Filthy: A Mafia Romance

by Zoey Parker

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Well enough,” I answered tersely.

  “Plenty of business?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  He smiled. Not a smile like he wanted to devour me, but a smile like he had a secret. Like he was in control. Like he knew something I didn’t and he was more than happy to use that to his advantage. “You’ve really got a great location here.”

  I thought again of the abandoned building across the street and the brick wall. “Yeah, it’s good.”

  “I was thinking you might be kind enough to give me a quick tour of the place?”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. When it was clear he wasn’t kidding, I lifted an arm and waved it in the air above my head to indicate the room. “This is the shop. What you see is what you get,” I told him drily.

  He laughed, low and deep. One of those rumbling laughs that settles somewhere in your chest, behind your ribs, and sends those good ripples through your body. Like he was at some comedy club and I was the best damn comedian he’d seen in ages.

  Which was highly doubtful. I wasn’t exactly known for my comedic genius.

  “What’s so funny?” I couldn’t help but ask, though I was sure he was just laughing to get on my nerves. Everything about this man got on my nerves. All I wanted was for him to get the hell out of my shop and never come back.

  But I knew better than to tell him that. It was one thing to be cold towards him. But downright rude? Disrespectful? That was like asking for trouble and with my head just barely above water, I couldn’t afford that kind of trouble.

  When he got himself under control again, even wiping at his eyes in an exaggerated fashion, he smiled broadly at me. “I like you. You’re a funny one.”

  I didn’t say anything in response to that, just waited for him to give me an answer.

  After a moment, the businessman returned and he said to me, “I was actually hoping to see if you had some extra space in the back. Maybe a storage room? You must have some for the shop, of course, but maybe some food storage for the store?”

  I frowned a little, trying to figure out his angle. Of course I had storage. The Cut needed chemicals, hair products, and some miscellaneous items like clips, combs, gloves, and aprons. Dry goods, so to speak. But the convenience store had space for some of the food stuffs we sold. There was even a decent-sized cooler in the back behind the alcohol section, though it wouldn’t compete with any major chain.

  What I couldn’t figure out is why Ethan Chambers would care.

  “I have storage,” I answered stiffly. “It’s nominal, but it works for my purposes.”

  He nodded once, his expression considering. “Do you use all of it?”

  “Not usually, no.”

  His smile was sly as he moved from the chair where he’d been lingering to come and stand closer to me. My first instinct was to step back and put some distance between us, but I forced myself to remain still. I’d hold my ground if only because I wouldn’t let him intimidate me like this.

  “I have a little proposition for you, then,” he said. “Businessman to businesswoman. I’d like to rent your extra storage space which would in no way interfere with your business here.” He waved a large hand around to indicate my shop, not unlike I’d mockingly done earlier. “I’ll store some extra stock here—from the diner—until I need it. At which point I’ll stop by and pick it up. You won’t even know it’s there.”

  Already, I knew I didn’t like this. I opened my mouth to tell him that I wasn’t interested when he added quickly, “I’ll pay you a good price. Better than anyone else would.”

  That made me pause.

  Extra money? How could a single mother with a barely-above-water business ignore an outright promise of more income?

  I couldn’t. But still I hesitated. It wasn’t that it sounded wrong, necessarily. Based on what he’d just suggested, I was only providing extra space for his overflow stock. He’d pay me, like any renter might, and I wouldn’t have to have anything to do with it. No worries about moving shipments, checking in freight, or otherwise dealing with expiration dates, food quality, or transportation.

  And, yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was wrong. There was something that just didn’t sit right with me. Maybe it was the fact that I knew Ethan wasn’t the easy-going, friendly businessman he sold himself as.

  Or maybe it was just that I wasn’t an idiot. Who would come to me to store extra food from his diner? After all, he owned half the businesses in town. There were plenty of other places he could store his stuff. For free.

  That was what made me nervous.

  Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I thought it over. Ethan had the money to make good on his promise of a decent price for the space.

  I could really use the money.

  “And what exactly would you be storing here?”

  He shrugged casually. “Oh, just some extra stock that I don’t have room for at the diner.”

  Frowning, I clarified, “Food?”

  He nodded. “Consumables, yes.”

  I went over it in my head once more. It was just food. Extra food from the diner. I would just be storing it until he needed it so that he could run a more successful business. Which meant he’d make good on his promise to pay me. Which meant I could make some extra money.

  I tried to talk myself into it, but I wasn’t having an easy time of it. Finally, I just told him simply, “I want to think it over before I commit to anything.”

  Ethan smiled widely at me, though I thought there was something hard in the line of his mouth. “Sure. Just don’t think too long, honey,” he told me with a wink. “The first shipment is due in just a few days.”

  His gaze had turned predatory and there was the promise of something dark lingering in his eyes. But he didn’t do anything or say anything more. He just gave me a brief nod, then turned for the door. He left, the little bell ringing after him, and I stood there staring at where he’d been.

  I couldn’t shake that I’d just met with the devil and, whether I had asked for it or not, my soul was on the line.

  Chapter 2

  I’d had Ethan Chambers on my mind all day long, and it wasn’t in the sexy, doing unspeakably dirty things to me as I moaned in pleasure kind of way either. No, it was in the making a deal with Chambers was like making a deal with the devil kind of way.

  When twelve rolled around, I closed up shop for an hour. It was lunchtime and while I hated losing an hour in the afternoon, I also knew how important it was to take a break. I’d send Jessie out again to pick up Cody from school, then we’d all three spend the rest of the afternoon here at work until closing. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked for now.

  Jessie made sure things were in order, then brought over two chicken salad sandwiches for us. We sat in two of the big chairs that were usually reserved for customers. For a minute, it was in silence. We just ate and appreciated the fact that we were off our aching feet.

  But when my sandwich was half-finished, I put it down momentarily, took a drink of water, and blurted out, “Ethan Chambers stopped by.”

  Jessie nearly chocked on her sandwich, patting at her chest in an effort to clear her airway. I winced, offering her a drink of water.

  “Sorry,” I muttered.

  She swallowed, then took another sip of water. Breathing properly again, she turned to me and demanded, “What? Ethan Chambers? As in the Ethan Chambers, Mr. Bad News himself?”

  I nodded.

  “What the hell? Did you cut his hair? What did it feel like?”

  Jessie was well aware of who Ethan Chambers was. She knew his reputation just as well as I did, and she also knew he was drop dead gorgeous. I wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen him in person—I hadn’t until that morning—but it didn’t matter. He’d been in the papers around here enough times that everyone knew his face even if they didn’t know him personally.

  I rolled my eyes at Jessie. “No, I didn’t cut his hair.”

  She momentarily s
eemed put out, then grabbed her sandwich again. She took a bite, chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed and asked, “Then what was he doing here?”

  Leaning forward, putting my elbows on my knees, I told her, “He had a business arrangement to offer me.”

  At that, she raised an eyebrow at me. “A business arrangement? Seriously? That sounds one hundred percent like bad news.”

  I lifted one shoulder in a shrug, deflated. Yes, I’d thought the same thing, but I’d been hoping that I was overreacting. I really could use the money. “He asked to use my storage space for overflow from his diner. He said he’d pay well.”

  Folding her arms across her chest, she gave me a look. One that said you’re nuts for even considering this. “Overflow.”

  I nodded.

  “From his diner.”

  Again, I nodded.

  “Right. Because he doesn’t have dozens of other places he could use to store food. His places. That would be totally rent free.”

  I winced. That was exactly where I’d gone with that reasoning, too. Sighing, I said, “So it’s a bad idea, right?”

  “No, it’s a horrible idea! It’s the worst thing you could do to yourself and this shop, Diana, you know that. You know what I heard?”

  “Do I want to?” I asked bleakly, no longer interested in my half-eaten sandwich. I drank a little water instead, because my mouth suddenly felt like a desert.

  “He’s a drug dealer, Diana,” she told me bluntly. I could always count on Jessie for some up front honesty. “He uses his diner as a cover to store and deal his drugs. Think about it. It’s a prime location, with all those truckers stopping by on their way in and out of town. Tons of movement going on there and hard to trace, right? After all, it could be any of those guys hauling drugs and they make stops across the country.”

  Sighing, I nodded. Nothing about this was surprising to me. I may not have had the specifics, but I knew Ethan was bad news. And it settled things for me. If it really had been just about storing some frozen chicken until he needed it, that would be one thing, but drugs? I couldn’t let The Cut be a cover for that kind of illicit operation.

  I had a son to think of. If I got busted with those kinds of drugs…what would happen to Cody? Would his deadbeat dad magically appear out of nowhere, riding in on some white horse, to scoop Cody up and take him to a better life? Probably not. I’d long since stopped waiting around for Collin to show up again.

  No, Cody would end up in foster care. The very best I could hope for is that Jessie would be able to take him, but I knew what she made. It was barely enough for herself, and it was contingent on the success of The Cut. And even if that all somehow worked out, I would never see him again.

  Never.

  The thought put my stomach in knots. I felt so awful that I almost felt sick.

  No, I couldn’t let any of that happen. I would have to tell Ethan no. It didn’t matter how much money he paid me. It wouldn’t be worth my life and the life of my kid. Cody always had to come first.

  We finished our lunches in silence, then I opened up the shop again. Jessie went back to the register, taking calls, making appointments, and helping people on the convenience store side. She really was a lifesaver. Worth three employees for the price of one and if I could give the woman a raise, I would.

  She went to pick up Cody a couple of hours later and brought him back to The Cut. I spent some time with him, but I ended up being pretty busy. Jessie entertained him, though, and let him draw all over the sticky notes she’d pasted across the register.

  I watched them in a daze, telling myself the money wasn’t worth the risk. But the honest money I was making barely cut it, and that was hard to know.

  I had several more appointments and two walk-ins. Everyone was talkative, but I wasn’t, so I mostly let my clients ramble away. I had other things on my mind. I’d have to call Ethan. Tell him my decision, which was a resolute no. But I’d have to have a reason and I had a feeling that it wouldn’t fly to tell him I thought he was a drug dealer who wanted to use my drug free, completely by the books store as a cover for his operation.

  Yeah, that would go over like a lead balloon.

  When I was finally done with customers, we closed up shop. Jessie cashed out the register while I cleaned up. Cody insisted on helping, so I let him sweep the floors. He made more of a mess than he cleaned up, but I appreciated his effort. He was a sweet kid and I was so proud of him.

  He’ll be a good man, I thought to myself.

  We were ready to head out in an hour. I dropped Jessie off, then went home with Cody. I still had dishes from that morning to do, but the laundry could wait another day and I had leftovers to reheat for dinner, so I was in good shape. Which meant I had no excuse to not call Ethan Chambers and tell him my decision.

  “Are we going to have mac ‘n cheese every night, Mom?”

  I glanced up from my plate of congealed cheese and elbow noodles. I looked at my son’s wide, round face. His hair was sticking up again, that little cowlick in the front just a single curl that came down farther and to the left while everything else went right. “No, honey. We’ll…we’ll do spaghetti tomorrow, okay?”

  “That’s okay. I like mac ‘n cheese. I think everyone should have it like we do.” He dug into his noodles for emphasis, scooping a huge bite into his mouth.

  The whole thing tugged at my heart a little, because I knew he was being honest. He loved the blue box special, as my mother used to call it. But we’d had mac ‘n cheese four out of five nights this week because I didn’t have the money for much else.

  It was pancakes for breakfast, because I’d gotten a sale on the big box of mix last shopping trip. And it was peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch, because a little goes a long way and I could get both peanut butter and jelly for a good price thanks to the convenience store. But he deserved variety and, god, I was tired of the damn orange cheese.

  You could use that money, a traitorous little voice whispered in the back of my head. I shoved it aside, forcing myself to picture what would happen to the boy sitting in front of me if I got caught storing Ethan’s drugs.

  Instead, I focused on my son. I watched him pile macaroni onto his spoon, using his fingers to keep it in place, and shoveling it into his mouth as only a little boy can do. My heart clenched at his innocence, his sweetness, and I felt tears prick at my eyes. I told myself everything was going to be okay. All I had to do was keep being a good mom to him and that meant keeping my nose out of the business of people like Ethan Chambers.

  ”I love you, honey,” I told Cody.

  He smiled at me across the table and with a mouth full of fake cheesy goodness, he responded with, “I love you, too, Mommy.”

  I promised myself that after dinner I would make the call to tell Ethan I wouldn’t do it. Nothing good could come from saying yes.

  Chapter 3

  Cody was working on what qualified as homework for a six-year-old. I could hear him laughing in the living room as I filled up the sink to let the dishes soak. When they were submerged under scalding hot, soapy water, I checked on Cody once more and then headed into the hall with my phone. I didn’t exactly want to call Ethan Chambers tonight—or any other night—but I would. Clutching the card he’d given me tightly in my hand, I dialed the number on it with trembling fingers.

  I will not be afraid of Ethan Chambers, I told myself firmly, for all the good it would do. I was already petrified and I knew it. He probably did, too.

  The phone rang a couple of times before I heard it click as someone on the other end picked up. “Chambers,” he said simply, his voice deep and rich. It could have been a nice voice if it weren’t attached to such a horrible man.

  Clearing my throat, I said, “It’s Diana. Diana Leone.” I paused a beat, then added, “The owner of The Cut?”

  “I know who you are, Diana Leone,” Chambers answered with what I imagined as an amused smile on his handsome face. “I have to assume you’re calling about my offer.”


  My stomach knotted with nervousness. People didn’t just turn down Ethan Chambers and that was exactly what I was about to do. “Yes,” I answered, struggling to get out anymore.

  “Have you had time to think it over?”

  I swallowed and took a deep breath. Then I forced myself to answer. “Yes, I have. I’ve…I’ve made up my mind.”

  “And?” he prompted when I left that statement hanging in the stretch of empty airspace between us.

  “While your offer is very generous, I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline.”

  There was a long pause, then, “What?”

  I pulled myself up taller, even though he couldn’t see me. “I can’t do the deal, Mr. Chambers. I really just can’t.”