The Gangster's Girlfriend

“I’ll carry it for you, ma’am.” He held out his hand. She handed everything over, and was proud she didn’t swing them at him. She hated being stripped of her things, but what really stung was the “ma’am.” Twenty-nine was not a “ma’am.” Fuming, she followed him the short distance to Declan’s office. As he had been yesterday, Declan was behind his desk, and looked up when she entered the room.

His smile at the sight of her caused the somersaults to move faster. Desperate to hide her reaction, she focused on the small, simple desk that had been placed to the left of Declan’s desk. It hadn’t been there last night. It faced out from the room, and the view from the window was a large wrought iron fence with ivy covering the fence. The man placed her bag on the desk and pulled out her calculator and then went over it intently. Declan was watching her, and she made a face at him. “What? Am I supposed to be hiding some sort of weapon or something?”

The edge of his beautiful mouth tipped up. “No, sweetheart, a listening device. Mark has a mind to protect me from things seen and unseen.”

Miranda turned back to see Mark had finally stopped fiddling with her calculator. Watching as he took the new legal pad out of the bag and flipped through it. His actions reminded her of just how wrong what she was doing was. This was never something she would ever have to endure if she weren’t working for a criminal. She exhaled slowly and counted to ten. She couldn’t back out now. She had made an agreement, her father had long drummed into her that her word was her honor.

While her eyes were closed, Declan had taken advantage and gotten closer to her. He was so close that she could smell him. His cologne was a clean, light fragrance of juniper and spicy notes of pepper. She liked that it was light enough she could smell Declan through it. His scent was more alluring than any cologne she had ever encountered, even if she couldn’t quite define what it was, it was just Declan. Turning her he

ad, through the two top buttons of the black-button down shirt she could see his honey-brown skin. Miranda wanted so badly to open her mouth and taste him, to see if he tasted as good as he smelled. Again, she was wet with her wanting, and the uncomfortable sensation that her panties were wet pulled her out of her stupor.

She pulled the small leather office chair out and sat down heavily. Fighting for control, she pulled the calculator toward her and fed through a new roll of tape that would record her keystrokes. He was still there, and she fumbled with the threading of the paper. Turning her head to say something, anything, to get him to go away, she saw that she was only inches away from his impressive bulge. Her mouth opened reflexively. She wanted to know what he looked like, what he tasted like. He moved then, bending down, and she was at once thankful and so very sad.

Declan’s face was on level with her own, and his smile told her he knew every thought that had gone through her mind and he liked it. “How long do you think it will take?”

The question wasn’t about the audit. There was no doubt about that. His cockiness gave her the jolt she needed to turn her attention away from him. She opened the ledger and skimmed through it. “When do you think the theft started?” Her tone was as cool as she could make it.

There was a pause before he answered, “Two, maybe three months.”

“It shouldn’t take too long, likely a few days. I’ll go back to last year and see what they looked like then, and then this year I’ll start with the last entry and go back. The entries often tell the story themselves. If the entry isn’t an honest one, then the person will make an entry of numbers they like, that they think will fit. One audit I did, the person stealing really liked the number six, and it was everywhere. Since you think it’s more than one person, it might be a little harder to detect, but it shouldn’t be too hard.”

He stepped away, and she could breathe deeply again. “Then I’ll leave you to it.”

She refused to turn as he made his way back to his desk and opened the ledger to begin.

Declan’s phone rang, and she was surprised that he not only answered with her there, but after listening for a few minutes he seemed to speak freely. “Yes, Douglas, I have the estimate, and I’m going over it now. I’m not yet done with it, but I have to tell you, these costs look fair. I do not think Robert is attempting to rip you off. I know the prices have changed since Robert took over for his da, but his da had been giving the same prices for thirty years, and he had only three sons working for him, and a nephew from time to time when the work got away from him. Sean was a good man, but there were things he neglected, like making sure his workers were protected. Robert has taken on two more men. He needs to pay them fairly and make sure they have what they need, as he’s responsible for them now.

“I know, Douglas, you’ve had a tough time this year; many of us have. I want to finish the estimate and have a talk with Robert and then I’ll call you back.”

Hanging up he entered a number. “Theresa? It’s Declan Kelly. I was calling you about your da. I know the estimate was more than you expected. Yes, I know that the updates are needed. Yes, your da asked me to look through your plan for the store, and I’m sorry if it hurt your feelings. You know your da by now, Theresa—he’s got to have the approval of everyone for miles on before he’ll pick out what he’s having for lunch.

“Here’s the thing, my dear. I cannot in fairness ask Robert to bring his estimate down for your da only. I was wondering, I know you have three boys that, from what I have heard, could pass for grown men. Do you think you could put them to work for their granddad? It could help out on the work Robert has to do.

“Theresa, don’t be so sweet to me now. Your husband is two of me and would cut me down without a second thought. No problem at all, my dear. I’m glad I could help you and your da out.”

He called another number. “Robert, it’s Declan.” He laughed. “Yes, I have been talking with Douglas, and I told him I did not think you were cheating him. No, Robert, I will not be asking you to change your prices for him. I know you have to make a living and I won’t be putting you in that position. I was wondering if you would be willing to make use of Theresa’s boys to help out so it isn’t so much on them. I know, Robert, you have men that need hours, but better to have some with Douglas than none at all, when he uses someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing and charges him less for it. No one would win then.

Thank you, my friend. Of course, I knew you would do it. Theresa will be talking to him tonight about it.” He laughed as he hung up.

She tried not to listen in, but over the course of the next hour, she listened to him solve relatively minor problems for two other people. It sounded like nothing she would have thought about him. A young woman needed help with preparing for a job interview, and had somehow never created a résumé before. He made one call and sent another woman to her for help. Another woman was upset that her father’s nurse had quit suddenly, and she needed help finding a nurse that could be trusted. With just one call, yet another problem was resolved.

It was odd that she was slightly let down hearing him act not much different than a small-town mayor. A player from a mob movie he didn’t seem to be at all. Miranda wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or disconcerting. She needed to be able to keep him at a distance. It was far easier to think of him as a bad guy, rather than the person he was turning out to be.

As she finished reviewing the prior year and making notes, her stomach made it clear that food was mandatory. She checked her watch to see it was only a little over an hour after she had arrived. Eight o’clock was too soon to leave, but her stomach grumbled. It needed something now.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” He was up, and moved toward her. Her stomach grumbled in answer, and he could hear it. “Ah, hunger pains, we can’t have that. What would you like?”

Embarrassed, she shrugged. “I’m not picky. A sandwich will be fine.”

“I can do that, no problem. turkey or chicken?”

“Chicken, please.”

“Mustard or mayo on it?”

“Mustard, just a little.”

“I’ll be right back.”