by E. R. Fallon
“We better hurry up,” Camille said, pointing at the night sky.
She and Johnny walked closer to the warehouse but were still far enough away that Camille would have to make an effort in order to shoot through the windows. Johnny showed her how to remove and put in the cartridge and turn off the safety feature on his gun. Her father’s gun was an older model. She hadn’t brought extra bullets with her, but Johnny had.
“You mentioned how old your gun was so I figured you could use them,” he said.
“Thanks. Where do you get them from?” she asked.
“This guy I know. But I wouldn’t meet him alone if I were a woman. He’s a bit strange. I can get you more any time you need me to. Just ask me and I will.”
“Thanks, but I’m sure I can handle him,” Camille said, not wanting to have a man, any man, control the situation.
“No, really. Just ask me.” He paused. “I’m assuming your gun isn’t registered?”
“It’s not,” she said. “Should it be? Is yours?”
Johnny shook his head. “I don’t want the police knowing I have it. I’m assuming you feel the same way?”
“Yeah, they don’t need to know I have it. It’s a hand-me-down, anyway.”
“Doesn’t matter. The cops will bust you if they find it on you and it isn’t registered, so be careful toting it around.”
Camille nodded but she’d thought as much. “Thanks for teaching me to shoot,” she said. “I imagine it’s something my dad would’ve done if he was still around.”
“No problem. I like spending time with you.”
Johnny stood close behind her and showed her how to aim at the window on the warehouse and she fired the gun with his hand over hers. Her hand shook with the force of the gunshot and the smell burned her nostrils. She’d missed and the bullet hit an abandoned car nearby.
Camille laughed at herself. “I think I’m going to need a lot of practice.”
Johnny smiled down at her. “You’ll get better. I’ll help you. Let’s try again.”
He stood behind her and moved her arm so that her aim was more on target. Then he placed his hand on her inner thigh to move her leg and electric shocks were sent through her at the feeling of his touch. She pulled the trigger and hit the area just above the window.
Once again, the smell of the gunshot bothered her. “The smell, and the way it feels—do you ever get used to it?”
“Sure, you will,” Johnny said. “Eventually you won’t even notice it. Your gun is older than mine, so you’ll notice those things more at first.”
Johnny moved to stand behind her again, but Camille stopped him. Truthfully, him being so near to her distracted her because it made her think of other things besides firing the gun.
“I want to see if I can do it on my own this time,” she told him.
Johnny nodded.
Camille widened her stance like he’d showed her and straightened her shoulders. Once again, she aimed and fired, and the sound of shattering glass filled the night air and the pieces sparkled like jewels as they flew all over the place.
Johnny clapped and whistled, and Camille did a little happy dance and ran into Johnny’s arms, and he held onto her and picked her up off the ground.
“You did it,” he said. “See, you’re better at this than you thought.”
“Thanks to your teaching.” She smiled at him.
Johnny squeezed her tightly then set her down on the ground. “I like having you in my arms,” he said, watching her, “because then I know I’ll never lose you.”
Camille’s face felt very warm, but she didn’t know how to respond to him. She aimed again at the building and took another shot at a window, breaking the glass.
“You’re amazing,” Johnny said, beaming at her.
Camille felt something cool on her face and realized it was raining. Soon the rain began to dampen her hands, her hair. Johnny grabbed her hand from behind and they ran for his car. They made it inside and shut the doors as it started to pour. Johnny took Camille’s gun from her and set it on the dashboard next to his.
“How about we come here once a week to practice?” Johnny suggested.
“Sounds good,” Camille replied. She rubbed her hands together.
“Are you cold?” Johnny asked.
“A little.”
He put his arm around her and started the car. “Head On” by Jesus and Mary Chain played on the radio. Camille leaned her head against his shoulder.
He brushed back her hair and whispered into her ear, “I think I’m falling for you.”
Camille liked Johnny but she didn’t want to allow herself to become vulnerable after what happened with Billy.
“I like you, Johnny,” she said. “I need to tell you that I recently came out of a long relationship—I almost married the guy. I saw him today, actually.”
“You ran into him in the street or something?”
“Not exactly. He was at the meeting I went to.”
“He’s in the mafia?” Johnny seemed taken aback.
“Yeah.”
“Did you tell him you were seeing somebody?”
“Yeah, and he asked about you.”
“That doesn’t worry me,” Johnny stated. “I can take care of him.”
“No, nobody is going to ‘take care’ of anybody. I wouldn’t give him your name, but he said he’d find out who you are. Please be careful. Billy, that’s his name, is quite volatile.”
“Billy? He doesn’t scare me.”
“No, look at me.” She held his face in her hands and his skin felt warm and smooth. “I don’t want there to be any trouble, and I’ve told him so. Just please be careful. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“He’s the one who should be careful,” Johnny insisted.
“Johnny, please, you don’t need to take on the mafia over me.”
Johnny kissed her and his lips felt hot and moist on hers. She traced her fingers through his thick, dark hair and he smiled under her touch. Camille maneuvered onto his lap and took off her jacket and pressed her body into his.
Camille’s revelation of their fathers’ friendship had bonded them enough to make love in the car that night. Afterwards Johnny drove her home and kissed her goodnight. Camille knew that things were moving too fast, but she didn’t mind. She already felt closer to Johnny than she had to Billy at that stage of their relationship and she sensed that there was something special about him. He seemed like the kind of man who would be trustworthy and committed to her, which Billy had been in his own way, but he’d been distant too, and Johnny seemed more receptive. Now, if only she could figure out a way to get her mother to like him.
13
Violet waited inside the pub for Sam to pick her up for their date. She knew they were going to a fancy restaurant, but she didn’t know which one and she realized she should have asked him if he’d be meeting her in a car or on foot.
A couple of the regulars asked her why she was so dressed up and Catherine told them about Violet’s date. She hadn’t bought a new dress, she wore one of the ones she used to wear when Kevin had taken her out at night.
Violet’s mother could have gone to her own apartment, where Tommy waited, but Violet figured she wanted to meet Sam. They had planned for Catherine to take Tommy back to Violet’s apartment after Catherine was done at the pub for the night so that he could sleep in his own bed.
Violet sat at a table by the window and waited. One of the regular customers, a woman, told her she looked great and her date should consider himself lucky, and Violet smiled at her.
Catherine, who had been helping to tend to the bar, approached her as the time neared for Sam to arrive.
“I hope he’s not going to be late,” Catherine said.
“He isn’t,” Violet said. “He’ll be here.”
“I bet he drives a nice car,” Catherine commented.
“We might be walking to where we’re going,” Violet replied.
“You don’t know w
here you’re going to eat?”
Violet shook her head.
“He didn’t tell you or you don’t remember?” her mother asked.
“He said it would be a surprise.”
“How mysterious,” Catherine said with a smile.
Violet considered leaving the bar and meeting Sam outside, but the rain prevented that.
“He’ll be here,” Catherine said and rubbed Violet’s shoulders.
“I know,” she said. “I’m not worried.” But she was a little.
A sleek black sports car stopped in the street and parked by the pub. A tall man in a suit and tie got out of the car and she recognized Sam’s handsome face.
“Is that him?” Catherine asked.
“Yeah, that’s Sam.”
“He’s cute,” Catherine said.
“Yeah, and he’s nice, too.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in our pub before.”
“He recently moved to the neighborhood,” Violet said.
Sam locked his car door and walked to the sidewalk. Violet saw that he carried an umbrella. He entered the pub and she sat up as some of the patrons surrounded her, for a look at Sam and eager to meet him. Not enjoying being the center of attention, Violet braced herself and hoped Sam knew what he was in for. Half of everyone in the place wanted to meet him. She waved to Sam and he smiled at her. His hair was damp from the rain and looked darker than it had before.
Before Violet could say anything, her mother stepped in front of her and started speaking to Sam.
“I’m Catherine, Violet’s mother.”
Sam handled the situation well. “I’m Sam. It’s great to meet you,” he said and shook her mother’s hand.
Sam seemed experienced at meeting and dealing with his dates’ mothers, and her own mother seemed to like him a lot, and she imagined the other mothers did as well. The pub was like a community, and Violet rose from her chair before a patron could approach Sam and begin talking to him.
Sam hadn’t moved far from the doorway because Catherine blocked him, and Violet arrived in time to hear her mother telling him about Tommy, and she was relieved that she’d already told him herself.
“He knows I have a son,” Violet told her mother.
“And he’s a true gentleman for being so kind about it,” Catherine said to both as she beamed.
Her mother was right in a way, as a lot of the guys Violet met bolted once they found out she had a son.
More than one patron came up to Sam and introduced themselves and Violet wanted to get out of there before one of them could start telling him stories about her youth, how she’d been chubby and awkward as a teenager, or how her grandfather, if he’d been there, would have pulled a gun on Sam if he dared to try anything with Violet. That could lead to Sam asking questions about her family that she didn’t want to answer.
Max came downstairs to say hello. He patted Sam’s back.
“You be nice to her,” he lectured Sam.
“We have to go now,” Violet told her mother quickly. “Don’t let Tommy stay up too late.”
“I’ll try not to but remember I’m ‘fun grandma’.” Catherine winked at her.
Violet grabbed Sam’s hand and they left as one of the patrons called out for them to “Have a good time!”
“Everyone’s so welcoming,” Sam said to her as he opened the umbrella and held it over her so she wouldn’t get wet on the walk to his car. “And here I thought we newcomers weren’t welcome.”
“Don’t let them fool you,” Violet said. “They just want to know everything so they can gossip about it later. A lot of the old timers in this neighborhood are like that. They have to know everyone else’s business.”
“Really? They seem so nice.”
“That’s just so they can get information,” she told him with a smile.
“I’ll be careful, then,” Sam said to her with a wink. He opened the door for her, and she got inside and then watched him as he walked around the front of the car and closed the umbrella and entered the driver’s seat.
“You never told me where we’re going,” she said as he shut his door and started the car.
“This steakhouse called Anthony’s, it’s nearby,” he replied.
Violet became quiet as she debated what to tell him, but on the inside she panicked a little. “I know where that is,” she finally said. “My ex, Tommy’s father, is there a lot because he works for the owner.”
“He works at the restaurant?”
“Not exactly.” It was way too early to introduce Sam to Kevin and his lifestyle.
“I don’t think he’ll be there tonight, though,” she realized with relief.
If Sam was relieved, he wasn’t showing it, but she imagined he was, as no one wanted to meet their date’s ex on the first date. She looked back at the pub as Sam drove away and saw her mother and some of the patrons watching them from the window.
“We can go somewhere else if you’d like,” Sam offered.
“No, that’s okay. I’m sure you have a reservation.”
“We do but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“I won’t be uncomfortable,” she clarified. “Some of the staff there are a bit nosey and they might report back to him, but it’s all right, he won’t care.”
“What’s his name, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Kevin Carmine.”
“Carmine, is that Italian?”
“Yep.”
“Does he live in the neighborhood?” Sam asked.
Violet found his questioning charming; it was as though he was concerned that she’d go back to Kevin.
“No, he lives in another part of the city.”
“How did you meet him?” Sam paused. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to pry, I’m just curious.”
“It’s okay. I met him through a friend.” Which was a lie. She’d met Kevin because, starting with her grandfather, her family had done business with the Alfonsi crime family, who Kevin worked for.
“How long were you together?” he asked her as he drove.
The steakhouse was close by but not that close, and Violet couldn’t wait to get there because maybe when they were eating, he wouldn’t ask her as many questions. But she also knew that they were on a date, something she hadn’t done for a long time, and that part of the dating process was getting to know the other person, something Violet wasn’t comfortable with since Sam wasn’t a mob guy.
“A long time. Years, starting when I was a teenager, and up until Tommy was eight. Kevin was older than me and more experienced and I think I fell for him because of that.” Violet found herself telling Sam things she had never told Anton during the long time they’d been together.
“He took advantage of you?” Sam asked with concern in his voice.
Violet focused on the traffic light where they were stopped. “No, never. I might have been young, but I knew what I was doing.”
Sam touched her shoulder—the first time he ever touched her—and warmth filled her body. “Good. I wouldn’t want anyone to do that to you.”
“You’re sweet,” Violet told him.
She hadn’t been paying attention to the passing scenery, because if she had she would have recognized the neighborhood. She glanced at the brightly lit restaurant, which looked filled with customers despite the poor weather.
“We’re here,” Sam told her. “I don’t think they have a parking garage, so we’ll have to find a space and then walk. I hope that’s okay.”
“They don’t have one. Sure, that’s fine. We can just use your umbrella.” She wouldn’t mind being near him under the umbrella.
They had to park rather far away, and Sam exited first and opened the umbrella and then opened the door for her. The rain continued to pour. He angled the umbrella so she wouldn’t get wet as she stepped outside.
“Thanks,” she said, and he locked the car doors and they hurried to the restaurant with the rain pounding down on them.
The host
ess, Gina, a beautiful, curvaceous young woman who Violet knew during the years she’d been with Kevin, greeted them when they entered. Violet hadn’t been to the restaurant since she and Kevin broke up.
“Violet!” Gina smiled and gave her a hug.
“Hi, Gina. How are you?” Violet asked, standing somewhat awkwardly in her arms.
Sam waited patiently for her to introduce them.
“Gina, this is Sam. Sam, this is Gina, she’s the restaurant’s hostess and we’ve known each other for a long time.”
Violet watched as the two shook hands.
“He’s cute,” Gina whispered to her when Sam wasn’t paying attention.
Violet figured Gina would tell Kevin about Violet’s date when she saw him, not that Kevin would mind, he wasn’t the jealous type.
“You know, Kevin was in here earlier for a meeting with Vito and Billy,” Gina told her.
“Really?” Violet said, though she wasn’t too surprised since Kevin and his gang held ‘meetings’ there quite often.
Gina didn’t know better than to not talk about the mob guys’ business with Violet, which Violet had come to appreciate after she and Kevin broke up because that way, she always knew what was going on with Kevin.
“Yeah, it was strange because a woman met them,” Gina told her. “It wasn’t Kevin alone, though, so it wasn’t a date or anything. He was here with some of the other guys, which is why I thought it was a meeting.”
“What did she look like?” Violet realized that with Sam there it wasn’t the appropriate time to discuss the meeting, but she had a reason for asking. Camille.
“She was on the younger side. Tall, attractive. She didn’t stay long.”
That sounded a lot like Camille.
Violet wanted to ask Gina if the meeting was out front or in the backroom because the latter meant that it was serious, but couldn’t ask in front of Sam. Besides, Gina didn’t know Camille, so she wouldn’t be able to confirm she was there. Violet knew Camille’s stepfather worked for the Alfonsis, but it had never occurred to her that they wouldn’t be loyal to her and her mother since she was the mother of Kevin’s child.
“Interesting,” Violet said to Gina because she didn’t know what else to say. But she didn’t really find it interesting, her stomach tightened, and she felt unnerved about the situation. She felt like running home and telling her mother but knew that Sam would probably never speak to her again if she did.