“Hank,” she started, then remembered she had an audience. Then she didn’t care that she had an audience. “Hank, I’ve served him at Benedict’s.”
He whistled under his breath while he set rolls out on the counter. “I forget sometimes that you know several of the more prominent people in the city.”
She wanted to scream. “Hank, listen to me. You can’t sell your place to him.”
Her tone suddenly reached him, and he stopped all movement and looked full at her. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m telling you. I served him at Benedict’s. Hank, he implied that I could be bought.”
His expression was blank for a moment, before rage over took it. “What are you talking about?” he bellowed.
She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin. “Just that. He implied he could buy me. You’ll just have to tear up the contracts.”
“Tony wouldn’t do that. You’re either mistaken or lying.” The man at the counter spoke for the first time, and she whipped her head around to look at him.
“How do you know?”
“Because I know.” He rose to his feet and she had to lift her head to keep eye contact. “He wouldn’t, and he wouldn’t have to.”
“He did.”
“I seriously doubt it.”
She recognized him now. He drank a Shirley Temple one night a couple of weeks ago in the bar. Then she suddenly realized where she’d seen Viscolli that day at Benedict’s when she’d been sure that she’d seen him before. They’d come in together, a Shirley Temple and a ginger ale. “He all but said the words.”
“That’s not the same as saying them.”
Dismissing him, because he was clearly Tony’s crony, she turned her attention back to Hank. “Listen to me, he – ”
“What exactly did he say?” Barry asked.
She sighed, and with an embarrassed flush, she relayed the conversation she’d had with that man.
Hank frowned and looked at Barry then back at Robin. “You could almost read anything into that, Robin.”
“You can’t read anything into it that isn’t there.”
Barry interrupted again. “Maybe he was simply flirting.”
“Flirting?” She turned and faced him fully. “Mr. Anderson, I’ve worked at Benedict’s for six years. The men who are members there and who dine there do not flirt with the wait staff. They sleep with them, pay them – or some of them anyway – but there is no casual flirting.”
He raised an eyebrow. “In the last six years, have you ever served Antonio Viscolli?”
“Not that I can recall, other than that one time.”
“Don’t be so quick to lump him into a category, Miss Bartlett. You’ll find he doesn’t fit.”
Snarling at the man who was so obviously the greaseball’s wingman, she turned back to Hank. “Are you not going to pay any attention to what I told you?”
He glared at her. “Don’t be insulting, Robin. I heard every word and I’ll look into it.”
“But – ”
“I said I’d look into it.”
She let out a breath and nodded. “Okay. Okay, thanks.” She turned and looked at the other man, but didn’t speak. Then she started toward the back door. “I’m going back home and going back to bed.”
CHAPTER 5
ROWING up, Tony knew nothing of boundaries or rules. When he gave his life to the Lord, he made a personal vow to always play by the rules. Usually, he did. In this case, though, he felt he had to cross a few boundaries – not necessarily break rules, but just toe a line. Or two. Today those boundaries included looking through personnel files until he obtained a certain home address.
He climbed the threadbare stairs to the third floor, walked down the long hallway, and scanned the apartment numbers on the doors until he came to the one he sought. He paused, took a deep breath and rapped on the door with his bare knuckles.
He expected Robin to open the door, take one look at him, and snarl. To his surprise, when the door swung open, he came face to face with one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. She stood nearly as tall as he, with long straight black hair, almond shaped eyes, and dark skin. She was obviously of Native American descent, but her green eyes told a story of mixed blood.
“May I help you?” she asked over the rock music pounding out of the stereo from somewhere in the apartment.
Giving her his warmest smile, he slipped his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I’m looking for Robin.”
“Robin?” She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Robin Bartlett. She does live here, doesn’t she?”
She grinned at him while she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the door frame. “My sister Robin? A man is here to see my sister Robin?”
It was impossible not to return her smile. “I would hope that’s what I am.”
She laughed and straightened. “Please, come in. If you’re a psycho with a knife, just don’t sneak up behind me. I really hate that.” She held her hand out. “I’m Maxine. Call me Maxi.”
He gave her cool fingers a slight squeeze. “Tony.”
She gestured toward a worn couch as she flipped off the stereo. “Have a seat. I have no idea where she went or when she’ll be back, but I’m guessing it will be soon. It’s Sunday, and she’s always home on Sundays.”
He nodded as he sat on the couch and relaxed against the cushions. “Actually, I saw her not twenty minutes ago.”
Maxine raised an eyebrow. Tony could tell she wanted to ask questions, but refrained. “Can I offer you anything to drink, Tony?”
“No, thanks.” He leaned forward with his knees on his elbows. “I should warn you, though. Robin won’t exactly be excited to see me.”
Maxine started laughing. “Oh, this is too good,” she said. Still laughing, she gestured at her outfit of shorts and an oversized sweatshirt. “Excuse me while I change into something more appropriate for company.” Her voice carried to him as she walked down the hallway. “This is just too good.”
He stayed where she had seated him, but inspected the room in her absence. It could have fit into his closet, he thought, wondering how two girls lived together in such a small space. There was room for the couch, an overstuffed chair, a scarred coffee table, and crammed into the corner was a small television. A bar separated the kitchen from the living room. The kitchen looked like it was just big enough to have the smallest of tables in it. One person would be cramped living here for any length of time.
Seconds later, Maxine returned, still in the sweatshirt, but now wearing a pair of jeans. “So, what brings you here today, Tony?”
He toyed with the ring on his finger. “I thought I’d try to convince your sister to celebrate my birthday with me tonight.” He glanced at her. “Think I could talk her into it?”
Throwing herself onto the couch opposite him, she curled her legs underneath her and grinned. “You say you don’t think she’ll really appreciate you coming by?”
“Yes, though that may be an understatement.”
She laughed again. “Oh, this will be good.”
He cut her a look from the corner of his eyes. “You keep saying that.”
She reached out with a long arm and playfully poked his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re not an ax murderer or a bill collector?”
He frowned. “I’m afraid not. Why do you ask?”
“Because you may wish you had some kind of weapon before it’s all said and done.” She looked at her watch. “If she’s not back by two, I’m going to have to call and cancel a date. I can’t miss this.”
Remembering the spark in Robin’s eyes the last time she looked at him, Tony smiled.
Both heads turned expectantly as the door opened, and Tony watched a woman walk in whose frame was small enough that she could easily pass for a child. She had curly, curly brown hair and an almost porcelain complexion. She made him think of a pixie.
“Hello,” she said in a soft v
oice, staring at him with large hazel eyes set behind a pair of wire framed glasses. “Are you Dwayne?”
Maxine laughed. “No, he’s not coming until two.” Maxine gestured between the two. “Sarah, Tony. Tony, my sister Sarah.” She grinned at her sister. “Sarah, Tony’s here to see Robin.”
Sarah’s eyes widened and she slowly lowered herself into the chair. “Robin? Really?” She looked at Tony again, a closer inspection, and the wonder on her face grew. “Our Robin? Goodness.”
Tony began to question whether coming here had been a wise decision. He shifted uncomfortably and leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. “Maybe I should just come back another time.”
Maxine sprang to her feet. “No. No, don’t do that.” She looked at her sister and back at Tony. “We’re not trying to make you uncomfortable. I apologize. We’re just surprised, that’s all.”
“Why?”
Maxine shoved her hands in her pockets and ran her tongue over her teeth. “Well … “ The door opened, cutting off her next words.
Tony felt a little anticipated excitement skirt along his spine. This time Robin entered, carrying a grocery sack, her face flushed from the bite of Fall in the air. “You aren’t going to believe this,” she said. She had her back to them, securing the locks on the door as she spoke. “I was just at Hank’s … ”
She turned around and froze. Her eyes darted from Tony to Maxine to Sarah and back to Tony. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me!”
He smoothly made it to his feet. “Hello, Robin.”
She bared her teeth at him. “You’re like a bad penny. No. A bad dream.” She stormed toward the kitchen. “A nightmare.”
Wondering if it was wise, especially considering the innumerable weapons that could be found in a standard kitchen, he followed her. He leaned against the doorway and watched her slam the bag of groceries onto the top of a small table. He watched her open and shut cupboards nearly hard enough to break them off at the hinges as she put the items away. The whole time she muttered under her breath.
He flinched a little at her colorful language before he spoke. “I talked to Hank right after you left.”
She whirled around, surprised to see him right there. “Did I ask?”
He continued as though she had. “I feel it is important for us to clear the air.”
The grocery bag was empty and she suddenly had nothing to do with her hands. Feeling like she was at an incredible disadvantage, she leaned against the small stove and crossed her arms over her chest. “So you invade my house and consume my personal time? If you want to clear the air, you can do it during my working hours.”
He straightened and came all the way into the room, filling up the small space, stopping just a few feet from her. “This has nothing to do with business, Robin. It’s all personal.”
“Nothing between us is personal.”
He moved forward one more step. She could almost feel the heat radiating from his body. “I think that there is a very serious misunderstanding between us that needs to be cleared up right away.”
She tilted her chin up, almost looked down her nose at him. He had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from grinning. “Are you talking about your implication that I could be bought?”
He held up a finger. “See? There it is. I never implied that.”
“Ha!” She straightened and threw her hair over her shoulder. “Now you’re a liar and a jerk. Wow. All of the things I thought about you are panning out to be true. And they say one should never judge by first impressions alone.” His eyes hardened and for the slightest moment, she felt fear. Then she got mad at the feeling. “Go away.”
“At what point did I imply that you would be willing to trade sex for money?”
She stepped forward and put her hands on her hips. He didn’t think she realized that they were almost nose to nose. “You implied it when you said my job was in your hands and then asked me what I’d do to keep it. You acted on it when you left me that tip.”
Her eyes had darkened to near indigo, and they sizzled with anger. He resisted every urge inside him that screamed to touch her, to soothe her. “That tip wasn’t payment to get you into my bed.”
“No?” She raised an eyebrow. “Was its purpose not to make me remember you, to fawn after you, to perhaps flirt back the next time you happened to be seated at a table I serve?”
He saw where she was leading and grinned. “Yeah.”
“Then I would be flattered that the oh so rich Antonio Viscolli actually showed an interest in little dirt poor me, and then I would perhaps jump at the opportunity for a date with you, which would, I’m sure, be scheduled out to end up with us having sex.”
He couldn’t take it anymore. Just one touch, whether or not he lost the finger. He reached out and found a strand of her hair, letting it wind its way around his finger. “It isn’t quite as cut and dry as that, Robin.”
His voice was very quiet. She felt it almost as much as she heard it, and his words sent a thrill through her that she didn’t recognize or understand. But she didn’t like it, especially coming from him. “Please don’t touch me.”
For a long time he searched her eyes, holding her stare until she wanted to twitch. Then he let go of her hair and stepped away. Shaking with rage, she pushed past him and stormed out of the kitchen. Maxine and Sarah weren’t even hiding the fact that they had been standing at the bar, listening to the entire conversation. “I’m going to bed,” she told them through gritted teeth. She stopped just before her bedroom door and threw over her shoulder, “Alone.”
Sarah and Maxine cringed at the sound of the bedroom door slamming, but Tony leaned against the bar on the kitchen side. “Well,” he said, “that went better than I’d anticipated.”
Sarah looked at him with her mouth open. “Are you out of your mind? What was it that went so well?”
“Well,” he breathed between clenched teeth, “I’m not bleeding, I still have all of my operating parts, and my voice isn’t ten octaves higher.”
Maxine started laughing, laughing so hard she had to sit on an arm of the chair. She laughed until tears ran out of her face, then slowly straightened and wiped her eyes. Tony couldn’t help smiling in return. “Oh, I like you. Can I keep you?”
Sarah looked between the two of them and shook her head. “Maybe you should leave,” she said to Tony. “I don’t know you and I don’t think that Robin wants you here.”
Maxine stood up and brushed Sarah off with the wave of her hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s his birthday. We must celebrate.”
“Maxine,” Sarah said under her breath. “Robin … ”
“… needs this.” She rounded the corner to the kitchen and elbowed Tony out of her way. “Move over. I’m going to bake you a cake.”
“You’re going to bake me a cake?” He stared at her in disbelief.
“Sure.” She turned her head and looked at her sister, who was staring at them both with a mixture of fear and excitement. “And Sarah’s going to go to the store and buy the makings of a birthday feast.”
Sarah took a step back and held up her hands as if to ward her off. “No way. I’m not having any part in this.”
She dug through a drawer until she came up with a pen and a pad of paper. “Actually, Tony may need to go with you. I’m not going to trust you not to come back with tofu or sprouts or soy milk or some other inedible oddity.”
She quickly wrote out a list then grabbed her purse off of the kitchen table. “Just around the corner is a little market. It should have everything you need, so you won’t even have to drive.” She pulled out her wallet and counted out some money. “Here. This should be enough.”
He just looked at the money then back at her, feeling out of control of the situation for the first time in fifteen years. “Really, you don’t have to do this.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I think it’s great.” Since he wasn’t moving, she picked up his hand and slapped the list and the money into his palm. “It?
??s about time things got shaken up a bit around here.”
He stared down at their joined hands. He could still smell Robin all around him, and suddenly thought that it was all a great idea. “Okay, but you don’t need to give me any money. I can handle it.”
“No one’s buying their own dinner on their own birthday when I’m around.” She turned him around and pushed between his shoulder blades. “Go on. I’ll see you two back in a bit.”
“Maxine,” Sarah said. She was still standing in the same position. “I’m not having anything to do with this.”
Maxine grinned at her while Tony held the door open, waiting. “Sure you are. You have to show him where the shop is. Don’t be rude to our guest, Sarah.”
Sarah tried to stare her down, but Tony watched as she fidgeted with her glasses then let out an uncomfortable breath. “I will accept no responsibility.”
Maxine smiled. “What a surprise.”
“When it all hits the fan, none of it is going to come back and hit me.” She stepped out the door and turned around. “You hear me, Maxi?”
Maxine laughed and shut the door behind them.
HE dreamt of him, in a very surreal, very light dream. They stood on the banks of a river, dressed in white. The warm sun shone down from a bright blue sky, and the softly blowing breeze caught the hem of her dress, slowly moving it around her bare legs.
He wore white trousers and a white top, making his skin seem darker, his teeth whiter. They laughed and danced on the grass while butterflies fluttered around them. Then his eyes grew serious and his lips touched hers.
Lost in each other, they fell onto the blanket that suddenly appeared on the grass at their feet. His mouth felt gentle, loving, glorious. Her hands moved in lazy patterns across his back, feeling the hard muscles, loving his strength. He raised his head and smiled down at her, and she saw the need inside her reflected in his eyes.
Then his eyes changed. They became light blue, glassy, red-rimmed. The face lightened, widened, hardened, until she was staring at HIM. The bank of the river disappeared, the grass faded, the air chilled. Suddenly, she was in her bed. The single bed with the lumpy mattress and dirty sheets.
A hand covered her mouth, forcing her to breathe through her nose, to smell the gin and tobacco on his breath, the stench making her stomach roll.