Betrayed 1(11)

Along with the offices, there was a small kitchen, a single bathroom and shower, and a storage closet that held nothing more than office supplies.

There was a conference room where The Three Stooges hung out. The Three Stooges were two stick-thin Irishmen named Danny and Doug O’Malley, and a fat Italian who always smelled like garlic named Freddy Manicotti.

The Stooges had been friends of dad’s since grade school. Back in the day they were his muscle, his collectors, his enforcers. All that shit stopped when I came onboard. No more broken legs, no more extorting protection money, no more loan sharking.

I had wanted to fire The Stooges but dad wouldn’t hear of it. They were all old and fat, he said. Who was gonna hire them to do an honest day’s work? So, they sat in the conference room all day, drinking coffee and eating bear claws, collecting paychecks for doing nothing more than being dad’s old pals.

There is no more loyal a soul on earth than my dad, at least until you cross him or piss him off.

I knew the feds could raid the warehouse at any time, so I made damn sure there was nothing on the premises that could get us in trouble. Every pallet and every storage container held legal goods. The illegal goods were stored somewhere else and I didn’t have a clue where that was. That was dad’s bucket of shit to deal with, not mine.

“You find a replacement for Boozie yet?” dad asked, leaning in my doorway with a mug of steaming coffee in his hand. Back in the day, there was no one tougher than Patsy O’Connor. Now, he was a fat old man who huffed when he came up the stairs.

He was almost sixty-eight now. He had put on a lot of weight and was showing the tell tail signs of a long-term drinker. He had thick bags under his eyes and tiny purple veins lining his cheeks and bulbous nose. The middle drawer of his desk looked like a pharmacy. He lined up the pills every morning and choked them down with a cup of coffee and a shot of whiskey.

I found it amusing and a little sad that he was so concerned that Boozie’s transition from secretary and mistress to woman of leisure in Tampa cause her as little trouble as possible.

“I’m calling an agency now,” I said as I set my coffee cup on the desk and switched on my computer. “I’ll get someone in as quickly as possible.”

“Make sure they’re legit,” dad said, wagging a thick finger at me. “Check references, do a background investigation.”

“Dad, she will answer the phone and type,” I said, holding out my hands. “She will not be privy to your secrets the way Boozie was.”

“Does that mean I can’t bone her?” he asked, grinning at me. Dad always had a gap between his front teeth that he stuck his tongue in when he grinned.

“Mom probably wouldn’t like that,” I said, fingers tapping computer keys to pull up my contact list. I had an associate who owned a staffing agency. I’d call him to send over a few women to interview. I looked up at him and smiled. “Besides, your days of boning the help are over. That’s my job now.”

He chuckled at me. “Yeah, like you have to time to fuck the help here.”

I picked up my coffee cup and gave him a frown. “What does that mean?”

He let his round shoulders go up and down. “I hear rumors.”

“Such as?”

“Word is you’re turning The White Rabbit into your own little playground,” he said. He brought the cup to his lips and blew a cooling breath across the steaming surface and judged me with his eyes. “Fucking girls in the restrooms. Blowjobs under the VIP table. Big bar tab every night.”

I gave him a smile. “So? Is that wrong? We do own a piece of it, you know.”

His bushy eyebrows furrowed over his dark eyes. “Irish Dan owns a bigger piece of it,” he said, referring to Dan Reardon, one of his old pals who truly fit the notorious Irish gangster mold. “He would appreciate it if you found another place to hang out if all you’re there for is to fuck the paying customers.”

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time I’m butt-fucking Irish Dan’s daughter in the men’s room,” I said, picking up the phone.

“Jesus, boy, I hope you’re joking,” he said, shaking his head and making the sign of the cross on his chest. “You don’t fuck with Irish Dan. If he thought you were screwing his daughter he would personally chop off your dick and shove it down your throat.”

“I’ll remember that the next time she asks me to come to the restroom with her,” I said, offering him a smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find you a new secretary.”



Claire

“What’s up?” I asked as I walked into Ed’s office and took a seat in front of his desk. Lou, Lester, and Joanie were already there, as was Danzig, who was standing next to Ed’s desk with his thick arms crossed over his chest. I caught Danzig eyeing by boobs as I sat down. I was wearing an open-collared white blouse beneath a short black jacket. I guess his vantage point gave him a quick look down my shirt as I sat down.