SEAN: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 3) (102 page)

Chapter Fifteen

 

“Roebling’s pizza. Brooklyn, please.” Laura slid into the backseat of the car in a hurry. Her mouth watered, and she could practically taste the cheesy goodness. “Mason, come on, I’m starving.”

Mason slipped in next to her with a puzzled look on his face and handed her an envelope.

“What’s this?”

“I have no idea. It was tucked under the wiper blade and has your name on it.”

“Huh? Whatever it is can wait. I want to get going.”

“Suit yourself.”

The car pulled off and headed towards Brooklyn. “I’m going to call in the order for pickup. My feet are killing me, and I just want to be home already. Does that work for you?”

“By all means.” He started to undo his bowtie. “The sooner I can strip this thing off the better.”

“I agree. Rowr.”

Laura lowered the privacy partition. “I’m going to call in a pizza order. Would you mind running in to grab it for me when we get there? I’d rather not risk drawing attention to myself in this dress.”

“Absolutely, Miss Ross. That won’t be a problem.”

“Great. I’m going to give them my card number over the phone, so all you have to do is sign the slip.”

“Will do, Miss Ross.”

“Thank you!” She hit the button to raise the partition again and turned to Mason. “You know, I have no idea what his name is, and that makes me feel rude and like an idiot. What is it?”

Mason smiled. “I call him by his last name, Smith, but his first name is Greg.”

“Great. Thanks. I was too embarrassed to ask him in case he had told it to me at one point and I forgot.”

They rode along in silence the rest of the way. Mason rested his head in Laura’s lap so she could play with his thick, dark hair.

The mood was relaxed, as if they had been together forever, with no time lost at all. Somehow in the midst of the whirlwind, Laura had forgiven him. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but she was glad it had.

The driver tapped on the partition. Laura lowered the glass for him.

“We’re here, Miss Ross. What did you order so I know what I’m getting?”

“A small primavera and two cans of Coke. Thanks, Greg.”

Greg smiled and tipped his cap before running into the restaurant. He returned within five minutes with their food and handed it back through the window. “Where to now, Miss Ross?”

“Printhouse Apartments, 10th Street, Brooklyn, please.”

Greg nodded and pulled away.

“Wake up, Prince Charming. We’ll be home in a couple of minutes.” She gently shook her sleeping lap warmer.

“I’m awake.” He sniffed the air. “Oh, that pizza smells like heaven.”

The car came to a stop, and the engine died. Greg opened their door to let them out.

“Thanks, Smith. You can head home. I won’t need you tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

The driver tipped his hat and headed home.

The four-story stair climb in heels was the worst idea Laura had ever had, but the elevator was closed for maintenance. By the time they reached her apartment, her knees and lower back were screaming.

“Hold this, please.” Laura handed Mason the pizza and still unopened envelope to fish her keys out of her clutch. She was so proud of that tiny black bag because it was a genuine vintage Prada she had found for next to nothing at a secondhand shop.

“Just put the food on the counter,” she called over her shoulder as the door swung in. “I’ll give you the humble tour in a min–” Something felt wrong.

The tiny industrial apartment looked the same as when she had left that afternoon, but something was off. She peered to the left towards the living room. The blinds were still closed and not a knick-knack was disturbed. The kitchen still had her dirty cereal bowl on the counter from that morning. Everything was as she had left it.

“Is everything all right? You look tense.”

Laura exhaled. She felt silly. Maybe it was because she had been spending so little time there in recent weeks that just the overall vibe was becoming unfamiliar.

“Yeah. I just need to spend more time at home. I feel like I accidentally walked into a stranger’s apartment.” She pushed the door all the way open. “Come on in and make yourself at home. I’m going to go change.”

She kicked off her heels with a sigh. Her feet and back sighed with relief as well. She knew she would have to soak in the tub later to loosen up all of the tendons in her lower half.

She still felt something weird when she crossed the threshold into her bedroom, but again, nothing had been touched. So she undressed and changed into her favorite pair of sweats. They were red with the Boston Red Sox logo emblazoned on one leg. They were a gift from one of her past conquests, but they were the most comfortable pair of pants she owned, so throwing them away wasn’t an option. She slipped a white, thin-strapped tank on and went to take down her hair.

She silently thanked her stylist for managing to put her mop up with only six pins, and when she raked her fingers through to loosen the length, it fell into nearly perfect Victoria’s Secret hair. “Joss, you are an evil genius,” she whispered to her reflection. She would have to tip him big next time she saw him.

She sauntered out to the kitchen. Her stomach was not going to put up with another delay. “Go ahead and change, Mase. I may have a pair of sweatpants you can change into. Check the top drawer.” She giggled at the thought of him in any one of the girlie colors in the rainbow that was her pajama drawer.

She lifted the lid on the pizza box and breathed deep, the aroma of tomatoes and peppers intoxicating. She was about to tuck in when she noticed a second envelope on her counter. The only markings on it were the letters of her name, typed using an old typewriter.

Remembering she still had the one from the car, she slid that one out from under the pizza box and opened that one first. Another torn and ragged old book page floated out of the envelope onto the granite. Feeling curious, she opened the yellowed paper.

 

You left me, sweet, two legacies, –

A legacy of love

A Heavenly Father would content,

Had He the offer of;

 

You left me boundaries of pain

Capacious as the sea,

Between eternity and time,

Your consciousness and me.

 

Confused, she tore into the second envelope, far less neatly than she had the first one.

Ah! ever I behold

Thy dreamy, passionate eyes,

Blue as the languid skies

Hung with the sunset's fringe of gold;

Now strangely clear thine image grows,

And olden memories

Are startled from their long repose

Like shadows on the silent snows

When suddenly the night-wind blows

Where quiet moonlight lies.

 

 

Like music heard in dreams,

Like strains of harps unknown,

Of birds for ever flown,–

Audible as the voice of streams

That murmur in some leafy dell,

I hear thy gentlest tone,

And Silence cometh with her spell

Like that which on my tongue doth dwell,

When tremulous in dreams I tell

My love to thee alone!

 

In every valley heard,

Floating from tree to tree,

Less beautiful to me,

The music of the radiant bird,

Than artless accents such as thine

Whose echoes never flee!

Ah! how for thy sweet voice I pine:–

For uttered in thy tones benign

(Enchantress!) this rude name of mine

Doth seem a melody!

 

The Poe poem was incomplete. It must have had a first page that didn’t say what the sender needed to be said.

Still confused, Laura rummaged through her purse for the first poem from earlier that day. The words of Oscar Wilde, Emily Dickinson, and Edgar Allan Poe all taunted her, daring her to piece a meaning together.

“Mason! Can you come out here please?”

Mason strutted out of the bedroom in a pair of teeny tiny teal blue gym shorts. He posed and postured, but fell deadly serious when he saw Laura’s confused expression. “What is it?”

“Did you send these poems to me?”

Mason walked over to the counter and examined the musty pages. “No. I didn’t. I don’t even like Oscar Wilde. Where did these come from?”

“The Wilde poem was from earlier this afternoon at the office. The Dickinson one was left on the car, and the Edgar Allen Poe poem was here on my countertop. I knew something didn’t feel right when we walked in. I figured you must have left them as, I don’t know, some sort of an atonement letter or something romantic somehow. You had sent gifts to the office before, so I didn’t think anything of the poems until now.”

She stared at the pages again, trying desperately to figure out what these three pieces meant and who possibly could have sent them to her.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t stay here tonight. I’ll just call Smith to come back and get us. We can stay at my flat tonight. I don’t want you remaining here in case whoever dropped by decides to again.” Mason started back towards the bedroom to retrieve his clothes and cellphone. “Feel free to pack for as long as you need to until we can figure this thing out.”

Laura nodded. A shiver ran up her spine. Whoever this was had seriously violated her. She wracked her brain trying to remember if she’d seen the envelope on the counter that morning or not. Before that she had spent two days at Mason’s, so she had no clue how long that envelope had been there.

“Look me in the eyes right now. I’m going to ask you one more time: did you leave these poems for me as some sort of prank to rile me up? Because I am not fucking amused.”

“Laura, I swear on everything I have ever loved that I had nothing to do with those.”

Chapter Sixteen
             

 

“You want to go where for Christmas?” The clock had been ticking down to the holidays, and Laura Ross was being offered a chance to take an extended vacation through the entire month of December.

“I’d like to take you to Switzerland. Is your passport up to date?” Mason Decker was hoping Laura would take some time for a romantic getaway.

“Mason, I always go see my parents for the holidays. It’s the only time of the year I can get away to see them. It will crush my parents if I bail.”

“Then they can come too.” Mason’s ice blue eyes twinkled with excitement. They were finally at a point in their relationship where he could get her to leave New York for a bit.

Mason always shut down operations for the two weeks of Christmas and New Year’s. This gave his employees uninterrupted family time and him the opportunity to get out of the sleet and cold for a while. He was hoping to extend that to the whole month.

“I don’t know. Dad has his back issue…”

“I’ll give him a call then and see if he and your mum would be up to a flight to Europe.” He held his breath in the hopes she would take the bait.

“Mason, please! I’m not sure I can get away that long, and my dad hates to fly!” A lie, sure, but the reality was she wasn’t so sure if she was ready to spend all that time playing house with him again.

“You can’t tell me your father wouldn’t be gung ho to have spiked hot chocolate and ringli in a place that actually looks like Santa’s Village? He’s a Christmas nut.” Mason fondly recalled a few Christmases with the Ross family, “Remember that one year he was all Clark Griswold the entire night? He was so happy with his decorations that it didn’t matter that the house caught fire a little.”

The apprehension on Laura’s face dampened the playful mood. He didn’t want to go into dom mode, but Laura was being difficult. “Call your parents,” he ordered, and walked away.

Laura stuck her tongue out at his back. Of course she was going to call her parents, after the knot came unraveled in the pit of her stomach.

Yeah, this was just a vacation, but they had been back together less than six months, and spending that much time together under one roof again was scary.

Before she and Mason had broken off their engagement, nearly nine years before, Laura had happily slipped into the role of housewife-to-be. She knew Mason was taking it easy, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that a month away together was his way of test-driving the idea again.

Mason had never given her a reason to feel that way. He didn’t hint at marriage or living together. He had always understood when she wanted to go home and let her without an argument – except for the three strange letters she had received in September. He had forced her to stay with him for ten days in case the invader decided to come back.

It was only when she threatened him with bodily harm that he finally acquiesced and let her go back home.

Outside of those three letters, nothing else had happened. Laura installed new locks and an extra deadbolt on her door, but other than that her life had returned to normal.

She plunked down on her overstuffed leather couch. The fabric felt cool and soothing on the backs of her legs. It helped to calm her scattered thoughts.

She scrolled up and down through her contact list over and over, contemplating whether or not to call her dad. The knobs in her shower squeaked, and the sound of running water echoed into the room.

She and Mason had just had yet another fantastic midday romp. She had particularly enjoyed this one because, for the first time, she’d let Mason use an object on her. She squirmed against the smooth leather to agitate the welts from the paddle. The after-burn was almost as erotic as the act itself. It was a big surprise to her that she had enjoyed such a firm spanking.

“What the hell?” she whispered to herself. She hit the dial button and called her dad. With her parents there as a buffer, life wouldn’t get too awkward, right? The phone rang three times.

“Baby doll! It’s been a little bit. How are ya?”

“Hey, Daddy.” Her father was sunshine for her. She smiled the second she heard his voice. “I’ve been good. Is Ma around, too?”

“Of course! Did you need to talk to her too?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind, could you grab her and put the phone on speaker, please?”

“Sure. Gimme a sec.” Laura heard the tap as her dad placed the phone down, followed shortly by echoing shouts from across the room. A minute later he was back.

“I got you on speaker, honey. What’s up?”

“Hi, Laura. I miss you sweetie!” her mom’s baby voice cut in. The woman was in her fifties, but could pass for ten on the phone.

“Hi, Ma. I miss you, too.”

As usual, her mother grabbed the conversation in a chokehold and refused to let go. For a solid fifteen minutes her mom chatted away about everything and nothing. She told Laura about the new family at church, how the early frost had wiped out her tomatoes, and spared no detail about her latest doctor’s appointment. She had apparently had a colonoscopy.

“And the liquid they gave me to drink, my God, it was the most foul thing I have ever tasted. I thought I would actually sh–”

“All right,” her dad interjected, “the girl called us, and I’m sure she didn’t want to hear all about you having the shits or procedure.”

For another couple of minutes, Laura’s parents bickered back and forth. She had to mute her phone as she snorted in amusement.

“Sorry, Laura. You know how your mother is.”

“Hey! Robbie, you bastard.” Somehow her dad had managed to stifle her after that outburst.

“It’s okay, Dad. I just wanted to ask you guys about Christmas. Mason wanted to take a vacation and asked me to invite you guys along too.”

“Oh, honey, I am so happy you and that British boy got back together. You two were so good as a couple. And he’s so handsome!”

“Thanks, Ma.” Even over the phone she was mortified. “I’m glad too. Anyway, Mason wanted to have Christmas in Switzerland. Would you both like to come?” The silence following her question was unnerving. She couldn’t recall either of her parents not speaking for more than three seconds at a time.

“That sounds like fun, baby doll, but your mother and I have plans.”

“What?!” She hadn’t expected that answer. Every year she went to visit. It was their thing. “When were you going to tell me?” Laura whined.

“We were gonna call you this week, Laura,” Joanie explained softly. “Your father won a contest at the office. We’re going to spend five days in Aspen.”

“Yeah. You’d be so proud. I managed to sell the most piping out of everybody there.” She could hear him beaming in his voice. “One of the developers in Springfield was planning to rip up and repave where the roads were the worst. He ordered hundreds of miles of pipe from me because every road is a mess.”

“That’s great, Daddy.” Laura’s heart sank. She had gotten so used to the routine that it never occurred to her that one day, her parents may have something better to do. “I hope you guys have fun on your trip. I’ll try to figure out a time when I can come see you.”

“You too, honey,” Joanie chirped. “I’ve seen pictures. Switzerland looks so romantic this time of the year. I hope you two kids take advantage.”

Laura interjected, “Okay, Ma, Daddy, I love you guys, but I have to go. Mason wants to go to lunch. I’ll talk to you soon!” she lied. That was too close. Laura didn’t think she could handle another lecture about her mother wanting grandkids.

“So, did you call your parents?” Mason suddenly appeared and leaned against the bathroom doorjamb, looking casually sexy wearing nothing but a white towel.

“Yeah.” Laura had to take a second to put her thoughts back together. The towel hung low on his hips, revealing several inches of Adonis. “Um, I’m kind of surprised. They will be on vacation themselves.”

“Really?” Mason was genuinely surprised. The Rosses rarely went anywhere.

“Dad won a trip to Aspen from his job. Looks like it’s just you and me for Switzerland.” She watched a huge smile spread across Mason’s face. “Assuming I can get the time off. Daniel can be a bastard about time requests.”

“Of course. Any time you can get I can work around.” Mason stalked over to the sofa and bent down for a kiss. Laura gripped the back of his neck with one hand and claimed his mouth with hers.

“You naughty girl. I have to get to the office.” Mason grinned at her, his eyes gone sleepy with lust.

Laura hooked the edge of the towel, drawing him in closer. “Looks like you’ll be a little late then,” she declared as she stripped the towel off.

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