put the napkins down. He went into a back room and pushed an octagon poker table out into
the main room.

  “I’ll help.” I pulled the table toward the center of the room. “Does this group reserve the basement a lot?”

  Walking backward, he guided us. “Occasionally. They’ve known my father for years. They’re loyal customers.”

  He took out a bag of pretzels and started filling bowls. I took the napkins out of the package. They were twice as thick as the ones we used upstairs. Teresa came downstairs and walked to the basement bathroom with plush towels and fancy soap.

  Charles went back upstairs. When he returned, he put two bottles of top-shelf whiskey on the bar. “Amber, set up glasses around the table. I have to go back upstairs. Teresa will help you finish.”

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Later, I cooked the last food order for the night. The kitchen was closing, but the bar would remain open. I placed the order on the counter for the waitress to pick up. It felt good to stand still for a moment after the busy night. I had a clear view of the bar and the front door. The brute who had manhandled me on my first day at Lucky’s came into the pub with Alberto Bugiardini.

  Liam, the bartender, stopped drying a glass with a cloth while looking their way. He kept a close eye on them. Alberto and the brute walked past a group of laughing men at the bar.

  Alberto and his friend sat across from Liam. I didn’t envy Liam, who would have to serve these jerks.

  Alberto, with his forearms leaning on the bar and his hands in tight fists, held eye contact as he talked to Liam.

  Liam didn’t move a muscle as he listened. He breathed deeply, his chest rising and falling slowly. He closed his mouth and swallowed. Backing up, he reached underneath the bar. Alberto locked his eyes on him as Liam handed him a folded-over newspaper. Alberto tucked it into his jacket while speaking.

  Liam served him a double Jameson, neat. Alberto threw back the drink, nearly finishing it in one swig. He slammed it down and stood up. He leaned over, whispering to Liam. Liam flinched as Alberto gripped his shoulder. The mobster took a step closer to him while putting his free hand on Liam’s other shoulder. Alberto’s nose nearly touched Liam’s as he spoke through his clenched jaw. He finally released his grip on the bartender then looked at Charles, who walked toward them with a velvet rope in his hand.