A Bookie's Odds (3 page)

Aside from their tendency to act silly, the women were different as night and day. Celeste had cared less about academics. She fussed over her wardrobe, and her reading list included
Glamour
,
Mademoiselle
, and
Vogue
. While Georgia had traded in her shapeless pinafores for dresses with fitted bodices and full skirts, she preferred textbooks over fashion magazines. She did not spend hours fussing over her hair and face. Instead, she wore her dark brown hair in a ponytail that gave the world an unobstructed view of her flawless cocoa complexion.

“That was Joey,” his father announced, returning to the kitchen.

“I already took care of it,” Nicholas replied.

Georgia tensed, yet she remained silent. He knew she was not a fan of his method of solving problems, but in this case she would not argue with him. She understood the Santianos’ code. His cousin stole from family. There was no talking and no second chances. Only the painful reminder that one did not screw over family.

“Joey told me.” His father returned to spooning food into a bowl. “His kid should count his blessings. If I’d handled it, he’d have walked away with two busted hands, not one.” He looked at Georgia. “Joey would like you to take care of the books for the diner.”

“No,” Nicholas said at the same time Georgia asked, “Are you serious?”

His father raised an eyebrow. “No one asked you,” he said to his son before addressing Georgia. “Yes, I am.”

“Why can’t Uncle Joey find another bookkeeper?” Nicholas asked, despite his father’s comment. He pulled his hands from under the faucet.

“He trusts Georgia.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Then it’s a good thing it’s not your decision to make.” She tossed the towel at him and turned off the water.

His father laughed.

Nicholas bit back the retort that would start an argument. With his father on her side, it would be an argument he’d lose. Not that Georgia needed someone to back her up. She was more than capable of holding her own against him. Her earlier work at the diner was a testament to that.

Nicholas had objected when his father first asked her to review the books at the diner that also hosted a gambling den in the basement. Instead of taking his concerns into consideration, she firmly, but sweetly, told him to mind his own damn business.

“Don’t pay attention to him,” his father said now. “You think about what’s best for you.”

“How could you condone her working there? You wouldn’t recommend Celeste for the job.”

“That’s ’cause Celeste adds as well as she cooks.”

“Papa,” Celeste whined.

“I’m sorry, darling, but numbers aren’t your thing.” The older man placed a kiss on his daughter’s forehead before turning to the other woman. “Give this to your father, and tell him I send my best.”

“Thank you.” Georgia’s features softened as she accepted the shopping bag full of food. Her eyes narrowed when she turned back to Nicholas.

With a sigh, he tossed the towel on top of a basket sitting on the floor by the entrance to the kitchen. “I’ll give you a ride.”

“I’m not sure if I want a ride from you.”

“How do you expect to get home?” He took the bag from her. “Walk?”

“I could take the bus.”

“And you could stop being a pain in my rear.” He placed a hand on the small of her back. “I’ll be back in a few,” he called over his shoulder.

“Take your time,” Gianni said.

“I’ll keep him company,” Celeste added as she slid into the seat next to his friend.

“Or he can drive himself home,” his father suggested.

Before the older man volunteered to show him to the door, Gianni stood and followed the couple out of the house.

Nicholas led Georgia to the passenger side of the convertible and opened the door. Though his father did not conduct business in the house, everyone in the neighborhood knew he would not hesitate to draw blood if his family or property was disturbed. The fear insured no one messed with Nicholas’s car when he left it unlocked with the top down.

Gianni continued to the red coupe parked in front of the convertible and drove off. Nicholas was not offended by his friend’s abrupt departure. They never believed in saying goodbye only to have to say hello when they met up again.

Georgia slid into the passenger seat while Nicholas placed the bag on the floor in the back. Once she was settled, he closed her door, then jogged around to the driver’s side.

They rode in silence, and Nicholas knew Georgia was contemplating his uncle’s offer. A week earlier, she had confided in him the trouble she was having in finding a job. Before reviewing her applications, interviewers would point her in the direction of the secretarial pool. And those were the ones who had been able to look beyond her complexion. One potential employer presented her with a mop and told her to empty the trash when she was finished with the floor.

The job at the diner was the opportunity Georgia had been hoping for. Yet Nicholas’s protective instincts kept him from supporting her. There were some places she should not frequent, just like there were some men she should not get involved with.

Realizing his objections would start an argument, Nicholas decided to drop the subject for the time being.

“I’m wearing a navy blue suit tonight,” he announced.

Georgia turned to him and raised her eyebrows. “Why should I give a hoot about what you wear?”

“Figured you’d want to know so we don’t clash.”

“And why would we?”

“I’m taking you to the club.”

She rolled her eyes so hard he was surprised she did not sprain her eyeballs. “You’re full of yourself. You don’t even know if I’m going.”

Nicholas chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’d never miss Nonna’s birthday.”

“Then who said I’d let you take me? Maybe I’m going with someone else.”

Red flashed before his eyes. Nicholas’s laughter abruptly stopped. He clenched his teeth to keep his objections from escaping.

His reaction was ridiculous. Georgia was his sister’s best friend. There was no reason he should care whether or not she went with someone else. However, the realization that his behavior was inappropriate did not stop him from insisting, “You’re going with me.”

“You couldn’t find anyone else?”

He had not considered asking anyone else. It would not be the same, attending a family gathering with anyone but her.

Instead of telling her the truth, he grumbled, “Why do you have to make things so difficult?”

“Someone needs to put you in your place. It’s presumptuous to expect people to jump at your command.”

“Just be ready at seven,” he announced as he turned the corner.

“Humph,” was her only response.

He drove to the other end of the block and parked in front of a three-story building. Cardboard covered one of the windows to Sugar, the bar her father operated from the space on the ground floor.

“What happened?”

“Someone broke in last week.”

“Was anyone hurt?”

She shook her head. “It happened after closing. They were gone by the time Daddy got downstairs.”

Nicholas noticed the stubborn glint in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

Georgia sighed. “When I came downstairs, Daddy was reading something. I asked him about it, but he shoved the paper in his pocket and told me it was nothing.”

“Don’t you trust your father?”

“I want to know what’s going on.”

“Stop worrying.” He brushed his hand across her cheek. “If it was serious, I’m sure your father would tell you.” Despite his statement, he made a mental note to speak to his father. Over the years, the two men had become good friends, and his father watched the other man’s back just as he did Georgia’s.

Nicholas climbed out of the car, strolled to the passenger side, and opened the door. “Don’t forget, I’ll be back at seven.” He reached into the back and grabbed the shopping bag.

Georgia sucked her teeth. “You’re so full of yourself.” She climbed out of the car.

“Confidence is a virtue.”

“Or a sign of arrogance.” Georgia took the bag from him and sauntered toward the stoop.

Though she had not confirmed their date, Nicholas had no doubt she would be ready when he returned. Despite her declaration, his assumption was based on habit, not arrogance.

Since Celeste’s sixth birthday, she had not missed a Santiano celebration. Because of her loyalty, she was more than a friend…she was family.

Chapter 2

The door clicked behind Georgia, muffling Nicholas’s laughter.

There were times his ego got too big and he needed to be taken down a peg or two. She would have volunteered for the job if it didn’t inconvenience others.

She was certain he had already told his father she had an escort to the party. Therefore, she would not ask the older man to change his plans and give her a ride at the last minute.

Georgia retrieved the mail before heading up the steps. The tapping from her shoes against the marble floors echoed through the hall. Thanks to her father, the glow from the overhead fixture lit the stairway.

Though it was the landlord’s responsibility to maintain the hallways, her father stepped in and made repairs whenever something was broken. He figured the twenty-five cents it cost to replace the bulb was nothing compared to the cost of visiting her in the hospital if she should trip in the dark.

The aroma of fried chicken and okra greeted her when she reached the second floor. The mouthwatering smell was courtesy of the woman in the rear apartment. Despite having six mouths to feed, she would share the meal with the elderly woman who lived next door to her.

The odor of stale cigarettes seeped from the apartment across from the Collinses’. Whenever the bachelor opened the door to accept deliveries from the Chinese restaurant down the block, a thick cloud hovered in the air behind him.

Georgia turned the knob to the first apartment to the right of the stairs. As expected, she did not need her keys. Like most people in the neighborhood, they did not lock their door unless no one would be home.

“You’re late,” her father announced.

She stepped into the one-bedroom apartment they had lived in since arriving in New York when she was three. When she turned ten, well-meaning busybodies had suggested her father move them into a two-bedroom apartment so each of them could have privacy. Her father waved off the suggestion, stating he preferred the pullout in the living room, as it allowed him to see everyone who travelled between the front door and her bedroom.

Georgia never took the joke seriously. Her father never had to worry about young men slipping into the apartment. His size alone kept guys from making advances toward her.

He turned from the window, fumbling with his necktie, his forehead wrinkled. “I told you I don’t like you hangin’ out with that thug.”

Georgia pushed the door closed. Her father had never hidden his dislike for Nicholas. She suspected it had to do with the younger man’s choice to forego college and pursue a career as a bookie. Of course, Nicholas’s insistence on solving problems with his fists instead of talking things out did not help.

“I wasn’t hanging out with him. I was with Celeste this afternoon.”

“I didn’t see her in the car with you.”

“Celeste and I had a little trouble. We ended up back at her home.”

“And you couldn’t’ve taken the bus from there?”

“You know Mr. Santiano wouldn’t have allowed that.” She held up the shopping bag. “He sent food and said hello.”

“Tell him thanks for me. By the way, what time is that thug pickin’ you up?”

“How’d you know he was picking me up?” Georgia was certain she and Nicholas had not been talking loudly enough for anyone inside the building to hear their conversation.

“Who else would he take to his grandmother’s party? One of his huzzies?” He snorted. “His grandmother may be in her seventies, but she’s still capable of takin’ out trash.”

“You shouldn’t assume the women Nick dates are easy, just ’cause their skirts are tight and they wear a bit too much makeup.”

“That’s not what I base my assumptions on.”

“What then?”

“He’s a skirt chaser and only goes out with women who’ll drop their drawers for a meal and a movie.” He walked out of the room. “Put the food on the table while I get ready.”

Georgia glanced at the picture of the young woman on the wall across from the sofa. It was the first thing her father saw when he woke and the last thing he looked at before closing his eyes to go to sleep.

“How did you put up with him?”

She talked to the portrait whenever she was exasperated with her father. She had no recollection of the other woman. However, talking to the picture made her feel closer to her mother.

“At times he can be impossible.” She sighed. “Of course, considering what you two had to deal with, I guess his behavior was the least of your troubles.”

Her father never talked about the problems he’d experienced when he became involved with a woman outside his race. However, he gave her the journals her mother had kept from the time she migrated from the Philippines to three days before her death.

It had taken Georgia several weeks to read through all the pages. Some passages, like the one detailing her mother’s family disowning her because she married a colored man, were so heart-wrenching Georgia had to put the books aside for a day before she could continue.

Georgia marched down the short hall past the closet where her father hung his clothes. At the end, she opened the door to the bedroom no man had ventured into since she graduated from elementary school. Feeling she was a young lady who needed her privacy, she had asked her father to give her the nightly hug and kiss before she retreated into the room. Though he appeared hurt, he agreed to the new routine, and her bedroom became a man-free zone.

She kicked off her shoes, then pulled the door shut again and stepped into the kitchen, to the left of her room.

“You remember William Baptiste?” Her father called from the bathroom.

“Vaguely.” She raised her voice to be heard over the water he was running.

Actually, it was kind of hard for her to forget the first young man her father had mentored. Though she had only been four at the time, she remembered the day William collided into their lives.