Suds and Sam

by Stella Marie Alden

  I stop by the pizza parlor and grab a two dollar bowl of minestrone.

  “See ya, Friday.” Pete throws in three huge slices of Italian bread.

  “Sure thing.” I’ll toast the bread in the morning and add some peanut butter before heading out for work.

  Happy things are working out, I whistle as I make my way home to my new apartment.

  “Hey Joey.” I wave into his kitchen and throw a kiss at his baby covered in red sauce, sitting in her high chair.

  She has this wave where she opens and closes her little fist which is currently wrapped in spaghetti.

  Joey turns, his white t-shirt now more like modern art. “Petey called. He wasn’t too happy with you putting him down for the week after next.”

  “I just saw him. Chill out. He’s fine. Once I find Chloe, I’ll have more free time.”

  He looks around for a pen and paper and finds the former but not the latter. “Stick out your hand.”

  He writes on my freakin’ arm. “The address is in Bayonne where his ex, lives. Vinny stopped by earlier and mentioned he wanted to help you out.

  I grumble and hold my arm with the blue sharpie up to my face. “Jeesh. You ever hear of email?”

  “I ordered a new keyboard. Third one this week. The kid poured her juice down it… twice.”

  Kimmy giggles, pats her tray and I jump back, barely avoiding the explosion of red sauce.

  “Thanks. Catch you later. Ah, Can I borrow your car?”

  “Can you babysit Friday night?”

  “If I’m not still chasing the damn cat, sure.”

  He digs into his jeans and tosses me his keys. “Tanks. I need to get outta here and I don’t trust Ma. She gives the kid so much sugar, the baby bounces off the wall for days.”

  Laughing, I visualize his Mom, Kimmy, and some famous cupcakes. Then, I head up two flights of stairs to my room where I shower and dress in black jeans, black cap, and a black t-shirt.

  It’s still early so I watch some Netflix until the sun goes down.

  As I make my way past Joey’s apartment, I think of his cute little girl and get socked in the gut with a pang of regret. What a waste. I spent seven years with Will. By the time I get my private eye business up and running, I’ll be forty. Who am I kidding? I’ll probably be old and gray before I have enough to take care of a child. I can barely feed myself.

  Determined to change my sorry state of affairs, I exit my uncle’s house and moan at how two assholes parked on either side of his old gold Impala. I got exactly an inch and a half to get out.

  Oh well, that’s why God made bumpers.

  I back up, spin the wheel, and hope I don’t do too much damage. After about thirty minutes, I’ve managed to escape the parking place.

  Google maps takes me onto the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway and into the Lincoln Tunnel. I exit into a neighborhood similar to mine. Each house has a wrought iron fence around a miniature front lawn. Five cement steps lead from a driveway to the front door. Some garage doors are still in use, some have been closed in for more living space.

  Over the years, people have covered the original brick houses with stucco and siding but the sameness is still there.

  Parking is impossible so I pull into the only open spot near a hydrant, turn off my lights, and watch.

  Frankie’s ex-wife must be watching TV because the light flickers behind the curtained picture window over the driveway.

  After about an hour, I grow sleepy. What if Chloe is an indoor cat? Will I have to break in to free her? Shit. There’s another set of skills I don’t have.

  I open my notes app on my phone and add it to my ever-growing list.

  Suddenly, the back door of the car opens, I turn, grab my gun, and point at…

  “Suds?” My weapon lowers in my shaking hand.

  “Jesus H. Christ. Y’all almost shot me.” With his jaw dropped and eyes wide, he slides into the back seat.

  “What the hell are you doing here? I could’ve killed you! You shouldn’t sneak up on someone like that.”

  “Sneak up? Sugar, I strolled on up, whistling. I figured you couldn’t miss me.”

  “Well I wasn’t looking in my rear view, I was watching the house.”

  “Admit it, you were sleeping.” He gives me a grin and a wink.

  Damn, the man is infuriating. “No. I was watching the… oh shit.”

  I dash out at the sight of a huge yellow cat squeezing through a tiny door more made for a kitten.

  The cat’s eyes glow in the dark, catching the street light. Silently we stare each other down, gunfighters in the OK Corral.

  I brought some fresh fish from Keyfoods. I take a small smelly piece, place it on the ground and back up.

  Suds whispers. “How you going to grab him?”

  “Scruff of the neck.”

  “What if he scratches?”

  I hadn’t thought of that so I take off my jacket. “I’ll throw this over him.”

  He nods. “Good thinking.”

  The cat hears us talking, blinks, then scampers off down the street.

  “Shit. Follow that cat.”

  Chapter 7

  Suds

  Her pretty little ass moves as she bolts down the street after the yellow tabby. There’s no way she’s going to catch it tonight but it’ll be fun to watch. Besides, this neighborhood isn’t the best in daylight and gets worse as the night progresses.

  Anytime past midnight, gang members begin to prowl. I doubt they know who her Uncle Vinny is and even if they do, they’re probably too young and stupid to care.

  She surprised me by how quick her gun had come out and pointed between my eyes. Unlike I first suspected, she’s trained. How, I have no idea but I’ll get it out of her.

  I will know everything there is to know about Samantha Russo. She’s gotten under my skin and that never happens. I either need to fuck her out of my system, or God help me, figure out how to keep her in my life forever.

  Sweat drips down my sides at the thought.

  The cat stops at the corner and I swear to God it smiles as it gives her time to catch up. Sam throws another piece of fish, it sniffs, then grabs it and runs off. It squeezes under a fence between two buildings, and he's gone.

  “Psst. Psst. Kitty, kitty.” Sam puts more fish down where our suspect was last seen.

  When the suspect refuses to appear, she puts more in front of the kitty door. “Maybe she’ll stop long enough for us to grab her.”

  We head back to the car and she sighs and plops down in the driver’s seat. “I guess we just have to wait for her to return.”

  “You ever have a cat?” I ask.

  “No. Why?”

  “You do know he could be out all night?”

  “She. And her name is Chloe. I don’t think she’s that kind of girl. Frankie said she’s the quiet type who likes to cuddle up on the couch.”

  “Maybe she’s sowing some wild oats.” I grin and poke her in the arm.

  “Perhaps. Do you figure she found a boyfriend? Someone a little dangerous? Too sexy for his own good?”

  I catch her gaze, the centers growing dark. “Who we talkin’ about darlin’?”

  “Chloe, of course.” She takes her eyes off my lips and pretends to focus outside.

  Electricity snaps inside the car as thunder rumbles in the distance. Heat lightning dances in the sky, lighting her up, every few seconds.

  Hell, I want this woman and for the life of me, can’t figure out why. While we wait in silence, her breath hitches when I slide my hand over hers. She doesn’t pull back, though. A good sign.

  We already slept together once. What’s the big deal to keep it going? I want to ask but fear scaring her away. No doubt, her boyfriend of seven years did a number on her. When she asked, I was more than happy to be her rebound sex but I never figured on this, whatever this is.

  The rumbling overhead grows louder and the sky fills in. Unlike out in the country, Manhattan lights reflect into the sky and it never reall
y gets dark.

  She turns with fuck-me eyes and bites her lower lip. “You should go. I’ll be fine.”

  “Why’re you fighting this thing we got going on between us?” Needing to touch her, I tuck a lock of hair behind an ear.

  As a smattering of rain splatters the windshield, she jumps at a crack of thunder and studies my face, as if she can find the answer there.

  “It’s too soon.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  “It may be some time.”

  “Don’t care.”

  “I, ah, have a few trust issues.”

  “So do I.”

  “I have to date guys my uncle suggests or lose my apartment.” She shoots a hand over her mouth. “Shit. I should not have said that.”

  “Come again?”

  “Can you pretend you didn’t hear it?”

  She squeaks. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. Vinny insists on the same for Rose and Mia. We agree, every so often, to go out with some guy he recommends. The men he chooses wouldn’t dare to try anything. Uncle Vinny would cut their balls off. They’re men, mostly older, mostly Italians, mostly well-to-do…”

  “Mostly mobsters?”

  I shrug. “No doubt.”

  “What about Pete?”

  “He’s owns a late night pizza parlor. I got no idea what goes on after hours but it’s probably not legal.”

  I take a deep breath, about to lose my ever-loving mind. “You can’t mess with men this way, as if you’re a teenager again. You’re past thirty and any guy with you is going to want more.”

  She eyes me shaking her head, no. “No, they won’t. I don’t have that kind of sex appeal.”

  Her ex messed with her head worse than I first thought. “You got to be kidding me. You’re fucking beautiful.”

  “I wasn’t fishing for compli… shit! There he, I mean she, is. Go, go, go.” She jumps out of the car while the cat pads up the stairs.

  It stops at the top, meows at Sam, blinks, then grabs the fish and dashes through the tiny door.

  “Fuck. I guess that’s it.” Totally avoiding our conversation, she heads back to the car.

  I stop her from opening her door and press my need into her lower half as I kiss her soundly. Hell, how can she not know what she does to me?

  We both pant when our lips part. I could kiss her again until she melts and opens her legs for me but I want more. I’ll be damned if I know what it is but it isn’t just sexual conquest.

  I clear my throat and back away. “You can drop me off at the ‘L’ train.”

  “It’s closed for repairs but I can take you home.” She smiles all sexy-like as we get in the car and I cover her hand.

  “I could stay with you.” My breath hitches because she considers it for a moment.

  Then, she shakes her head, no. “Joey is a light sleeper.”

  “Who the fuck is Joey?” My head spins. How many guys has she got?

  She laughs at my frustration. “He’s my cousin and lives on the ground floor. He’s part house-husband and part guard dog. The stairway to my room goes past his kitchen door which is open at all times.”

  “And how old are you?” My mouth drops open at her lack of privacy.

  “My family is a little old-fashioned, okay? And because I’m paying only a pittance to rent out a room, I got very little say in it until I get back on my feet.”

  I give her a wicked grin. “That’s alright, y’all can stay at my place.”

  “I would, but I have to get up early. I have another case.”

  She’s lying but I won’t push. We have a connection she can’t deny. I only need to give her some space.

  As we go over the Triborough Bridge, the lights flicker off her beautiful face and I want her more than I’ve ever wanted any woman.

  “You can drop me off there.” I point to my building in the Bushwick section of Brooklyn.

  “Will do.” After she pulls over and stops, I kiss her until she’s clutching my shoulders and whimpering.

  “You could come up. The invitation is still open.” My eyes penetrate hers, filled with dark desire.

  “I can’t.” Her body says yes even as her mouth argues.

  Ah well, some things are best if left to simmer.

  I lean over and kiss her one more time. “So, cat chasing tomorrow night?”

  “You honestly want to?”

  I nod, slamming the door as I exit her old Impala. On second thought, I knock on her driver’s side window which she rolls down.

  “What?”

  “Bring a cat carrier.”

  “Copy that.” She grins and roars on down the street, smoke pouring out the tailpipe, burning oil.

  Chapter 8

  Sam

  Holy shit. I can’t keep kissing Sebastian Sutcliff, not if I want Slate to hire me full time. As I drive back to my apartment, the cat disaster reminds me of what a failure I’ve become.

  Back in Bensonhurst, I pull into the small driveway, turn the key off, and my cousin’s car chokes for a few minutes before giving up the ghost. I probably woke the whole damn neighborhood.

  I kick off my sneakers, pad up the stairs, and moan at the bright red display on the microwave telling me, if I’m lucky, I may get four hours of sleep.

  Wonderful. I cross the small living room, crack open my door, and fall into bed, fully clothed. I blame his last heated kiss and too much caffeine for my vivid dreams of rebound sex.

  In it, Suds takes the lead and I let him. In DC, we’d practically torn each other’s clothes off. We’d fucked hard and fast until dawn.

  He’d touched every inch of me, told me how beautiful I was, and made the hurt of betrayal sting less. In the morning, I knew what we had wasn’t going to last but I’m good with that.

  As the old song goes, I’m never going to fall in love again. I’m a modern woman, and as such, am quite capable of living on my own. I don’t need a man holding me back from my full potential, living in my apartment, not paying the rent, and pretending to be the world’s next Faulkner.

  If I recall from my high school reading list, I never liked him, either.

  It seems like I toss and turn all night but I must sleep some because I wake to my phone alarm chirping. Disoriented, I try to dispel the last dream of shooting holes through donuts at Mrs. Murphy’s bakery.

  My Dad asked when I last fired my weapon so maybe my subconscious is trying to tell me I need more practice at the range.

  After showering, pulling my hair back, and applying much-needed concealer under my eyes, I join Rose and Mia at the breakfast table.

  Mia has her head bowed, saying grace over Cheerios. “Amen.”

  She looks up at me and Rose. “What?”

  “Nothing.” Who the hell prays over cold cereal?

  I open the fridge and find a slice of cold pizza. Now that is what I call heavenly. “Anyone got dibs on this?”

  “Take it to go, we’re late.” Rose slurps down the last of her coffee.

  On the way down the stairs, Joey calls out, “What time was you in, Sammy? Two? Three?”

  I roll my eyes. “I was working on a case, Joe.”

  “Right. I forgot. Didja find Frankie’s pet?”

  I pause for a second at the door while Rose tugs my arm. “Yeah, I found her, but she might take some convincing to leave of her own free will. I wouldn’t want to kidnap her, y’know?”

  He chuckles. “You mean catnap… maybe you should bring some catnip or catsup?”

  Even as we close the door, he’s still calling out, “What, cat got your tongue Sammy?”

  Fuck. I really need to find a new place to call home.

  It’s six long blocks to Aunt Marion’s so we hustle. We jog past the deli and the Korean vegetable market. The bodega is run by an Indian family where I grab some coffee to go.

  “Thanks Preema.”

  “Have a good day.”

  “Thanks, you too.” I look down at my phone.

  Pete: Wear something sexy

 
Eww. I delete the message then scroll down.

  Suds: I had fun last night.

  That one I keep and text back.

  Me: Me too.

  I start to add how I dreamed of him, how much I want him between my legs, and how we should just fuck like bunnies.

  Delete, delete, delete. Damn. No texting before coffee.

  Wednesday mornings, the salon opens at nine and is always busy. The Senior Center has ballroom dancing, followed by a pot luck lunch. Everyone wants to look good.

  Mrs. Grundy’s sister arrives first and sets herself down in front of my sink. “Oh hello, Samantha. Did you find Frankie’s cat?”

  “Almost.” I roll my eyes as I lower her seat, place her neck on the ledge, and test the water temperature.

  “He loves that animal, you know.” She nods as she imparts her sage wisdom.

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “Did you try giving it a treat?”

  “Yes ma’am. It took my sushi grade salmon and made off like a bandit. Next time it gets canned tuna.” I press the sprayer and add shampoo.

  “Not much of a private eye, are you? Otherwise you’d know the little beast loves broccoli.”

  Gritting my teeth, I gently scrub her scalp. “Thanks for the tip.”

  “No problem. By the way, I heard from Joey you’re dating Pete Solari. He’s such a nice boy. He has a big house on Nineteenth Avenue. You could do worse. You aren’t getting any younger, you know.”

  A couple of hens in chairs cluck their agreement.

  Unbelievable. Red faced, I finish with the conditioner, towel dry her hair, and help her to sit in front of Rose who whispers in my ear. “Ignore them. You’ll get used to it.”

  Oh my God, kill me now.

  I pretty much sleep walk through the rest of the morning. I get three texts from my ex, two from Pete, and one from Suds saying he’ll meet me tonight.

  During my break, I check LinkedIn and some other places I posted my resume but nothing. Discouraged, I head home, grab my weapon, and head to the local firing range.

  There’s nothing like shooting your weapon and imagining gray-haired busy-bodies to cheer a woman up. After, I do a little research on cats and go to the shelter to borrow a carrier.