Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
She has a hard-on for the Family, the same as her mom had, and I intend to find out what it’s all about.
My next errand is to take care of the Stan Matranga situation. I drive to the address in Forest Hill Al gave me and park in the circular drive. No sense hiding my presence. I check my gun before getting out and putting it in my waistband.
Movement in the blinds of the window tells me they know I’m here.
Forest Hill is one of the nicest neighborhoods in the Newark area, and the brick house is stately and expensive with vines crawling up the sides and bushes cut into spirals. There’s a heavy brass knocker hanging from the door. I pick it up and slam it down twice.
Stan opens the door himself, blocking the entrance aggressively. He’s not the boss of the Matrangas, but he’s a capo, and his moving to Jersey doesn’t bode well.
“Stan.” I use a false-friendly tone. “Heard you moved to Jersey. Thought I’d stop by and welcome you myself.” I let the menace in my gaze show him my welcome is in the form of a threat.
Stan’s eyes dart right and left, verifying I’m alone. “Yeah, just getting settled,” he says.
“Stan? Who is it?” A woman’s voice calls from inside the house.
“No one. Don’t worry about it.” To me, he says, “Hope you don’t mind if I don’t invite you in—boxes are still getting unpacked, you know.”
“Of course, of course. What brings you to Jersey?”
He jerks his thumb in the direction of the interior. “Wife liked the neighborhood here. Said the schools were better for the kids.”
I sincerely doubt Stan’s kids go to public school. I doubt his kids are still school-age.
“You know, Al wouldn’t like it if he thought your organization was pushing into our territory, you hear what I’m saying?”
“Yeah, sure. I know what you’re saying. But don’t worry—I’m just living here. Not doing any business.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Just living here. Our business remains in New York.”
I give him a long look, letting him know I’m watching him, then I nod slowly. “Make sure it does.”
He looks back at me, steadily. It’s a pissing contest but neither of us are going to swing. Or shoot. We both know what this is.
I turn to walk away, and he mutters “Stronzo” as he shuts the door.
I call Al as I drive away. “Yeah, just visited Stan. He says he moved to Forest Hill for the schools.”
Al snorts.
“I know. I warned him not to conduct business here.”
“And?”
I shrug even though Al can’t see it. “He says he won’t. I guess we’ll see.”
“You meeting with your informer with the FBI any time soon?” Al asks.
“Tuesday.”
“Good. See if he’s heard anything.”
“Yeah.” I end the call and drive home.
I have a date to get ready for.
And of course, since Sophie mentioned sex as part of our negotiation, it’s all I have on my mind. I know I’ll have to work for it. I’ll have to work just to get a second date. She’s not that into me.
But she will be. I’ll make sure of that.
Sophie
Freshly waxed, showered, and with new sexy panties on, I’m ready for my date with Joey. I don’t want to be excited about it.
I really don’t.
But I keep remembering what it felt like to be bent over the massage table by him. To have him slap my ass hard before he pushed into me. It was disrespectful, but I didn’t feel disrespected.
I didn’t know I’d like it rough, but I do.
A lot.
So now, despite my decision not to have sex with him again, I’m sex-ready in case he wants a repeat.
Who am I kidding? Of course, he wants a repeat. He’s a man. Probably quite a player. A guy that good-looking with money and power can probably get any woman he wants. I’m not sure why he’s pursuing me.
I put on a coat of mascara and take a critical look at myself in the mirror. If I’m honest, I admit this is the first time I’ve taken much effort in a long while.
I absolutely love being a massage therapist. It’s satisfying in many ways, but it’s damn hard to make ends meet. I’m still paying off massage school loans, and I have to pay rent at the studio and support myself. At least my car is paid off now.
The doorbell rings, and I open the door. Joey gives me an appreciative up-and-down sweep of his gaze and whistles. “You just made my night.”
My heart thuds with pleasure, but I play it cool. “How?” I step back to let him in. I’m wearing a short black skirt with bare legs and strappy heels, and a purple halter top that makes my boobs look amazing.
“I hoped you’d wear another short skirt.”
I roll my eyes, trying to hide my pleasure.