In her bedroom, Audrey peered through the sliver of space between the curtains. She was a kidnapped princess, the quintessential damsel in distress, locked away in the tower of the evil king’s castle, waiting for the hero to ride up and rescue her. She watched one potential hero now, a knight in shining black sharkskin, as he talked to his faithful manservant.
She watched Dominic and Manny talk, not knowing what they were discussing but getting a general idea it was family-related by their body language. She watched the gaudy Corvette pull up and the two men stiffen. She watched Dominic exchange words with the blond, pony-tailed man she didn’t recognize and thought for a moment they would come to blows. From her perch, she was able to read the utter disdain on their faces.
When they finally separated and the pony-tailed man headed for the front entrance, Audrey exhaled. She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath. She watched Dominic talk to Manny a moment, Manny laugh, and then watched the two of them drive off.
Dominic Carelli. She couldn’t figure him out. She felt the chemistry between them, the burst of electricity when he entered a room. There was definitely something between them, she was sure of it, although she was also sure Dominic fought the attraction. She sensed him internally shut down whenever she drew close, which meant she’d have to work extremely hard to get past his barriers.
Unfortunately, Audrey didn’t have the time to put in to such an endeavor. As much as she would like to explore whatever it was between her and Dominic, it would take months to make any headway with him, and even then she couldn’t be sure she’d be able to chip away at his resolve. He was too loyal to Joe.
She dressed while contemplating her next move. She intended to go somewhere today. Somewhere, anywhere, it didn’t matter as long as she was out of this house. She needed fresh air and the sounds of bustling people to clear her head. Joe was going to give her a difficult time, she knew, because he required a day’s notice before she was allowed to go on one of her outings. He needed the advance notice so as to schedule two escorts for her “protection” (his word).
Audrey slipped into a pair of black denim pants and a black cotton turtleneck. She used her bathroom mirror to adjust the collar and check her hair. Satisfied, she sat on her bed and pulled on a pair of socks and soft leather, black ankle boots. The only jewelry she put on was a simple gold crucifix. Though she had thousands of dollars’ worth of watches, necklaces and rings, she rarely wore any of it unless Joe specifically requested it. She didn’t purchase the jewelry because she wanted to wear it—it was more about making Joe spend money.
She considered what strategy to take with Joe. Should she be whiny? Insistent? Confrontational? She deserved a day out after her performance at the previous evening’s party. She had been polite and demure just the way Joe preferred her to be. She had hung on his every word and hadn’t done or said anything to potentially embarrass him. Well, not that he knew of, anyway.
Before heading downstairs, she gave a quick cursory glance out her window. The Corvette was gone. As she started to turn away, she noticed a turquoise BMW pull up and stop in front of the house. More visitors; Joe certainly was holding court this morning.
The man who exited the car drew her attention. It was the man she had talked to last night, the blond-haired man with the baby face who had blushed so easily. What was his name? Phillip? No.
Paul. That was it.
It was a sign. Audrey believed in such things, and this was definitely one of those. More than that, it was an opportunity. She had sensed Paul’s attraction to her. He had worn it openly, not bothering to try and conceal it like Dominic. Perhaps, she thought, he wasn’t as adept at controlling his emotions as Dominic. That would certainly work in her favor.
***
“You Paulie?” The man at the door eyed him warily. Paul saw movement under his coat, most likely a gun aimed at him.
“That’s right. Paul Romano. Joe sent for me.”
The man relaxed and smiled. “You packin’?”
“No,” Paul answered.
“I’ll have to check anyway.”
The man reached down and picked up a handheld metal detector from the stoop.
“Only a few people are allowed inside with guns,” the man said. “Most guys gotta leave ’em out here with me. Safety precaution.”
Paul thought about repeating the fact he didn’t have a gun on him, but the metal detector went by quick and the man unlocked the iron gate that barred the front door.
The décor was too posh, too pristine. He felt out of place and afraid to touch anything. The house made him feel awkward and potentially clumsy.
Joe called to him from the dining room. “Paulie, in here.”
As he walked in that direction, a movement at the top of the stairs caught his eye. He had the impression someone had been up there watching him, and had just moved out of sight. From the sudden knot in his stomach, Paul knew it had to be her.
He kept walking without breaking stride.
Joe said, “Have a seat and help yourself to some breakfast.”
Paul took in the expansive spread of food. It was overwhelming, but he decided to help himself to a cup of coffee. He took a plate and used a set of tongs to select two pieces of toast. He saw bowls of butter and jelly, but decided to eat the toast dry. The thought of piling food on top of the knot in his stomach made his insides lurch.
Paul took a seat and nibbled at his toast. He had forgotten to put cream and sugar in his coffee, so he drank it black. He supposed he could have stood back up and fixed the coffee the way he preferred it (two sugars and a dollop of cream), but he felt too conspicuous to begin with. What if he stood up and knocked something over? Or spilled the cream? Dropped his spoon? No, it was better just to sit still and drink it the way it was. It reduced his chances of potential embarrassment.
Joe watched him with an amused expression. “Help yourself to more food. There’s plenty here, or I could have my cook prepare something special for you, if none of this appeals to your appetite.”
“No, thank you, sir. It all looks good, but I’m not much of a breakfast person.”
“Neither am I. And knock off the ‘sir’ shit, Paulie. Call me Joe.”
“Okay, Joe.”
“Let’s get right to the heart of the matter. I have several more meetings this morning,” Joe said. He spread his hands out in front of him. “Joey’s really impressed with you, and so am I. You’ve got experience in handling money, and you’ve got experience with computers. I need both of that right now.”
“What do you need me to do?”
Joe said, “Right now, all of my business accounts and financial matters are all scattered. I’ve got multiple people doing multiple things. I want to consolidate everything. Run it all through one facility. And be able to run it remotely from this house. You know how to do it, and you know how to keep the Feds from finding out about it.”
Somehow, he had just directed this whole job right into Matrix’s plan, and Paul didn’t even have to lift a finger to do it. How did she arrange this?
He forced a smile and a pleased tone into his voice when he said, “That’s great, Joe. When do you want me to start?”
“Tomorrow.” There was a look of approval in Joe’s eyes. “Go out to the place in South Jersey tomorrow. Check out the equipment, see what else you’ll need, that sort of thing. Everyone out there knows this is your project, and they’ve been instructed to do whatever you tell them to. Joey’ll be with you, too, but he’s even been told to defer to you when it comes to this.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, Joe…” He didn’t know where the words were coming from, like he was watching someone else speak them. “But what’s my stake in all this?” His shirt collar suddenly felt three sizes too small.
Joe chuckled. “Good. I like that. I was wondering if you had some cajones.”
Paul forced a laugh that threatened to stick in his throat.
“Paulie, my dream is to have everything wired so I can run it from a computer in my study. All my distribution and receiving centers, all my bank accounts from all over the world, hooked right up to my own desk. You make that happen, and you make it tamper proof. Make the security so tight, that no one can get into it unless I want them to. Do all that for me, and I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”
“Sounds good to me, Joe.”
So why did Paul feel he just agreed to walk barefoot through a minefield? Lord, there was so many ways this could backfire on him. He still didn’t know what Matrix was going to want him to do. Whatever it was, he had a feeling it wouldn’t ease his apprehension.
“Very good,” Joe said and checked his watch. “I’m afraid I’ll have to end this now. As I said, I have several more meetings scheduled.”
Thank God, Paul was thinking. He needed air, and a chance to think. Somewhere away from the cloying smell of cooked eggs, Joe’s lizard eyes, and that damn blue ropy vein on his forehead. He stood up and, as if on cue, Audrey entered the room.
Again, she took his breath away. All the feelings from the night before were there brimming at the surface. He blushed for no reason other than her mere presence. Her close proximity caused his heart to flutter sporadically, shooting blood through him in tidal bursts. He resisted the urge to lick his suddenly and completely dry lips.
She said, “I hope I’m not intruding.”
“Audrey.” Joe appeared surprised to see her. “Why are you dressed to go out?”
“Oh, Joe, stop it.” Audrey said with a teasing tone. She touched his arm. “You know I have a hair appointment with Madeline this morning.”
Joe squinted his eyes at her. “I don’t recall you mentioning a hair appointment.”
“Of course I did, sweetie. You must remember. I told you a few days ago.”
Joe shook his head. “No. No, I’m sure I would remember if it was just a few days ago.”
Paul watched him with a bit of sympathy. The poor man was trying to convince himself by telling Audrey with forceful conviction that he would have remembered such a thing, but Paul could tell he was wracking his brain at the same time. Finally, old age and insecurity won out.
“Who knows, maybe you did tell me.” Joe shrugged and glanced away, looking sheepish. “It doesn’t matter. There’s no one here to take you. I sent everyone off on errands for the morning.”
“Joe,” she said, stretching the syllables like a spoiled child. “You know how booked Madeline is. If I don’t make this appointment, I don’t know when I can reschedule.”
“It’s out of the question, Audrey,” Joe said. “There’s no one here to take you. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” He patted her hand and smiled soothingly.
“What about Carlo?”
“The doorman? Don’t be ridiculous. You know I need him here.”
“But Joe.” Her voice wavered a bit. Paul could see tears welling up in her eyes. “Don’t you want me to look good?”
“Six hundred dollars to have her hair done,” Joe said, directing it at Paul, “and she always comes back with her hair looking the same.”
“Of course, silly,” she said. “That’s the sign of a perfect hairstyle.” She squeezed his arm.
Joe winced, then patted her hand again. The man’s resolve was crumbling, and suddenly Paul had a premonition of what was going to happen. It was predestined, or more likely orchestrated, by Audrey. He felt the roller coaster picking up speed.
“Paulie, do you have any plans this morning?”
And there it was. The question he was dreading, expecting, and hoping for. The question that excited him with its possibilities — being with her, just the two of them, a man and a woman free to talk about whatever they wanted, no interference from Joe or Joey, away from Dominic’s watchful eye, free to stare at her without worrying about suspicious looks. Out, away from this mobster life, maybe eating lunch in some quiet café, asking her what her favorite movie is, what part of the country she’s from, what she was like as a child, and on and on.
At the same time, it struck him that he should decline the intended offer, make some excuse, say he was busy. He really shouldn’t let himself be sidetracked by a woman, no matter how much attraction he felt toward her. Perhaps this was another test. Maybe she was asked to try and find out information, seduce it from him. Perhaps this was bait. What if he let something slip? Blow his cover? Was it worth it?
“I don’t have any plans,” Paul said.
There really was no decision after all. He knew it the moment she walked into the room and began her orchestration. He looked into her eyes and felt himself falling endlessly. His mind considered limitless possibilities.
“You wouldn’t mind driving Audrey to her appointment, would you?” Joe asked.
“Of course not,” Paul said, tearing his gaze off her as much as possible. If he had to look anywhere, he looked at Joe.
“You just need another person to go with you. Let me think who I can call in.”
“Audrey said, “We don’t really need another person. We’re just going downtown. Besides, you already said everyone was busy.”
“Now Audrey, you know I always send you out with two men. Especially in this city.”
“Well, okay.” She said it with a hint of attitude. “But you better hurry and find someone, or I’ll miss my appointment.”
Joe rubbed his cheek thoughtfully.
“If I miss this appointment,” she said, “I don’t know when I’ll be able to reschedule.”
“All right.” Joe sighed, resigning himself. “Just Paul, then. Leave us for a moment, though.”
“Okay.” She bent down and kissed him on the cheek. When she stood, she glanced at Paul and met his eyes.
There was something there, Paul thought. Some hidden message, letting me know she went to all this trouble for a reason, and that reason was me.
When Audrey left the room, Joe said, “I never let her go anywhere by herself for a reason. Her safety. I want to keep her safe. You understand?”
“Of course.” Paul nodded.
“More than that, I want to keep her safe from herself. She might decide to do something, not think about the consequences. She might do something that would hurt her, maybe even endanger her life. So I send people with her that won’t let that happen. Understand now?”
“Perfectly, Joe. You want me to take her to her appointment—”
“And any other shopping she wants to do afterwards,” Joe said.
“And make sure she’s back here safe and sounds when we’re done,” Paul said.
Joe extended his hand. Paul shook it.
“Exactly.”
“Thanks, Joe,” he said.
“For what?” Joe looked at him curiously.
“For, you know,” Paul shrugged. “Trusting me.”
“Of course I trust you. You’re a bright young man, Paulie. Bright enough to realize the amount of money you stand to make with me. You wouldn’t throw that away on a foolish mistake, would you?” Joe stood and patted his shoulder.
They walked to the sitting room where Audrey waited patiently. Paul had the feeling she had heard every word they said. He wondered what it all meant to her, if anything. Was she amused by their conversation, the way they had danced around the subject of her? Did she care? If Paul had to guess, he would say she did.
“Have a good time,” Joe said.
Audrey’s face lit up, and she smiled. “We really should hurry,” she said to Paul.
“Sure,” he said, and wondered
what she had in mind.
***
For years, Dominic and Manny had been going to Gino’s instead of Joe’s other restaurants. Dominic preferred it because it was small, cozy really, and he knew the staff all by name. Manny liked it because the food was good.
Though the menu was small, limited to ten entrees, Gino’s was well-known for its selection of fine, gourmet coffees and freshly made desserts. Everything—every pastry, every cake, every slice of bread—was made on the premises. The pasta was fully cooked for every dinner order, which meant there was a wait for the food, but Dominic preferred it that way. Precooked pasta was too mushy, and he liked the way Gino’s staff took pride in everything they did. The menu was small because each dish was cared for like a masterpiece.
Most of the patrons were from the theater or opera crowd, stopping off for a cappuccino and a slice of tiramisu. During the day, like now, it was an eclectic mix of artists, writers, and young movers and shakers coming in to discuss books, new museum displays, or where the latest performance art show was playing. Very few family members stopped by, another reason Dominic liked it. He could come here and get away from it all, forget who he was for a time.
In the lounge area, Dominic sat at the piano, facing the bar area with an unobstructed view of the front door. He scanned the faces of everyone who entered for familiarity or warning signs. Manny sat at the bar, sipping coffee and chomping on a cannoli, bullshitting with the bartender instead of watching the area like he was supposed to. Dominic would have to address it with him later.
His mood dictated the songs he played on the piano. Sometimes it was Beethoven, sometimes it was Mancini, maybe some light jazz, even some Jerry Lee Lewis if he was feeling frustrated and wanted to take it out on the keys. Many times, like today when he had a lot on his mind, he changed styles from song to song. He started off with Billy Joel’s “Stiletto,” segue into the first, full song he ever learned, “Heart and Soul,” and spent the last forty minutes on his own creation—a ballad he had been working on for the last ten years.
Dominic finished the song off with a flourish of notes that were not part of the composition but provided a stopping point so it wouldn’t sound as if the song just trailed off.
“That was nice.” Denise put the cocktail tray down, leaned across the piano, and smiled at him. “I’ve heard that last song before. That was yours, right?”
“Right,” Dominic said. “The one I’ve been working on forever. That was part of it.”
“Wow.” She rested her head on her hand and tilted it slightly at an angle so her hair would fall away from her left ear. It was a deliberate move, Dominic knew, harkening back to when they’d met a year ago. Dominic had complimented her on her earrings and told her she had cute ears. Funny how she remembered that. Or maybe she remembered it because Dominic was fond of nibbling on her earlobes.
Two weeks after Dominic had put Charlie to rest, he’d gone back to that bar and asked her out. She had accepted, though she reiterated she was involved with someone, whatever that meant. Dominic didn’t care. He was just looking for a pleasant distraction for a few hours. And he liked her. He liked her enough to continue seeing her on a regular basis. He liked her enough to get her a job at Gino’s. It was twice the money she was used to making and half as time consuming, which meant she could accommodate Dominic’s schedule more often, her boyfriend notwithstanding.
“When are you going to finish it?”
“The song? I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe never. It’s very long and difficult, and I don’t have the time to devote to it that I’d like to.”
“Hmm. You should find the time.” She smiled warmly at him. “You have talent. You should do more with it than just coming here every week and playing for the lunch crowd.”
“Not just the lunch crowd,” Dominic said. “Sometimes the dinner crowd. Sometimes I come here after closing and play for the employees. What difference does it make? The music is just for fun. I already have a full-time job that—”
“Keeps you busy,” she finished for him. “I know. You’re an executive consultant and after all this time, I still don’t know what you do.”
Now it was Dominic’s turn to smile. “I told you, I’m a company troubleshooter. Sort of an advisor.”
She put her hand up and shook her head, Denise’s way of saying she had heard enough and wasn’t buying whatever Dominic was selling.
“Want me to come over tonight?”
“Now that’s a loaded question,” Dominic said. “Where’s Jimmy Jay?”
“Jimbo,” she corrected. “He’s out of town for the next three days.” She paused, then: “So?”
“So, come over.” He liked busting her chops this way, making her work hard, playing ambiguous and disinterested.
“Eightish?”
“Don’t say eightish, please. Eightish isn’t a word. Say around eight.”
“That’s gonna cost you, smart guy,” she said. “Okay,” then in a mocking tone, “around eight?”
“That’ll be fine.” He played with the piano keys, tapped out a few notes, and watched her out of the corner of his eye. “Bring dinner. Charge it to my account here. Whatever you like. I have wine.”
“What are you hungry for?” she said in and winked.
“Something…spicy,” he said.
“If you want dinner,” she said, “and dessert, then you have to do something for me.”
“Name it.”
“Sing me a song.” She picked up her tray and walked away. She looked back once and flashed him a sly look.
Dominic reached for a microphone attached to a plastic stand that sat at the edge of the piano. He pulled it close, making sure the cord didn’t snag or disconnect, and flipped the power switch on.
He tapped it, and the sound reverberated throughout the two small, floor mounted speakers that were aimed toward the dining patrons. He saw people glance curiously in his direction. It made his heart beat faster.
He loved performing. He loved playing music in general. Singing was part of it, too, although he knew his voice wasn’t as rich as his piano playing.
Dominic began with a flourish of notes, a multi-colored bouquet of soft sounds, just warming up. He felt the keys tingling beneath his fingers, vibrating. It was a twelve-cylinder, five-speed waiting for the starting whistle. It hummed and moaned to him; it begged to be unleashed, but he kept the beast reigned in.
He played for a few minutes, trying this combination and that, making the notes sparkle in the air. He leaned toward the microphone.
“I have a special dedication,” Dominic said in a quiet voice. He saw Manny pause and look over in his direction, a coffee cup raised halfway to his lips.
“This song is for the beautiful, and lovely, Miss Denise.”
She paused in the midst of taking a table’s order and looked in his direction. He could see the redness of her blush and the flustered expression on her face. She hated attention, which made Dominic smile. At the bar, Manny was chuckling.
He ran his fingers over the keys, building until it peaked, then softly pushed the notes out. In a smooth and resonant voice, he sang: “It’s not unusual to be loved by anyone.”
Though he’d been complimented on his voice in the past, Dominic thought his singing was only passable. His voice’s strength wasn’t so much the quality, but the way he used it. He paused between lines to generate what he considered real music. The singing, for him, was just an extension of the piano notes. The song was really what came out of the finger strokes. He sang “It’s Not Unusual,” not in the upbeat way Tom Jones would do it, but in a slow soulful tone, as if Tom Jones had lost everything and wallowed in despair. It was Tom Jones reinterpreted by Otis Redding.
When he finished, everyone applauded, even Manny. Denise stood frozen by the bar, a tray of drinks sitting next to her, their destination momentarily forgotten while she had let herself get caught up in the song. He gave her a wink. She blinked as if coming back to herself, smiled and shook her head. She snatched up the tray of drinks and continued them on to their intended table.
“Okay music fans,” Dominic said. “One more before I go. This next one is for an old friend. Charlie, wherever you are, this one’s for you.”
Manny almost choked on a bite of his cannoli. Dominic heard him cough fitfully, then saw him wipe his mouth with a napkin.
He sang “Beyond the Sea.”
AUTHOR COMMENTARY:
Does it seem slow for a crime novel? Too much character bits and not enough bang bang?
It’s a problem when you have more than one main character: You don’t want to shortchange anyone. You want everyone to get their fair share of screen time.
And also, you want to have a decent amount of character building/character moments because you want the characters to be more than one-dimensional. You want them to be real people in the readers’ heads. Otherwise, why would anyone care when they’re in jeopardy?
Still, there’s an expectation these days to keep the story moving. It’s a crime novel or suspense novel? Then people want to see action. People have a short attention span. If you don’t keep them hooked, on the edge of their seat, they’ll put the book down and move on to something else. Another book. A TV show. A game.
Or at least that’s what I’ve been told.
I tend to do things the way I want to rather than what’s expected or “the norm.” Sometimes people get it. More often than not, they don’t. That’s okay.
I think I realized a long time ago that I write mainly for myself. If a reader likes it and appreciates it, I’m overjoyed. If they don’t, well… There’s plenty of books, TV shows, and games out there they might enjoy better. And that’s okay.
I like character bits. Maybe too much. My favorite thing about ONCE UPON A TIME IN HOLLYWOOD is the slight stutter Leonardo DiCaprio’s character has when he’s not doing a scene. I love that. Weird, right?
There’s more here than character bits. I’m playing with your expectations, too. You think you have a handle on a character, and then I show you something new. A different facet.
Like Audrey, for instance. Is she the femme fatale or the damsel in distress? Yes.
She sees herself as the princess who needs rescuing. But she’s also conniving. She’s manipulative. She’s using people like chess pieces. As I’ve said before, she has an agenda. Does that make her evil? I wouldn’t say that. But then again, I don’t see any of my characters as evil. They’re just fucked up.
But aren’t we all? Anyway…
And Dominic, the steadfast, loyal mob guy. The samurai-style hitman, loyal to his master and performing his duties, but also cultured. A music lover and composer. We see that he’s not all that he appears to be on the surface. But then, neither are any of the other main characters, which is kind of the point of the whole book (besides just telling a fun, rollicking story which, bottom line, is really what I’m trying to do).
Hey, how’d you like the call back to the first chapter? Bringing back Denise the bartender, I mean. Did you see that coming?
Honestly, I didn’t. It just kind of happened. Sometimes I put something there and you think, that’s a throwaway bit. And then later, I bring it back and you see that I had a whole reason for it to begin with.
This is one of those cases where it was meant to be a one-and-done character/scene with Denise. Then she showed up unexpectedly while I was writing this chapter. Some days, writing a scene can bring a few surprises.
Because of course Dominic liked her. He didn’t just flirt with her for no reason. He did like her.
Dominic is the type of guy that would go back for someone he likes. He would set her up with a better job, partly because he likes her and partly because he wants to keep her safe and in his orbit. And one of the main attractions to him is that she’s involved with someone else, so there’s no danger of a real relationship. Because Dominic can’t have a real relationship. He’s a hired killer. A hired killer that should have been something else…but that’s something you’ll find out about later.
The next chapter will bring more stuff with Paul and Audrey, and more with Matrix. And violence, too.