“Mmm, thanks.” I picked up the maple syrup and poured some on. “How’s your head this morning?”
“It’s OK.”
“What did Sam say last night?” I asked, cutting into the pancakes.
“He won’t bother you this week.”
“Good.” I swallowed a syrupy bite, savoring its sweetness. “What about the rum?”
He brought his cup to his lips and took a long swallow before answering. “We wait at the tracks for the shipment and steal it. Or maybe hijack them on the road back. Sam hasn’t decided yet.”
Laying down the fork, I pushed the plate away from me. “Should I expect you back here at two in the morning again? Perhaps with a bullet in your chest?”
“Don’t worry about it. You gonna give that money to the cake-eater tonight?”
“I suppose so.”
“Don’t go to the club alone.” He drank again. “I wish we knew where they were keeping your pop. You think he’s there in the building somewhere?”
“Enzo said he wasn’t.”
Joey rolled his eyes. “And we all know Enzo’s on the level.”
My face got hot. “I’m just telling you what he said.”
“Well, as far as I’m concerned, that guy’s word is worth less than a load of pig shit. I told you not to trust him.”
“I don’t trust anybody!”
“Not even me?” His tone dared me to admit it.
I swallowed.
“You don’t.”
Staring at his scraped-up hands holding the cup, I said, “I’m just scared.”
“Look at me.” I lifted my eyes to his. “I made you a promise last night. I intend to keep it.”
“But you’re going to that hijacking tonight, and if you’re shot or—”
“Nothing will happen to me.”
“Vince probably said the same thing to Bridget before he left for the police station that day.” It was out before I even realized I was comparing us to my sister and her husband.
He took a deep breath before speaking. “That was different. Vince and those guys were totally unprepared. They got ambushed. We’re planning things carefully and they don’t know we’re coming.”
“That’s an ambush,” I pointed out. “Just as many people could wind up dead. And what if Angel somehow figures out it was me who told you guys when the rum would be here?”
Joey shook his head. “He won’t. Far as he knows, there’s no connection between you and the River Gang.”
“You’re the connection. He met you at the club, remember?” I recalled how Angel had reacted upon hearing Joey’s name. “Maybe he remembers your father.”
“Angel’s not gonna be at the tracks tonight,” Joey said irritably, getting up from the table. “You think he drives his own trucks?” He set his coffee cup in the sink.
“Enzo met you too.”
He spun around. “Enzo won’t be driving the trucks either,” he snapped, his face reddening with anger. “Those two fucking dandies don’t do the heavy lifting. And even if he is there, we’ll have masks on, so he won’t be able to recognize me.”
Masks. Oh, God. “Joey, please let them steal the rum without you. You don’t have to do this gang stuff—you could get a regular job.”
“A regular job?” He said it as if I’d suggested he ingest mustard gas for fun. “A regular job? You know who drives the nice cars in my neighborhood, Tiny? You know who has the fancy clothes, the big bankroll, the nicest houses?”
Of course I did—men with Cadillacs and bodyguards who carried machine guns. Men who had apartments in high-rises. Slick custom suits. Hooded eyes and beautiful lips. “Yes.”
“Well, I’ll be damned if I spend sixty hours a week on an assembly line for a few bucks a day just to make rent. Other schmucks can sweat blood working those jobs, but not me.” The cut on his temple started to bleed. “And you wouldn’t do it either.”
“Yes, I would. It’s honest work. And anyone can make his way up.” Standing, I picked up a clean napkin and reached to dab the blood on his head, but he backed away from my hand.
“Ha. That’s a movie. And here’s the thing about the movies, Tiny. They make you want things.” He poked his chest. “I’m gonna get those things.”
I pitched the napkin onto the table. “You’re gonna end up like your father, Joey! These aren’t toy guns you guys carry around. It’s dangerous!”
“Now who’s treating who like a child?”
I opened my mouth and snapped it shut again.
“I’m sorry you’re scared.” His voice was low but firm. “But I’m going. And whatever I make off the heist tonight, I’ll share with you. You need me to be there.”
My gaze leveled his. “Don’t say you’re doing this for me.”
“I’m not doing this for you.”
I’d sort of hoped he might argue with me.
#
I usually worked for Bridget on Wednesdays since it was Martin’s day off, but when I checked in with her at the store, she said she could get along without me for the day. Something in her expression stopped me from rushing out, though. I waited until the store was clear of shoppers to ask about it.
“What’s with the shifty eyes? Are there cops sniffing around?”
“No.” She chewed her lip as she straightened boxes of chewing gum and penny candy on the counter.
“Then what?”
She faced me. “Where’s Daddy? Has he even called?”
My stomach dropped. “Yeah, last night. He got some work down in Ohio, fixing up cars. I told him he might as well stay and make the money. The girls and I are fine.”
“Joey spent the night at the house, I hear.”
“Yeah. He hurt his head on his car door and thought I’d play nurse for him. I didn’t think he should drive home with the injury. He was feeling dizzy.” Lies were rolling from my tongue like Model T’s off the line.
“I saw his head. Looks like it hurts.” She picked up a dust cloth and began wiping down the wood, eyebrows lifted.
“What, Bridget?”
“Well, one day you can’t stand him, a few days later he’s sleeping at your house with Daddy out of town. If the neighbors saw…”
I rolled my eyes. “Who the hell cares about the neighbors? We’re friends.”
“Last week he was a pain in the ass, now he’s your friend.” She looked up at me out of the corner of one eye. “He’s not the boy you told me about kissing, is he?”
“No!” I shouted. But my cheeks burned as I recalled kissing him on the boat. “He’s Joey, for cryin’ out loud!”
She put her palms up toward me. “OK, OK. If you say so. It’s just that I’ve noticed a difference in him when he talks about you, that’s all.”
“Well, you can forget it. He annoys me just as much as he always has, maybe more. Now if you’re done with the inquisition into my virtue, which I assure you is still intact, I’m going to box up a few groceries for home and run some errands.”
She set the cloth aside and grabbed a box for me, but I felt her watchful eye while I chose some things to bring home. Please, God, let this be over soon, I prayed. The longer Daddy was gone, the harder it was for me to keep the truth from my sisters.
And what the hell did she mean about noticing a difference in the way Joey talks about me?
#
After dropping the food off at home, I went to the bakery to see Evelyn. I felt awful about leaving her behind last night and wanted to make it up to her. She took a break and sat with me at a small wrought iron café table on the sidewalk in front, bringing me a cinnamon bun and cup of coffee. For once the temperature wasn’t so high, and the humidity was down. Sitting out in the sunshine actually felt good. “Thanks. This looks delicious.”
“It is,” she assured me.
I dug in, polishing off the entire bun in a few minutes. “So,” I said, licking the icing from my fingers, “how would you like to go to Club 23 tonight?” I figured I’d have a better chance of staying out
of trouble with Enzo if she was there.
Her face lit up. “Really? I’d love to!”
“Great. Hey, do you want to come over for supper too?”
She looked dubious. “What are you making?”
“Joey’s making spaghetti. He’s giving Molly a cooking lesson, supposedly.”
“Joey cooks?”
“His mother runs a restaurant, so maybe she taught him.” I dotted my finger in the crumbs on my plate and brought them to my mouth. “Hey Evvy, you don’t know anyone that needs any whisky, do you? I’m sitting on forty bottles I need to get rid of.”
“Hmmmm.” She thought for a moment, chewing on her full bottom lip. “You know, the Andersons just picked up a huge order here for their daughter’s wedding. Maybe they need some.”
“Would you…would you mind giving me their phone number or address so I can contact them?” I hated asking her, but I was desperate.
“I’ll do better than that. Mother is pretty friendly with Mrs. Anderson, and I know she’d be glad to do you the favor.”
“Really? Oh, Evelyn! Tell your mother how grateful we are.” I glanced through the front window of the bakery, where Mrs. LaChance was ringing up a customer. “Did Rosie tell you about Daddy?”
“No.” She looked concerned. “Is everything OK?”
I paused. “Can you keep a secret?”
It felt good to confide in Evelyn. I trusted her, and I needed someone besides Joey to tell me things would be all right. Leaving out only the parts where I got romantic with Enzo, I told her everything. Evelyn’s eyes got wider and wider, and finally she grabbed my hand and squeezed, tears filling her eyes. “Oh, Tiny,” she moaned softly. “How awful!”
“It is,” I agreed. “But they promised not to hurt him as long as I got the ransom to them by their deadline.”
She sniffed. “You can do it. I know you can. And I’ll help you.”
“Thanks.”
“I should get back to work, but I’ll call you as soon as I talk to Mother. There might be other parties needing liquor too. Should I ask her?”
Hope flooded my veins. “Yes. Evvy—you’re the best. Thank you.”
#
Evelyn called not two hours after I got home. She said the Andersons would take two cases, and if I’d part with the rest of the bottles for two hundred dollars, her mother would buy them from me and sell them out the back door of the bakery. She was sure she could get rid of them quickly with all the June weddings and parties, and while she didn’t want to go into the bootlegging business, she was glad to do a favor for Daddy just this once.
“Sold,” I said, my heart swelling with gratitude. I went to the boathouse, loaded up, and delivered to the Andersons’ home on Beverly Road as well as the bakery’s back door. With over five hundred dollars in my pocket, I felt almost light-hearted as we drove back to my house.
“I can’t believe I’m going to that club tonight,” Evelyn said, twisting her hands together. “We’ll need to go to my house after supper so I can pick out something to wear. Your clothes aren’t going to fit me.”
“We’ll have time, don’t worry.”
Joey’s car was on the street in front of my house. When we walked in the front door, the aroma that greeted us sent my head spinning. Onions and garlic and tomatoes and sausage and something else—maybe oregano or rosemary? I wasn’t good at identifying herbs, but whatever it was, my stomach groaned in anticipation. In the kitchen, Joey stood with an apron-clad Molly at the stove, watching her stir. “Yeah, break up those tomatoes a little bit. Good.” He looked up when we entered the room. “Hope you’re hungry, girls.”
“Joey, that smells delicious!” said Evelyn. “Can we help you?”
“Why don’t you two put together a salad from the vegetables I brought? They’re in bags on the table.”
“We’d be glad to.” Evelyn smiled at Joey in a way that reminded me of Rosie, and when he turned back to the stove, she looked at me and fanned her face. I rolled my eyes, even though I secretly agreed. There was something very attractive about a man who knew what he was doing in the kitchen. Especially when he looked like Joey.
While Evelyn unpacked the bags, I washed my hands and listened as Joey instructed Molly to get the cinnamon and sugar from the pantry.
“You put cinnamon in spaghetti sauce?” I asked, surprised.
“Yes. And we call it gravy,” he said, swatting my behind with a spatula, “which none of you Irish girls seem to understand.”
I smiled, glad he was back to teasing me. “Gravy goes on meat and potatoes. What you’re making is for noodles, so we call it sauce.” I bumped his hip with mine.
“Noodles!” he exclaimed. “My ma’s homemade mostaccioli ain’t noodles. Do you know what I had to say to get her to let me have some?”
I laughed as I dried my hands. “No, what?”
“Let’s just say I had to make a promise I’m not sure I can keep.”
“About what?”
“Grandchildren.” He shook his head and muttered something in Italian. “And she says she’s gonna light candles for me at church, so if I lied to her, the Virgin Mary will punish me.”
“Then I’ll pray for you.” Crossing myself, I set the towel down and looked at Evelyn, who was watching us with a confused expression on her face. I turned to the cabinets and pulled a large mixing bowl down so she wouldn’t see me blush. “Here, let’s use this for the salad.”
“All right.” Evelyn’s voice was hesitant, as if she felt unsure of herself. “I’ll…I’ll peel the carrots if you want to tear up the lettuce.”
“Sure.” I got to work at the table while she stood at the counter. While I worked I snuck a few glances at Joey’s back as he talked Molly through adding a little red wine—which he’d brought—and then salt, pepper, oregano, basil, cinnamon, and sugar to the sauce. He was fully clothed, of course, but I couldn’t help picturing his back like I’d seen it last night, naked and muscular. As I tossed the lettuce into the bowl, I thought about some girl’s hands clutching at those muscles, maybe sliding down to grip his hips as he moved over her. My face burned and my belly hollowed just thinking of it. I brought my feet primly together. But I wondered…what would that feel like? Would Joey be gentle or rough? What would his skin smell like? Probably garlic and tomatoes tonight. I lowered my face to hide a smile, but when I imagined how he might put his hands on the girl, it slid right off my lips. I didn’t like thinking about his hands on anyone. I didn’t want to know about their capacity for tenderness, or for violence.
Liar.
I looked at him again and found him studying me. He averted his eyes quickly and cleared his throat. “Do you want a glass of wine?”
“Yes. Pour one for Evelyn too. She deserves it for helping me sell forty bottles of whiskey today.” I smiled gratefully at her. “Actually, she practically sold them by herself.”
“Yeah?” Joey smiled as he handed her a tumbler of wine. “Good for you.”
Evelyn’s cheeks pinkened. “It was nothing.”
Joey poured two more and handed one to me. “Salut.” Lifting his glass, he leaned toward me and spoke low. “Here’s to a big night.”
We tipped our glasses, eyes on one another.
Chapter Twelve
We ate by candlelight, with an ivory linen tablecloth underneath matching plates and the radio playing softly in the front room. The meal was delicious, and I was more ravenous than I’d been in weeks, maybe months. The wine took the edge off my nerves, but I kept finding it difficult not to look at Joey, who sat across from me. I’d never noticed how long his eyelashes were, or the sweet way he closed his eyes during grace before meals.
That is the wine talking. Eat your goddamn dinner and get upstairs.
But I could have sworn I caught him looking at me once or twice too.
When everyone had finished, the girls and Evelyn started on the dishes while I said goodbye to Joey. “Be careful tonight,” I told him at the door. “And let me know as soon a
s you can how everything went.”
“You be careful too. I know he’s good-looking, Tiny, but he’s one of them.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Look who’s talking. I don’t need any lectures from you, pal. Except maybe on cooking.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” He pulled his cap from his back pocket and slapped my shoulder with it before setting it on his head. “See you.”
I watched him jog to his car and said a quick prayer for his safety.
#
When the dishes were done, Evelyn and I went up to my bedroom so I could change. “Tiny, what the hell?” she burst out as soon as we shut the door.
“What?” From my closet I took out the blue dress, holding it at arm’s length to check for wrinkles.
“You and Joey, that’s what!” She plopped down on my bed. “It’s completely obvious.”
I pressed the dress to my body and looked in the mirror over my dresser. My cheeks were flushed from the wine. “There is no me and Joey.”
“Yet.”
“Ever.”
She looked at me in the mirror. “Why not? He’s gorgeous. He’s sweet. He cooks.”
Because I’ve already had my hands on another gangster’s cock. “Mmmm, supper was good, wasn’t it? I don’t remember when I’ve eaten so much.”
“Yes, it was, although I don’t know how you two got any eating done the way you kept stopping to stare at each other.”
I turned to her, lowering the dress. “Evelyn, stop it. I’m not interested in Joey.”
“You think you’re not, but I know you. You are.” She crossed her arms, watching me lay the dress on the bed. “And I think you should do it.”
“Do what?” I opened a dresser drawer and began pulling out my undergarments.
“You know what. I would.”
I glanced at her over my shoulder. “So you do it.”
She sighed. “I would do it with him in a heartbeat if I thought he was interested. But he’s only got eyes for you.”
“You’re mistaken.” I lifted my black stockings from the drawer. “We can hardly stand each other. And besides, I’ve got eyes for someone else right now.” I held up my step-in and gave it a little shake. “Someone who knows what I wear underneath that blue dress.”
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