Chapter Fifteen
The late nights were going to kill her. All she really wanted to do was curl up in the corner and sleep for a week. Charlie was helping out a lot, but he wasn’t able to fill in full time. Jessie might need to hire someone else if she was going to continue to sing at The Corkscrew and run things at The Red Phoenix. Luckily, Joe had things under control at The Red Phoenix the nights she wasn’t there, but she was still taking care of all of the paperwork and administrative tasks, as well as working at the club the nights she wasn’t at The Corkscew. She was wearing pretty thin. Perhaps she’d put an ad in the paper today for more help at the shop.
She slumped on the counter, banging her head against it a couple times. Why did she continue this? If she had any brains at all, she’d pack it up and get out of town. But a quick look around the shop where she’d grown up answered that question for her. This was her home. This shop was all she had left of her father. She couldn’t just leave it.
But she could close the speakeasy. Soon. She almost had the money she needed to finish paying off Willie with enough tucked away to ensure that she’d never have to worry about losing her father’s shop—no matter how slow business got. Once she had that security in place, she’d close The Red Phoenix and go back to being a full time butcher. Maybe she’d add a deli. And some baked goods.
Jessie smiled, enjoying her dreams of a simpler life. Someday, hopefully soon, she’d have that life. For now, it was time to close up shop and get ready to perform.
She couldn’t stop the quiver of pleasure that hit her at the thought of seeing Tony again. She sighed. The man was handsome enough to stop traffic. But he didn’t belong in her world. More to the point, she didn’t belong in his. In the Phoenix’s world, maybe they could coexist. Though, there he was her rival. Only interested in her for the information he could glean on the Phoenix. And that world wasn’t real. In this world, in her real world, she wasn’t sure if they belonged together. But, maybe they could overcome their differences, their pasts, and build something new together.
When the bell tinkled over her shop door, Jessie wearily dragged herself off the counter to help whoever had come in. She looked up to greet her customer and immediately froze. She was sure the smile she’d plastered on her face was more of a grimace and she tried hard to relax it into something more natural. Not so easy when one of the goons for the most ruthless bootlegger in the city was smiling at you from the other side of the counter. The fact he was her ex didn’t help either.
“Mario. What do you want?”
He removed his gloves and leaned against the counter, slapping them against his hand.
“That’s not a very polite way to greet an old friend.”
“I’m not sure what else you expect.”
“A kiss might be nice.” He leaned against the counter and gave her a look that had once turned her knees to jelly.
Mario had the dark and handsome thing going on, though he wasn’t as tall as Tony. And where Tony’s ruggedly handsome features filled Jessie with heat, like he was her own personal smoldering fire, Mario’s good looks were cold and distant, like a statue of some Greek god. Attractive, striking even, but there was no warmth beneath the surface. Something she wished she’d realized sooner.
“That’s not going to happen, Mario.”
“Well, a man can hope, eh?”
Jessie could remember the feel of his sinfully full lips pressing against hers, his hands hot and urgent on her skin. The memory filled her with revulsion now. She’d thought she was in love with him. Would have done anything for him. A fact he had exploited to the fullest. Jessie had told him everything, given up everything to him, all her secrets, all of her.
And he’d used her like a worthless piece of trash. Something Jessie hadn’t been aware of until after they’d been dating for several months and she’d caught him in bed with some nameless floozy.
Though what had really done her in was when he’d brought her to Willie’s attention. Escorted the man right through the front door of The Red Phoenix and parked him at the best table in the house. Being in debt to Willie had been bad enough. But at least all she’d had to do was drop discreet payments once a month in a mailbox uptown.
Being on his radar as a rival was intolerable. Mario hadn’t just broken her heart; he’d tried his best to ruin her life. The man was scum. And she couldn’t let her full feelings show because he was still Willie’s man and his goodwill could go a long way to making her life livable. Literally.
Thankfully, some small spark of self-preservation had kicked in and kept her from spilling all the beans about her club. Mario had known about The Red Phoenix and her involvement. But she hadn’t told him she was the Phoenix. Thank God.
So now, like everyone else, Willie thought she was just the current skirt the Phoenix was playing with. One he trusted enough to oversee things, but still, someone with very little power. And Jessie wanted to keep it that way. If they knew she was the Phoenix…she shuddered, trying to keep that thought at bay.
Jessie crossed her arms and waited.
“You’re late with your payment. I was sent to see if you needed any…assistance.”
“Oh! I’m sorry, I’ve been so busy, I forgot. I have it…”
“I should hope so, for your sake.” All trace of the charming guy she’d fallen for was gone, replaced by the coldhearted enforcer he really was.
Jessie swallowed. Her heart nearly in her throat. “It’s in my office. If you could just wait for a moment?”
Mario’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded. Jessie hurried down the stairs into the cellar and yanked open the door to the refrigerated room. The envelope with Willie’s payoff money was stashed between two slats near the door. She took a second to lean against the cool wall, trying to catch her breath.
How could she have been so stupid? It was bad enough to forget to pay a regular creditor, but to forget to pay Willie…it was tantamount to suicide.
Luckily, she’d been pulling in enough that she had a triple payment for him. That might ease some of his irritation at having to send one of his guys out to collect. Hopefully it wouldn’t pique his interest in her club. The tightrope she had to walk to keep all the jackals at bay was giving her stomach pains. The payment should be just enough to make Willie happy without being so much that he worried her speakeasy was becoming too much of a rival for his own.
She hoped she could make a similar payment the next month, which would pay Willie off once and for all. She would be glad to be free of at least one of the blades that seemed to be hanging over her head. And hopefully she’d never have to set eyes on Mario again.
She ran back up the stairs and slid the envelope across the counter. “Please convey my apologies. There is a triple payment in there. And I hope to be able to make the same next month, which should clear my debt.”
Mario cracked open the envelope and did a quick count, thumbing through the bills stacked inside.
“Very good. I was instructed to educate you on the importance of being punctual…”
Rigid with fear, Jessie stood her ground. She wouldn’t show Mario how terrified she was. It was like with bees and dogs… Willie’s goons could smell fear and it only spurred them on.
“However, since it does seem to just be an oversight, and since I’m still rather fond of you and all of your…softer parts,” he said, a little of his come-hither charm oozing back into his voice as his gaze raked over her, “and since you have an overpayment, no less, I think we can let this slide. I advise you not to let it happen again. Not even my influence will keep Willie at bay should he decide you need a lesson in good manners. And that face of yours is just too pretty to mess up, hmm?”
Jessie nodded, adrenaline making her knees weak. She put a trembling hand on the counter to steady herself. “It won’t happen again.”
“Good,” Mario said, slipping the envelope into his pocket. “Word is you’re singing at The Corkscrew now.”
Jessie’s eyebrow cocked. “Word travels fast.”
He gave her an appraising look. “We were surprised to hear of it.”
“We?”
Mario pinned her with a look and Jessie dropped the act. They both knew she knew exactly to whom he referred. She gave him a faint smile, trying to keep her stomach from revolting in sheer terror. She’d been getting more and more on Willie’s bad side with every successful night at her club. Willie didn’t mind a little competition, as long as that competition stayed little. And bought Willie’s booze to fuel that success. But The Red Phoenix didn’t buy from Willie and entirely too many people were frequenting the club for Willie’s taste.
Russo was waiting for her to respond, so she shrugged. “I’m not sure why Willie is interested in where I choose to sing.”
“Willie is interested in the Phoenix. And if his best gal is abandoning him for a rival…well, that interests Willie greatly.”
Jessie’s gaze darted around. “I haven’t abandoned the Phoenix.”
“Then that is even more troubling to hear. The Phoenix is a nuisance right now, but if he were to team up with another owner, combine resources…”
“No, no. That’s not it at all. I’m just singing a few nights at a different club, that’s all. I always wanted to sing, but The Red Phoenix already has a singer, so…” Jessie heard herself rambling and zipped her lip.
Mario studied her for a moment, his sharp eyes taking in everything. “So, the Phoenix sent you in to spy on the competition, eh?”
Jessie kept her composure. She always tried to give Willie just enough information to make it seem as though she was cooperating without giving away too much. It was a fine, but incredibly dangerous, not to mention hair-raising, line to walk.
Mario nodded his head. “Smart man.” He straightened, pulled his gloves back on and fixed her with a stare. “Keeping an eye on one’s competition is always a good move if you want to stay in business.”
She straightened her back, held her head high and gave him a sharp nod. She knew exactly what he was saying. Willie would be keeping his eye on her.
“He must have a lot of faith in you, Jessie.”
Jessie knew she should just keep her mouth shut and let the man leave, but she couldn’t stop from asking, “Why?”
Mario shook his head. “If you were still my broad and were spending all your time with some P.I., I’d be a little worried you were going to do me wrong. But then you,” he said, leaning across the counter and running a finger down her cheek, “would never bite the hand that feeds you, would you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You mean you don’t know?” he asked, with a tone that suggested he was all too aware of her ignorance.
Jessie’s stomach sank. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what he had to say.
“Your new boss, the one you’ve been getting so cozy with. He’s an ex-cop. Got fired when a case went bad. He’s since gone into private investigating. Until just recently, when he threw his hat in the speakeasy game. Know any reason why he might have a sudden interest in the illegal side of life?”
Jessie’s head spun, as if all the blood had drained from her body, leaving her hot and cold at the same time. Her face was stone. She couldn’t have forced an expression on it if she’d tried.
Mario gave her a small smile and pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket. “You might want to tell any parties who may be interested that keeping the wrong sort of company can be dangerous to one’s health.”
Jessie took the envelope and nodded.
Russo’s smile widened, though the expression never made it past the dead calm of his eyes. “We’ll be watching the company you keep, baby. You might want to be a little more discerning in whom you choose to spend your time with. The wrong friends could bring a world of trouble down on you.” He leaned forward, his hand cupping the back of her head, and pressed a kiss to her unresponsive lips. Her reaction, or lack thereof, didn’t bother him in the slightest. He gave her a final grin, tipped his hat to her, and left.
Jessie opened the envelope and what was left of the blood in her head evacuated. She sank onto a stool and stared at the newspaper clipping in her hand. A picture of Tony, his face turned from the camera, his hand held up to block the lens. But she could still make out his face.
The article described the case Mario had mentioned. A sting operation gone bad. Tony’s partner had been shot and killed and after the investigation, Tony had retired from the force. The only other thing in the envelope was a business card. For Anthony Solomon, Private Investigator.
Jessie wasn’t sure what to think, what to do. She’d been aware that Tony might have been in cahoots with Jameson, but his actions over the last few weeks had seemed to disprove that assumption. After she’d allowed him to find part of her cache, she’d waited for Jameson to come storming into the shop and lead her away in cuffs. But the more days that passed without that happening, the more Jessie had begun to believe that Tony was exactly what he said. A speakeasy owner who was possibly starting to fall for her.
She had been such a fool.
…
Tony snapped another picture and then watched Russo walk out of Jessie’s shop with a growing spark of anger gnawing at his gut. He didn’t know what that palooka had been doing in there, but it couldn’t be anything good. Jessie had looked disturbingly comfortable with the man, considering their past. When he’d stroked her face and kissed her, Tony had wanted to bust through the door and rip Russo’s hand off. But that would have betrayed the fact that he’d been watching them. Besides, she hadn’t seemed to mind. A fact that made Tony want to put his fist through a wall. He knew he was overreacting. He had no claim on her. In fact, if she knew who he really was and what he was doing, she’d hate him.
He took a deep breath and rubbed his hands over his face. He hadn’t meant to spy on her. Hadn’t meant to take pictures of her meeting with anyone. But, he’d pulled up just as Russo was going into the shop. Why would Russo be meeting with her again? Everything Tony had heard had led him to believe their relationship was over. If she was the Phoenix’s girl now, Russo was throwing down an awfully big gauntlet walking into his dame’s shop.
Then again, Russo was also Willie’s guy and Willie was interested in Jessie for all the same reasons Tony was. Maybe he was just using Russo as a means to an end. Either way, Tony wasn’t about to just drive away, so he’d parked down the block and watched from a distance, in case she needed him. Which she hadn’t.
Tony looked back toward the shop and saw Jessie shoving the envelope the mook had given her into her apron pocket. What could that be? Bribe money? A payoff of some sort? Willie wouldn’t be buying her booze. But she must have something of interest to him because he’d seemed pleased with the envelope she’d pushed across the counter to him. Was it information? Maybe the same information Tony himself was trying to get ahold of?
The moment that thought crossed his mind, he realized that Jameson had never mentioned trying to buy information about the Phoenix from Jessie. He’d interrogated her, threatened her, sent Tony in to romance her. But he’d never, that Tony was aware of, tried to buy her off. The thought had never occurred to Tony either, which now seemed unusual. Everyone had their price. Jessie must have hers, too. And apparently Willie had found out what it was.
Tony stowed his camera in his car and marched over to the shop. Jessie had flipped the closed sign but she hadn’t locked the door yet, so Tony let himself in, locking the door behind him so they wouldn’t be disturbed.
Jessie turned when the door opened, but her eyes didn’t light up to see him as they had before. Her gaze darted around but she at least made a pretense of smiling at him.
“You’re closing up late,” he said.
“I had a straggler come in.”
“Ah. A regular? Come in for a little chat just when you were ready to close.” Tony tried to force a smile, keep his tone lighthearted.
“No, he wasn’t someone I know. He was just…asking directions to the nearest deli. He was looking for some dinner and didn’t realize I didn’t sell anything pre-made.”
His stomach sank even while his anger sparked anew. If the meeting had been innocent, if Russo was still her enemy, surely she would have told him, confided in him. Asked him for help, maybe. Instead, she’d denied even knowing the man, when it had been obvious, even from the outside, that that wasn’t the case.
“Well, that’s too bad that you didn’t get anything from him,” Tony said.
Jessie twitched, her hand straying toward her pocket. “What do you mean?”
“A sale. He came in and talked your ear off without even buying anything. Not very polite.”
“Oh,” Jessie said, the relief in her slight laugh the only genuine expression she’d made since he’d walked in. “No, not very polite. Tony,” she said, her brow crinkling. “What did you do before you started running The Corkscrew?”
Tony froze. Why was she asking this now? Is that what Willie had paid her for? Information on him?
“I was a bartender before Prohibition, believe it or not. And I’ve done a few odd jobs here and there since then.”
“So running a speakeasy must have come naturally to you.”
“A bit,” he said with a faint smile.
“How did you end up running The Corkscrew?”
Tony admired her style. No beating around the bush like he’d been doing. Just straight and direct. Maybe he should have tried that approach with her. Though she seemed to be growing paler and more agitated with every question she asked. The knot in his stomach eased up a bit. Whatever was going on with her, whoever was paying her off, Tony didn’t think it sat well with her. She wasn’t acting like a person who was an expert in this game.
“The old owner was an acquaintance of mine.”
“I see,” she said, her voice faint.
Tony frowned. Whatever game she was playing was taking a toll on her. He reached over and caressed her face, purposely following the same path the other man had taken, as if he could erase the man’s touch from her skin.
“What’s wrong, Jessie?”
She blinked up at him, her eyes suspiciously bright. For just a moment she leaned into his hand.
“Tell me what’s going on. Maybe I can help you,” he said.
Jessie let out a long, quiet sigh. “No. You can’t help me.”
Tony was about to protest, insist that she tell him what was going on. But Jessie forced a smile. “It’s nothing, I promise. I’m just tired, that’s all.”
Tony studied her for a second but she made no move to say anything else.
“All right, then. I’ll see you at the club.”
Jessie nodded and walked him to the door.
“Goodnight, Jessie.”
He wished he could scoop her up in his arms, take her upstairs, and just forget about the mess they’d gotten themselves into. He hesitated, then leaned in, unable to help himself.
Jessie turned her head and his lips brushed against her cheek. Tony pulled back, his heart clenching like she’d reached into his chest and wrenched it out. He stepped back, jaw rigid, doing his best to keep her from seeing his hurt. His eyes narrowed as he searched her features, trying to find some clue to what was going on in her head. She refused to meet his gaze and a rising anger compounded the ache that tightened his chest. What the hell was going on?
“Goodnight, Tony.”
Her voice sounded so small, so sad. Tony shoved aside his feelings and reached for her, rubbing his thumb across her cheek and pulling her closer to press a kiss to her forehead. She relaxed into him for a split second before stiffening in his arms. He released her. Then he walked out her door, hoping that it wasn’t for the last time.