A Bookie's Odds Page 4

  “Mi carina, I’m glad you could make it.” Sophie held up her hands.

  Georgia leaned forward and embraced the older woman. “You know I couldn’t miss your birthday, Nonna.” Georgia reached back and took the box from Nicholas. “This is for you.”

  “Is it the shawl I was admiring in the catalog last month?”

  “You’ll have to open and see.”

  “Open it, nothing. I already know.” Sophie turned to the white-haired woman to her right. “This young lady can look at a design and then crochet it without a pattern. Such talent.” She glanced back up at Georgia. “So when are you going to stop hanging around that bum and settle down with a decent man?”

  “Nonna, I’m standing right here,” Nicholas grumbled. “At least wait until I’m outta earshot before talking about me.”

  “I don’t believe in talking about people behind their backs. I believe in calling you a bum to your face.”

  “Feisty.” Nicholas leaned forward and kissed the woman’s cheek. “That’s what I like about you.”

  “Flattery will get you nowhere.” She waved her hand toward the dance floor. “Go on and get. I’ll speak to you later.”

  “Nicholas, I want to go to the powder room,” Georgia said as they stepped off the dais.

  “Why? You look fine.”

  “I want to make sure.” She fussed with a curl. “You did have the top down.”

  “And you can trust me…” His gaze moved down her body again. “There ain’t a strand out of place.”

  ****

  Georgia rolled her eyes.

  How would he know if there was a strand out of place? He had barely been able to keep his eyes above her neck since he arrived at her apartment.

  If it had been any other man, she would have closed the door in his face and called her father to make sure the offender left the building. However, she knew Nicholas was teasing her and that she did not have anything to worry about around him. As far as he was concerned, she was nothing more than a friend of his sister.

  Georgia strolled to the other side of the room and headed down a corridor. As she placed her hand on the door to the women’s room, she heard a familiar giggle. She walked past the room, turned the corner, and froze at the sight of Gianni pressing Celeste against the wall.

  As he leaned toward her, Celeste glanced over his shoulder. Her eyes grew wide, and her cheeks reddened. She placed her hands on the man’s shoulders, turned her head to the side, and whispered something that did not travel back to Georgia’s ears.

  Gianni glanced over his shoulder and sneered.

  Georgia was certain the less than friendly greeting was not a result of her interrupting them. Over the years, Gianni had let her know with scowls, grimaces, and glares of outright disgust that he never appreciated her presence. She was certain it was only the protection of the Santianos that kept him from vocalizing his feelings.

  “What’d you want…?” Gianni mouthed the derogatory word he would not dare utter aloud in the presence of a Santiano. The consequence of speaking his thought would be the relocation of his teeth to the back of his head.

  “I was looking for the powder room.” She glanced past the man to her friend. “What’s going on?”

  “I thought I felt something in my eye.” Celeste gently pushed against Gianni’s shoulders until he stepped back. “Gio was checking it for me.”

  Georgia raised her eyebrows. Did her friend seriously think she’d buy that cockamamie excuse?

  The gesture was wasted on Celeste. She turned her attention back to Gianni.

  “My eye’s better. Thanks for the help,” she said as she ducked around the man. “I’ll come with you.” Celeste grabbed Georgia’s wrist as she rushed past. Georgia peered over her shoulder at Gianni. He glared back at her as he smoothed his brow with his middle finger. She was tempted to return the gesture. At the last second, she decided not to stoop to his level and allowed Celeste to lead her around the corner to the ladies’ room.

  Two women, primping in front of the mirror that spanned the length of one wall, ceased cackling when the friends walked into the lounge. Despite the age spots covering her cheeks, the shorter one smirked at Celeste. The crow’s feet surrounding her companion’s eyes became more prominent as she sneered at Georgia.

  Crossing their arms over their chests, the friends stood on either side of the door until the women shoved their cosmetics into their purses and sauntered out of the room.

  “It’s about time you got here.” Celeste stepped in front of the mirror, once the door closed. “I was beginning to think Nicky had kidnapped you.”

  “From the looks of it, you didn’t appear too worried.”

  Celeste’s blush deepened.

  “What the hell are you thinking? Your father would’ve killed you if he’d caught you. Not to mention what he’d do to Gianni,” Georgia added, despite the twinge of satisfaction she felt at the thought of the young man’s castration.

  “It’s not what it looked like. I had something in my eye.”

  “Please.” Georgia rolled her eyes. “A two-year-old wouldn’t buy that excuse.”

  Celeste sighed. “Okay, fine.” She pulled Georgia to the red-velvet-covered chaise. “Gio and I have been seeing each other for a while.”

  Georgia dropped onto the seat. “Have you lost your mind? What would your father say?”

  Gianni had been friends with Nicholas since elementary school. She therefore realized any objections she had toward the man would fall on deaf ears. However, there was no question about what Mr. Santiano’s feeling would be about the relationship.

  On countless occasions the man had reiterated his wife’s deathbed wish that their daughter marry someone in a legitimate line of work. Though the woman loved her husband, she wanted her daughter to never have to worry about her spouse going to jail or an early grave as a result of his activities.

  “I know Papa doesn’t think much of Gio, but he doesn’t really know him. Gio’s smart and kind and…”

  “He works with Nick,” Georgia reminded her friend. “Your father’s not going to let you get involved with him.”

  Celeste sighed as she sat on the edge of the chaise. “I’m sure once Papa gets to know him, he’ll like Gio. I’ve just got to find a way to get them together.”

  Georgia shook her head. They would get a man on the moon before Marco Santiano liked Gianni. Celeste was his princess, and only the best would do for her.

  Her friend reached out and clasped her hands. “Promise me you won’t say anything until I figure out how to get Papa to accept Gio.”

  The desperation in Celeste’s eyes indicated she had fallen hard for the man.

  Georgia huffed. As much as she did not want to be a party to the other woman’s deception, she nodded her head. “As long as you promise not to do anything stupid.”

  Celeste squealed and embraced Georgia. “Thank you.”

  Georgia gave her friend a slight squeeze before pulling back. She wished she could share in her friend’s excitement, but a nagging feeling said she would regret her promise.

  Celeste jumped to her feet and grabbed Georgia’s hand. “Come on, we should get out there before the guys think we got lost.”

  With a sigh, Georgia pushed up from the chaise. She shuffled behind her friend and out of the lounge. Nicholas stood in the hall with Gianni.

  “It’s about time,” Nicholas said. “What were you doing in there?”

  “None of your business,” Celeste said, placing her hands on her hips.

  “Why can’t you be like guys? We do our business and get out.”

  “It takes time trying to look good for you guys.”

  Nicholas laughed. “What guys?” He glanced down the hall, then back up. “You mean the long line waiting for you?”

  Georgia smacked his arm. “Be nice.”

  “Should I take off my jacket to fight back the crowd?”

  “Nicholas!”

  “Okay, okay, okay. I’ll stop. No
need to get upset.” He stopped laughing. “Celeste knows I’m kidding.” He placed a hand on Georgia’s back and led the way to the dining room.

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s not nice to tease your sister.”

  “Maybe not, but it’s fun.”

  As they approached a table, the occupants burst into laughter. Two men leaned back in their chairs and howled as the two women with them snickered.

  “I’ve got a better one,” the larger of the two men gasped. “What’s the difference between dog shit and a spade?”

  Georgia barely had time to tense at the offensive joke before Nicholas had stepped to the table and grabbed the front of the man’s shirt.

  “I’m curious.” His tone was low, cold, and promised a world of hurt. “What’s the difference?”

  The man swallowed hard. His Adam’s apple quivered. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead, despite the breeze from ceiling fans.

  “Well?” Nicholas lifted the man from the chair.

  “Ugh!” was the only reply the man could make as his collar tightened around his throat. His face turned an unnatural shade of red.

  Georgia stepped forward. “Let him go, Nick.” She placed a hand on his arm.

  “Why? He wanted to tell jokes.” He placed his face inches from the other man’s and bellowed, “Let’s hear it.”

  A crack echoed through the venue. Georgia released Nicholas’s arm and jumped back..

  “Let him go.” Nonna Sophie raised the cane from the top of the table.

  Nicholas, who had not flinched, shook his head.

  “Let him go, or the next surface my cane smacks will be your head.”

  After a heartbeat, he shoved the man into the chair and stepped back.

  “There’ll be no fighting tonight.” She shook her cane. “Do I make myself clear?”

  He glared at his adversary, his hands in fists.

  His grandmother slapped the cane on the table. The echo from the second crack was louder as the majority of the patrons silently gawked at them.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Good. Now go dance.” When he did not move, she waved the cane to the dance floor in front of the stage. “Carina.”

  Georgia stepped forward and grabbed his arm. “Come on, Nick.”

  Nicholas took her hand and lifted her palm to his lips. He then intertwined his fingers with hers. The onlookers parted as he led her to the dance floor.

  As the band began to play “Sway,” Nicholas slipped his free hand around her waist and pulled her close to him. He led them in a small box-step that would have had no effect on her if there had been more than two inches separating them.

  Despite the knowledge he had been trying to make a point, Georgia’s heart raced from the kiss. She mentally scolded herself for having such a reaction to a flirt. She had always considered herself too levelheaded to get flustered by a playboy. That silliness was for other girls.

  “Don’t frown, amore mio. It’s not becoming.”

  Nicholas’s low voice sent a shiver through her. There was something wrong with her. She figured she was too close to him. She needed to place some distance between them. The only problem…she enjoyed being in his arms.

  Nicholas sighed. “Okay, we’ll skip the lecture and get right to the part where I say, ‘No, I couldn’t walk by, and I’m not sorry for my outburst.’ ”

  She glanced up at him and shook her head. “What lecture?”

  “The one in which you ask if I couldn’t have simply walked by. When I say, ‘no,’ then you frown harder and tell me violence isn’t the answer.”

  “Well, it isn’t.”

  “That’s why we can’t be together, amore.”

  “No, we can’t be together ’cause you’re a skirt chaser.”

  “You’re beginning to sound like your father.”

  “No, Daddy calls you a thug. I called you a skirt chaser.”

  Nicholas released her hand and slapped his own over his heart. “You hurt me.”

  Georgia sucked her teeth. “Be serious.”

  “I am.” He took her hand back into his, ignoring the curious glances from the patrons who had joined them on the dance floor. “How could you say such harsh things?”

  “Because it’s true. You’ll chase after anything in a skirt.”

  “I do not.”

  “Oh, forgive me. I forgot your two prerequisites.”

  “Which are?”

  “Big boobs.”

  “That’s not true.” He glanced at the mounds peeping from the top of her dress. “I enjoy all breasts.”

  The room suddenly grew warm. “Stop that.” She lowered her eyes, trying to maintain her composure. “People will get the wrong idea.”

  “What idea? That you’re a beautiful woman men can’t help but look at?”

  “No, that you’re interested in me. We both know that’s not possible.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’ve already told you.” She huffed. At times, talking to Nicholas was like talking to a mule. “You’re a womanizer.” She raised her eyes. His, dancing with amusement, stared down at her. “So do me a favor and stop brushing my cheek, kissing my hand, and calling me amore, ’cause I’m not your love.”

  ****

  If any other woman had made the remark, Nicholas would have obliged her and walked away. He had left more than a few women standing on the dance floor, sitting in restaurants, or lying naked in bed because they dared to challenge his commitment to them. They either took him as he was or they got nothing.

  However, he could not pull away from Georgia. He enjoyed the touch of her soft hands and the feel of her body close to him.

  He inhaled the floral scent she’d dabbed behind her ears and wondered where else she placed the perfume.

  Nicholas’s body responded to the direction his thoughts took. He knew he should refocus his imagination or he would spend the rest of the evening in an uncomfortable state. However, he wanted to take in everything about her and commit it to memory.

  Though doing so ensured it would be a long evening, he figured he could take matters into his own hands once he was alone. He was sure it would not be as good as the real thing, but he would have to be satisfied with what he could get.

  While some believed colored women were easy, willing to give it up at the drop of a dime, he knew Georgia was not like that. She was raised, like his sister, to save herself for marriage. And since marrying him was out of the question, so was everything else.

  A tug at his nape pulled his attention back to the woman in front of him and away from his lecherous thoughts.

  “Did you pull my hair?”

  “I had to do something,” Georgia replied. “You had a faraway look in your eyes.”

  Nicholas was glad that was the only thing she saw in his eyes. “I was thinking.”

  “What’s there to think about? All you need to do is agree with me.”

  “Agree with what?”

  Georgia shook her head. “You’ll stop all your touchy-feely nonsense.” She huffed again. “You also need to stop using those endearments with me. I’m not one of your bimbos.”

  Nicholas nodded.

  No, she wasn’t, and she never would be.

  She was Georgia Mae Collins, a good woman who deserved a good man, not a thug like him.

  Chapter 4

  “That’s one fine piece of chocolate.”

  Georgia agreed with the outburst that followed the low whistle from the woman sitting at the table on the other side of the bar.

  Though she did not get home until after four in the morning, Georgia was awakened at eight by her father, who insisted she straighten the apartment for their guest. She knew William was not expected to go past the ground floor, and the unreasonable request put her in a gloomy mood she planned to hold onto for the rest of the day.

  In spite of her resolve, a smile slowly spread across Georgia’s face when the man walked into
the bar. She did not believe looks made a person; yet even she had to admit he was easy on the eyes. He was just under six feet tall and had a lean build. His red polo shirt accentuated the muscles in his chest and arms, and his short, dark wavy hair was slicked back from his oval face.

  A young lady sitting at the table near the bar gawked. Her companion did not appear to appreciate the attention she paid to the new patron. The man stood and pulled the woman from her seat. With a firm grip on her arm, he dragged her out of the establishment.

  “Billy,” her father greeted as he stepped from behind the bar. The men met halfway from the door. They grasped right hands and slapped each other on the back with their lefts. “I’m glad you could stop by.”

  “You think I’d pass up an offer to have a beer with your college graduate?”

  “In that case, come on over.” Her father slapped the other man’s back once more as he nodded his head toward the bar, where Georgia sat. “Georgia Mae, put those books away and come over here and say hi to Billy.”

  Georgia closed the ledger and slid off the barstool. Since the records were over three years old, she had not bothered reviewing them. Instead, she had passed the time watching workers repair the broken window.

  Though her father insisted business was fine, she worried. There were a few thugs in the neighborhood who were intending to go into the same business as Marco Santiano. However, unlike the older man, they wanted to offer more than a few loans at higher interest rates. They also wanted to provide protection to business owners…after proving how unsafe things could get without it.

  The business had been calm earlier, with a few regulars dropping by to enjoy a quick beer and chat with her father about current events. As the day progressed, more and more customers arrived to have a drink or two before they headed to whatever party they planned to attend. By evening, she expected the bar to be filled with those who wanted to get out of the house and socialize but had no other plans.

  Georgia smoothed the front of her dress and patted her hair in place before stepping forward. William gave her the once-over, starting from her one-inch heels and slowly working his way up. He finally reached her eyes, and she saw the appreciation in his.

  His gaze reminded her of the glint in Nicholas’s eyes when they were dancing the previous evening. Her cheeks burned from the memory.