Speak Easy (Speak Easy 1)

“Well, your father didn’t follow the rules, did he?” He took the Fatima from his mouth and exhaled. “But you’re a smart girl. You do what you’re supposed to, and I promise—no harm comes.”

He promises. Ha. Just watching the smoke slip from his lips was enough to do me harm.

“You don’t believe me.”

I sat back. “No. I don’t.”

“What can I do to convince you?”

“I want to see my father.”

“Impossible.”

“Then let me talk to him.”

He looked at me a moment before speaking. “Are you alone tonight?”

Heat pooled at the center of me. “Does it matter?”

“If we’re going to use the telephone, you’ll have to come upstairs with me. Alone.”

At first, I wanted to tell him I wasn’t dumb enough to go anywhere alone with him. But then I remembered something my mother used to say. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. If my goal was to get them to give me more time to come up with the money, then perhaps I should play nice.

But I should also play smart.

“Just let me tell my friend where I’m going.” As I stood, Enzo’s hand shot out, gripping my forearm.

“I’ll take care of that.” Without letting go, he got up and steered me toward the bar. When we reached the long counter running the back of the room, he released me. “Wait here.”

As he walked away, I looked down at my arm—his fingers had left red marks that wound around my pale wrist like rope.

It should have frightened me.

Chapter Five

For several minutes, I waited alone at the bar, shifting my weight from one foot to the other and rubbing my lips together. Was I screwy to go somewhere alone with Enzo? What would he say to Joey? How did he even know who Joey was? Had he been watching us?

“Can I buy you a drink, doll?” said a voice to my left. The guy was blond, round-shouldered and burly, with pink pimply skin.

“No, thanks. I’m waiting for someone.”

“I’m someone.”

“Just leave me alone.” I turned away from him.

“You can’t come to Club 23 and be alone. At least let me get you a drink.”

“Fine,” I said, mostly to get rid of him. He snapped to get the bartender’s attention while I kept my eyes on the crowd, watching for Enzo. In a moment, my pimply admirer tapped my shoulder and handed me an ominously clear martini. “Here ya go. Best juice in the house.”

“Thanks.” I took it from him but didn’t drink.

He lit a cigarette. “Your fella didn’t show yet, huh? He shouldn’t leave a pretty young thing like you unattended.” Leaning toward me, he exhaled in my face.

I coughed and fanned the air between us. “Listen. I don’t want to be rude, but I’ve told you already to leave me alone.”

He laughed again, an annoying little heh-heh-heh that sounded like my car when it wouldn’t start. “Why don’t ya get to know me before you give me the boot? Name’s Harry.”

“Now I know you. I still want you to beat it.”