Speak Low (Speak Easy 2) - Page 28

“Well, yes, but…how did you manage it if you haven’t gotten the money for the opium yet?”

“Just leave the business to me.” He leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the cheek but seemed suddenly distracted by something. “Now, why don’t you join your friends, and I’ll try to send for you later.”

“But what about Joey?”

His eyes darkened a little. “Leave it, darling. I’ll see you later tonight.”

He tucked the whisky back into my hand and strode toward the entrance. With dread in my stomach, I turned to see whom he’d rushed off to greet. The dread turned to fury when I saw Gina Meloni making her way toward him, wearing a gorgeous gold and scarlet dress and a feather in her dark hair. She threw her arms around his neck and he kissed her cheek, taking her arm to lead her to their usual table. Spikes of wrath needled my arms and legs, and I finished both the water and the whisky, slamming the glasses on the bar.

If I’d thought I could handle the back and forth between her and me, I was wrong. Either he wants me or not. No closet full of clothes was worth feeling so angry and inferior every time he left my side and went to her. So her father owned a distillery and supplied his club, so what? He shouldn’t have to marry the guy’s daughter if he didn’t want to. And he didn’t…did he?

As I watched him seat his fiancée and light her cigarette, it struck me what was so unnerving about his behavior tonight. He was acting just like his father—the amused detachment while calling me darling, the cool kisses on the cheek, the shrewd agenda I knew lurked beneath the polite treatment of his enemies. The comparison turned my stomach.

I walked back to the booth, where Evelyn and Ted sat holding hands. On the dance floor, Walter was doing his best shimmy with a black-haired flapper dressed in red, and Rosie had her arms around Joey again. He held her close, spun her out, and they laughed together. When he pulled her in even tighter to his chest and whispered something in her ear, I felt it like a punch in the stomach. No one wanted to dance with me that way.

My hiccups were gone. I ordered another drink.

#

At some point, Joey and Rosie returned to the table, and I did my best to appear unaffected by their flirting as well as by the whisky I’d consumed. It wasn’t easy. My head was cloudy, the room wasn’t holding still like I wished it would, and my skin itched with irritation. There was plenty of room in the goddamn booth—why the hell did she need to sit on his lap? And why the hell did I care, anyway? I held my tongue, not easy for me, and tried not to stare at them. I even attempted to flirt with Walter, and though my heart wasn’t in it, Joey sat up straighter when I put my hand on Walter’s arm and laughed at a silly joke he told. It made me feel a little better.

Around midnight, one of the DiFiore goons came to our table and asked for Joey to follow him. Joey excused himself, and I practically elbowed Walter in the face to scramble out of the booth after him. “Joey, wait!”

He turned and grimaced at me. “Go back and sit down.”

“No. I’m coming with you.”

“You can’t. And you’re drunk. Now quit acting screwy and go back to the table. I’m sure Arthur misses you already.”

“Walter.”

“Exactly.” He took me by the shoulders, turned me around, and gave me a little shove toward the table.

But I wouldn’t go. “I’m coming with you,” I insisted, trailing his heels.

Joey shrugged and spoke over his shoulder. “Fine, I’ll let the cake eater deal with you.”

I hurried behind him, taking two steps for every one of his, stumbling a little in my high heels. When the goon reached the curtained doorway that accessed a staircase to the building’s upper floors, I tried to slip through after Joey.

“He didn’t ask for you.” The goon grabbed my elbow and held me back.

“I promise I won’t be any trouble.” I smiled sweetly at him, a younger guy with thick eyebrows and a five o’clock shadow. “I stayed here Friday night, and I think I left something in one of the rooms. I’ll just retrieve it while I’m here.”

“Oh, you work here, eh?” One of his bushy brows arced suggestively.

“What? No! I was sort of—a guest.” And sort of a prisoner too, but I left that part out.

“That’s a shame,” said the goon. Joey bunched his fists at his sides.

“Listen, if Enzo sends me back down, I’ll come without any trouble at all.” I tried a flirty wink. “What harm could a little thing like me cause?”

Joey coughed, and I glared at him.

“No chance, doll. He didn’t ask for you.”

So much for my feminine charm. Helplessly I watched them disappear behind the curtain, then spun around and stomped back toward the booth. How dare Enzo shut me out! I was the one who told him Joey had the opium in the first place. Was he keeping me away for a reason? I was torn between being angry and being scared. If he was on the level about his promise not to hurt Joey, why wouldn’t he tell me what he was doing? And how dare Joey fail to stick up for me and insist I be allowed to accompany him! I’d put this whole thing in motion.

Bastards, all of them.

Tags: Melanie Harlow Speak Easy Romance
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