Daughter of the Mob (Sample)

19 | Mrs. Siciliano

Pamela left the New York Public Library without a book for the first time in her life.

She hailed a taxi, digging through her handbag for change, and drove back to Albright Trimmings & Co. without a choice.

Men were standing outside smoking, as usual, the collars of their black overcoats lifted above their ears for protection against the persistent winter cold that refused to give way to spring. Somehow, their ominous presence did not deter business, with female cousins, mothers, daughters, girlfriends and wives of the Mancini family flocking to the store in hordes. Other women, unaware of the dark hidden truth of the business, continued to shop without hindrance, pleased by the uninhibited supply of gauze, chiffon, silk, wool, and even exotic Canadian furs.

Johnny had not returned to the store after the night Pamela had rejected his kiss. Pamela didn't care to guess why, but only hoped that his business would keep him elsewhere for the rest of the time she spent in Fifth Avenue.

As Pamela tipped the cab and climbed into the street, smoothing her plain blue skirt and permed hair as she did so, she noticed the men staring at her with disconcerting intensity.

She knew they weren't looking at her because of her figure or her pretty face; there were more boldly dressed and beautiful belles to admire. There was something more sinister than lustful appreciation in their leers, something lethal.

Pamela met the eyes of one man, familiar to her because of his presence at the Copacabana. He was the man who had touched her waist to Johnny's rebuke; the man named Mike.

Pamela refused to look away, casting a dark look towards him with an angry intensity she was sure out-competed his.

Instead of relenting, Mike held her gaze. His eyes narrowed with a lecherous smirk that made her stomach drop.

Pamela looked away, pushing the door open and letting it crash behind her as she felt the examining eyes follow her.

"Where have you been?" Caterina gasped, bumping into Pamela as she entered. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Have you lost your marbles? You were supposed to start work half an hour ago."

Pamela sighed, tying an apron around her waist to stand behind the till. "Sorry Cat, I was visiting some family."

"Lucky for you, it's been too busy for Johnny to notice anything amiss." Caterina winked. "Although he will be awful worried when he realizes his girl has been running around without his knowledge."

The air in Pamela's lungs went stale as she absorbed Caterina's words. She placed a hand to her heart, feeling it thud against her chest. "Johnny? He's here?"

Caterina rolled her dark eyes, ducking behind the counter to pull her glossy ebony hair into a ponytail. "Of course Johnny's here. He's working in the back. He asked for you to come see him when you get a chance."

Pamela could hardly think as she tracked sales and counted change, fearing the nearness of Johnny just a door down.

When the patrons dissipated with the evening, going home to their safe lives and comfortable families, Pamela wished she could beg them to take her with them.

Instead, she released a terse breath, applied a fresh coat of lipstick and drifted to the back corner office like an apparition to meet her fate.

Johnny was hunched over a stack of papers, circling numbers with a faded yellow pencil and surrounded by a group of four men. One man sitting on a stool outside the glass-covered door, presumably a guard, stood when he saw Pamela and let her in.

She tried to ignore the naked gun in his hand, and harder still to dismiss the throbbing pain in her chest.

Johnny surged from his chair, his pencil clinking against the wood of the table and his eyebrows lifting in surprise as if he wasn't expecting her. The horde of men around him raised their brows and smiled. "Fellas, disappear for a few seconds, would ya?"