Katherine gaped.
“You mean after seeing me out there on the dance floor, you didn’t figure me for a professional ballerina or Broadway choreographer?” she marveled, waiting for his raucous laughter to subside before continuing, “No, actually I spend most of my evenings, and a good number of my days, at another type of club altogether. I’m actually the manager and, sometimes, featured talent at Chuckles Comedy Club on 8th Street.”
Xavier nodded.
“I’ve been to Chuckles a few times, great place!” he praised her. “And I can tell that, with your humor and energy, you have pretty much landed yourself the perfect job.”
Katherine grinned.
“Why thank you,” she acknowledged his compliment, adding in a wistful, faraway tone, “When I was a little girl I used to do stand up for my friends, turning our playhouse into a comedy club. I turned all of my oral book reports and other presentations into bits and routines. I also loved drama and managed to snare the character parts in every school play. Oh you’d never catch me playing Juliet, Cecily snared all of the leading lady roles, but I turned the nurse into a real Smart Alec and some surefire comic relief for the whole production.”
Xavier chuckled.
“Well believe me Kat, I would have loved to see a lighter take on Romeo and Juliet,” Xavier revealed. “If I had it my way, in fact, many more comedies would grace the silver screen, not to mention theatrical stages. Life can be so dark and violent, these days we’re all in need of an escape.”
Kat nodded.
“Don’t I know it!” she agreed. “I mean, my childhood alone was not exactly a barrel of laughs. I was raised by a single mom in a not-so-great neighborhood, and often our only entertainment involved sitting around on the couch with a box of popcorn between us, watching reruns of I Love Lucy and The Carol Burnett Show. Or movies with funny females, like 9 to 5 and Outrageous Fortune. I tell you, Xavier, if I had it my way I would have been right up there on the big screen, starring in my own comedies like Amy Schumer and Tina Fey.”
Xavier shrugged.
“So why didn’t you go to Hollywood and give it a go?” he asked, tone genuinely confused. “You would be a natural.”
Kat shrugged.
“After living hand to mouth for so much of my childhood, I knew that I needed to get a stable job,” she explained. “Not that I make a queen’s ransom at the comedy club, but I can pay the rent and keep food on the table. And that’s something.”
Xavier thought a moment, then shook his head.
“It’s not enough, though,” he informed her. “Not for a woman like you.”
With these words he took her hand in his; raising it to his full moist lips for a most gentlemanly kiss.
“I do believe it is high time, Katherine, for you to be spoiled rotten,” he told her with a smile. “And with that in mind, I would very much like for you to join me for dinner at one of my family’s restaurants here in Clearview. So if you’d like to tell me where I can pick you up next Friday night at 8, then I swear that I’ll show you the time of your life.”
Kat nodded.
“I’d love to go to dinner with you, Xavier,” she agreed, adding with a shrug, “And as it happens, you already know my address. I live in an apartment on the third floor of Chuckles Comedy Club.”
“I’ll be there,” Xavier promised, clapping his hands together as he added, “Hope you like Italian.”
Kat grinned.
“I love Italian,” she agreed, adding with a flirty wink, “And I’ll tell ya something else. The food ain’t bad either.”
Leaning forward with a lusty chuckle, Xavier erased all distance between them at the table.
“You ain’t so bad either, Doll,” he told her on a whisper, clutching her hand in his as his lips loomed dangerously close.
Suddenly he seized her lips in a hot, passionate kiss, his full warm lips massaging hers as she moaned in contentment. Angling his head over hers to intensify their kiss, Xavier surged his tongue into her mouth until it merged and entangled with her own; all the while lifting his hands to cup her flushed cheeks and caress her porcelain skin.
Leaning full and hard into his kiss, a ravenous Katherine wrapped her arms around Xavier’s broad shoulders as their wet tongues danced a decadent tango that stole her breath.
She released a frustrated moan seconds later as her lover broke their kiss, drawing back to stare deep into her eyes as he held her hands between his.
“Nobody’s sayin’ you have to stop,” she said on a heated whisper, taking a deep sustaining breath as she regarded her lover with narrowed, lust-filled eyes.
Xavier’s answering laughter, only served to arouse her further.
“And I don’t want to stop, my darling,” he assured her, adding as he met her desirous look with one of his own, “If you only knew the fantasies that are filling my head at this moment, Katherine…. You have no idea how much I want you.”
With these provocative words and a long last look that bespoke this emotion, Xavier finally released her hands and arose from the table.
“I want to take this slowly, Kat, to really get to know you,” he told her, adding as he leaned forward to sear her lips with a swift but intense kiss, “So for now, my love, I bid you good night.”
Chapter 4
Katherine watched in a dreamlike haze as her mysterious dance partner disappeared into the crowd, seeming to merge perfectly with the night itself as the music continued to pound and pulsate from the very heart of the dance floor.
Finally she arose quietly from his table and made her way back to her own, relieved to see that this evening’s session of The Cecily Fan Club finally had reached its fateful end; and that the lovely subject of all that unrestrained longing and pent up passion now sat alone at the head of the table.
“Hey Cecily, you won’t believe what just happened,” she related with a grin, an expression that dissolved abruptly when her friend answered her with a deep, pronounced frown.
“Hey Cece, are you OK?” Kat asked her longtime friend, rushing to take the seat beside her at the table as she placed her hand square atop her slender shoulder. “I mean, I was a bit worried about you, over here alone with all of these lounge lizards, but Xavier swore that his guard would look after you….”
“You mean his henchman,” Cecily interrupted her, adding as she shook her head from side to side, “I tell ya, Kat. As much as you may have been worried about me, I was far more concerned about you.”
Kat shook her head.
“Why?” she inquired, making a broad gesture toward the center of the club. “I was with Xavier Ambrose, the owner of the club.”
Cecily rolled her eyes.
“Exactly the reason behind my worry,” she asserted, adding as she leaned forward to look her confused friend directly in the eyes, “Don’t you know who he is?”
Kat shrugged.
“Um, I dunno,” she offered in a caustic tone. “As far as I’ve been able to gather thus far, he is a gorgeous, charming, generous man who also happens to have more than a few bucks tucked away in the bank.” She paused here, adding as she threw a dramatic arm over two abnormally wide eyes, “Quelle horreur! How can I associate myself with such a hideous man and out and out loser?!”
Cecily sighed.
“Oh Ambrose is a looker all right, in addition to being very wealthy and successful,” she allowed, adding with a pointed glance in Katherine’s direction, “If they ever come up with a dating-themed television game show called Mafia Match Ups, I am sure that he would make an excellent, if not winning contestant.”
Kat froze.
“What did you just say?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Cecily nodded.
“Oh, he probably told you all about his family’s multi-billion-dollar corporate empire, and about how his daddy, the amazing Michelangelo Ambrose, is the top exec on today’s business scene,” she allowed, adding in a lower tone, “What he might not tell you is that Daddy might not ha
ve used the most honest means to come by those many billions, and that he just may in fact be a Mafia Don.”
Katherine shook her head.
“Cecily, if this is your idea of a joke, then you should maybe shut your trap and leave the funny business to me,” she suggested, adding as she pinned her friend with a sharp sideways glance, “I just don’t see how you could be serious, considering that the gentleman I now have spent two evenings with ranks among the kindest and most courteous I’ve ever met.”
Cecily snorted.
“Oh sure, those mafia guys are the nicest you’ll ever meet, as long as you play strict by their rules and look the other way when things don’t seem quite right,” she verified. “Just don’t try to cross or even disagree with your darling Don.”
Kat had heard enough.
“Just what proof do you have of what you’re saying?” she demanded.
Cecily cleared her throat.
“Well I’m not exactly going to continue discussing it here, in his club,” she insisted, adding as she rose from the table, “Just suffice it to say that it might be in your best interest to forget that you ever met Xavier Ambrose.”
Chapter 5
The next day Katherine found herself back at work at Chuckles Comedy Club, forcing herself to concentrate on the day to day business of making people laugh, even as her own demeanor and composure seemed to lose all semblance of its usual good humor.
One moment she basked in the sweet memory of Xavier’s kisses and tender caresses; her heart pounding as she imagined herself back in his arms, thrilling her with his every touch as the music of the night surged wild around him.
“I’ve never met anyone quite like him,” she reasoned, biting her lip as a surge of unbidden erotic sparks ran wild throughout her entire being.
This marked the fifth time that day alone, in fact, that yet another pesky surge of unbidden erotic sparks ran wild throughout her entire being—blast it!
“Of course, I know just how to cool myself off,” she mused, leaning back in the cushions of the comfy swivel chair that fronted her desk in the Chuckles back office. “I’ll just think of that one time my best friend accused my exciting, oh so sexy, new suitor of having mafia ties. That’ll cool a gal’s libido in jig time!”
After arriving home from her (mostly) magical night at Club Groove, Katherine had seriously considered calling the place to cancel her date with the club’s owner. Somehow, though, she just couldn’t coax herself to bring an end to the feeling that permeated her body and soul; the intoxication, the natural high that only he seemed inspire within her.
“Being involved in the club scene for as long as I have, I happen to consider myself an excellent judge of character. And there is no way that this man is a—oh, I can’t even say it,” she completed on a sigh, adding as she shook her head from side to side, “You know what, as much as I adore Cecily, I should really take everything she says with a grain of salt. Make that a pound or a pillar of salt, maybe even as much salt as I have to pile on my grandma’s mashed potatoes before they are remotely close to palatable. And that, dear friends, is a whole lot of salt!”
Her friend, she had to remind herself, had a love for the dramatic that translated well to her chosen career as an actress and model—but not so well to everyday life, at least in some cases.
“She’s just seen The Godfather Trilogy and Married to the Mob one too many times, maybe we did one too many marathons of The Sopranos back in the day,” she reasoned. “Or, maybe she’s just jealous that the best looking gent in the club last night preferred me over her—for once.”
She grinned in spite of herself at the very thought, but only briefly.
“I just don’t believe that this could be true,” she reasoned. “Could it?”
Her troubled meditation was disrupted by the sound of a resounding knock on the club’s back door, one that brought her to her feet as she rushed to answer the summons.
“This is usually the time of day that the mail arrives,” she reasoned. “And, today at least, it also happens to be an excellent time for me to get my mind off of the royal mess that is my personal life and actually get some work done.”
With this in mind she opened the door to welcome Clyde, the postman who soon filled her hands with that day’s special deliveries.
Soon she found herself back at her desk and sorting through her usual daily round of audition tapes and DVDs from local and national comics, magazines and newsletters pertaining to the comedy industry, and, of course, bills and invoices directly pertaining to the running of a club.
Unearthed beneath this pile of expected mail came something most unexpected, a sleek ivory white package wrapped in a lace lined lavender ribbon and marked with a calligraphy pen.
“Ambrose Department Store,” she read the return address as a curious tingle raced up the length of her spine, one that seemed to represent a curious mixture of excitement and trepidation.
Still she ripped open the elegantly appointed package, revealing as she did a stunning evening gown that almost seemed custom made to showcase her generous curves.
A lavish dress of pure and silky tulle, its lavender hue and lace embroidered applique pattern rendered the garment a work of art. One that she unfolded immediately and ran through her hands with the greatest of admiration.
“Beautiful,” she breathed, holding the unfurled gown up to her body and twirling free like a careless school girl.
Finally returning to her seat with an uncharacteristic giggle, she took a second look at the package that lay open at the center of her desk, seeing for the first time a piece of crème colored stationery that lay folded at the bottom.
Secured with a stamp that bore the image of a scarlet red rose, the sealed letter also was ripped open with little regard to its formal presentation, revealing as it did an official letterhead that also bore the image of the rose, along with an inscribed logo underneath that read, “Ambrose Industries Inc., Clearview, Florida.”
“See, Cecily,” she spoke inwardly in her mind. “You were so wrong. Their logo reads Ambrose Industries, incorporated, even! Not Ambrose Mob Family. Ha!”
Finally her gaze wandered to the neat handwritten letter emblazoned just below the logo. One whose long flowing strokes adorned and embellished its luminous surface.
“Dearest Katherine,” the missive read. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you since last we met, and I keep willing the week before us to fly past in the span of a heartbeat, so that we can meet again and I can take you out for our first formal dinner.”
“As I myself do not have much of a taste in women’s clothes, I have asked our personal shopper at Ambrose Department Store to select our loveliest gown for the occasion of our date. If it is not to your liking, then please come and visit our store, where you now have an open and prepaid account. I am sure that we would have something you do like—and if not, I could contact one of our in house fashion designers to whip up something for you in time for our date.”
“OK, hold up just a minute here,” Kat dropped the letter full on the table below her, clutching her head between her hands as she considered these last words. “You whip up a Dagwood style submarine sandwich for a random midnight snack, not a high fashion, haute couture gown. Wait a minute, did I just repeat myself? Do high fashion and haute couture not mean the exact same thing, or nearly so? Oh never mind, this dude is just unreal.”
Retrieving the letter from its place on her desk, Kat proceeded to peruse the last few lines of her fresh delivered letter.
“Whenever you try on the dress, sweet Kat, imagine my hands all over you,” the note read. “And with that, my beauty, I bid you farewell—or, so I prefer to say, see you soon. With greatest affection, Xavier.”
Once again setting the letter aside, Kat collapsed back into the cushions of her seat and stretched languidly; more than living up to her feline namesake as she sprawled and purred in a state of heat.
In her mind’s eye she pictured herself back o
n the floor at Club Groove, dancing nice and slow with her stunning companion. Then she went deeper into the fantasy, imagining their bodies entwined in another setting and context.
“Oh dear,” she blinked, righting herself in her chair as she cleared her throat loudly. “So it’s been altogether too long since I, um, dated. And oh Lordy does it ever show.”
Yet as she set aside her ebullient gift package and forced herself to focus instead on her freshly delivered audition tapes, she knew that she could not blame her fevered, newly aroused state on the singular, and, for her, not terribly unfamiliar, state of “going without” for too long.
“He is doing this to me,” she admitted. “It’s him.”
Chapter 6
Friday not could not arrive soon enough for Katherine, who assigned her assistant manager to watch over the club for the evening; retreating upstairs to slip into her new dress and brush out the strands of her long, cinnamon brown hair and also applying some flashy new cosmetics to complete her look.
Jumping as a loud honking sound resounded from just outside her apartment, she grabbed hold of her favorite white seashell purse and headed downstairs to meet her date for the evening.
Soon she opened the door of her comedy club to reveal the vision of a long shiny black car that seemed strangely out of place in her working class neighborhood.
“Did someday die?” she mused with a frown.
Her concerns were allayed seconds later, as the shaded back window of the ebony auto lowered to reveal a familiar face; one that smiled brilliant and beckoned her forward with a cherry summons of “Get over here, my lady! Get ready for the time of your life!”
Following Xavier’s directive with her own bright beam, Katherine soon joined him in the velvety back seat of his polished limousine; almost gaping outright as she beheld the vision of her dinner date, bedecked as he was in a fine suit of black silk with shiny brass buttons and a sharp gold shirt and jet black tie underneath.
BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE: PREGNANCY ROMANCE: Billionaire Mafia Boss’s Baby (Mafia Alpha Billionaire Romance) (Contemporary BBW New Adult Romance) Page 2