by B. B. Hamel
We pulled up to a bar with a wide awning out front that extended over the sidewalk and to edge of the street. It was held up by four poles and a dark green color, though faded with age and ripped and spotted in a few places. Vince parked the car and climbed out.
I got out and met him on the sidewalk. He gave me a look, his eyes roaming my body, and I felt self-conscious of my low-cut white shir and my tight ripped jeans.
“Steven’s an old friend,” he said. “But we’re going to talk business. So just nod your head and smile.”
I clenched my jaw at that. “I know how to listen,” I said.
“I know you do.” His face softened. “I just mean that he might not be as forgiving of you as Dante was, and I really need to hear what he has to say.”
I looked way and nodded. “I understand,” I said.
“Good.”
He turned and walked toward the awning. I followed, keeping close. We stepped beneath it and he stopped at a large, heavy-looking wooden door with an old-fashioned black wrought iron handle. The sign above the door read O’HARE’S with a little stylized Celtic cross at the end.
He pulled open the door and I followed him inside. The bar was dim, but surprisingly crowded for the middle of the morning. There were maybe six guys sitting on stools and nursing beers, a few more sitting at tables and in booths, most of them sitting alone, though there were a few couples. Some were eating, fried eggs and toast, scrapple and bacon, and the whole place smelled like delicious grease and potatoes.
Irish flags covered the walls. There were shamrocks, little leprechauns, pretty much anything Irish was represented in some way. I saw pictures of James Joyce behind the bar and a copy of Finnegan’s Wake was lined up with the whiskey.
Vince walked to the far end of the bar and leaned against it. I followed and sat on the stool next to him. The bartender turned toward us and smiled a little as she wiped down a glass.
She had bright red hair and deep green eyes. Her shirt was black and tucked into black jeans. She was beautiful, really pretty, especially when she smiled. It almost took me by surprise, but Vince gave her a wary look as she approached.
“Hi there,” she said. “I think I know you.”
Vince cocked his head. “You’re Colleen,” he said.
She nodded. “That’s me.”
“You’re Steven’s wife.”
She laughed. “So I do know you.”
“Not really,” he said. “I know your husband, we were friends back in the day. But I’ve been away for a while.”
“You’re Vincent,” she said and pointed at him. “You’re the one in New York.”
He laughed and nodded. “Got me.”
“Oh, this is so cool,” she said and put down the glass she was cleaning. She held out her hand and Vince shook it. “Really nice to meet you. Steven says good things sometimes.”
“And he says bad things the other times, I’m sure,” Vince said.
Colleen laughed and shook her head. “No way.”
“I’m sorry to ask you this, but do you know where he is?” Vince asked.
She sighed and nodded. “Of course,” she said. “Is this a business thing?”
“It’s a business thing,” Vince said.
“Okay.” She put her hands on her hips. “It’s always business with you boys.”
“Can’t escape it,” Vince said.
She looked at me and smiled again. “What about you? You seem mixed up in all this.”
I held up my hands and nodded. “Guilty as charged.”
“You better be careful,” Colleen said. “They pretend like they’re all big and bad, but then they make you fall in love.” She laughed and waved as she walked out from behind the bar and disappeared down a side hallway.
I watched her go then looked at Vince. “Is that true?” I asked. “You make us fall in love?”
He looked at me, a sly little smile on his handsome face. “Might be true,” he said. “What, you feeling it already?”
“Not even close,” I said.
“I don’t know. I’ve seen the way you look at me.”
“With loathing and disgust.”
He laughed and leaned closer. “More like lust.”
I opened my mouth to answer but Colleen appeared in the back hallway door.
“He’ll see you guys,” she said. “If you want to come back with me?”
I jumped off my stool and walked toward her. Vince followed behind me, and I heard him laughing. I wanted to turn and tell him off but I kept moving after Colleen instead. She smiled at me, her head tilted to the side, and she must’ve noticed the look on my face because she shot Vince a little smile. We walked down a short hallway, up a flight of stairs in the back, and paused outside of a door.
“Here we are,” she said. “Vince, go on in.”
Vince slipped past me, and he trailed a hand along my midsection as he went. I glared at him but he only smirked, opened the door, and went inside.
Colleen put a hand on my arm before I could follow.
“He wants to see Vince alone first,” she said, giving me an apologetic smile. “Do you mind waiting here?”
“That’s fine,” I said and leaned back against the wall.
Colleen stood across from me, arms crossed. We stood in silence for a second and I wondered if she was just going to leave the bar unmanned downstairs. But then again, if this really was a place owned by the mafia, nobody was stupid enough to try to steal from them.
“Can I ask you something?” she said after a few tense seconds.
“Sure,” I said. “What’s up?”
“I don’t know how to say this without sounding crazy, but, uh, are you in trouble?”
I blinked then shook my head. “No, uh, I don’t think so,” I said.
She leaned a little closer. “You can tell me if you are,” she said.
“No, Vince’s actually been really nice to me,” I said. “I mean, he’s a dick, and he’s a mafia guy, but whatever. I’m with him because I want to be.”
She let out a breath and seemed relieved.
“Got it,” she said. “You just look too… nice to be dating a guy like him.”
“Oh, wait, no, you got it wrong,” I said, holding up my hands. “We’re not dating.”
“You’re not?”
“No, God, no, I’m a journalist. He’s just… my subject.”
She looked surprised. “You’re a journalist? Really?”
“Really,” I said. “Freelance mostly, but I get a lot of gigs from the Inquirer. I’m hoping this little profile on Vince will land me a real job.”
I didn’t know why I was telling her that, but she had the kind of open and honest face that made me want to spill my guts. I’d give anything for a face like that in my line of work.
“Huh,” she said. “I’m honestly surprised Vincent would drag a journalist around with him.”
“We have an arrangement,” I said.
The smile slipped back onto her lips. “What kind of arrangement?”
“Not what you’re thinking,” I said, clenching my jaw. “Just a professional one.”
“Well, whatever you say.” She laughed and stretched. “I remember when I first met Steven, I hated his guts. He shot me, did you know that?”
I barked a laugh then stopped when I realized she wasn’t kidding. “He shot you?”
“Well, one of his guys did, I think,” she said. “Still got the scar on my shoulder. He brought me back to his place, nursed me to health, and sort of… kept me.”
“So he kidnapped you.”
She grimaced. “Not exactly. My uncle was the head of the Celtic Club at the time.”
“Oh,” I said. “Dante mentioned them.”
“You met Dante?”
“Oh, yeah, at the bakery.”
She tilted her head. “Vince’s really showing you around, huh.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Lucky you.” She sighed a little. “Anyway, he sort of kid
napped me at first, but then it turned into a lot more than that after a while.”
I looked over at the door, toward the room where Vince was speaking with her husband.
“That’s not happening here,” I said.
“I’m sure,” she said and smiled. “But if you really don’t want that, be careful. Vince’s not such a bad guy, at least based on all the stories I’ve heard.”
“He’s not terrible,” I said. “But he’s not my type. I tend to go for guys that aren’t hardened criminals.”
“That’s what I thought too, but then Steven came along and changed my mind.” She laughed and shook her head. “Anyway, sorry, I know I’m just some random stranger trying to give you advice. You don’t have to listen to me.”
I shrugged a little. “I mean, while we’re talking, what do you know about Vince?”
“Just that he’s loyal,” she said. “Always loyal to his friends. Steven knew him back in the day, and he always says Vince was the best of them, loyal to a fault. So if you’re going to fall in love, he’s not a bad one to choose.”
“I’m not falling in love,” I said.
She laughed again just as the door opened. Vince stood in the doorway and gestured at me.
“Come up if you want,” he said. “Steven said it’s okay.”
“Well, guess that’s my cue,” Colleen said. “I was just warning Mona here to be careful around you.”
Vince smirked at her. “Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because she’s clearly starting to have a thing for you and you mafia guys are all a bunch of dangerous assholes.” She grinned at me then headed downstairs.
I stared after her then felt my cheeks turning red. I looked up at Vince and he grinned like mad at me.
“Don’t,” I said.
“You got a thing for me?”
“Not even a little bit.” I shook my head. “She’s just remembering her own story.”
“Yeah, I bet,” he said then took a step down toward me. “Come on, little Mona. You can admit that you want me, it won’t be so bad. I’ll take good care of you.”
I shook my head and pushed him away. “Keep this up and I’ll make you a short, fat bald man in my story.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” he said then grabbed my hand and pulled me up toward him. I stumbled but he caught me, his other hand on my lower back. I felt his hard body against mine and took a deep breath, my breasts pressing against his abs. He was warm and big, and I really did feel small in his arms.
“Let go of me,” I said, my voice soft.
He leaned toward me, and I felt my heart hammering. His full, sensual lips were so close to mine, and I wanted to tilt my head, open my mouth, taste his tongue.
God, what the hell was wrong with me?
He moved past my lips, his mouth lingering against my ear.
“Just checking,” he whispered, then pulled away with a smirk.
I stood on the steps for a second, shaking with desire, then followed him up into the room. I knew I was blushing like mad, and I hated him for messing with me, but there was a moment just then, a short moment when I thought I’d actually kiss him, when I thought I might really love it.
God, there’s something wrong with me.
Steven sat behind a small metal toward the far wall. There were little TV monitors mounted on the wall to his left, and I recognized the view out in front of the building and a few shots of the patrons and the bar itself, which explained why Colleen was so willing to leave the bar empty. There were filing cabinets, folders lying around, and a large safe shoved into a corner.
Steven himself was tall, dark hair, blue eyes. He was handsome in a rugged kind of way, and wore a tight, tailored suit that clung to his muscular form. He stood as I approached and shook the hand I extended him.
“Nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Mona.”
“Mona,” he said. “Vince’s just been telling me about you.”
“Good things, I’m sure.”
He released my hand. “He says you’re okay, for a journalist.” Steven sat down. I glanced back at Vince who just grinned and shrugged.
“What can I say? You’re the enemy.”
I rolled my eyes and looked at Steven. “Do you think that too?”
“I think journalists are dangerous to people like us,” he said. “But you’re not necessarily the enemy, no, not really.”
“Good,” I said. “At least one of you has some sense.”
Vince laughed and leaned up against the filing cabinet to my left, his arms crossed over his chest.
“All right,” he said. “Steven agreed to let you sit up here for a second, so go ahead and ask whatever you want to know.”
I stared at them, taken off guard. I hadn’t expected to be allowed to ask questions, especially not of a high-ranked Capo. But Steven raised an eyebrow at me and tilted his head, and I could tell he was waiting for something.
“Did you really shoot Colleen?” I asked, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.
He frowned then shook his head and laughed. My stomach did flips and my heart raced, and Vince stared at me like I was a crazy person.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “I’m pretty sure that was Davide. Or maybe it was Chad? I actually don’t even remember who I was with that night anymore.”
“But she did get shot.”
Steven leaned back and held out his hands. “It was the beginning of a war,” he said. “She was an innocent bystander, and my guys got a little excited. I made sure she was okay, but when I realized she was the niece of my enemy, I couldn’t just let her go.”
“She explained that part,” I said.
“It’s a love story for the modern era,” Vince said with a laugh.
“It worked out for the best, at least,” Steven said
“And now you… own all this territory?” I asked. “What happened to the families of all the other gang members?”
“They’re still here,” he said. “In fact, one of the guys at the bar is the uncle of a man I killed. Nice guy, really funny.”
“They just… live with you?” I stared at him in surprise.
“He’s doing things a little differently,” Vince said, and I detected a hint of pride, or maybe awe in his voice.
“Colleen’s idea,” Steven said. “We’re taking care of this place, helping out the families that lost guys, giving jobs to those that need them. I opened a daycare, funded a library, upgraded the park. Instead of cracking down and breaking skulls like we’ve done in the past, I’m making things better.”
“And it’s working?” I asked.
“It’s working,” he said. “It’s not nearly as profitable, I’ll be honest. But we make enough money, so why not spread it around?”
Vince laughed. “And that’s why everyone thinks he’s nuts.”
“Makes sense to me,” I said. “Win over the locals. Consolidate your control.”
Steven gave me an interested look. “You’re clever,” he said. “Vince better be careful with you.”
“Oh, I know,” Vince said. “Don’t worry. I’m keeping my distance.”
Steven laughed and sat up straight. He looked at the monitors, tilted his head, and out let a breath. I tried to follow his gaze, but he picked up a remote and turned them off with the click of a button.
“Well, that about does it for me,” Steven said. “Duty calls. Mind if you two let yourselves out?”
“Not at all,” Vince said. “Thanks for our little chat.”
“Like I said, I’ll do what I can, but no promises.” Steven stood and shook Vince’s hand. “It’s good seeing you again. Come visit more often. I’m sure New York is fine without you.”
“That’s just it,” Vince said. “New York is dull without me. They won’t let me stay too long.”
Steven laughed. I stood up, shook his hand, thanked him, and followed Vince out. We headed down the steps, through the back hall, and into the main bar. Colleen caught my eye and waved.
“You too.”
“Come stop by again soon,” she said. “And we can chat about these idiot mafia men.”
“I will,” I said.
Vince shook his head. “You’re putting ideas in her head,” he said. “Don’t forget, she’s the enemy.”
Colleen rolled her eyes at him, and I followed him outside into the brightening afternoon.
He opened the car door for me and gestured. “My lady,” he said.
I sighed and hesitated before getting in. “You know, I can’t believe you drive this thing,” I said.
“Why not?” he asked. “It’s nice, right?”
“It’s really nice,” I said. “But it’s so obvious. Like, aren’t you supposed to be on the down-low?”
He laughed and shook his head. “I’m a gangster, my darling. I can’t hide that fact any more than a fish can choose not to swim.”
“I like that you’re just openly admitting it now,” I said.
“Listen, the cars, the clothes, it’s an image,” he said. “It’s a way to project strength. We show that we have money and power so our enemies don’t think they can just come fuck with us whenever they want to.”
“I didn’t know this old BMW scared people off.”
He gave me a flat look. “Get in the car,” he said. “You can insult me all you like, but my baby’s off limits.”
“Never call your car your ‘baby’ again,” I said.
“I’ll start calling you baby if you don’t get in.” He made a sharp gesture to the seat. “Sit your pretty ass down.”
I sighed and climbed inside. He shut the door with a pleasant smile, walked around to his side, and got in. The engine fired up and he pulled out into traffic.
“Seriously,” I said, running my hand along the dash, “this car is just too obvious. If you really were serious about—”
The sentence was knocked from my throat and the words came out a strangled gasp as a huge crashing crescendo filled my ears and we were thrown sideways. I smashed up against the door and only managed to avoid getting thrown through the windshield because I was smart enough to wear my seatbelt. Broken glass scattered all over my face and lap, and I heard a grunting shout as the world rang in a high-pitched squeal.