Page 12 of Sinful Bargains

Later that day, Joey and I sat on a bench at the park, just a short drive from my school. Joey was making an effort to ease the awkwardness between us. He’d brought me a cold can of soda when he picked me up, and now we sat side by side, watching kids toss a baseball back and forth. As people passed, they greeted him casually, as if he were another familiar face in the neighborhood. No one seemed intimidated by him. If he was involved in the mafia, wouldn’t they be scared of him?

He gestured towards the two young boys tossing the baseball back and forth, and asked me, “You into baseball, kid?”

“A little.” I shrugged. “My mom doesn’t let me play much, though. Says it’s too dangerous. She says everything’s too dangerous, now that I think of it.”

“Dangerous?” He chuckled. “What’s she think you’re gonna do? Take a fastball to the head?”

I stifled my laugh and shrugged. “She worries about everything.”

“Moms are like that. It’s in the job description,” he said, sipping from his soda can. “You got a team you root for?”

“I guess I like the Yankees.” I shrugged. “I’ve never been to a game, though.”

“Never?”

“Nope,” I said, shaking my head.

“Huh. Well, that’s gotta change,” he declared with a nod.

“What do you mean?” I asked, arching my eyebrow.

“I mean,” he said with a grin, “I’m takin’ you to a Yankees game. Gotta fix this tragedy of yours. Every kid deserves to see a game, eat a hot dog, and complain about overpriced peanuts.”

“I don’t know if my mom will let me go.” I frowned, knowing she was still too terrified that the feds would find us.

“Don’t worry, kid. I’ll handle your mom. Besides, this ain’t just a game—it’s a rite of passage. Trust me, you’ll love it.” He smiled widely.

“Really? You’d take me?” I asked, mirroring his smile. “Just like that?”

“Of course,” he exclaimed. “What’s the point of livin’ this close to Yankee Stadium if you never step foot inside? How about this Saturday?”

“Yeah, okay!”

“Then it’s a date,” he said, patting his hand against my shoulder. “Just don’t tell anyone I got a soft spot for kids, alright? I got a reputation to maintain.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” I grinned.

Surely, if Joey were truly who Louis said he was—a mafia gangster—he wouldn’t be this nice to kids.

ADRIANA

Isat at the kitchen table with Angela and Lucy. Lucy had already made herself at home, fixing each of us one of her famous dirty martinis. She drank them like water, much like Angela’s constant need for cigarettes. I preferred to keep things in moderation.

Her cigarette delicately held between her fingers, Angela leaned forward with a sly grin. “So, Adriana…I heard through the grapevine that Joey’s been helping you and Antonio out while your car’s in the shop.”

Lucy grinned, sipping her martini. “That’s awfully kind of him.”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to hide how flustered they were making me. “I guess it is nice of him to help out. I could take care of things on my own, but he insisted on helping me.”

Angela exchanged a knowing look with Lucy. “Let me guess. He just happened to be there at the right moment, like some kind of brooding, Staten Island knight?”

“Oh, Adriana, let me rescue you from your car troubles with my strong, capable hands and ridiculously handsome good looks,” Lucy said, her voice dripping with a mock tone.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You two are ridiculous. He offered to help because he was driving by, and the nearest pay phone was miles up the road.”

“Did he happen to drive by, or was he keeping tabs?” Angela asked. “You know Joey has always had his ways with the ladies.”

No, I don’t know his way with the ladies. And I don’t want to know.

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