Harmony

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Harmony Page 26

by Sienna Mynx


  “Promise me,” he said firmly.

  He seemed to relax a bit. He let go a long sigh and slumped back. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  “No. Wait.”

  She put her hand to his chest and moved over to straddle his lap. He held to her hips as she stared down into his haggard, yet handsome face. He hadn’t shaven in days. She touched his jaw and savored the feel of his prickly stubble brush over her fingers. “I love you Vinnie. I don’t want this to be our goodbye, but if it is, then there is something you can give me.”

  “Name it.”

  “I don’t want money, I only want you.”

  “Harmony….”

  “Wait. If I can’t have you then I need a part of you. The painting. Let me take something you made…” she dropped her head to his brow and swallowed hard. He rubbed her back. “Don’t send me away.”

  “I’ll have a painting brought to your car. Take as many as you can fit in the trunk. Okay. Shhh, stop, look at me.” He lifted her chin and smiled up at her. “C’mon, Doll. This ain’t the end of us. I’ll always be with you.” He touched her belly with his hand. “I made sure of it.”

  She nearly released a gust of laughter. She shook her head smiling and hugged him. He held her while she remained firmly seated on his lap. It seemed like the embrace went on forever, but when he tried to stand she realized how short their goodbye was.

  “Let’s go babe,” he said assisting her. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and accepted his hand. Vinnie drew her to his chest one final time and kissed her sweetly before releasing her. He collected the things he had for her, including the map, and she accepted the money and bonds shoving all of it down in her satchel. He lifted her chin and kissed her once more.

  “Paulette here?” He asked nuzzling her hair.

  “Yes. The car is packed. We’re all set to go.”

  “Not quite.” He walked her out. One of the few men that remained loyal to them waited in the hall. He told him to go to the cabin and collect the paintings, to put them in the car. Harmony remained silent at his side.

  He’d gotten her a new car. Paulette sat in the front seat and Willie was stretched comfortably in the back.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too. Always, Songbird.”

  “Always.”

  She turned and walked down the steps to the car, passing her satchel to her friend. The man hurried back with three paintings. She didn’t care which ones he chose. For Harmony this would not be their end. She had another in mind. He stood there smirking and for a minute she thought he knew her plans.

  “You look as stubborn as you did the first night I brought you here.”

  “I am.” She winked, then blew him a kiss and forced herself to get in the car. Driving away was the hardest thing she’d ever done. She bit hard on the inside of her jaw to hold back the tears.

  “You okay?” Paulette asked.

  “I will be.” Harmony said, her lips pressed into a thin line.

  Romano watched until they disappeared off his land. He returned inside and dropped in his chair. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. Seeing her leave was harder than he imagined. Sitting forward he’d placed his face in his hands. A soft groan escaped him. The tension in his body was so tight.

  “Boss?”

  “Not now.”

  “I have to ask.”

  “Don’t. It’s done.” He lifted his face from his hands. “Antonio cost me too much, he won’t cost me Harmony. We see this through and when it’s over everyone gets what they deserve. I’ll be ready in an hour to see what you brought in. Make sure everyone else is.”

  Ignacio nodded and turned to walk out. Romano pushed up from the chair. He walked over to his phonograph and picked up his favorite record. Harmony sang the song for him on their first night together. Dropping the needle on the vinyl disc he exhaled. Everyone has to make sacrifices. It was time he made his. “For you, Songbird.”

  ***

  “I won’t do it!” Willie said stubbornly. He wore a suit she’d taken from Antonio’s closet since his clothes had blood on them. He looked older, more like his own man, and it made her proud of him. Paulette stood at his side, the tail of her coat flapped behind her. The wind gusts were stronger on this end of the tracks and they still felt winter’s last bite as it washed over them.

  “You will do it. In all the time I’ve sacrificed and loved you unconditionally I’ve never asked you for a thing. Nothing. This you will do for me.”

  “Will you talk some sense into her thick skull? She talking crazy. No way this plan of hers will work. She’ll get herself killed.”

  Paulette turned her sympathetic gaze back to Harmony. “He has a point suga. Vinnie Romano’s a walking dead man. I doubt they’ll help you save him.”

  The train’s whistle blared, drowning out the rest of Paulette’s warning. Harmony reached in her satchel and collected the money she’d peeled off for her brother. He stared at her curious, not sure what she was doing. Discreetly she pushed the wad of bills on him. Paulette’s eyes stretched seeing the exchange. “It’s time for you to be your own man. Here’s a thousand dollars. Go to Chicago, hell maybe after you feel better you can head south, or go wherever you want and be who you are. On your terms Willie.”

  He shoved the money in his pocket glancing around to see if anyone was watching. “Where did you get this kind of money? Romano? It’s dangerous for you to walk around with this money sis. Come with me.”

  “I belong with him. Don’t you see that now? You of all people should know we can’t help who we love, only the choices we make. I’ve made mine. Paulette agreed to go with you. It’s why we chose Chicago. I’ll be in touch in a day or so. Send you a wire of where I am and more money if I can. Just go.”

  Paulette touched Willie’s arm. “She’s going to do this suga. I suggest you listen to her.”

  The whistle blew again.

  Harmony pressed two hundred dollars in Paulette’s hands. Her friend promised to see her brother settled in and to make sure he recovered well before they parted. Paulette picked up Willie’s suitcase and hooked her arm around his good one. The other was in a homemade sling. Harmony leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you baby-boy. Always.”

  Their parting tore at her resolve. She knew he had a point. What she planned could very well get her killed. This could be the last time she saw him. Willie’s eyes glistened with closely held tears. He blinked them away and managed a small smile. “I’m sorry sis, for everything.”

  “Let’s go suga, we’ll miss the train.” Paulette said.

  Harmony nodded for them to do so. He reluctantly let Paulette help him. He boarded the steps, paused and looked back at her. Then they disappeared in the train car. Harmony wiped her tears away and turned. She headed for her car. The Johnny Ringo remained tucked deep in her satchel, but she needed to get somewhere to count the money and stash the bond before she saw part two of her plan through.

  ***

  Red Hots was located off 125 and 7 Avenue. The place looked no different than the market to its left and the Chinese laundry to the right. But at night Seventh Avenue was bumper-to-bumper with Negroes dressed in their finest and trying to get through its doors. Harmony closed the door to her car and stared up at the sign. She’d never been inside. Lewis would come home drunk many nights from this place. When Paulette told her Madame St. Clair and Grease Man would only meet at this place she knew the gamble would be great.

  “Hmm, something smells sweet this morning.” Came a long drawl from behind her. Her gaze shifted from the sign to the man now standing to her left on the sidewalk. Flat unsmiling eyes pinned her. “Waiting for someone, sweet thang?”

  The stranger was taller than most men, but very thin. He wore a deep purple suit with a bright red tie. His wide brim hat was purple with red trim. He shifted the toothpick in his mouth and she caught the gleam of a shiny tooth that looked to be golden. Living in Harlem and working the jazz scene she’d run into this
kind of man before, a street pimp that hustled girls into selling their bodies for him. His gaze was sharp and assessing like that of a cobra. She eased her hand inside her satchel and held to the Johnny Ringo. “I have a meeting with Madame St. Clair.”

  “Harmony right?”

  “Yes.”

  “I knew your old man. Lewis.” His sly grin spread across his face. His skin was so dark the whites of his eyes were quite startling when they stretched in recognition. “Queenie waiting to see you. Come with me.”

  She sucked in a brave breath and followed him to the door. He pounded on it and after a pause it opened. The darkness beyond made her stomach quiver with nerves. Paulette left The Cotton after her call and raced down to Red Hot’s to make the request for this meeting for her. According to her friend, Madame St. Clair was pretty pissed at Willie for selling her stolen booze. Paulette warned Harmony that the meeting would be on the mob boss’s terms, so if she entered to an ambush no one but her brother and friend knew she was here. She just had to keep her wits about her and stay on guard.

  “So? You going in or what?” The pimp asked her.

  “Yes.” She walked inside the musty, narrow corridor and descended a flight of stairs. The burn of oils, cigarettes, and spicy cooked meet singed her nose and burned her eyes. The club was pretty small with a low hanging ceiling. Lighting was either focused on the stage or relegated to the bar and the candles on the table, which made it harder to see. She scanned the bar to the left and saw several men seated, both black and white. She had heard of Madame St. Clair’s band of Forty Thieves, and didn’t believe a black woman could run a gang of white men. But there was no black woman wielding as much power and control in Harlem, New York as the revered Madame St. Clair.

  “Keep moving.” She received a gentle pat to her backside, and cringed at the unwanted touch. There was a stage to the back and a few tables and seats around a hardwood dance floor. It was only a third of the size of The Cotton. Still she knew for a fact some of Harlem’s elite dined and performed there.

  “Bring her here cherie!” A sweet Caribbean voice called over to them. Harmony’s gaze swung to the right. The woman those on the streets referred to as Queenie sat waiting. Seated inside the circular booth with her were two men. The man to her left had a deep tan, and dark black hair oiled back from his face. He looked like the Sicilians that frequented The Cotton. He leaned forward with his elbows resting on the table, hands clasped. He had severe dark brows over clear blue eyes that made his stare cold and unreadable. On the other side of Madame St. Clair was a black man. He wore a dark suit and his skin was a deep chestnut. He sort of leaned back into the booth seat with his arm thrown over the back, slouching. A cigarette was pressed to his lips and he drew hard making the end burn bright orange. He exhaled a cloud of smoke removing the cigarette and his features were shielded in the milky wave. Still, Harmony knew it had to be the infamous Grease Man she had heard Lewis and Milo often speak of. She’d never seen him in person but his presence was felt as was Madame St. Clair’s.

  Harmony swallowed hard and walked toward them. Her legs were stiff but her back was straight. “Madame St. Clair, thank you for seeing me.”

  The woman snorted, in disgust. Now before her, she could see her clearly. She had beautiful skin, like warmed honey and a colorful head wrap that contained a wealth of dark curls. Harmony guessed her age to be mid-thirties, but she could easily pass for ten years younger. Lewis said she was French, and from the part of the Caribbean where blacks were quite wealthy. Madame St. Clair carried an air of superiority. “You got a lot guts coming to see me cherie. Don’t you know what your brother has done?”

  “I do.”

  “Still you stand here, unrepentant?”

  “No ma’am. That’s not it at all. I am repentant, and I intend to make up for what he’s done.”

  The white man chuckled. “Give her to me Queenie, I have some ideas how she can work it off. I hear she’s fond of Sicilians.”

  Harmony held her tongue but she cut the bastard a warning glare. The idea formed after the fight with Vinnie and their subsequent lovemaking in his office. He had confessed it all. What Antonio had done, how the old Dons had turned their backs on him because of the messy turf war and his taking up with a black woman. All of it. He even told her a few things she didn’t know about Madame St. Clair and her thirst for power and control over Harlem. So she directed her answer to the woman who controlled the snakes slithering around her. “I’m not a whore, or a thief.”

  “That’s not what I hear cherie. I hear you done took to sleeping with a dead man. As his jezebel.”

  The men at the bar snickered, so did the Sicilian sitting next to Madame. Grease however didn’t. He continued to watch her with a steady gaze. Harmony felt her courage soften and the sharp edge of fear pierce her gut. She felt her knees go weak but she tried to keep her focus. “Whatever I am or ain’t, shouldn’t be of your concern. I’m here to make amends. That’s the purpose of this visit between me and you.”

  “And what you giving up to Vinnie Romano.” The Sicilian spat.

  “Something you’ll never get.” She shot back.

  Queenie let go a rambunctious peal of laughter. Harmony waited until the humor faded from her eyes. She reached in her satchel to bring her deal to the table but froze. Immediately she felt the business end of a revolver press into the back of her head. “I’m not going for my weapon.”

  “Put it on the table all the same.” The man said to her. Harmony reached inside and removed the Johnny Ringo. It hurt to even reveal the gun to them. It was Vinnie’s gift to her, and the only thing that she carried that gave her faith that she could help him. The hoodlum behind her snatched it from her hand. “Holy shit. Man, you see this. Bitch has a Ringo? Fuck. Wanted one of these.”

  “I want it back when I leave.”

  “Who says you leaving?” The Sicilian snickered.

  Harmony ignored him. She addressed Queenie. “My brother owes you a debt, and I mean no disrespect in thinking I can set a price for it. But it is indeed what I intend to do.”

  “How much?” Queenie asked.

  “Three thousand dollars.” Harmony put the money on the table. Grease Man sat upright out of his slouch and a silence fell over the room.

  “Where the hell you get that kind of money Jazz Singer?”

  All eyes went to her. “Is it enough? To repay my brother’s debt?”

  Queenie narrowed her eyes on her. She glanced over to Grease who counted out the money. He nodded that it was three thousand dollars. Queenie nodded. “Consider it paid.”

  Harmony let go a deep sigh. “Thank you. I wanted that business cleared up so I could uh, ask for, uh, request… I came to...”

  “Spit it out!” Queenie shouted.

  “I want you to save Vincenzio Romano. I’m willing to pay for you to do so.”

  “You ain’t got enough money for that.” Grease’s voice commanded equal authority as Queenie’s. The glare he fixed her with would have made her a believer. She refused to give in that easily.

  “I have seven thousand dollars.” She removed the money and placed it on the table. “And after it’s done I have the other three thousand hid. Is that enough money?”

  “Everybody be quiet.” Queenie leaned forward. “What’s to keep me from taking that money from you right now bitch?”

  “Honor, respect. I showed you respect by coming here and paying the debt my brother owed first. I’m showing it to you now by offering the money up front to save him. I think you want Harlem, well those Sicilians are trying to take it from you.” She cut the man to Queenie’s left a nasty glare, making sure her point was plain. “Antonio Romano is dead and the cover of protection he gave you from the cops is over. The war could spill on to the street, your streets. If you were to strike back and send a message to Luciano wouldn’t that make you truly the Queen?”

  Her words took on a life on their own as they lingered and lengthened the silence between her and these evil
people. Harmony seized on the silence. She tried again to get through to the woman who could end her life at any moment.

  “Helping me save his life sends the kind of message you need to. Vincenzio never stole from you Queenie. He never moved in on Harlem. His brother is dead for what he dragged you and my brother into. And I’m offering ten thousand dollars to get the Romano’s out of Harlem for good.”

  “Syl, take her to the back while I discuss this with the boys.”

  “Wait!” Harmony stepped forward. The Sicilian however eased out of the booth ready to seize her. “My time is short. I don’t know how long…”

  “I’ve heard enough of your mouth bitch. Get your ass to the back and we’ll let you know how this goes down.” Queenie sneered at her. The gentle lovely features she possessed when she smiled disappeared into the threatening scowl she leveled at Harmony. The plan wasn’t working and she had to think of something to do quick.

 

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