from me or I’ll see to it
that you’re fired!”
Giada’s eyes
widened in fear. “You don’t mean
that. You couldn’t.”
“The hell I
don’t. Hey, waiter! Get your boss over here. I want this girl gone.”
Immediately,
she jumped back. “Please, don’t,
sir. You don’t know what you’re
saying. I’ll not bother you again. I swear it. Please don’t get me fired,” she begged.
By this time,
everyone in the nightclub was staring at the handsome customer shouting at the
beautiful dancer. He was making
quite a scene. She was crying and
trembling like a leaf. Soon, the
big bartender arrived and took the little woman by the shoulders, guiding her
to the dressing rooms in the back.
“Oh,
Max. Why didn’t I listen to you
and stay away from him? He’s the
devil. Can he get me fired?” The tears were streaming down her
cheeks and dripping off the end of her chin.
“He’s a rich
man, girlie. That carries weight
in this town. Now, you clean your
face, and get ready for your next number. You don’t want to get Mr. Torrio angry at you.” Max tossed her a washcloth and made a
hasty exit. He’d been away from
the bar too long, and even he could get fired.
Anthony felt
like a real prick. The girl was
sweet, too sweet to be working in a dump like this, and she only wanted to
help. Her heart was in the right
place, but he figured that was dangerous. It would be so easy to fall for a face like that. She was an old-fashioned Italian beauty
from a good family, and she deserved a lot better than him. He was muttering to himself when he
felt two strong hands grasp his shoulders.
“Let’s go
for a walk,” a deep voice commanded.
Anthony
didn’t bother to look up. He felt
no need to put his drink down and stand up. He wasn’t ready to leave. He felt the grip tighten painfully around his neck.
“Come with
me willingly, or I’ll have to persuade you.”
Anthony felt
cold metal push against his ribs. This man was serious. “Very
well,” Anthony sighed, as he emptied his drink. “I’d hate to keep you waiting.”
Max saw
Jimmy Conti forcibly escort the young man from the lounge. He knew the stranger was in
trouble. The gangsters that ran
the liquor and prostitution, on this side of town, wanted to avoid unnecessary
attention, if possible. Better
they take care of it themselves. The young man’s body would never be found.
The music
started to swell, as the lovely ladies came out and danced across the
stage. Giada stepped up just in
time to see Jimmy force the man out onto the street. She wasn’t as naïve as some people thought. She’d lived in Chicago for a long time. As the girls formed their kick line,
Giada continued on across the stage and off the other side. No one really noticed her
disappearance. As she passed the
stage door, she grabbed the axe that hung on the wall, in case of fire. It weighed almost as much as she did. She crossed herself, and exited out
into the alley.
The sound of
meaty fists striking smooth flesh and muscle reverberated throughout the night
air. The grunts from both men, the
assailant and his victim, were loud and threatening. At least they were still fighting and not shooting.
Giada ran
toward the struggling men. It
appeared that the stranger was defending himself quite admirably, until Jimmy
tired and pulled his gun.
“Stop!” she
shouted, holding the axe high in the air, resembling a fierce Carrie
Nation. If she hadn’t been deadly
serious, the image would have been amusing. “I know how to throw this, Jimmy. He’s just a drunk. Let him go, or I swear I’ll aim this axe at your chest.”
Jimmy
stopped and glared at the effrontery of the dancing girl. It was bad enough that she had refused
his attentions, but here she was, confronting him in front of a no-good
drunk. He’d have to teach her
that you’re fired!”
Giada’s eyes
widened in fear. “You don’t mean
that. You couldn’t.”
“The hell I
don’t. Hey, waiter! Get your boss over here. I want this girl gone.”
Immediately,
she jumped back. “Please, don’t,
sir. You don’t know what you’re
saying. I’ll not bother you again. I swear it. Please don’t get me fired,” she begged.
By this time,
everyone in the nightclub was staring at the handsome customer shouting at the
beautiful dancer. He was making
quite a scene. She was crying and
trembling like a leaf. Soon, the
big bartender arrived and took the little woman by the shoulders, guiding her
to the dressing rooms in the back.
“Oh,
Max. Why didn’t I listen to you
and stay away from him? He’s the
devil. Can he get me fired?” The tears were streaming down her
cheeks and dripping off the end of her chin.
“He’s a rich
man, girlie. That carries weight
in this town. Now, you clean your
face, and get ready for your next number. You don’t want to get Mr. Torrio angry at you.” Max tossed her a washcloth and made a
hasty exit. He’d been away from
the bar too long, and even he could get fired.
Anthony felt
like a real prick. The girl was
sweet, too sweet to be working in a dump like this, and she only wanted to
help. Her heart was in the right
place, but he figured that was dangerous. It would be so easy to fall for a face like that. She was an old-fashioned Italian beauty
from a good family, and she deserved a lot better than him. He was muttering to himself when he
felt two strong hands grasp his shoulders.
“Let’s go
for a walk,” a deep voice commanded.
Anthony
didn’t bother to look up. He felt
no need to put his drink down and stand up. He wasn’t ready to leave. He felt the grip tighten painfully around his neck.
“Come with
me willingly, or I’ll have to persuade you.”
Anthony felt
cold metal push against his ribs. This man was serious. “Very
well,” Anthony sighed, as he emptied his drink. “I’d hate to keep you waiting.”
Max saw
Jimmy Conti forcibly escort the young man from the lounge. He knew the stranger was in
trouble. The gangsters that ran
the liquor and prostitution, on this side of town, wanted to avoid unnecessary
attention, if possible. Better
they take care of it themselves. The young man’s body would never be found.
The music
started to swell, as the lovely ladies came out and danced across the
stage. Giada stepped up just in
time to see Jimmy force the man out onto the street. She wasn’t as naïve as some people thought. She’d lived in Chicago for a long time. As the girls formed their kick line,
Giada continued on across the stage and off the other side. No one really noticed her
disappearance. As she passed the
stage door, she grabbed the axe that hung on the wall, in case of fire. It weighed almost as much as she did. She crossed herself, and exited out
into the alley.
The sound of
meaty fists striking smooth flesh and muscle reverberated throughout the night
air. The grunts from both men, the
assailant and his victim, were loud and threatening. At least they were still fighting and not shooting.
Giada ran
toward the struggling men. It
appeared that the stranger was defending himself quite admirably, until Jimmy
tired and pulled his gun.
“Stop!” she
shouted, holding the axe high in the air, resembling a fierce Carrie
Nation. If she hadn’t been deadly
serious, the image would have been amusing. “I know how to throw this, Jimmy. He’s just a drunk. Let him go, or I swear I’ll aim this axe at your chest.”
Jimmy
stopped and glared at the effrontery of the dancing girl. It was bad enough that she had refused
his attentions, but here she was, confronting him in front of a no-good
drunk. He’d have to teach her
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