Greg tucked the aqua, silky button-up shirt into his black trousers. The top two buttons were left open, so that he could show off a gold chain. The style team had spiked his hair on top to keep him from looking too much like a cop. He almost fit the bill of Italian gangster.
Maybe.
The door opened. Ericka entered. And took his breath away.
She wore a mid-thigh length skintight dress covered in red sequins. It was long sleeved and went up to her neck, so nothing showed but her legs, her very long, toned legs.
It was more than enough.
“Wow.”
Ericka looked up. “Do you think it is too much?” She shimmied in the dress as if trying to make it wiggle down lower.
He shook his head. His tongue wanted to hang out of his mouth, and let a little drool escape, but he stopped that; however, talking was suddenly beyond him.
“If you think it’s okay, then I guess we better go.”
“I-I managed to secure a black sedan for tonight.” There, he spoke. It didn’t sound normal, but it was words.
“Okay.” She eyed him with a cocked brow.
Even though he couldn’t help it, he wasn’t going to explain. His voice would be a croak until he got over how stunning she looked.
She came closer. Her heels were at least four to five inches in height. This made her as tall as him.
He liked it.
He began to walk slowly, it might take her awhile to make it out of the building, but she wore the shoes with elegance and grace, and they didn’t stop her for a second.
On the sidewalk beside the car, he opened the door for her to enter. “I didn’t know you could wear heels.”
“There are lots of things you don’t know about me.”
He laughed. Part of him doubted that, but he let her keep believing it. Mystery made romance.
Her face turned red.
He walked around the car and entered the driver’s side. Weaving through the traffic might be more dangerous than meeting a mob boss. People were driving crazy this time of the afternoon.
And he admitted that his companion was distracting him. She kept tugging down the hem of her skirt. If he could have told her to leave it in place, he would have. Not because of the distraction either.
Doubt nagged at his mind. The words she said earlier about him not knowing everything about her, bugged him. There was no way he didn’t know everything about Ericka Stone. They’d worked together. Been friends in the military. And he’d investigated her life after she left the service.
The only part that remained a mystery was the part before the military. That he was clueless about. But as long as she gave him time, he would discover that about her as well.
They reached the Three Mile Club. A valet opened Ericka’s door before he could climb out. He really wanted to see her long legs exit the car. It would look as if a movie star had arrived. But the valet had taken this away from him. Hopefully, he would get to witness it later.
If not, maybe she could borrow the dress and they could go out on a date. If he ever got the courage to ask her out, officially that was.
She waited until he had the car arranged. He joined her on the red carpet, and they wrapped their arms together and walked toward the front door.
The tech guys had secured their entrance into the club. He flashed a special ticket at the bouncer and walked in like they belonged.
Inside the club, the music was deafening, the lights blinding.
She paused. “I can’t see a thing.”
“Let’s move toward the dance floor then scan the area.”
They’d been given information on where to look for Big Tony. If their source was telling the truth, Big Tony Demarco was indeed going legit, and he hadn’t kept it a secret. They were there to ask him not to.
At least as far as Ericka was concerned that was the plan. Greg had more details he wasn’t allowed to share. He hoped she would forgive him for that in the future.
They made it to the middle of the floor. Joan Jett’s “I Hate Myself for Loving You” blared over the loudspeaker. Ericka lifted her hands above her head and started to do a smooth wiggle type motion, very close to his body. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He forced himself to keep his hands away from her. It wasn’t easy.
She turned, placing her back to his front and moved in closer. The rose scent of her perfume was taking his breath away.
“Do you see him?”
“What?”
“Tony? Do you see Tony?”
Oh, yeah, that’s why they were there.
He started scanning the crowd. The source had given them the precise location to look. The second floor balcony was rimmed with tables. One table was for the Demarco family.
It was empty.
“No one is at the table.”
She faced him and wrapped her arms around his neck. A smile lit up her face. It wasn’t one of happiness.
“Four nights in a row. He hasn’t been at that table for four nights. How much longer are we going to do this?”
“Until he shows?” He shrugged. He was enjoying himself. The other nights they kind of walked in and tried to blend, but tonight was different. They’d dressed the part thinking it would be less likely to scare away their target.
He sort of didn’t want it to end.
She flung her head back. Long brown wavy hair reached her waist. Normally, her hair was up, but today was different. He was really enjoying this too much.
“I have an idea. Follow my lead.” She took his hand and led him toward the bar. She leaned against the counter. “Hey, bartender.”
The young man turned around. His lips curled upward in a pleased surprised kind of way. “May I help you?”
“Yes. We’re looking for Tony Demarco. Have you seen him?”
What was she doing? She was going to blow their cover!
He should stop her, but the handholding was blowing his brain. The nearness of her was warming his insides to the boiling point.
The young man cleaned a glass. He eyed the way that Ericka clung to Greg’s side. Let him look. Ericka was not available. Well, she was, but not to the likes of him. He needed a haircut and a shave.
“Not in a while. He normally sits at that table up there.”
“So, he doesn’t have a regular day he comes in?” Ericka twirled a strand of hair around her finger and pretended to chew gum.
The young man was enthralled. He would have sold her his left kidney if she’d asked. It’s what Greg would have done anyway.
“Nope. Comes in most days. Acts like a king and keeps court up there or something. I have to put a sign to keep others from sitting there because we’ve had some incidents when that happened. Now everyone who knows just kind of spreads the word. But come to think of it, I believe the place has been empty for a few days. Sorry.”
Someone called to him from farther down the bar and the young grunge dude left with only one look back and one whistle.
Ericka didn’t seem to notice his interest, as she leaned back with her elbows on the counter. “Well, that tells me something.”
“Yeah, we’re barking up the wrong tree.” And just when he was really starting to enjoy himself.
****
Tuesday morning Ericka entered the office with a big thermos of coffee in one hand and a donut in the other. Her feet still ached from those high heeled shoes the night before. Now she knew why she’d stopped wearing them.
The dress had been returned to the office closet. It had been itchy and uncomfortable. She preferred her blouses, dress jackets, slacks, and comfortable shoes so much better. Although it hadn’t been all bad. Hanging out with Greg had been interesting. She’d gotten the impression he didn’t mind it much either.
She made it to her desk and put down her stuff. Greg wasn’t in sight. He’d failed to come and pick her up for the last couple of days, sending a uniformed officer to escort her. One talked about his cat the entire ride, another was completely silent. She missed Greg’s company. She had no other friends in town.
So that meant her only real friend was behind frosted glass, moving up in the world. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She was happy for him, but she’d come to New York to work with him, not for him.
Through the glass she could make out Greg bent over his desk. He looked stressed out. Last night didn’t help matters. Big things were about to go down in the city. Things they needed a better handle on. Convincing Big Tony to come to their side of things was going to keep a full-on mob war from hitting the streets; that was, if they could find him.
“Hey, Ericka. Heard your afternoon was a bust.” Quinn. Big, buff, football-shaped jock, a computer wizard. Just as his file had said.
She needed to stop thinking about him like this and consider him her partner. Maybe one day.
“Speaking of that, what new info can you get me on the Demarco family?”
“Let’s see.” He pulled up a hierarchy on the screen. “Tony is the head, Carlo Ricci is the consigliere, Frankie, Tony’s son, is the underboss, and there is another son, Joey, but I don’t know if he does anything.”
“Joey. What do you know about him?”
“Joey, Joey.” Quinn typed in the name and waited. “Well, this is interesting.”
She’d studied the family extensively over the last couple of days, but Quinn always had more than her. Like Joey. She didn’t even know about any Joey.
She leaned over his shoulder.
“Hot breath.” Quinn shivered.
She stepped back. He was so weird.
“So Joey graduated with a business degree and a Master’s from Hudson University.”
“So, he’s legit?” She really wanted to see the screen, but Quinn’s big body was hiding it.
“I didn’t say that.”
“But—”
“I said he has a degree, but best I can tell he is unemployed.”
“Criminal record?”
“Not one I can find.”
“Make me a printout.”
“Way ahead of you.” Quinn walked away and returned with a stack of papers.
Ericka carried them to her desk. Quinn was right, Joey looked clean.
Maybe he was the one they could reach. And then he could convince his father that staying in place was for the best.
She drummed her pencil eraser against the desk. A lower level Demarco would have to be easier to reach than the head of the family. Now to find out more about Mr. Joey Demarco and convince Greg that finding the younger son and talking to him might be the only way to get to Big Tony. She could do it. She’d convinced people of harder things.