The Speak Easy Duet

Chapter 21

21

I stood at the door and watched the red Buick tear down the street, my lips buzzing and my head spinning.

Joey had kissed me. Again.

But for real this time.

I brought my trembling fingers to my mouth and closed my eyes. I could still see the barely-suppressed fury on his face as he put everything together—my uncharacteristic nervousness, the thousands of dollars in cash I’d just handed over, the diamonds at my throat.

He knows.

He hadn’t said so, not in so many words, but Joey and I had known each other for years. And even though we’d spent most of them at each other’s throats, for him to get worked up enough to kiss me like that could only mean one thing: he realized what I’d done with Enzo.

Which was everything.

Twice.

At the thought of Enzo’s naked body pressing against mine, my insides went weightless. For a moment I was back in his bed, pulling him deeper. A wave of arousal swept through me, and I leaned against the doorjamb for support, my knees nearly buckling. When my body felt grounded again, I opened my eyes and frowned in the direction of the Buick. Anger pinched off the warmth inside me. Go to hell, Joey Lupo!

Not once in seven years had he done anything but tease me and pick fights, and the one time he had kissed me, he’d made it clear he was only pretending we were a couple to fool the Prohibition agents who’d spotted our boat full of bootleg whisky on the lake. Now just because someone else had gotten their hands on me—as well as some other body parts—he got proprietary.

And he hadn’t even given me a reason! He just announced I was making a mistake and grabbed me, muttering some nonsense about how he knew me, how he’s always known me.

Huffing an angry breath, I slammed the door.

Screw you, Joey. I don’t care how long you’ve known me or how much you helped me when my family was in trouble or how tempting your mouth is. That doesn’t give you the right to judge me for my choices or tell me I’m making a mistake or kiss me with those perfect fucking lips. Goddamn you!

I stomped up the stairs to my bedroom and slammed that door too. The more I thought about it, the madder I got—mad at Joey for kissing me, of course, but the truth was, I was just as angry at myself for wanting that kiss.

For enjoying it.

Going straight to the dresser, I placed the diamond and pearl choker Enzo had given me into its blue Tiffany box and clapped it closed. Then I grabbed my hairbrush and yanked it furiously through my hair, eyeing my flushed face in the mirror. How dare he make me feel guilty about finally going after something I want for myself! Damn him for waiting so long to show me he felt something for me. And damn him to hell for making me feel something for him that has me questioning everything right now!

Hurling the hairbrush across the room, I took satisfaction in the loud thwack it made against the wall. In fact, it felt so good I scanned the dresser for something else to throw. My eyes fell on the blue box, and I nearly picked it up. Instead I braced both hands on the dresser top, stared hard at my reflection, and took a deep breath. And then another.

A memory surfaced.

A few nights ago, I’d stood here in my room wearing nothing but that necklace as I touched Enzo in ways Joey could only dream about. Let him dream, then. So he’s mad, so what? Served him right. Maybe I’d enjoyed that phony embrace in the boat last week, and maybe the impulsive kiss downstairs had me worked up a bit, but I wasn’t the same person he’d known all those years—and if I wanted to make a mistake with my life, it was mine to make.

Because if that mistake was tall, dark, handsome as a movie star and supremely talented with his tongue, then I was willing to risk it.

“You don’t know me, Joe Lupo,” I whispered to my reflection. “You don’t know anything.”

I felt superior for exactly ten seconds, which is how long it took me to remember that Enzo was counting on me to stay friendly with Joey so I could get some information from him. Specifically, Enzo wanted a way to get back at the River Gang and its leader, Sam the Barber Scarfone, for hijacking a shipment of booze he’d been expecting from the east coast a few days ago. It hadn’t just been any old shipment—hidden somewhere in the cargo was forty thousand dollars worth of opium, which even the hijackers hadn’t known about. Briefly I wondered what had happened when they discovered it. Joey worked for the River Gang, and he had just returned from Chicago, where they’d sold the hijacked load, but he hadn’t mentioned the drugs.

Then again, he’d only been at my house for about five minutes.

“Shit,” I muttered. I’d have to make nice with him again if I had any hope of discovering where the gang’s next load of booze would come from and when it would arrive. Fear shimmied up my spine, cold and unwelcome. Enzo had promised not to hurt Joey if I came through with the right information, and though he hadn’t given me a deadline, I knew I’d better act quickly.

Trust was shaky between us, to say the least.

I had to think of a way to get Joey to reveal something to me before Enzo decided to take retribution into his own hands. Maybe the best way to do that would be to come clean with Joey and see if we could get back to normal. Our version of normal, anyway, which involved a lot of bickering and frustration, but it was a hell of a lot more comfortable than what had transpired by the front door. I touched my mouth again...had Joey’s lips really rested there just minutes ago? How many times had I allowed myself a little fantasy about it?

Too many.

I need a cigarette.

After searching my usual hiding spots and coming up empty, I decided to walk to the small grocery store my older sister Bridget owned to grab a pack. She had taken her three boys and our two younger sisters on a trip to the beach on the other side of the state, so I wouldn’t have to worry about a lecture from her, although it seemed ridiculous to me that I was still sneaking around like a child in order to smoke. I smoothed my white blouse over the plain black skirt I wore, found a decent-looking hat in my sisters’ room, and locked the front door behind me.

My stomach growled as I headed down the block and smelled a neighbor’s dinner cooking. I ignored it and wrapped my arms around my empty belly, frowning at my scuffed oxfords. Last night Enzo had promised to pay me handsomely if I helped him recover his losses from the River Gang—enough to cover nursing school tuition in the fall, and then some.

The damn schoolgirl shoes would go first thing.

I’ll get some new clothes. No more stained blouses or skirts I’ve worn since high school. For God’s sake, I’m twenty years old, I survived kidnapping at gunpoint, and I’m sleeping with a gangster. I should dress better. Stretching out my strides, I tried to walk a little taller, which wasn’t easy for someone who measured under five feet.

The other luxury I wanted was my own apartment. Daddy would probably put up a big stink since it would mean leaving him to tend to the girls and the house on his own, but Mary Grace was ten and Molly was nearly sixteen—the same age I was when Bridget left home to get married. I’d been keeping house and mothering two girls long enough. Now it was my turn to have a little freedom, a little fun. Even if all I could afford was a little room in a boarding house where I could come and go as I pleased, it would be better than living at home.

I turned left into the alley that ran behind the store, and right away I saw the dark sedan parked behind Daddy’s auto repair shop. Narrowing my eyes, I focused on the back door—it was open a crack. The back of my neck prickled. I knew it wasn’t Daddy inside, and the nondescript car screamed cops to me. Halting my steps, I debated whether to turn around and hightail it back home or find out who was in there. But I took too long to decide, and when three men exited through the back door, they saw me.

“There she is.” Martin, the grocery store’s assistant manager, followed two unfamiliar men in suits into the alley. “Tiny, these men are federal agents. They’re looking for your father.”

He and I exchanged a careful look. Martin knew about my father’s neighborhood whisky business as well as the work he did rebuilding cars and hearses for other bootleggers, but his face gave nothing away. I was damn glad he didn’t know anything about the events of last week.

“Oh?” I kept an even tone as I walked toward the suits, sizing them up as they flashed badges at me. The one in brown was younger, ginger-haired, and overweight, sweating profusely in the summer afternoon heat. The older one wore blue; he was dark- haired, beady-eyed, and smaller-framed, and he too was mopping his face with a handkerchief. “My father isn’t here. Can I help you?”

“My name is Agent Thomas, and this is Agent Janssen,” said the one in blue. “We’re with the Prohibition Bureau. Your name?” He traded the handkerchief for a small pad of paper and a pencil from inside his coat.

“Frances O’Mara.” I racked my brain, trying to remember what damning evidence could be in the garage. All the booze had been removed, and I was pretty sure all the rebuilt hearses were gone too. They’d been sold last week.

“But you go by another name?” The agent glanced at Martin, who’d just used the nickname I’d had since birth.

“Tiny,” I clarified through gritted teeth. I really needed to ditch the childhood moniker along with the old clothes, but being called Frances didn’t appeal much to me either. Maybe I’d change my name completely. New me, new name.

The cop continued writing, while I imagined Alias, Tiny being scratched in lead on the little white pad.

“Excuse me, but what is this about?” I tried to sound girlish and innocent. “May I ask why you were in the garage?”

“We’re looking for your father in connection with a crime that took place Wednesday evening of last week: a liquor heist, during which a few men were killed. We have reason to believe Jack O’Mara may have been involved, or at least supplied the vehicles used by the perpetrators. We have a warrant to search the premises.” He didn’t offer to show it to me.

“Do you know where he was that night?” asked Agent Janssen.

“Yes. He was traveling in Ohio last week. For business.” Actually he’d been a hostage of Angel DiFiore last week, and I knew he’d had nothing to do with the crime these agents were referring to—the River Gang’s heist of Enzo’s shipment. It was me who’d sold those hearses to the River Gang, because I’d needed the money for Daddy’s ransom.

“Where in Ohio?” Thomas queried.

“I’m not sure exactly. Around Cleveland maybe?” I met his eyes and widened mine slightly as I lifted my shoulders. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar .

“And he’s still in Ohio?” asked Janssen.

“As far as I know.” A hidden drop of sweat rolled down my chest.

“Gentlemen, I think you’ve taken up enough of Miss O’Mara’s time, and I should return to the store. You’ve searched the garage and found nothing of interest. Why don’t you wait for Mr. O’Mara to return and talk to him yourselves?” Martin had an open, honest face, and with his neatly combed hair and polished spectacles, he looked like the dentist he was studying to be, not someone engaged in criminal activity.

Thomas ignored him. “Miss O’Mara, when do you expect your father back?”

“Oh, probably within a day or so. Shall I have him contact you when he returns?” I spoke sweetly, coating the lies with sugar. The sun was at my back, which meant it was shining directly in their eyes, and the brims of their hats weren’t keeping their faces too cool. I could tell Janssen wanted to finish with me and get in the shade as quickly as possible.

But Thomas spoke up again. “One more thing. Does this guy look familiar to you?” He reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out a photograph—a mug shot. I leaned forward and pretended to scrutinize it.

“Have you ever seen him around here, maybe talking to your father? Could he be a customer at the garage?”

The young man in the photo was perfectly familiar.

“No,” I lied. “I have no idea who that is. Never seen him before.”

I had to find Joey. Immediately.

After reassuring Martin that everything was OK —which, in fact, it was not—I swiped a pack of cigarettes from behind the store counter, raced home, and called Joey’s mother’s apartment, where he was staying. His older sister Marie answered and said he wasn’t home but she’d tell him to telephone me as soon as he returned. I replaced the receiver on the hook and chewed my nails, trying to think of where he might have gone. It was warm and stuffy in the house, and my head felt sweaty in the hat, so I tossed it aside and opened all the windows on the first floor. Just as I finished, the telephone rang.

Eagerly, I raced for it and scooped up the earpiece. “Hello?”

“Tiny, there you are!” The voice was my best friend Evelyn’s.

“Evvy, I’m sorry we haven’t spoken in?—”

“Days!” she exclaimed. “It’s been days, you naughty girl. You left the club Wednesday night before all the excitement and I haven’t heard from you since!”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been...busy.” I actually hadn’t left Club 23 before the raid alarms went off— Enzo and I were upstairs in his father’s office, where I’d left my virginity, my sanity, and my purse. “Did you make it out OK? I heard it wasn’t really a raid, just a false alarm.”

“Oh yeah, we were fine. It was all very exciting, actually. Ted and I can’t stop talking about it.” The lilt in her voice told me she was dying for me to ask.

“Ted? That’s the guy you met that night?”

“Yes, and he’s wonderful. I’ve seen him every evening since, and he’s taking me dancing tonight,” she bubbled. “He’s so handsome and sweet and he loves the movies like I do, and he’s come into the bakery twice to see me.”

“I’m so happy for you, Evelyn. You deserve someone like that.” I scratched at a nick in the wooden telephone table with my thumbnail.

“So...” Evelyn prompted. “Tell me what’s new with Mr. Dangerous. You were right—he does look like a Hollywood film star. Have you seen much of him?”

Every inch. “Um, yes. It’s really kind of a long story, and I promise to tell you all about it when I have time, but I have to do something for Daddy before tonight, and?—”

“Is he back, then?” Evelyn was one of the few people who’d known about my father’s kidnapping. With Joey’s help in negotiating with the River Gang, I’d managed to bootleg enough whisky to deliver the ten grand in ransom, but not without a huge amount of trouble involving men with guns—sometimes pointed at me.

“Yes. He was released yesterday.”

“Oh, thank God! Now things can get back to normal.”

A rictus smile stretched my lips. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

“You know what? You need to get another job, Tiny. The bootlegging business is no place for a girl.”

I sighed. How often had Bridget said the same thing? But even though our operation was small, the money was too good to pass up, and it wasn’t like I didn’t have a plan. I’d been trying to pay for nursing school on my own for over a year. Daddy’s business ventures brought in decent dough, but he had a weakness for gambling and an aversion to anything that would hasten my departure from the house. “I’ll think about it. Let me telephone you tomorrow, all right? Have fun on your date.”

“All right.” She hesitated before hanging up. “Ooh, Tiny. I just got the shivers! Maybe something big is about to happen.”

My stomach plummeted, but I tried to sound hopeful. “Maybe Ted is going to propose.”

She squealed with glee. “Silly, it’s only been a few days. But if he does, you’ll be the first to know.”

While I waited for Joey to call me back, I sat on the back stoop with my cigarettes and watched the sun turn orange and sink behind the trees in the yard. As I smoked, I decided on a plan of action. When Joey got back to me, I’d do my best to smooth things over between us and explain the situation to him. He had no real allegiance to Sam the Barber or the River Gang, and after all, they never would have known when and where Enzo’s shipment was arriving if I hadn’t told them.

Joey had probably made pretty good money on the deal, if his new clothes were any indication. And he’d told me this afternoon he was planning on moving back to Chicago. Maybe I could talk him into going sooner rather than later. With the local cops and now feds looking into the heist—not to mention the DiFiores looking to exact retribution—Joey would be safer out of town, and I’d feel better knowing nothing I did could put him in harm’s way.

I’d also feel better with some distance between us.

No matter how much I tried not to think about it, Joey’s kiss wouldn’t leave me alone. And the more I tried to block it from my mind, the more I obsessed over it, analyzing every detail. The shock of his hands on me, the sudden heat of his mouth slanting over mine. It wasn’t overly aggressive or demanding, but it hinted at something powerful underneath—as if Joey had been restraining himself, and if we allowed the barriers to fall...

I shivered, imagining the intensity of it.

God. I didn’t want Joey, did I? No, that was ridiculous. We’d known each other too long, had too much history. No one got under my skin like Joey did. He was distantly related to Bridget’s late husband, Vince, and from day one, we’d done nothing but scrap. As a boy, he’d cheated at cards, teased me mercilessly about my height, and never once let me win a footrace. For chrissakes, he’d stolen a pair of my underwear when we were fifteen and made money by offering neighborhood boys a penny a peek! Just because he grew up more handsome than he had any right to be didn’t mean he was any different—underneath that fancy new suit, he was still the no- good, pain-in-the-ass delinquent I’d always known.

My stomach growled again, reminding me I still hadn’t eaten, and I decided to go in and forage for some supper. As I stood, a low voice traveled through the dusk. “Hey.”

Gasping, I searched the shadows and slapped a hand to my chest. “ Joey? You scared me half to death! You should know better than to sneak up on me.”

“Sorry. I called home, and my sister said you were looking for me.”

I lowered my arm, although my pulse still raced. It’s because he startled you, that’s all. “Actually, it’s the feds who are looking for you. They were at the garage today.”

Joey shrugged. “They don’t have anything on me.”

“Yes they do, Joey. They asked about the hijacking. They flashed a picture of Sam the Barber at me. Asked me if I knew him or if he was a customer of Daddy’s.” I twisted my hands together.

“What did you say?”

“I lied! What the hell do you think I said?”

“Don’t worry about it. Sam’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”

“I’m not worried about Sam.” Our eyes met briefly before his gaze dropped to my lips, and I lowered my chin. I noticed he’d removed his suit coat and rolled the cuffs of his light blue dress shirt. His exposed hands and wrists made my stomach flutter a little—I had a thing about Joey’s hands. Honestly, I did feel something for Joey, but I didn’t know what it was or how to put it into words. Was it gratitude? Affection? Attraction?

My plan had been to pretend everything was the same between us. But things weren’t the same, and we both knew it.

My eye caught Joey’s gold silk tie, which had been pulled askew. Without thinking, I reached up and straightened it. He sucked in his breath, his muscular chest straining against the shirt and vest of his three-piece suit, so different from the workmen’s clothes I was used to seeing on him.

“Don’t.” He pushed my hands away and took over the task.

“Christ, Joey.” My voice wavered when I spoke. “Don’t be mad at me. You don’t know what I’ve been through. You hijacked that booze and hightailed it out of town, and I had to deal with the consequences. ”

“What consequences? I left you the remainder of the ransom money. You were supposed to spring your pop from the DiFiores with it and stay the hell out of trouble. Instead you dive right into it, headfirst.”

“That’s not how it went, dammit! And after the choices you’ve made, you have no right to judge me. If I want to dive into trouble, that’s my business, not yours.” I poked a finger into his chest.

He lifted his chin. “You’ve made that perfectly fuckin’ clear.”

Bringing the heels of my hands to my head, I exhaled. This was not going well. I was supposed to be smoothing things over with Joey, not making them worse. “I’m sorry. I’m extremely grateful for everything you did for me while my father was... gone.”

“He wasn’t gone. He was kidnapped, remember? By Enzo’s father?”

Stay calm. You’ll gain nothing by letting your temper loose. “Yes, I remember. But a lot has happened since you left, and I want a chance to explain it to you without you getting angry with me. Please.” I put my hands on his chest. Joey wasn’t too much taller than me, but he had broad, thick muscles, and I could feel the warmth of his skin through his clothes.

He took a breath, and I thought he’d swat my hands away once more, but he didn’t. When he spoke, his voice was softer, but still had an edge. “Where’s your pop?”

Distracted, I answered without thinking. “He’s at a meeting with Angel DiFiore, trying to work out the terms of a business arrangement.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Joey took a step back. “First the guy tries extortion, then when that doesn’t work he kidnaps your dad, beats him to a pulp, demands ten grand in ransom—and now your pop’s gonna do business with him?” He looked me up and down. “No wonder!”

“No wonder what?”

“No wonder you’re crazy enough to jump in bed with the guy’s son! ”

1Rage burned in my face. “Fuck you, Joey! You got everything you wanted out of this, didn’t you?” I gestured toward him. “Look at you in your new blue suit driving a fancy red Buick wearing your shiny new shoes! You wouldn’t have any of it if I hadn’t helped you! How dare you judge me for getting what I want!”

“That’s what you want? Him?” Joey yelled.

“Yes! For once in my life, I have something that’s mine, something I’m doing just for me, and if you don’t like it, you know what you can do!”

“Fine.” He closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths and rolled his shoulders. “So why did you call me today after I left?”

“I was worried about you.” Just then my stomach growled again, loud and embarrassing.

Joey’s brows went up when the groaning noise refused to stop. “Jesus, Tiny. If you expect to grow anytime soon, you’re gonna have to eat a meal every now and then.”

A joke. That was a good sign. “I was too scared to eat.”

“Have you had a decent meal since I fed you?”

At the memory of the pasta dinner he’d cooked at my house last week, my mouth watered, and I may have moaned slightly. “I think so. I’m not sure. It’s been a tough couple of days.” I still hadn’t told him the whole story.

Joey shook his head and grabbed my elbow, pulling me toward the driveway. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“To my house. I’ll feed you supper. But this is the last time,” he warned, turning back to shake a finger in my face. “From now on, you’re his mouth to feed.”

Nodding gratefully, I didn’t even toss back a sharp response. The thought of eating Joey’s cooking again had me salivating.

He opened the Buick’s passenger door for me before walking around and sliding into the driver’s seat. Then he pulled two cigarettes from his pocket. “Want one?”

I placed one between my lips and he leaned toward me to light it. When its tip glowed orange, I sucked in a lungful of smoke and exhaled. “Thanks.”

He glanced sideways at me. “So what happened after I left town?”

I shuddered. “What didn’t happen? Things went completely haywire. When Enzo heard the guys who hijacked the load and killed a couple of his men were driving hearses, he knew they had to be the ones he’d seen at the garage the night of Daddy’s kidnapping. And since his father had Daddy hostage the whole time, he figured I knew more than I was telling him. Which I did, of course.”

“What did you say?”

“I admitted that I’d sold the hearses to Sam the Barber and the River Gang because I needed the money for the ransom, but I didn’t tell him I was the one who told you guys about his rum shipment.”

“He still in the dark about that?”

I shook my head and took another drag on my cigarette. “I don’t think so. When he asked me outright this morning if I knew Sam was planning the heist, I told him I did what I had to do to protect my family.”

Joey was quiet a moment, and I thought he might be reflecting on my bravery, but I was wrong. “This morning?”

I shifted in my seat. “Yes.”

“Did you spend the night with him?”

Damn it, Joey, don’t make me feel guilty! I was glad it was dark, so he couldn’t see me blush. “Look, I didn’t plan on it. There’s another part of the story you haven’t heard.”

“I’m not sure I want to.”

I bit my lip. How the hell was I supposed to be up front with him and ask for what I needed with all this odd tension between us? Did he really have feelings for me? Or was he just angry about what I’d done? “Well, while you were living it up in Chicago, I was?—”

“I wasn’t ‘living it up in Chicago,’ you know. It was business.”

“Maybe, but all that rum plus the opium must have brought a good load of dough. ”

Joey studied me but said nothing.

“Well, didn’t it?”

“We didn’t sell the opium in Chicago.”

My jaw dropped. “What? Why not?”

“Sam doesn’t even know about it. It was in hidden containers that ended up in the hearse I drove with Angelo. When we found it, we agreed to keep it to ourselves. We sold the rum as instructed, gave Sam his cut, and brought the opium back to Detroit.”

My heart hammered in my chest. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not even sure what made me do it. It just seemed like the opportunity was there for me to make a move on my own. Like I told you, I’m planning on going back to Chicago, and I could use a little money to get started down there.”

“Jesus, Joey. If Sam finds out, he’ll kill you.” I put a hand on his arm, but when he glanced down, I removed it.

“He won’t find out. Unless you tell him.”

He might have meant it as a joke, but I couldn’t make light of this. “And what about Angelo? Can you trust him?”

“Why shouldn’t I? He gains nothing by telling Sam about it.”

“So where is it? The opium, I mean.”

Joey rubbed his lower lip, as if he was wondering whether to confide in me. Then he looked me in the eye. “This information does not leave the car.”

I nodded.

“It’s hidden in the boathouse.”

“Daddy’s boathouse? How the hell did you get in there?” My father had purchased a dilapidated old boathouse on the water for bootlegging purposes a few years back, and although Joey had occasionally worked for him, I didn’t think he had a key.

“I took the key off your ring while I was at your house earlier. You were upstairs getting the money to pay me back.”

“You stole the boathouse key from me?” Somehow that seemed worse than anything I’d done .

Neither of us had behaved terribly well in the last week, but at least we’d been honest with each other.

“I was planning on telling you. I just got... distracted.”

Our eyes met, and I took a drag on my cigarette, fast. “Joey, I?—”

“I want to meet with Enzo.”

“What?” I coughed, choking on the smoke. “Why the hell do you want to do that?”

“I want to make a deal.”

“What kind of deal?”

“I want to know where he was going to sell the drugs and for how much. I don’t know anything about that stuff.”

“And why would Enzo even talk to you? You just stole thousands of dollars worth of booze and drugs from him!”

“I’ll cut him in.”

“On his own opium?”

“It’s not his anymore, is it?”

“He’s not gonna see it that way.”

Joey shrugged. “His choice. Thirty percent or nothing. I’m the one that has something he wants.”

I brought my cigarette to my lips again, inhaling and exhaling more slowly. If they met in a dark alley, Enzo probably wouldn’t hesitate to shoot Joey, but he did want to get his money back. This information could change everything.

“I might be able to set up a meeting,” I ventured, watching a ribbon of smoke drift out the open window.

“You can’t tell him about the opium beforehand, understand?” Joey pinned me with a hard stare.

“I do, but that makes it a lot harder to guarantee he’ll agree to talk to you. He’s furious, Joey.”

“I have no doubt you’ll persuade him, now that you two are so close.”

“Stop. Just stop it. If we’re going to work together on this, you have to quit harassing me about Enzo at every turn. ”

He switched his focus to starting the Buick, and the engine came to life. “No promises there.”

My jaw jutted forward and I tossed my cigarette out the window. “None here either, then.”

Joey looked over at me once more. “You know, I may have been wrong before.”

“About what?”

“About you. Maybe I don’t know you anymore.” As he backed out of the driveway and headed for Jefferson Avenue, I kept my eyes on the road. Why the hell was my throat closing up? I should have been glad he recognized that I was different now. Wasn’t that exactly what I’d been saying to myself? And I’d gotten what I wanted—information to give Enzo. If he’d agree to meet Joey without killing him on sight, maybe they could work out a deal. Thirty percent was better than nothing.

The fist of discontent squeezing my throat eased up a little.

I could do this. No one would get hurt. Joey would go to Chicago and stop distracting me with his mouth and his hands and his cooking, and Enzo and I would learn to trust each other.

Of all the lies I told myself that night, the last one was the most foolish.

And the most dangerous.