“You’re absolutely right. I’m jealous of how the guys in town spend their checks every Friday and Saturday night buying enough alcohol to pour down your throat, all so they can bend you over the bar and each takes a turn at you. I’m so jealous of the lifestyle you live, being the first Miller woman in Middleton history not to hold the crown of Cotton Queen, because your dress split down the middle when you bent over. I lose sleep at night because I’m so jealous you get to spend the rest of your life questioning what in the heck Jonah does with all his money, when he constantly comes begging you for a loan. Most of all, I’m so jealous of how you will spend day after day wondering if today is the day I walk back into town, only to be disappointed every night when you crawl into bed...alone.”
“I won't—” Grace started but was cut off by the smirk which colored Kristine’s face.
“I have never, nor will I ever be, jealous of you. Especially not your relationship with Jonah. Any man who disrespects the woman who fed him and gave him a place to stay when he needed it, by not attending her funeral or paying his respects is not a good man. No matter how many times you say it.”
For the first time in a long while, Kristine put one foot in front of the other and left the Coop without an ounce of exhaustion or dread as to what was waiting for her. Jonah was Grace’s problem, and Lord forgive her if she didn’t toss back her head in laughter as she shut the trunk of her Chevy at the thought.
“You know, Kristine. You will always have a job at the Coop in case things don’t work out as you planned.” Mr. Cullison spoke from behind the wheel of his truck. His eyes remained on the road, but his words were sincere.
“I appreciate it, Mr. Cullison, but I don’t plan on coming back. Not with Granny gone.” Kristine’s voice cracked as she spoke the latter, her attention remaining on the fields as they made their way to the airport.
“Can’t say as I blame ya,” Cullison admitted, having believed as long as he’d known Kristine she didn’t belong in their one-horse town.
After Kristine broke the news to Rose, who tried to talk her into turning down the job, she recruited Mr. Cullison and Mr. Parker from across the street to help her clean out the house and settle Granny’s accounts. It didn’t take much, a garage sale and two truckloads to the donation center in Grady County and the house keys were returned to Mr. Cullison. She sold her Chevy to Mr. Tinker for five hundred dollars, the antique something the older gentleman had had his eye on for some time. What wasn’t sold or donated, was thrown in the trash, which wasn’t much.
Kristine held the email which contained the confirmation number of her flight and hotel along with her state ID as she waited her turn in line at the ticket counter. She’d tried to argue with Mr. Vitale after he originally sent the information, but he held firm, claiming both the plane ticket and accommodations were part of the company’s sign-on bonus.
“Next.”
Jumping slightly, Kristine proceeded to the counter where a middle-aged woman with thick black glasses greeted her.
“Good morning. Where are we headed today?”
“New York City,” Kristine confirmed with pride, laced with a ton of nervousness.
“Is this your first time going to New York?”
“First time flying,” she admitted, handing over the paper and her ID.
“How exciting. Are you going for business or pleasure?”
“Both, I guess.” Kristine surmised as she hoped to explore everything the city had to offer.
The woman kept her smile intact, her red lipstick shimmering from the lights of the screen as she typed away on her keyboard. “How many bags are we traveling with today?”
“Two,” Kristine cringed as she lifted the first one onto the scale. She’d visited the airline's website and was all too familiar with the cost per bag. Packing as little as she could, she forced herself to bring only the clothing she could comfortably wear in an office, the majority of her jeans finding their way to the donation box. As the woman wrapped a label around the second bag and tossed it to the conveyer belt behind her, she handed Kristine a stack of papers instead of asking for money.
“Gate A-17, you will board with group one. Enjoy your stay in New York.”
“But my bags,” Kristine began, afraid of the repercussions of her failure to pay. “The webpage mentioned a fee for the second bag.”
“Yes, Ms. Smith, with our economy and economy plus passengers there is. However, the fee is waived with our first-class passengers.”
Kristine sheepishly thanked the woman, tugging her purse strap higher on her shoulder and heading in the direction of security.
A few hours later, Kristine followed the line of her fellow passengers as they made their way down the walkway toward baggage claim. As Kristine rounded a corner, she found several eager people waiting to receive their loved ones, and a man dressed in a black suit, holding an iPad with her name scrolled across the face.
Cautiously approaching the older gentleman, “I’m Kristine Smith.”
The man took a hard look at her before tipping his hat. “Afternoon, Ms. Smith. I’m Niko, I work for the Vitale Family.” Motioning toward the baggage claim area, “Let’s collect your bags and I will take you to your hotel.”
“Thank you, Mr. Niko, that’s quite generous of you.”
Kristine followed Niko to the carousel with her flight number flashing overhead. Her bags were among the first to emerge, and as she reached for the handle, Niko stepped in front of her, pulling the bag from the belt with ease.
“This one yours?” Niko pointed to the second, heavier bag.
“Yes, but I can—"
Before she could finish her sentence, Niko had the bag off the belt and was pointing at another silently questioning if it belonged to her.
“No,” she shook her head, “Just the two.”
Niko took a step back, appraising the tiny girl with a scrutinizing eye. “You moved halfway across the country and you only have two bags?”
Not caring for the tone of Niko’s voice, Kristine felt the overwhelming need to justify herself. “I didn’t plan on having a driver waiting, so two bags were the maximum I felt comfortable handling.”
Niko appreciated the tenacity of the young lady. “Not to worry, Ms. Smith. By the time you have an apartment, two bags might hold your purses.”
The ride from the airport felt as if it took an eternity. Kristine sat on the edge of her seat as Niko drove through congested traffic, weaving the fancy car in and out of some of the tightest spots Kristine had ever witnessed. As the sun skirted across the horizon, Niko pulled the car alongside the curb of what she assumed was her hotel. Kristine craned her neck to take in the grandeur of the building with its many flags from various countries whipping in the cold February breeze. Kristine had never seen a building so tall, outside of the hospital, and even it was only three stories. The buildings before her seemed to reach the clouds.
A uniform wearing man opened her door as Niko came around the front of the car, pressing something between his fingers causing the trunk of the car to open. The man in uniform greeted her as she stepped from the back seat, while large flakes of snow danced around her as she stood on the sidewalk, the sounds of the city welcoming her.
“You’re in room fifteen-oh-three,” Niko informed her as he handed her the gold card. “This will provide you with anything you want such as room service or spa treatments.” Nodding in the direction of the man holding her bags, “This young man will see you to your room. And before I forget, Nina asked you give her a call once you’re settled.”
“Thank you, Mr. Niko.”
“You’re welcome, Ms. Smith, although it’s just Niko.”
“Of course, Niko, and its Kristine. I have a feeling we will see much more of one another.”
Niko watched as the young woman walked with confidence into the front entrance of the Waldorf. Either this Kristine had balls of steel or was one of the best con-artists he’d ever met. His gut told him the former was true.
Pulling out his cell, Niko slipped back behind the wheel of the car, the phone ringing twice before connecting.
“Just dropped off the girl Sully hired, and I have the information you requested.”
“And?”
Niko smirked as he stole a place in traffic. “She isn’t a plant, I can tell you with confidence, but…” Niko drifted off, not sure how to present the next piece of information. “There is something about her you should know.”
Kristine’s first morning in New York City presented itself as gloomy and overcast, snow from yesterday was but a memory. From the bundled-up pedestrians on the sidewalk, she knew the bitter temperatures had remained. After the bellman left last night, Kristine allowed her inner five-year-old to lead the way in tossing her body in the center of the luxurious bed and bouncing like an idiot. When she called Nina, the two squealed like toddlers and made plans for breakfast as Nina had a prior obligation last night. Kristine ordered room service and then filled the enormous tub up with hot water and bubbles, where she stayed and watched a fight live from Las Vegas.
Glancing at the clock on the fireplace mantel, Kristine grabbed her coat and the gold card Niko gave her last night, heading downstairs to meet Nina.
As Kristine entered the lobby, a black, flashy car pulled alongside the curb forcing several people to jump out of the way in order to avoid being hit. Kristine slipped into her coat, making her way to the door as Nina flirted shamelessly with an older gentleman who’d emerged from an equally impressive car.
“Krissy!” Nina shouted, rounding the front of the car, the man she’d been talking to forgotten.
“Nina,” Kristine closed her eyes and engulfed her friend in a hug. Nina was about her height, skinnier by a few pounds, but it was her well-endowed chest that created the biggest issue in the pair getting close. Long hair, blonde from the roots to about three-quarters down, the bleached color fading into black tips. She was in full makeup despite the early Sunday hour, eyelashes thick and long and definitely not real. Her skin was tan despite the lack of sun, teeth straight and impossibly white. Her fur-covered boots matched the vest she wore, both looking so soft Kristine fought hard not to reach out and touch them.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Nina raved, pushing Kristine back so she could have a good look at her. Dark hair and the bluest eyes Nina had ever seen stared back at her. She was skinnier than she thought but contributed that to the pounds the camera adds. Clear skin, practically flawless, with not a stitch of makeup to be seen. Excitement filled her chest at the raw canvas she had before her. It would take a little work, and begging for a few dollars from Sully, but Nina felt confident she could make Kristine look as if she belonged.
“Come on, I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday and I’m starving.”
Kristine may be a subject expert on spreadsheets and ledgers, but she knew next to nothing about cars. However, the smell of leather, dancing horse and iconic name stamped on the emblem of the steering wheel told her the car was expensive. She listened as Nina chatted about the best places to shop and where to avoid, of how to tell a fake designer purse from the real one, all while driving as crazy as Niko had.
Several minutes and bridge crossings later, Kristine’s eyes grew wide as she saw a sign welcoming her to New Jersey. Moments later, Nina whipped the car onto a secondary road, pulling alongside a brick building with a line of people waiting to gain entry.
Nina threw the car in park as a leather jacket-wearing man stood from a seat inside the restaurant, rounded the front of the car and opened Nina’s door. She left the car running, tugging a purse which was nearly as big as she was, from behind the seat.
“I hope you have a granola bar in that bag of yours,” Kristine teased. “Looks as if we’ll be waiting for a while.” Motioning to the line behind her.
“Not when you know the owner.” Nina tossed over her shoulder, bypassing the line as if it didn’t exist. Kristine sprinted to catch up, thanking the young man who held the door open for them as she followed Nina into the crowded restaurant.
Kristine watched as Nina greeted practically every table they passed, kissing the cheeks of several older men and the much younger women sitting beside them. Sliding into an empty booth, two plates of food were placed in front of them, a cup of coffee for Nina.
“You remembered.”
“Your aversion to coffee?”
“Yes, I’m surprised you remembered.”
“Don’t be, I have a photographic memory. Its why our boss keeps me around.”
A rumbling of laughter sounded behind them causing Kristine to look over her shoulder at the table of men.
“Speaking of bosses, Kristine. There are a few things you have to know about working for the Vitale’s before tomorrow.”
“Oh?” Kristine returned her attention to Nina, not comfortable with the warning tone of her voice.
“Rule number one; no matter what you see, keep your mouth shut. Two, and this is the most important, no matter how many times you see it on paper, never call Gino by his given name.”
“Is it a terrible name?” Kristine whispered, leaning over top of her untouched food.
“No,” Nina mumbled over a bite of eggs. Her tone gave Kristine the understanding this was all that would be said on the matter, making Kristine's curiosity pop off the charts. She would wait and see for herself what the big deal was.
“So, are you excited about tomorrow?”
Nodding her head, “And a little nervous. Is there a dress code I need to worry about?”
“Not really, most everyone dresses like me.”
Kristine’s brow furrowed in concern. She didn’t have the kind of wardrobe Nina possessed; the selections available to her were much more conservative.
Sensing her despair, Nina reached across the table, placing her hand on top of Kristine's. “You don’t have to worry about clothes. The guys,” nodding to the loud table behind them. “Take care of us; makeup, jewelry, clothing, anything we want. You’ll have a new wardrobe in no time. Sully will more than likely have a car and the address of your apartment tomorrow. Until then, sit back and enjoy the last few hours of the weekend.”
A little over an hour later, the two walked out of the restaurant, faces split with a genuine smile and their stomachs full. As they waited for Nina’s car, Kristine took a look at the businesses around her; a florist shop across the street, a deli next to it, but it’s the lettering of the gym next door which grabbed her attention and held it, or rather the chiseled man running on the treadmill just beyond the glass. Kristine licked her lips as her eyes followed the beads of sweat traveling down his naked chest, passing a gold crucifix and disappearing into the band of his athletic shorts. Dark hair, the same shade as hers, bounced with each step he took. A smattering of facial hair along his chin gave him a certain edge she’d always found sexy. His movements were mesmerizing, not even the roar of Nina’s car engine was enough to pull her attention away. As if sensing he’s being watched, the man shifted his focus to her. Several things happened at once, Nina sounded her horn as the man on the treadmill stepped wrong, nearly falling off the moving belt. Embarrassed at being caught staring, Kristine ducked into the safety of Nina’s car, shutting the door with too much gusto as she pulled away from the curb, tires screeching in protest.
8
Gino shoved his key into the lock of one of the condos he owned, opening the door wide before stepping inside. The scent of Nina’s perfume overwhelmed him as he walked through the foyer and into the living room, cursing under his breath he stepped over discarded shoes and clothes. He moved her into this particular condo shortly after purchasing it, needing the nosy neighbors to see a young professional come and go so they wouldn’t suspect anything was amiss. Nina was gorgeous enough to turn the heads of the old men in the building, yet sweet enough to fool the rich widows who had nothing better to do than peek out their doors and windows.
Laying his hand on the wood panel of the wall outside of the kitchen, his mind
drifted back to the woman he saw getting into Nina’s car this morning. Gino suspected this was the young woman Sully spoke of and Niko rattled on about for two hours last night after he’d dropped her off at the Waldorf. Despite the glowing review and squeaky-clean record, Sully claimed the girl had, Gino would keep an eye on her until Niko could prove the accusations he tossed at him last night.
Pushing the faux wall to the side, Gino dropped the bag from his shoulder to the floor, twisting the dial of his safe in the correct sequence to open the door. Once inside, he wasted little time counting and placing the money he needed for his meeting later into the leather satchel.
One of Nina’s many qualities, at least in Gino’s opinion, was how predictable she was. Even without calling to check, he knew she was sitting in a chair at Mia Bella, getting either her nails or hair done. Most likely, based on how rough he’d fucked her the other night, both.
Lifting the bag onto his shoulder, Gino turned to leave when he caught sight of Nina’s home office and the papers teetering off the edge of her printer. Normally he would have ignored them, unwilling to drudge through her clutter to investigate. Today, however, he saw what looked to be a map, and his curiosity got the better of him. Stepping over discarded bed sheets and a bag of trash, Gino nearly tripped over a pile of dirty clothing when the leg of one of her panties caught on his shoe. Righting himself, he glanced at the colorful page on top, a map of the Flat Bush area with several red indicator dots scattered about. Studying the map, Gino recognized two of the locations as property belonging to his brother Sully but had no clue what the other five were. Pulling out his phone, Gino snapped a photo of the map, his meeting later would take him past one of the unfamiliar sites.
Gino tossed the leather bag onto the table, his gaze locked with Stavros, the leader of the Greek Family. One of his men unzipped the top, quickly counting the cash inside, nodding his head in affirmation and lifting the bag from the table. A cold wind chills Gino to the bone as the door at the back of the room opens up, allowing a forklift with a massive crate to drive in.
Leave Me Breathless: The Black Rose Collection Page 7