Enforcer: A Prequel Novella to the New Mafia Trilogy (6 page)

          “Nat, what’s going on with you?” I sat back down
next to her.

          “Everything,” she hiccupped through a sob. “Toby
and I broke up and God, he’s such an asshole. Of course Mom hasn’t been
sympathetic at all, plus I want to go to college so bad, but it’s so expensive
and I need to get out of here, Grant. I refuse to live here and go to school in
York.”

She was all over the place with her verbal diarrhea, so I
held my hand up, indicating she needed to slow it down.

          “Hold on, back up, what happened with Toby?”

Natalie proceeded to tell me how the little fucker cheated
on her and then plastered copies of the nude portrait he painted of her all
over the school, even posted it on Facebook. Toby’s older brother, Ethan, was
in my class and I never liked the guy. Guess his brother was a mini-me. I
briefly contemplated paying Toby a visit, but knew I couldn’t fight all of
Natalie’s battles.

          “Fuck him, Nat. You’re better off without him and please,
don’t pose nude for anyone ever again. Okay?” She sniffled and nodded, her
cheeks flushing at the mention of posing nude. “As far as college goes, there
are tons of loans and grants available. That’s how I’ve been paying for Drexel.
Have you thought about where you want to go?”

          “Yeah, I applied to University of the Arts and
Tyler School of Art at Temple. I want to be in Philly with you. I’ll be coming
down to check out the campuses. Can you come with?”

Fuck, I should have anticipated this. It was so much easier keeping
my new life separate from my family with them safely tucked away in York. I
rubbed the back of my neck and forced a smile. “Sure, Nat. Let me know when,” I
promised.

          “Yay!” She cried out and threw her arms around me.
I hugged her back until we both awkwardly pulled away. Showing affection wasn’t
big in our family. I left her on the sofa so I could have some time alone to
think. If Natalie decided to go to school in Philadelphia, I couldn’t stop her
and it was going to be hard to balance everything while keeping my business
with the mafia a secret.

The next day I got called back to the city and I had never
felt so stretched thin. On the drive to Philadelphia, I decided that family
came first; both my own family and the Grabanos. Natalie could make something
of herself if given the opportunity. Even though she didn’t give herself enough
credit, her artwork was scholarship-worthy. Realistically, I knew my future was
with the mafia and there was no going back, but Natalie had a chance at
building a great future. I would do anything within my means to help her secure
that future. That was when I decided to drop out of Drexel.

2009

Once school was out of the picture, I really came into my
own at Crimson and quickly moved up to head of security. In April, I was given
the promotion right before a new manager started.

Marco had been keeping the new hire a secret and all of the
employees were curious.

          “Hey Grant, have you heard anything?” Joey D.
asked me when I walked into the employee lounge. He was sitting on the black
leather sofa eating a hoagie.

          “Nope. I thought it might be Dante, but he’s
managing Butter now. We’ll just have to wait until tonight’s staff meeting for
the announcement.”

I left the employee lounge to do a sweep of the club,
checking to make sure the rear delivery doors were secure. The kitchen was
buzzing with the sounds of food prep. Crimson didn’t have an extensive menu and
offered the usual pub fare, but oil still needed to be heated and sauces mixed.
As I exited through the kitchen door, I heard Marco’s gruff voice. I spotted
him by the manager’s office and started to walk over, but hesitated when I saw
who he was with. His daughter stood next to him and she was nodding at whatever
he was saying. Miranda looked amazing in a black skirt that hugged her ass. Her
dark hair draped down her back and was clipped up on one side with a silver
barrette, reminding me of an old school movie star.

Marco unlocked the manager’s office and swung the door open,
handing Miranda the keys before they stepped inside. Holy shit! Miranda was the
new manager? I rubbed the back of my neck and started to pace up and down by
bar three. This presented a challenge. I needed to be the eyes and ears of
Crimson, but knew Miranda would be a distraction. Even after one brief glimpse,
almost a year after our moment at the shore, I couldn’t get her out of my head.
Marco’s daughter was forbidden territory too. Fuck! I stalked back to the
employee lounge and dropped down on the sofa next to Joey D.

          “Well, the boss’ daughter is going be our new
boss,” I told him.

          “What?” Joey asked, his voice garbled by a
mouthful of hoagie.

          “Yeah, just saw Marco walk Miranda into the office
and hand her the keys. I’m pretty sure it’s a done deal.”

          “Well shit, I never woulda thought.”

          “Me either.” I leaned forward with my elbows
propped on my knees and stared at the crimson red wall across from me as
thoughts of kissing Miranda clouded my mind. It was going to be an interesting
night.

We all gathered around the bar nearest to the dance floor.
In total there were ten waitresses, fifteen bartenders, four bar backs, twelve
bouncers and then the five kitchen staff, plus Tara, the girl who worked the
front register. We waited for Marco to make his announcement and when he
stepped out of the office with Miranda behind him, my suspicions were
confirmed. We all stood a little straighter when Marco’s dark gaze passed over
us. Like usual, he got right down to business.

          “Most of you know my daughter, Miranda.” Marco
grabbed Miranda by her arm and tugged her forward so she was standing next to
him. “Well, she’s the new manager for Crimson. What she says goes. You don’t
like it you can get the fuck out. Understood?”

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the small crowd. Marco’s
little speech was over and he started to walk away, concluding the staff
meeting when a strong, woman’s voice called out. “Now that my dad is done with
the introductions, I want you all to know that I’m not planning any changes.
You do your job and we shouldn’t have any issues.” I stood at the back of the
crowd with my arms crossed watching Miranda address her staff and admiring how
she took charge. She didn’t look down at her feet or fidget, her shoulders were
straight and she made eye contact with everyone. Suddenly her eyes were on mine
and she paused. I noticed that she pursed her lips, briefly pinching them into
a straight line before she moved on, but she couldn’t disguise the slight flush
that appeared on her cheeks.

After the meeting, some of the employees hovered around making
small talk with Miranda. Others went to their designated stations to get ready
for what was expected to be a busy night. I noticed Mike, one of my guys, roll
his eyes at something Miranda said before walking away. I was tempted to call
him out on it, but let it slide. I had a feeling Miranda could handle herself
just fine. Besides, I had other shit to deal with. A movie had just finished
filming in town and the wrap party was going to be held in the V.I.P. lounge.
Word got out to the local media and which celebrities were going to be at
Crimson so I had called in all of my guys to work security.

Once Miranda was alone, I made my approach. Her shoulders
tensed when she saw me and she gave me a hesitant smile.

          “Hey, remember me?” I asked.

          “Yes, of course.”

I stopped right in front of her, standing closer to her than
I would anyone else. An overhead light reflected on the top of her hair, making
the black appear almost silver. I remembered how it felt to run my hands
through those thick waves. Our gazes locked for a few heated moments before
Miranda took a step back and cleared her throat.

          “Grant, what happened at the shore is in the past.
It was a one-time thing and can’t happen again. I’m the manager and need to
keep everything platonic; professional.”

          “Understood,” I said, even though I was
experiencing a foreign sensation: the sting of rejection. “I just came over to
talk about tonight’s security detail and to run over procedures.”

          “Oh, okay, good. Whatcha got?” she asked, relaxing
her stance once the topic returned to business.

We talked for a few minutes and I reviewed the emergency
evacuation plan in case anything happened. When I first started working at
Crimson, some asshole had smuggled in a can of pepper spray and released it
inside the club which caused panic and chaos. Before that we didn’t have a plan
for emergencies.

We wound up sitting on two of the bar stools lined up
alongside one of the bars and our conversation steered away from work toward
more getting-to-know one another topics. I found out that she had studied
business management at Wharton at the University of Pennsylvania and while she
liked watching football, hockey was her favorite sport.

          “Why hockey?” I asked.

          “Because you have these big hulking guys, you know
they’re built like you, but they’re so graceful on the ice. I love how one
minute sheer athleticism and skill is being displayed then the next minute
someone’s getting body checked and all hell breaks loose.”

          “So, you like a good fight, what about boxing or
MMA?”

          “Dad has taken me to AC when there’s a big boxing
match and it’s okay, but kind of boring. I like the spontaneity of a hockey
fight. They’re not there to deliberately punch each other, it just happens
organically.”

          “I’ll have to take you to a Flyers game sometime,”
I said and it was obviously the wrong thing to say. Professional Miranda
returned with the stiffening of her shoulders and she sat up straighter,
inserting an invisible barrier between us.

          “That’s not a good idea,” she said and stood up.
“I need to go get ready – doors open in twenty.” Just like that she was marching
across the dance floor.

***

It went on like that for close to three months. We had great
side conversations and made each other laugh, but the moment I attempted to take
it to the next level and ask her out, she shut me down. Finally, I was so
frustrated, that I asked one of the shooter girls, who I had fucked before, to
come back to my place for an encore. We were getting ready to leave the club when
Miranda opened the door to her office. Light spilled out into the dimly lit
club and she leaned against the doorframe. I thought I saw her green eyes
narrow when she noticed my arm around the shooter girl’s waist.

          “Grant, I need to talk to you about something,”
Miranda said and stepped back inside the office. “Nicki, this might be a while,
so head on home,” she dismissed the girl. Nicki scowled when I released my hold
on her.

          “What the fuck?” she hissed, but not loud enough
for Miranda to hear.

          “Relax, go on home, I’ll call you when I’m done,”
I smacked her lightly on her ass and she giggled while jumping at the same
time, scurrying for the exit.

          “I’ll be waiting for you,” she promised, adding an
exaggerated swing to her hips.

I exhaled heavily and rubbed the back of my neck, convinced
I was going to have blue balls for the rest of my life. Of all nights for
Miranda to call a last minute meeting, she chose this one. With a frustrated
sigh, I locked the exit door after Nicki left and followed Miranda into her
office. She was leaning against her desk with her legs stretched out in front
her, crossed at the ankles. My eyes traveled up their tanned and toned length.

Miranda cleared her throat and I looked up to find her
shaking her head at me, but I noticed the trace of a smile turning up the
corners of her mouth. I smiled at her and leaned against the opposite wall, my
feet were just inches away from the tips of her open toe heels which revealed
red polish that matched her lipstick.

          “So, what did you want to talk about?” I asked.

She sighed and crossed her arms in front of her chest. I
couldn’t help but notice this pushed her breasts up higher. “My dad is worried
about me leaving the club late and alone. He thinks it leaves me vulnerable and
since he’s usually pissing people off, they could use me to get to him.”

I nodded, in complete agreement with Marco. Miranda usually
came and went without a glance over her shoulder. A guy smaller than me could
easily pick her up and toss her into a waiting vehicle. “He’s right, you know.”

She rolled her eyes and huffed. “Yeah, I know, but I can
take care of myself. I’m a grown woman.”

          “…and Marco Grabano’s daughter. You have a target
on your back by association,” I added.

          “He’s being paranoid and overprotective.”

          “Why? What does he want?” I asked.

          “He wants you to escort me to and from work.”

I liked Marco’s line of thinking, but for than one reason.
This provided an opportunity for me to get to know her better outside of the
club. “Consider it done. I take it this starts tonight?”

          “I don’t want to interrupt your date with Nicki,”
Miranda said with a snippy tone.

          “We’re not dating,” I clarified, pushing off of
the wall and standing up straight. “Ready to go?”

          “Oh.” She tucked a stray hair behind her ear.
“Yes, I’m ready.” She grabbed her bag off of the desk. I recognized the “C”
pattern and it reminded me of how I gave Natalie a Coach wallet for her
birthday and she freaked out over it; actually squealed.

I held the office door open for Miranda and then waited
outside the club for her to set the alarm on the exterior doors. We walked side
by side to the employee lot which was cast in a bluish light from the bright
neon sign for “Blue”, the after-hours club located next to Crimson. A few
people were hanging about smoking and the bass from the club pulsed at a sonic
level.

As we approached Miranda’s forest green Jaguar, I noticed it
was leaning more to one side. Taking out my phone, I clicked on the flashlight
app and pointed the light at her car, revealing two extremely flat tires.  It
didn’t require a forensic scientist to determine this wasn’t an accident.
Puncture wounds from a sharp object were clearly visible.

          “What the hell?” Miranda burst out.

          “I think your dad knew something was up and it
isn’t coincidence that he wants me to escort you.”

          “Shit, it’s always something!” She kicked at the
deflated rubber and let out an adorable, frustrated growl.

          “Come on, we shouldn’t be standing around like
this. I’ll take you home and we’ll deal with this once the sun’s up.” I placed
a hand on the small of her back and guided her to my car. Holding the passenger
door open for her, I did a quick scan of the parking lot looking for anything
unusual. The light bulbs for the two lights at the back of the lot had been
shattered. I made a note to have those replaced and security cameras installed
to cover this area.

          “Who do you think did it?” Miranda asked as I
pulled out onto Columbus Boulevard.

          “I’m not sure, but I bet your dad has an idea.”

Miranda sighed and leaned her head back against the
headrest. “I’m sure he does.”  She yawned and turned to look at me. “I’m glad
you were there. It would’ve sucked having to dealing with two flat tires by
myself.”

          “I’m here for you, not just because we work
together, I hope you know that.”

She gave me a faint smile and nodded her head. “I know,
Grant. I like you, but you know it will never work between us. My dad would
probably cut off your balls or something.”

It was my turn to sigh as I started my car. As much as I
liked Miranda, I liked my balls more. The rest of the ride was quiet and I
parked a few doors down from Marco’s house. “What are you doing? I don’t live
here anymore,” Miranda said when I went to get out of the car.

          “Either you stay here tonight or I stay with you
at your place. After what happened to your car, you can’t be left alone.”

          “Overreact much?” she huffed, but didn’t get out
of the car. “Fine, you can sleep on my sofa. I really don’t want to deal with
my dad right now and next time, ask me first don’t just assume.”

Miranda lived in a two story brick row home on Bainbridge
Street, one block over from South Street and several blocks away from her
childhood home. Most of the businesses on South Street were closed since it was
so late, making it easier to find parking. I stayed close by Miranda’s side as
we walked up the uneven brick sidewalk to her front door, keeping my eyes out
for any threats. We were the only ones out, aside from a bum digging through a
trash can at the end of the street.

She unlocked her door and immediately flipped a switch,
which turned on the hallway light. I went in first, doing a quick search of
both floors, taking extra time in her bedroom, flipping up her floral comforter
to look underneath her bed. I checked inside her closet, but there were so many
clothes jammed inside, that any intruder who attempted to hide in there would
be suffocated. When I returned, Miranda was standing in the hallway with her
arms crossed over her chest and an annoyed look on her face. “All clear?” she
asked.

          “Yeah, you’re good.”

Miranda hung her bag up on the knob at the end of the stair
railing and walked upstairs. I started to follow and she paused, looking down
at me, “I’m grabbing sheets and blanket for you and will be right back down.”
She shook her head and I heard her mumble, “Jesus Christ this is such a pain in
the ass,” as she continued her ascent. I laughed and went into the living room,
which was the first room on the left. Since I did a cursory glance before, I
took more time to really survey the space. It was decorated in muted blues and
grays. A gray suede sectional took up most of the space. Lavender colored throw
pillows that matched the drapes were tossed haphazardly along the sofa.  A flat
screen television was mounted above a bricked over fireplace on the opposite
wall. On the dark wood coffee table there were a few frames so I bent over to
peer at the photos. There was a family picture with Marco, Paulina, Miranda and
her little brother, Paulie. It was taken at the shore house on the deck and the
ocean sparkled behind them. Another picture was of Miranda with a group of
girls, each holding a drink and smiling widely at the camera.

A creak on the floorboard alerted me to Miranda’s approach
so I straightened up and turned just as she entered the living room with an
armful of bedding. I watched as she quickly made up the sofa.

          “Okay, you’re all set. Since you gave yourself a
tour, you know where the bathroom is?” I nodded and she continued, “I don’t
have an extra toothbrush or anything.”

          “I’ll be fine, go get some sleep.”