Chapter Twelve
Jessie watched Tony leave the diner, followed only seconds later by Jameson. The man was an idiot. If he had any intention of keeping his connection to Tony a secret, he’d just blown it. Though the arrogant stooge probably didn’t care.
Then again, Tony wouldn’t be the first bootlegger the agent had invited to a civilized lunch so they could discuss “business.” It gave him the chance to let the enemy know he was keeping an eye on things, do a little light interrogating in a non-threatening environment, while allowing him to charge a free lunch to the Feds’ bill. Jessie had been invited to just such a lunch in the not-too-distant past. It didn’t necessarily mean Tony was on Jameson’s side.
But it didn’t look good.
Jessie took a deep breath past the lump in her throat. She was taking this too personally. She’d suspected Tony was in cahoots with Jameson, had known Tony was only interested in her for her connection to the Phoenix. Still, thinking you knew something and being confronted with proof were two entirely different things. Especially in light of her growing feelings for him. Feelings that she needed to bump off before she got in way over her head.
“Where are you going now, you little rat fink?” she muttered to herself, her eyes narrowing as Tony hurried across the road to her side of the street.
She hadn’t meant to follow him. She’d been out running a few errands when she’d seen him huddled over a cuppa joe with that sniveling excuse for a man, Jameson. And the sight had hurt far more than she’d expected. He certainly seemed like he was in a rush now. Jessie set off after him before she made the conscious decision to do so.
She followed him several blocks, the shops and apartment buildings getting more dilapidated as they went, until finally he turned down an alley between two of the tenements. She slowed up as she reached the corner, peeking around cautiously to see where he’d gone.
Tony was leaning over to kiss the head of an old woman who was sitting on a chair outside her stoop. About ten feet away. Jessie ducked back around the corner, but the old woman had spotted her, for sure. Maybe she wouldn’t say anything. Jessie turned to hurry off, just in case.
No such luck.
“Jessie?” Tony’s curious and highly displeased voice stopped her in her tracks.
She turned back around, head held high. He was the one who had some explaining to do. She was not going to apologize.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I’m sorry, I just…” She sighed. So much for not apologizing. Well, no point in trying to lie her way out of this one, even if she could. Evading, she could do. Lying, she wasn’t so good at.
“I was just running some errands and saw you…”
Tony’s eyebrow popped up, his face hardening, though the expression looked more defensive than accusatory.
“I saw you walking this way and thought I’d say hi.”
His face relaxed a bit. “Why didn’t you call out?”
The better question was why didn’t she admit she’d seen him with Jameson? She wasn’t sure herself. “Well, I wasn’t sure it was you, so…”
“Anthony? Who is your friend?”
Jessie peeked around Tony’s barrel of a chest. The old woman stood at the corner of the building, leaning on a cane, her white hair pulled back in a bun that was doing a lousy job of keeping her hair in order.
“Ma,” Tony said, immediately turning to take her arm, “you’ll tire yourself out. Go back and sit down.” He began to lead her back to her stoop but she pulled back to look at Jessie.
“Why don’t you bring your lady friend?”
Tony looked at Jessie almost helplessly and Jessie couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Solomon.”
Tony shot her an exasperated look but didn’t protest when she followed him back down the clothesline strewn alleyway to his mother’s stoop.
“Let’s go inside, Anthony. It’ll be much more comfortable for a little visit.”
Tony had a pained look on his face, but again he didn’t argue, just obeyed without comment. It was all Jessie could do to keep her amazement to herself. Her arrogant, bootlegging boss had turned into an obedient, albeit reluctant, mama’s boy.
Tony helped his mother up the steps that led into the building and into the first apartment just inside the door. Jessie followed them into a sparse but well-kept apartment.
“Please, sit down, deary,” Mrs. Solomon said, pointing at a threadbare armchair set up opposite an equally ragged sofa.
“How about a nice cup of tea?”
“Oh, I don’t want to be any trouble.”
“Nonsense! Anthony will get us all set up. He’s quite handy in the kitchen.”
“He is, hmm?” Jessie smiled and Tony glared at her. Which only made Jessie smile wider. She just could not picture this man aproned up and running amuck in a kitchen.
“Ma, I don’t think—”
“Oh hush. Go on now and let me get acquainted with your friend.”
Tony headed to the kitchen, giving Jessie what she assumed was a warning glare as he passed her. Only what he was warning against, she had no idea.
“Now, what is your name, my dear?”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m Jessica Harlan. I’m very pleased to meet you.”
“Miss Harlan. And how do you know my Anthony?”
“I um, well…”
Jessie had no idea what this woman might or might not know about her son’s activities. She certainly didn’t want to be the one to spoil any family secrets.
Luckily, Tony piped up from the small kitchen where he was putting the kettle on. “I met Jessie in her butcher shop a few weeks ago.”
“Oh, you’re a butcher? How interesting.”
Jessie smiled politely.
“She’s also just started singing in my club, though that took a little convincing.”
Jessie’s gaze shot to Tony’s, her mouth open in surprise. So, apparently his mother knew everything about her son.
“Ah, so you’re the one?”
“Pardon?”
“Ma,” Tony said in a warning tone.
“Oh, Anthony, why don’t you grab us a few cookies out of that new tin you brought me the other day.” She leaned forward and patted Jessie’s hand. “Anthony always brings me the yummiest treats. He’s such a good boy.”
Good boy wasn’t really how Jessie would describe him, but he did seem to be a wonderful son. In fact, watching him putter in his mother’s kitchen, carefully handing her a cup of tea with her favorite cookies, was making Jessie all warm and gooey inside. A feeling she wanted to rip out and strangle before it took hold. She could not afford to see this man as anything other than the information-digging bootlegger that he was. Hard to do when his sweet, white-haired mother was gazing at him adoringly.
“They look delicious,” Jessie said, since his mother seemed to be waiting for her to say something.
Mrs. Solomon nodded. “He serves them at his club. Brings me home the extras,” she said with a smile.
“That’s very kind of him.”
“It’s a definite perk. But then he was always fond of his sweets. Even as a little boy. Couldn’t keep him away from the stuff. He had the cutest chubby cheeks…”
“Ma!”
“Well, you did,” she insisted.
Jessie put her hand over her mouth to hide her laughter. Tony just shook his head, though Jessie didn’t miss the smile he gave his mother before he turned back to the kitchen. Jessie could barely keep an Awww from escaping. It was too sweet for words.
She’d once had someone tell her that you could tell how a man would treat you by how he treated his mother. Good advice—and some she wished she’d taken before she’d gotten involved with Mario Russo, that was for sure. The man had ripped her heart out even before he’d betrayed her to Willie. Maybe if she’d seen him with his mother she’d have had a clue about his true nature before she’d gotten in too deep.
If that advice was sound, though, perhaps Tony Solomon wasn’t so bad after all, no matter who he might be mixed up with. Surely any man who could be so gentle and kind to his mother was decent.
“So.” Mrs. Solomon settled back in her chair with a sigh. “You’re a butcher. That’s a bit unusual for a woman.”
“I suppose,” Jessie said. “My father ran the shop, and when he died I took over.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Has he been gone long?”
“Two years.”
“And your mother?”
Tony came in from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel, and sat down on the couch beside his mother. He grabbed a handful of cookies and settled back, waiting for her answer.
Jessie squirmed. They hadn’t ever spoken of personal things. Nothing real. They danced around the real issues each was trying to find out about the other, flirted a little. More than a little. But most of that wasn’t genuine. Except maybe that episode in the car…it had been fast, spur of the moment, but surely the heat and emotion that had been palpable behind it hadn’t been faked.
She looked away from him, trying to keep her damn cheeks from betraying her feelings yet again.
Mrs. Solomon was waiting for her answer.
“My mother’s been gone since I was little.”
“Oh, my dear, that’s such a shame. She must have been young when she died.”
Jessie shifted on her chair and put her cookie back on her saucer. “She didn’t die. She just left.”
The sudden silence in the room made Jessie look up. Mrs. Solomon looked as though she were trying to come up with something to say. Tony was staring at her with an intensity that made her squirm.
“It’s all right,” she assured them. “Dad and I did fine together. I helped him run the shop and he taught me everything I needed to know. We took care of each other.”
Mrs. Solomon reached over and patted her on the knee. “You’re a strong one. Got a good head on your shoulders. I like you,” she declared, settling back against her cushions again.
Jessie couldn’t help but smile at her.
“And now you are singing in Anthony’s club.”
“Ma,” Tony said.
“Oh, you hush. You never tell me anything fun. What’s it like getting all dolled up and singing onstage, Jessie? I always wanted to be in one of those vaudeville shows. Is it like that?”
Jessie laughed and answered as many of Mrs. Solomon’s questions as she could. When Tony finally stood and said it was time that they left, Jessie was surprised to find an hour had passed.
“Thank you for the tea, Mrs. Solomon. I enjoyed meeting you.”
“Oh, it was my pleasure, my dear. You come and visit me again, you hear?”
Jessie smiled shyly. “I’d love to.”
“And you, bring me more cookies next time you come. You’ve about cleaned me out again.”
She swatted her son on his arm, but he laughed and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I’ll see you later, Ma.”
Mrs. Solomon waved them off. Once they were outside, Tony offered Jessie his arm and she didn’t hesitate before taking it. She didn’t know his reasons for meeting with Jameson, and she knew she’d be a fool to trust him completely, but she just couldn’t believe that a man who loved his mother the way Tony obviously did was that bad.
“I’m sorry about all that,” Tony said. “My mother can be a bit…eccentric.”
“And how.”
Tony laughed.
“Honestly, though, I enjoyed myself.”
“I’m glad,” Tony said, smiling down at her. He pulled her a little closer and steered her down the sidewalk back toward the diner.
They walked in companionable silence for a few minutes and Jessie found herself wishing they were two normal people. Just a normal couple, maybe going on their first date. No speakeasies, no Agent Jamesons between them. Just Jessie and Tony.
Unfortunately, wishing wouldn’t make all the obstacles between them disappear.
When they got to the diner, Tony paused. “Are you hungry? We could stop in, get a bite to eat.”
Jessie hesitated. She wanted to say yes. What could a little dinner hurt? A girl had to eat.
But instead, she looked up into those deep brown eyes of his and pulled away. “I umm…I’d better be getting back to the shop. Joe will be wanting to close up soon.”
Tony’s lips pressed together, but he nodded. “Sure. I understand.”
He stepped out to the curb and waved his arm to flag down a cab. When one pulled up, he opened the back door for her and held out a hand to help her inside.
“I enjoyed spending the afternoon with you, Jessie.”
“I enjoyed it too,” she said quietly. She let him hold her hand as she slid into the cab. When he didn’t relinquish it, she looked up at him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night then.”
Jessie nodded, holding her breath when he brought her hand to his lips. “Have a pleasant evening, Jessie.”
“You too, Tony.”
He nodded at her, eyes locked, until the cab pulled off.
Jessie leaned her head back against the seat and kicked herself for not saying yes to dinner. She knew it was the smart thing to do, but sometimes playing it smart was a real drag.