Endings & Beginnings (New Mafia Trilogy #3) (26 page)

BOOK: Endings & Beginnings (New Mafia Trilogy #3)
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   “You assholes, get going and make those
deliveries,” Marcus said to two guys sitting on the sofa who appeared half
asleep. They quickly stood up and grabbed the box. One snatched up the Glock
and shoved it in the back of his baggy jeans. “Have a seat,” he gestured to the
newly vacated spots.

   “Look, Dom, before you do what you came here to
do, I’m not the guy. I heard what went down and already called Demetrius. It
wasn’t me.”

I didn’t say anything, just sat back to observe.
Marcus was nervous, but he never broke eye contact with me, which made me think
he was telling the truth. His dog shuffled over and bumped his nose against my
hand so I gave him some pets. Satisfied, the brindle curled up at my feet,
resting his head on the top of my black boot. Marcus’ other men were on alert
and equally as nervous, but they stayed silent.

   “What about the shit you’ve been starting with
Demetrius? You’re threatening his business.”

Marcus hung his head and swore. “That wasn’t me neither.
Some of my men decided to take it on themselves, thought it’d earn some favor
with me. They’ve been dealt with. I don’t want any of the H business, man. I’m
happy with pills and weed. That’s all the college kids seem to want.”

Once again, I got the feeling he was being truthful.
“Alright, I believe you.” I said and stood up. Joey and Leo followed suit. The
dog huffed and relocated. “If you hear anything about what went down, I’d
appreciate a heads up.”

   “No problem.” Marcus and I shook hands. “So we’re
good?” he asked.

   “Yeah, we’re good except for your boy out there.
He’s an asshole.”        

   “I know. That’s my nephew and I’ll deal with
him.”

   “Ah, family. I know all about that,” I said and
Marcus laughed. This caused any remaining tension to disappear and we left
without incident.

With Marcus scratched off the list, our focus
narrowed and my suspicions that someone from inside our circle was responsible
grew.

Chapter
34

Natalie

LOS
ANGELES

As the week came to a close my employment prospects
remained unchanged. Callie had a friend in Laguna Beach who managed a bistro
and they were hiring, but I’d be burning more gas there and back than I earned
in tips. Chelsea was looking for me too, but she only knew film and fashion
industry folks, I needed some sort of experience in those industries to even
qualify as an intern. So I showed up for my shift at Dirty determined to make
as much money as possible. I even wore a shorter pair of shorts than normal
hoping the extra leg on display earned me more tips.

I arrived early to help set up and Collin glared at
me from the moment I stepped inside the dimly lit bar. At first I tried to
ignore him, but after doors opened and we had a full house, I suspected he
deliberately took longer to fill my drink orders than the other servers. When a
customer told me I gave them a rum and coke, not a jack and coke, I snapped
because I knew that error was on Collin. The man was cutting into my paycheck
and needed to stop.

Charging through the crowd, I worked my way up to
the bar and lifted the section of counter top that provided access to behind
the bar. Slamming my tray down caused Collin to jerk and he looked over at me
in surprise. I had him cornered by the row of beer taps where he was pouring a
Guinness.

   “What are you doing back here?” he asked,
shouting over the music from the live band.

   “Telling you to knock the shit off! I know you’re
pissed at me over Jason, but I need the money so whatever personal issue you
have with me, don’t let it interfere with my job.” I shouted back, standing in
front of him with my hands on my hips.

   “I don’t know what you’re talking about,
Natalie.”

   “Really? So you’re saying you don’t have a
problem with me?”

Collin smirked and turned back to pouring the beer.
Raine, one of the other bartenders, kept glancing over at us, but she was too
busy making drinks to interfere.

   “Collin, Jason and I broke up. That’s our
business, not yours.”

   “You fucked with my bro, so of course I’m pissed,
but I’m mature enough to not take it out on you at work. Sounds like you’re
paranoid.”

I stood there with my mouth gaping open. Gone was
the cute surfer guy who flirted with me relentlessly just to get a rise out of
Jason.

   “Natalie, back to work, table 12 just asked me
about their drinks,” Callie said, coming up behind me.

   “Sure, sorry.” I picked up my tray and left
Collin behind. I waited for Raine to replace the screwed up drink order before
disappearing into the crowd that clung to the edges of the bar like clusters of
barnacles on a ship’s hull.

At the end of the night I was able to clear $400 in
tips, which wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t enough. I needed to get some more income
coming in and fast. It would have been so easy to just call up Grant and ask
him for a loan like I used to do, but he had already floated me rent and he was
newly married with a baby on the way. It was time I figured it out on my own
and I’d been doing fine before the extended visit in Philadelphia.

After buying groceries, filling up the tank in my
car and paying my electric bill, I was broke again. The following week I hit
the pavement looking for another job and was getting desperate enough to
consider working retail.

It was Wednesday evening when I checked my email and
had a second interview request for a department head position with Macy’s.
Instead of being excited, I wanted to cry. When did job hunting become so
difficult that even second interviews were required for non-management retail
jobs? A knock on the door interrupted my pity party.

I looked through the peephole and smiled at the
familiar face. I opened the door and Chelsea shoved a pizza box at me. “I hope
you’re hungry and I hope you don’t have plans,” she said and pulled out a
bottle of red wine from the large hand bag dangling on her arm.

   “No, in fact I had a date with Orange is the New
Black on Netflix and a bowl of ramen.”

Chelsea glanced around the apartment, pausing at a
pair of dirty socks on the floor by my running sneakers and again at the pile
of mail on the coffee table. For me, this was organized, but for Chelsea’s OCD
the clutter was probably going to give her a facial tic. She didn’t say
anything about the condition of my apartment and went to grab plates out of the
cabinet next to the kitchen sink while I dug around the “catch-all” drawer for
a wine bottle opener.

   “Good because we need to catch up.” I nodded in
agreement. We had only texted since I got back to L.A. with the exception of a
few voicemails and one really brief conversation. I opened the bottle of wine
and poured two glasses and brought them over to the coffee table. After setting
them down, I gathered up the pile of mail and unceremoniously dropped it in the
corner of the room. Chelsea shook her head at my housekeeping when she set the
plates piled with pizza down and sat next to me on the futon.

   “What? I’ll sort through it tomorrow.”

   “And clean the dishes in the sink?”

   “Yes, mom,” I said in a patronizing tone and
Chelsea flipped me off then we both collapsed into a giggle fit. We started to
calm down until Chelsea snorted and we started laughing all over again.
Finally, after a few minutes, we stopped.

   “God, I missed you,” I told her and raised my
glass, touching it to hers, “To best friends!” I toasted and we each took a sip
of wine.

   “So, how goes the job search?” she asked.  I
groaned and took a bite of pizza. “No luck then, huh?”

   “Nope and I’m getting to the point where I can’t
be picky. Macy’s wants to schedule a second interview.”

Chelsea’s nose scrunched up and she shuddered.
“Remember when I worked at Target in high school and how I hated the holidays?
Avoid retail if you can.”

   “I might not have a choice.”

   “What about Grant or even Dom? I’m sure they’d
help you out.”

   “Grant’s already helped me out so much.”

Chelsea set her plate down and turned to look at me,
sitting with her left leg tucked underneath her body. “…and Dom?”

   “No,” I snapped and gulped down half my glass of
wine.

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Why? The guy’s loaded
and bought you a freaking art gallery, which we’re going to circle back to, by
the way. He’d help you in a heartbeat.”

I tried to ignore her, but Chelsea isn’t one to be
ignored. I knew she meant business when she removed the wine glass from my hand
and set it out of reach. “Alright, obviously something happened. Spill.”

   “Fine,” I huffed. “I won’t ask Dom because he
doesn’t want to be part of my life anymore. He sent me away…basically I’m
broken and he’s taking the blame.”

Chelsea was one of the few people who knew all the
shit I went through after Dom and I got together. At the time, Chelsea thought
Dom was taking over my life, but in reality, I was trying to protect Chelsea
from knowing the truth about my situation. I didn’t want her on Uncle Marco’s
radar at all. Unfortunately this led to us having a huge falling out. When I
arrived in Los Angeles seeking refuge with her, that’s when I told her about
the mafia, about Dom and Grant, and why I was healing from a bullet wound.

   “That doesn’t make sense. Why would he try so
hard to get you to stay only to send you away?” 

So I told her about the kiss and how the smoke
triggered a panic attack. “I really tried to fight it. I knew it wasn’t Mr.
Genovese mauling me, but I still freaked out.” I paused and took a deep breath.
Chelsea handed me back my wine glass and I took a sip. “The next morning, Dom
said he realized that it’s his fault, that he ruined me and said it was best
for me if he let me go.”

   “Love doesn’t work that way.” Her comment made me
look over at her and saw her engagement ring sparkling on her left hand as she
brought her wine glass to her lips. Chelsea’s blonde hair was loose and hung
past her shoulders. Her skin seemed to glow, her tan having gotten darker since
I last saw her and it was offset by the loose white silk tank top she wore. She
relaxed, leaning against the back of the futon and since she was still facing
me, her shoulder dipped into the dark green cushion. Her eyes locked onto mine.
“Since you’re here and not in Philly, I’m going to assume that you didn’t fight
him on it and ran away.”

   “Why would I when he’s right? I was the one that
needed out- wanted to be somewhere safe. He’s giving me what I wanted.”

   “I call bullshit,” she said with a smirk,
reaching for another slice of pizza.

   “What’s that supposed to mean?”

   “Nat, I’ve been your best friend since elementary
school. We’re practically sisters, right?”

I nodded and picked at the crust left on my plate, tearing
it up into little pieces.

   “I’ve told you this before, but you run away when
things get intense or painful. It’s a pattern and I see how you are around
Dominic, he’s the one man that has the power to devastate you. Deny it all you
want, Nat, but I know you love him and that hold he has on your heart scares
the shit out of you.”

My mouth opened and I was ready to dispute, but my
jaw snapped shut with an audible click of teeth because as much as I hated to
admit it, Chelsea was right. Sometimes she knew me better than myself.

   “Resistance is futile,” she said in a deep voice
as she attempted to sound sinister.

   “Alright goofball,” I said with a laugh. “You’re
right. I love Dom, but his world is too dangerous.”

   “The world in general is dangerous. Shit, the
mall shooting is proof of that.” Chelsea paused to take a bite of her pizza.
After quickly chewing and swallowing, she continued. “Ordinarily I wouldn’t
encourage you to pursue a relationship with Dom because of you know...the mafia
and all that illegal shit, but what if he is your soul mate? I’d hate for you
miss out on that and seeing your niece or nephew grow up. Life is too short as
it is and a life full of regrets even shorter.”

   “Damn girl, that’s deep.”

She smiled at me and refilled our wine glasses. “One
of my mom’s favorite sayings and I’m going to delve even deeper here.”

Oh God, I thought and braced myself with a large
gulp of wine. The cheap red burned its way down my throat and hit my stomach
like lava. “I think Dom pushed you away before you can reject him again, but
you’ll probably never get him to admit it. He is a guy after all.”

   “Huh, I never thought it about that way.” So Dom
was doing more than trying to protect me, he was trying to protect himself.
“Interesting perspective, Miss Reed,” I said.

   “Not for much longer. Soon I’ll be Mrs.
Stevenson.” Her face lit up with a brilliant smile and she stared dreamily off
into the distance.

This was the perfect opportunity to divert attention
away from my love life and focus on Chelsea’s. “Fill me in on everything,” I
said. “Did you and Derek pick a venue? How is your dress coming along? I want
details!”

   “Yay!” Chelsea bounced up and down in her seat
and clapped. Leaning over, she grabbed her iPad out of her bag. I took another
sip of wine while she pulled up her designs. Since Chelsea worked in the
costume department at Warner Brothers, she didn’t have a lot of spare time to
work on her own designs. The day after Derek proposed Chelsea was already in
designer mode thinking about her dress and the rest of the bridal party
including the gowns her mom and future mother-in-law were going to wear. It
wasn’t an easy undertaking and between her day job, looking at venues, picking
out a caterer and deciding on flowers, Chelsea didn’t have a lot of time. A
night like this one where we could catch up on each other’s lives was rare and
I was enjoying every moment with my best friend.

Chelsea pulled up the design for her wedding dress
and my eyes started to well with tears. “Oh Chels, you’re going to rock that.”
She had taken a vintage 1920’s look of formfitting satin and a low cut back,
but modified it with an ivory lace overlay. It was very simple and elegant. The
train wasn’t long, just an extension of the gown that would pool around her
feet.

   “Yeah, I’m pleased with it and have the fabric
ordered. I have a year to make it and I’m on schedule with my timeline.” She
pulled up another document that had dates and bullet items mapped out. I
couldn’t help but laugh and shake my head. “What?” she asked.

   “Your OCD is showing,” I teased and she flipped
me off, making me laugh even harder.

We spent the rest of the night talking wedding stuff
and catching up on life. When I told Chelsea that Jillian hooked up with Victor
she practically snorted ice water out of her nose.

   “No way! When did this happen?” I filled her in
on the night at Crimson and updated her on Danny’s clean-cut accountant
boyfriend. We reminisced about college, glossing over the time of our falling
out. It was a good night and when Chelsea left to go home, we both promised to
make more time for our friendship.

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