Mick Sinatra: Needing Her Again

by Mallory Monroe

  Mick tossed the first gunman’s dead weight off of him, got off of that kitchen floor, grabbed his gun that had been dislodged from his hand, and ran to his son’s aid. He ran through that living room, and down that hall. But, to his horror, the gunfire had already ceased by the time he ran into the room at the end of the hall.

  “Teddy!” he yelled as he ran into that room. Let him be alright, Lord, he was praying as he ran into that room, his heart barely able to handle it.

  He saw Teddy, lying on his back, his gun still smoking, as that second gunman was lying on that floor too. But the gunman was dead.

  “I’m okay, Pop!” Teddy made clear, breathing heavily.

  And Mick leaned against the door, both of his hands still on his own gun, as he was finally able to breathe again.

  “Recognize either one of’em?” Teddy asked.

  Mick nodded. “Yes.”

  Teddy was surprised. “Who are they?”

  “I don’t know their names.”

  “But you know who they work for?”

  Mick hesitated. “Yes.”

  “Who, Pop?”

  Mick let out a long exhale. “Randazzo,” he said.

  Teddy was stunned. It was the same name Pauley Jay had given. The same name Mick had said couldn’t possibly be involved.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Billy Lancer held onto Roz with his eyes tightly shut. She felt even better than he had dreamed she would feel. Her wonderful perfumed scent. Her smooth, bone-thin back. The way her arms felt around him. The way her sweet breath felt against his face. The way his penis began to enlarge just by holding her. But he knew then he had to pull back.

  “Oh, Roz, it is so wonderful to see you again,” he said happily. “And you look lovely.” The understatement of the year, he thought.

  “You too,” Roz said and they laughed. But Roz wasn’t kidding. Billy Lancer was always the best looking guy in the room with his tall, slender frame and his tanned face and boyishly good looks. “It doesn’t look like you aged a day in twenty years, Billy!”

  “Oh, don’t let this face fool you,” he said as Roz began walking behind her desk. “I’m ancient!”

  Roz laughed.

  That ass, Billy thought as he stared at that ass as she walked away from him. That tight, beautiful ass he used to dream about, was still as potent-looking as ever and moving side to side like she knew what gift it was to mankind. After Nat died, he used to think about Roz and would imagine Mick Sinatra pounding on that ass night after night after night. They said Sinatra had a ferocious sexual appetite, and by all accounts Roz was the only object of his affection. Which was shocking to most. But not to Billy. Before Nat died, she had been the only object of his affection too.

  But the more he used to think about Roz with Sinatra, the more it became too painful for him to deal with. Because then he thought about Mick the Tick, so he left it alone. But now that the plan was in full force and he was able to hold her in his arms, he was able to imagine himself doing the pounding.

  “Sit down, please,” Roz said as she stood behind her desk. “If you have time.”

  “I only have a couple minutes,” Billy lied. “I have a plane to catch. My own,” he added, and Roz smiled. And he immediately regretted saying it. Roz was married to Sinatra. Having his own plane wasn’t going to mean shit to her. Her husband had his own plane and her husband’s corporation had their own planes. He had to remind himself to remember he wasn’t trying to impress some starlet. He had to remember to never try to impress Roz. She was too savvy for that. She’d see right through that. Keep it professional, Billy boy, he reminded himself.

  “I’m so sorry about Natalie,” Roz said as she sat down too. “I am so sorry for your loss. She was a great actress, and seemingly a fantastic person all around. The world mourns with you.”

  “Thank you, Roz. I miss her, that’s absolutely true. She was a wonderful wife.” But he had to remain focused. “But one thing about Nat,” he added, “she always believed in moving on. Don’t wallow, that was her motto. I’m trying my best to live that way too.”

  “By moving on?”

  “Yes! Life is too short. I’m not spending whatever remaining days I have living in the past. Natalie would hate that. I’m moving on.” Lie upon lie, he thought.

  “Speaking of the past,” Roz said, “it’s been so long since I last saw you, Billy, I’m amazed I’m seeing you right now.”

  “It’s been too long,” Billy said as he crossed his legs and sat more sideways than straight up. The complete opposite, Roz thought, of how Mick always sat in a chair. Mick crossed his legs, but he was always sitting straight-back and straight-up. He always presented more as a businessman than a gangster, an image Mick cultivated. Roz wondered what image was Billy trying to cultivate because, she knew, everybody had an angle.

  “I remember when you and I were so poor we had to split one lunch,” Billy said, and they both laughed. “Those high-and-mighty waitresses used to look at us and shake their heads, like we were stealing food just because we were sharing. It was crazy on Broadway in those days. Just the sheer arrogance of some of those people.”

  “Oh, the arrogance is still there.”

  “It’s still there, Roz?”

  “It’s still there. It’s not going anywhere, trust me.”

  Billy stared at her. “What happened?” he asked her.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your husband won’t let you do it anymore?”

  Roz was confused. “What are you talking about? He won’t let me do what anymore?”

  “Work! Roz, do you realize you weren’t in anything this past Broadway season? I checked. I’ve always followed your career, at least lately. What happened?”

  Roz exhaled. “Nothing happened. I just stopped getting roles.”

  Billy’s eyes widened. “You’re pulling my leg!”

  Roz smiled. “I’m not kidding, Billy.”

  “Do you mean to tell me that you, Roz Graham, one of the best actresses on stage today, can’t get work?”

  “I can get work if I’m willing to play those good old mammy roles, which I absolutely am not willing to play.”

  “Damn right,” Billy agreed.

  “But starring roles?” Roz said. “The lead actress roles, or even the secondary lead?” She shook her head, unable to smile anymore. It was still painful to her. “No. I’ve not been able to get that kind of work lately.”

  “That’s a crying shame. Racism is alive and well, and I’m white. I see white privilege everyday I’m alive.”

  “It’s a little racism,” Roz agreed. “That’s always there. But it’s a lot of ageism.”

  Billy frowned. “Ageism? Against you? But you don’t look a day over thirty, Roz.”

  “Even if that were true,” Roz said, refusing to accept his empty compliment for more than what it was, “thirty is considered too old by Broadway standards nowadays, Billy. They don’t even want thirty-somethings. And my ass is turning forty soon?” She shook her head. “I can forget it.”

  “Wow,” said Billy. “Now I’m glad I came. I thought it was a shot in the dark. Maybe longer than that. Now I’m glad I decided to try it anyway.”

  Roz looked at him with confusion in her eyes. “What are you talking about?” she asked him.

  “I’m here to offer you a job, Roz.”

  “In Hollywood? No thanks,” Roz said. The last time she tried her hand at a job in Hollywood she was horrifically assaulted and almost died. That place, she decided, was bad news for her.

  “Not Hollywood,” Billy said. No, he wanted her far away from Hollywood.

  “Then what?” she asked.

  “You may not know this,” he said, “but I, too, dabble in stage productions beyond all of my Hollywood blockbusters work. Since the stage was where I cut my teeth.”

  “Are you telling me you have a Broadway production coming up? I didn’t see anything in Variety.”

  “No, not a Broadway production. This is a
limited run at the Old Vic in England. And by limited, I’m talking two years. You’ve played the Old Vic before, haven’t you, Roz?”

  “Yes, I have. But did you say two years?”

  Billy nodded and smiled. “Isn’t it spectacular? I signed the deal last week. A two-year run guaranteed.”

  “Even if it’s a flop?”

  “If it flops, I’ll pull it, and they know that. But no, it’s not going to flop. But the thing is, Roz,” he said, careful not to sound desperate, “I want you to play the lead.”

  Roz was stunned. She didn’t see that coming! “Let me get this straight,” she said, moving to the edge of her seat. “Are you saying you want me to basically move to London--”

  “Oh, there’s no basically about it,” Billy made clear. “You will have to move to London for at least two years. Longer if we’re super-successful, which I’m certain we will be. But moving to London, because you will be doing several shows a day every day, will be required.”

  Roz leaned back. She would love to play the Royal Victoria again, especially in a not-for-profit production. And to have a gig for at least two years straight would give her the stability she would love while doing what she loved so dearly. But leaving Philly for that long?

  “I know you have young children,” Billy said.

  “Oh, they’ll be thrilled to live overseas. They are the least of my worries. They love adventure.”

  “But?” Billy asked.

  Roz didn’t say.

  “If it’s not uprooting your children that you’re worried about,” Billy said, “then it must be uprooting your husband that’s the problem.”

  Roz didn’t want to go there with him. She never discussed Mick around anybody, given who he was.

  Billy could tell she wasn’t going to get that personal with him. He, therefore, moved on quickly. “Or is it the Graham Talent Agency you’re most worried about leaving behind?”

  “No, I should be able to manage that place long distance, just as long as there’s videoconferencing.”

  “Then what’s your hesitation, Roz?” He couldn’t help it. He knew she wanted the gig. He just needed her to accept it.

  “What exactly is the play?”

  “A revival of Virginia Woolf.”

  “With me as Margaret?”

  Billy smiled. “You’ll knock it out of the park, Roz. I can see you winning the Olivier award and boatloads of other awards. And then we’ll bring it to Broadway. I think this role can be your crowning achievement. It still is Liz Taylor’s crowning achievement and she and Burton made that movie in ’66. I really believe this role, if you choose to take it, can define your career for generations, Roz.”

  He could see that fire in Roz’s eyes, the fire every actor had whenever they knew they were being handed the role of a lifetime. But she was still hesitant. And he knew why. That husband of hers. That damn Sinatra! But he had to be careful not to scare her away completely. He could try to produce something on Broadway for her, but he needed her away from Sinatra, especially during what he hoped was going to be an arrest and a long, drawn-out trial. And then a conviction where Sinatra would rot in prison. Or worse.

  But he needed Roz to commit to London before then. Because he knew there was no way in hell Sinatra was uprooting his massive company and his odious crime activities just to be with his wife in England. Not a man like Mick the Tick. Not a man who would end the life of a beloved woman like Natalie. Wasn’t going to happen.

  And with Sinatra worrying about his own misfortunes, and unprecedented legal jeopardy, Billy would be there to pick up the pieces or, if Roz wouldn’t cooperate, tear apart those pieces. It was a no-fail, if he played it just right.

  “I tell you what, Roz,” he said, rising to his feet. “You take a few days to think about it. If you agree, I’ll come back to Philly and we’ll celebrate with a dinner party in your honor. And sign a contract that I guarantee will change your life forever. Is that a deal?”

  “For me to think about it for a few days?” Roz clarified. She wasn’t about to agree to anything beyond that. At least not yet.

  Billy smiled. “Yes. Will you agree to think about it for a few days, and then let me know?”

  Roz smiled and nodded. “Yes. That’s a deal.”

  Billy smiled too. He gave her his card, with his personal phone number on back, said his goodbyes, and left.

  Roz sat back down and leaned back after he had gone. She could still smell his cologne and still felt the afterglow of his smile. There was a time, way back when, when she thought he was just about the best looking man she’d ever seen. And she had a bit of a crush on him. And he still looked good!

  But that wasn’t here nor there for Roz. It was all about the offer. The chance to have a steady gig doing the work she loved. It was an offer she’d be nuts to refuse.

  Truth was, she would have already said yes had it not been for Mick. Because she knew without asking him that he was going to be a no. A resounding no. And he just might forbid her from going at all. Which, she knew, if he was angry enough, he was more than capable of doing.

  She also knew, if he ever tried to exercise that kind of power over her, it could tear their family apart. Which wouldn’t be fair on so many levels. Because Roz played by the rules. She was always there for their children. She was always there for her husband. She was always there for her friends and family members. But Mick? His ass could go as he pleased, sometimes staying away from home weeks on end, and that was perfectly fine. But let her want in on the I’m my own person movement and Mick would move to shut it down. She knew him. She knew what he was capable of.

  That was why taking Billy’s offer wasn’t going to be as easy as just saying yes. She had to consider other options, like a starring role on Broadway would be fantastic. She had an audition coming up. Maybe that one would work out for her and render Billy’s offer unnecessary. Or maybe past was prologue and she wouldn’t be successful at that audition either. Billy’s offer might be all she had to work with. His wife was dead. He was ready to branch out big time. And he invited her along for the ride. It was an offer she didn’t see how she could completely refuse.

  But then there was Mick, she thought. Which meant, if she stood any chance at all of getting him onboard, she had to tread very, very, very carefully.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The plane touched down in Palermo, on the southern coast of Sicily, and Mick and Teddy made their way down the steps, across the tarmac, and into the waiting limousine. They both sat on the same side. Denny Randazzo was already seated on the opposite side.

  “Benvenuti nel mio paese,” Randazzo said to the two Americans.

  But Mick wasn’t interested. “Speak English motherfucker,” he said.

  Randazzo laughed. “You are Italian, but speaks no Italian. Shame on you, Michello!”

  Mick smiled.

  “I said welcome to my country,” Randazzo clarified.

  “No security?” Mick asked him.

  “Do I need security, Michello? Am I to be afraid of my friend? My dear friend?”

  Teddy let out an impatient exhale. Friend my ass, he thought.

  Mick thought the same thing. Although he had no beef with Randazzo, and the Sinatra syndicate and Randazzo’s were never at war, Randazzo was about as dear to Mick as the seat he sat on. He stared at his old acquaintance.

  “What is it, Michello?” Randazzo asked. “You may speak your mind to me.”

  “He gave your name,” Mick said.

  “Who gave my name?”

  “Pauley Jay.”

  Randazzo seemed surprised. “In reference to those raids?”

  Mick nodded. “Yes.”

  Randazzo seemed shocked. “What did he claim? Did he insinuate that I, your true friend, would backstab you? That I would alert the fucking Feds about your activities when I know next to nothing about them myself?”

  “Since you know so little,” Teddy said, “ why did two of your goons show up at Pauley Jay’s apartment
ready to take him out? Or maybe they were there to take me and Pop out. But yet you know so little.”

  “What two goons?” Randazzo asked.

  Teddy pulled out his cell phone. He had taken pictures of the two dead thugs before they left Rome. He showed them to Randazzo.

  To Mick and Teddy’s surprise, Randazzo smiled. “Ah. Those two. They left my employ over a year ago.”

  Mick stared at him. Teddy needed to hear more. “Why?” he asked Randazzo. “Other than Pop, you’re the biggest show going in Rome. Why would they give up that prestige?”

  “They had no choice. They were part of a group that disobeyed a direct order from my underboss. I fired them.”

  “Used to be a time Denny Randazzo would kill a fucker for disobeying him,” Teddy said.

  “Yes. I used to be that way. And I did, let’s say, handle the main culprits. Those two? They were just the followers. They did as they were told by their capos. They were badly injured. Don’t misunderstand me. They were hospitalized for several months. And they were fired too.”

  Then Randazzo looked at Mick. “Everything I am saying to you, Michello, I can verify. Although I am sure verification is never needed between friends. But I will gladly do so if you request it.”

  “Why would a man, being dangled out of a window six stories high,” Teddy asked, “give a false name?”

  Randazzo thought about it. “There’s only one answer for it,” he said. “Fear.”

  Mick respected the man who sat across from him. Not because he was a great man. He wasn’t. In the end Randazzo was weakfish to Mick. But he was a smart man, and sometimes brains trumped brawn. Mick, everybody knew, had both. “Who, do you suppose, he feared?”

  “More than you?” Randazzo asked. “More than the man who was dangling him out of that window?” Randazzo shook his fat head. “I cannot say, Michello. But I can say this: it was not me or mine. We would never do that to you. Because, you see, we fear you more.”