Deception Page 20

  A pang of guilt flitted across my conscience.

  If I want to know all about her, then I owe her the same.

  “She…” I said, ignoring the inner voice, “…doesn’t talk much about her life before Stanford.”

  “It’s not my place to say, but if you ask me, in some ways, Alex started living when she went out west. Unfortunately, what she was doing before—living or merely surviving—is trying to suck her back into its black-hole abyss.”

  My neck straightened, the hairs on my arms standing to attention with his warning. I could only assume that he was referring to the calls and even the letter telling her to go back to Savannah.

  Patrick was right. It wasn’t his place to tell me. It was up to Charli. But if it was that serious, then we needed to talk.

  “Thanks for taking my call,” I said, “and for letting me in. I should take her back to our place and let you get some sleep.”

  Patrick moved his head back and forth. “No, man, let her rest. I’ll show you to her room.” His lips quirked to a grin. “And for the record, as I said earlier, if you’d not given me the right answer, I’d be showing you the door out of here.”

  My brows rose. You and what army? That was what I wanted to say, but instead, I smiled.

  Patrick was obviously protective of my Charli, and I liked that. I knew from experience I couldn’t always be around. I could have Deloris, Isaac, and Clayton nearby. Charli could wear a GPS necklace that allowed me to see her exact location at the touch of an app, but nothing compared to having someone who loved you looking out for you. If this runt was willing to take me on for her, he was all right in my book.

  “Glad I met your approval.” This time they were his brows that rose, and I suddenly remembered which way his boat sailed.

  “Oh, yes, you do. But since we’re both taken, and you bat for the other team, might as well let Alex have the fun.”

  I just laughed as I followed him down a hallway.

  Patrick stopped at a door and inclined his head. “Help her.” He flattened his lips to a straight line. “Oh and that thing I mentioned about sleep, about it being underrated? Well, I do have work tomorrow… or today… so keep it down.”

  I didn’t take orders well, but there was something in his voice that caused my smile to grow as I nodded.

  He turned and walked away as I reached for the knob and turned it. Pushing the door open, I searched the room, and as my eyes adjusted, I saw small slits of light from the night sky that fell from between the blinds. Illuminated by stripes of moonlight and stretched out on a bed smaller than the one we usually shared was my Charli, her body covered with blankets. Her beautiful hair flowed over the pillow, the auburn waves more brown than red in the semidarkness. As I inched closer, I watched as her chest rose and fell in a quiet rhythm. She was sound asleep. Every muscle of my body ached to lean down and kiss her slightly parted lips, to wake her and explore some of the demands that had skirted across my thoughts just moments ago.

  Instead, I pulled my phone from my slacks pocket and pounded out a text message.

  Me: “PICK ME UP AT THE FRONT OF PATRICK’S BUILDING AT 6. I’M SPENDING THE REST OF THE NIGHT HERE.”

  Isaac: “YES, SIR.”

  Laying my phone on the bedside stand, I eased out of my clothes, leaving them folded on a nearby chair. With only my boxers remaining, I locked the door. Another door was slightly ajar and I found a bathroom. It’d been a long day. The tall shower looked incredibly inviting. It would feel wonderful to get in and wash it all away, but the pull from the woman in the bed was too strong. She was a magnet that I couldn’t resist.

  After I finished in the bathroom, splashing my face with water and quickly using her toothbrush, I returned to the bedroom. Pulling back the blankets, my cheeks rose. Usually, Charli slept in nothing, or maybe she started in a nightgown but by the time we fell asleep, her warm skin was fully at my disposal. Tonight she was wearing soft shorts and a shiny top with delicate straps that draped over her slender shoulders. Even in the dimness, I saw goose bumps materialize as she shivered at the loss of blankets. Still asleep, she pulled her arms and legs closer to her body.

  I eased into the bed, spooning behind her. With my chin above her head as I settled against the soft pillow, my nose wrinkled as her hair tickled it. Flowers and perfume filled my lungs as her round ass fit perfectly against my hips. For the first time since I’d left her in Westchester County, I relaxed, each and every muscle in my body releasing tension as I wrapped her in my arms and she melted against me.

  With a deep sigh, I covered us with the blankets.

  All at once, Charli gasped and tensed. Then she turned, her small hands moving up my chest and framing my face. In the darkened room, her eyes opened, blinking as if she couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing.

  “Y-you’re here?” Her voice was thick with sleep.

  I kissed her forehead and nodded, my kisses raining downward over her nose and finally her lips. “Yes, princess, I’m here.”

  “But, why? You’re in Washington.”

  “No. I was in Washington. Now I’m here. You are more important than anything there or anywhere.”

  She shook her head. “You shouldn’t have. I don’t want to interrupt your work.”

  I pulled her closer, the soft material of her top doing little to cover the pebbling her earlier chill had brought to her nipples, now against my bare chest. “Never, ever, think anything is more important than you. You were upset.”

  Charli continued to move her head back and forth. “No, Nox. It’s what he said. I don’t want to do that to you. I’ll be upset. You don’t have to take care of me or rescue me.”

  He said?

  “I don’t have to,” I confirmed. “I want to. I want to be there for you, when you’re upset, when you’re happy…” My hands roamed down the small of her back and over her round ass. “…and whenever you breathe.”

  Charli sighed as she melted against me and tilted her head against my chest. “Thank you.”

  I started to ask her what she was talking about when she said something about it being what he said, but by the way her body fit perfectly against mine, the way her breathing steadied, and the way she relaxed in my arms, I let her sleep.

  “I love you, princess.”

  Her unspoken contentedness was all I needed to drift away.

  PEOPLE EASED THEIR way between tables, filling most of the chairs. I watched as some people took more than their fair share of space. For a weeknight, the little restaurant off the beaten path was crowded. It was a local treasure. Tourists liked the flashy new places, but this was where the residents congregated, where the food and drinks never disappointed. From my vantage point, I could see the entire room. It was mostly filled with couples, sipping wine and talking close. That was what couples did: they leaned near one another and shared their space, their breath.

  If I were home, I might be doing that. Who was I kidding? More than likely not.

  I glanced again at my watch. I was early, waiting for Vincent to arrive. It was one of those meetings that I couldn’t or wouldn’t miss. Since he’d taken over the family business, my command appearances were required less frequently than they’d been under Carmine’s regime. Since Carmine had passed away, somehow Vincent’s less frequent requests made them seem more significant, as if each one was of extreme importance.

  It didn’t matter that it was nearly ten o’clock or that I’d promised Angelina I’d be home early tonight. My marriage and the happiness of it was less of a concern to Angelina’s cousin than it had been to her uncle.

  Vincent was all about profit, money, and keeping it flowing.

  The world was changing and my attempt at legitimate business was the kick-start the Costellos needed and utilized. While his father had been more old-school, Vincent was younger—my age—and saw the promising ways of the future: the new millennium and technology.

  No longer did families need bodies on every corner, watching from the shadows.
Surveillance technology was the new answer. One man could watch dozens or more places of business. Conversations could be heard, everything up to the dropping of a pen. Secrets were getting harder and harder to conceal, and it was just the way Vincent liked it.

  The guys younger than us admired his fortitude as well as his savvy. Vincent was branching out by including other families, ones his father had ignored.

  I had to admit that Angelina’s cousin was smart. He also had a level head. It was a lethal combination.

  The families weren’t the only ones with the ability to listen and record. Hell, the feds had done it to them in the eighties. Now it was sleeker and more sophisticated and didn’t require the muscle of the old days. Cameras and bugs uncovered dirt—knowledge. As they say, knowledge was power.

  Vincent Costello was all about power.

  I looked down at the screen of my Blackberry. The little handheld device was revolutionary. I could check email, look up information on my companies, see stocks in real time, and even send messages to my wife.

  The problem was with receiving messages from Angelina. She had to send them first.

  From my Manhattan office I texted her after I’d received Vincent’s call and explained that there wasn’t time for me to go home to Westchester and then make it back to Brooklyn. At the most I would have been home for an hour or two.

  It made more sense for me to stay at the office and do my daily analysis.

  She’d yet to respond.

  Some of the different companies, businesses, enterprises—whatever I called them—beneath the Demetri umbrella required constant supervision. Ledgers needed to be watched. In the world of business, I had many qualified employees, vice presidents and CEO’s of minor subsidiaries. I didn’t trust one of them, not one.

  Thankfully, as technology improved so did my ability to oversee. I had daily, weekly, and monthly reports. I had accountants who double-checked the first set of accountants. It was a checks-and-balances system to rival any, and it worked. Demetri Enterprises was growing, buying, and expanding. I’d moved beyond the boroughs, beyond the East Coast.

  In the last year, I’d taken Demetri Enterprises international.

  London was ripe for everything financial. The time zone alone set it apart.

  More and more production was happening in Asia. At the start of business in London, it was the close of business in Japan and by noon, New York was waking. No wonder it was the financial mecca. And the farther I ventured from New York, the more independent Demetri Enterprises became. Of course, it wasn’t completely free of family obligation. If it were, I’d be home right now, instead of sipping a watered-down whiskey and waiting for the rest of my party to join me.

  I checked my Blackberry again. Nothing from Angelina.

  No doubt, she was pissed off.

  Again.

  I’d promised to be there. Tonight was a dinner with a new family that had moved in down the street. Part of the appeal of Rye for me had been the large parcels of land. It wasn’t like the brownstones in Brooklyn, one right on top of the next. In Westchester County we didn’t need to know our neighbors. That wasn’t my wife’s attitude. She thrived on people and community.

  I tried, I did. But I didn’t have time for backyard barbeques or football games or any of the other thousands of things she wanted to do.

  If it weren’t for Silvia—Carmine’s present for doing my duty nearly five years ago—I’d feel guiltier.

  Who would have thought of a person as a gift?

  That was essentially what Silvia had been. Five years older than Lennox, Carmine gave her to us. Yes, she was meant to help Angelina around the house, but she’d also become ours to raise. Over the last five years, her role had gone from domestic help to something between a younger sister and daughter for Angelina. At least once she was with us it stopped the talk about another child.

  Fifteen years old when she arrived, Silvia was nervous and uneducated. Domestic work was all she’d ever done. Her biological mother basically sold her off as house staff to the Costellos when she was barely a teenager.

  It could have been worse for her. Unfortunately, I’d been around enough to see that too. But Angelina wasn’t satisfied with a maid: she insisted on more. Silvia became her new obsession. That wasn’t to imply that she neglected Lennox—she didn’t. With a son and a daughter, Angelina was busy day and night.

  Under Angelina’s tutelage, Silvia studied, passed her GED, and was now enrolled in college courses. Of course, she also helped take care of the house and was—to my great surprise—an excellent cook. In many ways Silvia had become my wife’s best friend. The change in Silvia’s demeanor since she arrived was nothing short of phenomenal. She was now confident, a quick learner, and everything that Angelina would want in a daughter. Not to mention she wasn’t homely.

  When she first came to us, Silvia had been skinny and lanky. That wasn’t the case today. Though her heritage wasn’t Italian, she’d perfected the behavior. If she were met on the street, no one would know that she wasn’t a member of our family or that she’d once been sold off as nothing more than a maid.

  The bell on the front door of the restaurant jingled, alerting me that someone was entering or exiting. I recognized the two men walking my direction and stood as Vincent and Jimmy-the-enforcer approached. Jimmy had worked faithfully for Carmine until his death. Vincent obviously appreciated his service. Having Jimmy the man beside the head of the family was one of the few things that hadn’t changed.

  “Oren,” Vincent said with a nod as he sat, the three of us crowding near the far end of the table, back to the wall. Basic survival strategy.

  Almost immediately the dark-haired waitress was back to our table. On her tray she had Vincent’s and Jimmy’s drinks. There wasn’t any need to take their order—everyone knew who they were and what they drank. In this part of town, they were regulars. Their table was always ready.

  “I’m glad I was in town when you called,” I said, “What’s this about?”

  “Montague.”

  I almost choked on my whiskey as the name rolled off his tongue. Though I hadn’t thought about Russell Collins on a daily basis, the job Carmine had sent me on was the turning point in my life and career. I’d done my best to forget the choices made in California. It had been a risk and not one I wanted to repeat.

  More than once I’d thought about the wife and daughter Russell Collins described. I may have even looked them up, taken a small peek into their lives. Perhaps it was a sense of debt that I felt for my part in the price Russell had paid.

  “I recall that name,” I said nonchalantly. “What about it?”

  “I don’t know for sure how their paths crossed or why,” Vincent began as a prelude to whatever he was about to ask of me. “From what my father told me, there was something about shipping, transporting tobacco up and down the coast. Montagues are best known for their tobacco. High quality.

  “Anyway,” Vincent continued, “my father was able to reach some remarkable deals with the dockworkers. It was the seventies, the energy crisis. Before the big roundup and sting. Families had more respect. Old man Montague, who wasn’t too old then, was grateful.

  “Years later Montague helped my father out of financial straits. There was a debt my father owed, one that with accruing interest put more than a few of our family’s assets at risk. Exhausting his usual options, my father went to Montague. They were even. Until…”

  I didn’t need to hear until. I knew until. “Yes, I know that part. Now what?”

  “The old man wants our help again. The description fits him now. He’s getting older and concerned about the future of his name and company.”

  I stared into the melting ice cubes as I spun them mindlessly in my glass. “Cut to the point, Vinny. I’m not—”

  Vincent’s large hand fell to the table, loudly and very close to mine. “Oren, careful. We’re family, but even family is respectful. Tell me that you’re respectful.”

  “Yes. I�
�m respectful and thankful for all of the help…”

  “Surveillance.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “You know that we have some of the best equipment with some of the best people who watch out for our interests. Talking to Montague made me realize how everyone could benefit from that technology. Under your umbrella, you will form a security company. We’ll use our guys. It will look and sound legit.”

  I clenched my teeth as he continued to describe his plan for a new subsidiary of Demetri Enterprises.

  “One of the first jobs,” he went on, “and let me say, a lucrative one at that, will be for Montague.”

  I shook my head. “In his factories? On the dock? In his office buildings? What are we talking about? How many hubs? Round the clock?”

  “You get it started. Do what you do. Get other jobs so this one doesn’t stand out, but the main goal is his home and corporate office.”

  His home?

  I’d seen it when I checked on Collins’s wife and daughter. The thing was a castle. It was just missing the moat.

  “Have you seen his home?” I asked.

  Vincent’s eyes widened. “I have. Why have you?”

  “I did my research after… California.”

  “Then you know he has a daughter and his wife’s remarried?”

  I shrugged as if I hadn’t paid that close of attention to Russell Collins’s widow. As if I hadn’t watched her more than once in Savannah or seen her and her little girl.

  That night, years ago, at the bar, Collins had described his marriage as one from hell with a wife as cold and frigid as a witch’s tit. But that wasn’t what I’d seen. If I’d allow myself to have any feelings, one way or another, regarding Collins or his widow, I’d admit that I was glad she’d found someone after the death of her husband. She was too young and beautiful to spend the rest of her life alone.

  “Yes, I’d heard she had,” I replied casually.