4. Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Ronan
I couldn’t get the smell of frosting out of my senses until I stepped into The Full Spread. As soon as I did, I was surrounded by a rush of smoke and the stale scent of cigarettes. I ignored the stench and scanned the room, making note of the two dancers on stage grinding against each other with no audience.
Only one man sat at the bar, and his attention was directed toward the woman behind it. When the door slammed behind me, he glanced over his shoulder, turning back toward her when he realized he was no longer interested in who had come in. I stepped up to the bar, ignoring his grumbling when the bartender approached me.
“What’ll it be, handsome?” she asked. She was new. I didn’t recognize her double nose piercing or the purple curls she’d tied back, and she didn’t seem to recognize me either.
I cleared my throat, making sure I was heard over the loud music pouring through the crackling speakers. “I’m here to see Nikki,” I said clearly without raising my voice.
The girl looked suspicious, pursing her lips and chewing at the inside of her cheek while she likely debated if she was going to help me. “Who are you?” she asked. She was good. She knew Nikki didn’t like to be bothered.
“I’m a good friend of hers. Tell her Ronan is here.” I planted my hands against the bar and watched her, waiting for her to scurry off. When she did, the patron at the bar glared at me, clearly blaming me for taking away his chances with the attractive woman.
I ignored him. Instead, my mind swirled with the images from the bakery. Nellie Giordano wasn’t even a teenager the last time I saw her. She was just a child. After Dickie died, I didn’t see her again. I sucked in a deep breath when another image of her deep brown eyes crossed my mind. How had I not immediately recognized them?
I rubbed my eyes until I saw small stars behind my eyelids. I was going to have to clear my mind of the look on her face that told me she had no desire for me to know who she was.
“What’s wrong with you?” Nikki’s sharp voice broke me out of my daze, and I opened my eyes. I nodded.
“I’m good, Miss Hospitality. Nice to see you too. Want to talk?” I gestured to the door that separated us from her office. I was moving in that direction before she had agreed.
She followed me, and the click of her heels caught up quickly. “Oh, we definitely need to talk,” she said before we reached the door. She grabbed the handle and looked at me over her shoulder. The look in her eyes was serious, and if I wasn’t mistaken, there was a thin layer of tears veiling them. “Things are ugly, Ronan.”
“What do you mean ugly ?” I asked, closing the door behind me. Nikki was sitting in her chair behind her desk with her hands tightly laced together when I turned around. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth nervously, fidgeting in her seat. “Nikki.”
“It’s Brittney. She’s gone.” Nikki broke. A sob ripped from her chest, and she clamped her mouth shut to stifle the sound. For a moment, she shook until she took a long, deep breath to steady herself.
I stepped forward, sitting on the edge of the desk and looking down at her. “You’re going to have to be a lot more fucking specific than that.”
She groaned. “I mean she’s fucking dead. Gone. In Heaven or… probably Hell, judging by the way she left.” Nikki rolled her eyes, dropping her back against the leather seat. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. When she spoke, she sounded calm again, almost emotionless. “She overdosed.”
“Overdosed? I thought she got clean.” It had been part of the agreement. We would lend Nikki the money she needed to keep the joint open, but she couldn’t continue to have people snorting any drug they could get their hands on in the dressing room.
Silent tears left streaks in Nikki’s make-up, and she shook her head. “She was, but then…” Her voice stuck in her throat. “She said she was just going to do a little bit, Ronan. I didn’t know she would…”
“You didn’t know she would relapse, overdose, and die?” I shouted, and she recoiled. Her eyes were wide and shining with tears yet to be shed. I closed mine and took a deep breath that didn’t calm me. I was seething. “I thought we talked about there being no drugs in here! I go away for a couple months, and suddenly, it’s a fucking party again?”
She slammed her hands against her desk, standing up and leaning forward until her face was inches from mine. “How dare you?” she shrieked. “Do you really think I just intentionally let one of my girls die?”
“You tell me what happened, then.” My stare drilled into hers, but she didn’t soften. Her anger was evident in her stunted breaths, and her chest heaved. “And don’t leave anything out.”
“The Cassidy brothers and their friends have been coming in here. One of them is… was sweet on Brittney.” She didn’t blink while she spoke. “When she said she was going to go home with him, I tried to tell her no.”
I clenched my teeth. “The Irish are coming in here? Why are they coming all the way to the North End?”
“I don’t know. They came in one night, and I told them they could stay if they didn’t cause any trouble. They agreed.” Nikki shrugged. For a woman so intent on protecting her girls and herself, she didn’t seem threatened by the Irish mafia coming all the way across town to The Full Spread. They would have to drive past a handful of other clubs before they even made it here. “How was I supposed to know their shit was laced?”
“ Marone!” I pinched my nose between my thumb and pointer finger. “Have they been back since?” I asked, and Nikki nodded. “Okay, I’m going to have a couple guys hang out here. They’re going to keep an eye on the place. I’ll bring them by tomorrow.”
“I don’t need a babysitter, Ronan.” She crossed her arms over her chest like she was throwing a tantrum.
I cocked my head to the side. “They’re not babysitters. They’re protection, and you need them.”
“Fine,” she huffed, but a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. The mixed anger and fear that burned bright in her blue eyes was replaced with relief. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Thank you.”
I stood up off the desk. “I can’t stay long. I need to get going.” I took the envelope of money from her, folding it in half and tucking it in the inside pocket of my jacket. I stepped back from the desk and toward the door leading me out of her office, stopping in the middle of the room. “And Nikki, be careful. The Cassidy family is bad news. You don’t want them hanging around here. Watch your back and keep the drugs out.”
She nodded. “I’ll do everything I can. Thank you, Ro.”
I ignored the stare of the bartender and the judgmental look from the only patron on my way out, stepping back onto the quiet street. Before I even smelled the vanilla, I knew I was going back to the bakery I had no business being in.
The lights from Sugar & Spice lit the sidewalk in front of it with a soft glow, and my stomach sank when I put my hand on the door handle. Nellie jumped when I pulled it open and the bell rang, and when she saw that it was me, she stiffened. I knew she had recognized me.
“You’re back,” she said, her voice lacking the warm welcome her partner had used earlier. “You can’t lease the building.”
“That’s not why I’m here.” I stepped closer to the counter, observing the colorful desserts that decorated the glass cases. The pink walls were a distinct contrast from the dark gray walls at The Full Spread, and I was fonder of the smell of cake than I was cigarettes.
“Then what can I do for you?” She tapped her fingers against the counter quietly, but there was a forced smile on her face—one that said she’d be happy to sell me something but would much rather I left.
I pointed to the display cases. “I need half a dozen cupcakes.” What did I need cupcakes for?
“I thought you don’t really eat sweets.” She smirked, reaching behind her and grabbing a pink cardboard box.
I shrugged. “I don’t.”
“Then why are you here?” Nellie looked nervously over my shoulder toward the sign on the window, like she was silently letting me know she wouldn’t go down without a fight.
“My sister loves cupcakes.” When I grinned, she returned the smile, but her posture didn’t relax.
She cleared her throat and bit back a smile when she opened the case I had pointed at. “What flavor do you want?”
“Supposedly, you make the best Italian cream cake in Boston,” I said, leaning with my elbow against the glass. She nodded. “I’ll take six.”
Nellie nodded, reaching for the first cupcake. “Good choice.” When she swallowed, I followed the lump in her throat before I watched her clench her jaw.
When she had filled the box with cupcakes, she closed it, setting it on top of the case to tie it shut with a ribbon. I lifted a single brow. Was that really necessary? I rolled my eyes.
“Okay, so for six of the Italian cream, you’re total is—”
“Don’t act like you don’t recognize me, Chanelle,” I interrupted her. I reached into my pocket for my wallet, grabbing my credit card and handing it to her. I didn’t care how much they cost.
She took the card, and her hands shook. “I don’t want to recognize you.” Nellie took a deep breath, swiping the card through the reader and tapping at the screen.
“Why not?”
Nellie thrust my card back at me. “Because I don’t know you. I don’t trust you.”
“You should.” I took the card, tucking it back in my wallet and into my pocket. I adjusted the front of my jacket, making sure everything was in place, even though I knew it hadn’t moved at all.
“Why?” She slid the box of cupcakes to me, half-rolling her eyes. “Why should I trust you?”
“Because I can help you.” I shrugged, pointing over my shoulder and not missing her quick glance to the window.
She shook her head, swallowing a quiet sigh. “I don’t need help, especially not from a stranger.” Nellie tapped the screen a couple more times, handing me a receipt I didn’t ask for. “Thanks for coming to Sugar & Spice. Have a nice night.”
“Chanelle…”
“No.” Her eyes didn’t give me the chance to argue with her. “That’s not my name. You don’t know me. Enjoy your cupcakes.”
When she spun around, her ponytail whipped over her shoulder. I watched her take a few steps and disappear into the back of the kitchen before I reached for my wallet again. I pulled out a wad of cash, stuffing it into the tip jar on the edge of the counter. The bell rang louder when I opened the door, and when it did, I was sure I could feel her stare on me. I’d be back.