Mob Mistress (12 page)

She rolled her eyes, but smiled.

He found a spray cleaner under the sink and returned, scrubbing the stain on the rug. It didn’t come out, but he moved the coffee table leg over by a few inches and it covered it.

“I’ll buy a new rug, okay?”

She laughed. “It’s not my rug.”

“Yeah, but you’re the one who has to live with it. And I don’t want you thinking about what happened. Can you do me a favor and just erase it forever from your mind?”

She laughed. “I’ll try,” she said, but something told him she still hadn’t recovered.

* * * * *

He’ll get tired of you. Just like he got tired of me
.

Try as she might, she could not get Stacy’s words out of her mind. Bobby had been incredible, treating her to a fancy dinner and doting on her. He’d known she’d been disturbed by it all.

The week crawled by as she waited for the call about the interview. The only bright spot was that for the first time in a long time, her earnings belonged to her. Well, not really, because she still had the thirty thousand in medical bills to pay off, but she had no financial emergency. She would make enough to pay the rent at the salon, put some toward the medical bills, and still be able to buy herself an espresso before work or lunch at the deli.

Bobby said he was tied up and she just found out she made the next round of interviews, so she stopped by Plush after work on Friday to celebrate, praying Stacy wouldn’t be there. Unfortunately, she spotted the blonde sitting at the bar when she walked in. She hesitated in the doorway. Maybe she should just go home. She could always call Gina.

But then she straightened her shoulders. Screw that. She’d been coming to this club for years and she wasn’t going to be scared off by some psycho ex-girlfriend. She marched over to the end of the bar and waited for Gina to see her. The Friday happy hour crowd packed the place, the young professionals looking smart in their suits. She caught sight of a tall, broad-shouldered man and her heart stopped for a moment, thinking it was Bobby. But that was stupid. He had a wife at home and a girlfriend in his apartment. Why would he be out trolling for someone else?

“Hey, girl! How’d the interview go?” Gina said, slapping a cocktail napkin down in front of her. “What are you drinking?”

“Cosmopolitan. It went well! I just found out I made the next round.”

Gina filled a martini glass with ice to chill while she filled her stainless steel mixing container with Smirnoff vodka, triple sec, cranberry juice and ice. “Fantastic!” she said, giving it a good shake before pouring the liquid through the strainer into the chilled glass.

“Now I give a sample class and teach a group of stylists how to do a hairstyle.”

“Nice.”

“So did Bobby’s ex-girlfriend say anything to you? About me? Or Bobby?”

“No, why?” Gina asked, leaning forward with interest.

She filled her friend in on the drama that went down that week.

“Holy shit,” Gina said. “Well, she’s here tonight. If she gives you any trouble, let me know and I’ll have the bouncers throw her out.”

She grinned. “Thanks. You know, I have to say, part of me wanted him to go totally mafia on her ass.” She laughed. “You know, like tell her if she showed up again, she would be swimming with the fishes in Lake Michigan? But I actually respected how he handled it. He didn’t lay a hand on her. It’s just nice to know, in case I’m ever in her shoes.”

Gina snorted. “In case you turn into stalker girl?”

She laughed. “No. But I’ve been a little afraid of him. Because of the mafia thing. He’s always been a gentleman, but I guess I had this worry in the back of my mind that I’d better not seriously piss him off, or I’d be in actual, mortal danger.”

“Well,” Gina mused. “You’d probably have to do something really terrible for that to happen. Like wear a wire or steal enormous sums of money from him. And you’d never do something like that.”

“Right,” she said, looking across the bar to where Stacy sat. “Oh shit, she sees me.”

“I’m staying right here with you,” Gina said.

Stacy slid off her bar stool and made her way over. “Hi,” she said, flipping her hair back over her shoulder.

Lexi assessed her coolly. “I did not appreciate your little stunt this week. I have nothing to say to you.”

“Where’s your loverboy? Out looking for fresh meat?”

Gina straightened up and motioned to one of the bouncers, who walked over, looking aggressive. When he arrived, she said, “I need you to go back to your seat over there, or Eric will be throwing you out, and you will be eighty-sixed from this establishment.”

Stacy’s eyes narrowed. “I gave you a chance. We could’ve shared him. But I’m not worried. He’ll get tired of you soon,” she said and flounced out of the bar.

“Um…” Gina said. “I hope she’s not as psycho as she seems. Maybe he
should
have told her she was going to swim with the fishes.”

Lexi forced a laugh, but her humor had vanished over the situation.

Damn Bobby for choosing such a loser, anyway. And how many more girls like her did he have in his past?

Although she had never planned on this being a long-term relationship, knowing she might be just another notch in his belt sickened her.

* * * * *

“Come on, girls, it’s time to go to the barbecue at Uncle Al’s house,” he called to the twins, who were sitting at the dining room table with their laptops open, ostensibly doing homework. He suspected the majority of their time online was actually Facebooking, but what could he expect? They were nineteen.

“Okay, Daddy,” Janine said, slapping the laptop closed and pushing back from her chair. “I’m just going to change my clothes.”

“Make it fast — we’re supposed to be there by 4:00.”

Juliana jumped out of her chair, too. “Okay, okay,” she said.

Twenty minutes later, both girls traipsed down the stairs. “Ready!” Janine called out.

“Don’t forget that antipasta you made from the kitchen,” he said.

“Jeez, Dad, you coulda grabbed it while you were waiting,” Juliana said as she passed him.

“Don’t get mouthy,” he said, but he knew she was only pushing his buttons for fun. The trouble with twins is they amuse themselves far too easily at the rest of the world’s expense.

“So why didn’t you bring Lexi to the barbecue?” Janine demanded when they climbed in the car.

“Yeah, Dad. Obviously you’ve been spending all your time with her. When are you going to bring her around?”

“I’m not. I already told you that,” he said, although the idea of introducing them actually appealed to him. The girls would like her and Lexi would like them, he was sure. It was worth considering for the future.

He drove to Al’s and they made the rounds of greetings, the girls crowding in to ogle Sophie’s baby.

“Where is Lexi?” Sophie asked.

Juliana gave an exaggerated gasp and turned to him, her jaw open. “Sophie’s met Lexi and we haven’t?” she demanded.

He rolled his eyes. “We went to a Cubs game together. It wasn’t planned.” He walked off before they could razz him any further, finding the men standing around the grill.

“So what’s the word with the Feds?” Al asked when only he, Joey and Dean remained.

“Crawling up my ass.”

“They gonna find anything?”

He shook his head. “Nope. But they’re going to cost me in lawyer fees, accountant fees and appeasing the nervous mayor payoffs.”

“That sucks,” Dean said sympathetically.

He shrugged. “It’s no big deal. Chalk it up to cost of doing business. It kinda makes me glad to know they are pouring their resources into a fruitless investigation.”

Al chuckled. “Right. And I thank you for keeping their attention away from the real crime.”

“Anytime. I work for you, boss.”

Al clapped him on the back. “You’re a good man, Bobby. Your father was the first to drag our business toward the legal activities. Joey followed. By the time our kids inherit,
Cosa Nostra
will be all legit.”

He grinned. “I always figured I had the best of both worlds—a relatively safe and successful business with the Family to back me up any time I had problems.”

“Times are changing. The more we move toward center, toward influencing politics and building legal empire, the more we keep our power,” Al declared.

He nodded, wondering how much Joey’s chosen departure influenced this new philosophy. In the old days, he felt his portion of the business had been undervalued. It didn’t have the quick-rich sort of potential of other operations. But now, as the second generation businessman, his portion had exceeded all others, making him a million a year, with a healthy taste going to Al.

“Let me know if you need any help with the investigation.”

“Nah. I got it covered. It’s nothing more than a pain in the ass. But thanks.”

* * * * *

“I just taught my class,” she said breathlessly. She had dialed Bobby’s number the moment she walked out.

“And?”

“I went well! At least I hope it did. I’m so excited. I really loved teaching others how to design hair and it seemed like I was good at it! I am crossing my fingers I get this job.”

“I hope so, too, baby. Congratulations. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks.”

“Listen, I know I haven’t seen you all week. I am up to my ears in a bit of a mess at the office, but I will try to get over there by 9:00, okay?”

She tried to swallow her disappointment. She’d been hoping for a fancy dinner to celebrate. “Okay, yeah. I’ll see you then.”

When 9:00 p.m. rolled around, though, Bobby didn’t show.

At 9:30 p.m. she got a text saying,
Running late.

She sent back the simple one-letter reply,
K,
expecting he meant a few more minutes late. By 10:30 p.m., though, he still had not arrived and she grew angry.

What’s up?
she texted.

Sorry, baby, I’m still tied up but I’m definitely coming. Be there in less than an hour.

At 11:00 p.m., when he still had not arrived, she texted,
What the fuck
?
I’m going to bed.

He did not reply.

Furious, she stripped out of her sexy outfit and put on an old pair of pajamas. He had missed his window of opportunity, as far she was concerned.

She sat on the sofa, watching TV. She had mostly written him off, but still felt like she should wait up to see if he ever responded.

Twenty minutes later he walked through the door, looking pissed.

She didn’t bother standing up, to make a point of being put out, but when he stalked over to the sofa, she sat up straighter.

“What is this?” he demanded, showing her the screen of her text message.

Her heart picked up speed, and the unpleasant sensation of being in trouble tightened her belly into a knot. All her sulkiness disappeared in the face of his anger. She stood up, suddenly not enjoying looking up at him. “Well, I —”

“Unacceptable,” he said, tossing his phone onto the glass coffee table. He unbuttoned the cuff of one sleeve and started to roll it up. “I understand I disrespected your time, but we do have an agreement: you are available to me. Not the other way around.”

Her body went limp with instinctual submission to his dominance. Her bottom tingled in expectation of punishment.

He rolled up the other cuff. “I am sorry I didn’t make it here on time. I got tied up with something unavoidable. It was not my plan to stand you up. But you don’t send me messages like this.
Ever.
”

She stared at him with wide eyes and swallowed. “I’m sorry,” she managed.

He walked into the bedroom and she trailed behind him. He went straight into the bathroom and emerged with her wooden hairbrush.

She stopped breathing.

He walked back out to the living room, sat down on the couch and patted his thighs, looking up at her with the same stern gaze he’d been wearing since he walked in. “Pull down your pants and lay over my lap.”

Her anger had morphed into defiance, but it conflicted with a sense of guilt. She didn’t like being in trouble with Bobby. Not because she feared him, but because... well, she wanted his positive attention. She needed his approval.

Fuck.
She wanted his love.

She obeyed his command, slipping her pajama pants down and kneeling beside him to drape herself over his lap.

He started spanking with his hand, her thin lacy panties doing nothing to protect her backside from his onslaught. He spanked hard and fast, one cheek, then the other, then square in the middle. She squirmed as the fire began to set in.

He paused and yanked her panties down, ripping them with the motion. He began to spank again, this time with the hairbrush, which seemed to at least double the force of impact. She squeezed her cheeks together and straightened her legs, stiffening like a surfboard.

“Push your ass out,” he commanded.

She didn’t move for a moment and he didn’t resume, clearly waiting for her to follow his instructions. She considered ignoring them, but realized it would get her nowhere. She was the one folded over his lap with her panties down. She released her clenched butt muscles and hollowed her back, presenting her butt for his punishment.

“Thank you,” he said. He began to spank again, methodically, evenly, one side then the other, right on the place where cheek met thigh.

She began to sweat, panting and wriggling over his lap.

“I’m sorry!” she gasped when it hurt too much to take any more, reaching back to try to cover her butt. Bobby grabbed her wrist and bent her arm behind her back, pinning it there while he continued to apply rapid fire smacks to the lower half of her bottom. To her surprise, he shifted the grasp on her wrist so he held her hand instead, as if offering tenderness or support while he spanked so hard she wanted to crawl out of her skin.

She whimpered, the first sound she’d allowed to come out of her clamped lips. After another minute of steady spanking, her stoicism crumbled and she began to vocalize, emitting little cries and whimpers as he showed no sign of ceasing.