Page 3 of Big Filthy Mobster

“Eh,” he says with a wave of his hand. “I had a free evening so I figured that I’d stop by to see if you were working.”

“It seems you’re in luck, then,” I laugh as I deal him in. “This is technically my Friday. I have the next two days off.”

“You have any fun plans?” He taps the table for another card and I slide one across.

“Oh, you know,” I reply with an air of ingenuine nonchalance, “just cleaning my apartment and catching up on my reading.”

“You’re a reader?” Patrick perks up at that. “What kind of books do you read?”

“I’m pretty fond of romance novels,” I admit as I pass out more cards. “But I’m also a huge fan of mysteries.”

“I could give you some recommendations.” His grin widens as I lay down his next card—a blackjack.

“You read, too?” I can’t conceal my interest. With his well-defined muscles and rugged face, I assumed his hobbies were more like working out or maybe hitting the shooting range.

“When I can find time for it.” He smirks as I start the next round. “I spend a lot of time on planes, and I never go to the airport without a book.”

“You travel a lot?” I try to focus on the card math in my head, but can’t help but ask, “What for?”

“Work.” He drums his finger on the velvet tabletop and I wait for him to expand on that vague answer. “I get to see beautiful places, but I never get to enjoy them properly.”

“I’d love to travel,” I lament, thinking of the years I spent supporting my family instead of exploring.

It’s hard being the one everyone relies on. That’s where this sudden decision to move to this sleepy town. Cherrywood Village represents my chance to finally live for myself. And on my salary, it was my best bet to actually get away.

“You’re young,” he says easily. “You’ve got plenty of time to get out and see the world.”

“I guess you’re right.” His point is solid, but I don’t feel young. Forced to grow up early, I can’t shake the feeling my carefree years are already gone. I missed out on college. I missed out on most of my high school memories at that. I mean at this point, I’m twenty-two and have never even had a serious boyfriend. Myfirst and only kiss was in middle school because as soon as I was old enough to work, I was.

“Trust me,” Patrick reassures me, almost as if reading my thoughts. “Your best years are still ahead of you, and life is what you make it. I remember being your age and thinking life was all it was ever going to be. Just wait. There’s more to discover.”

“Huh,” I give him a warm smile, his words honestly making me feel better, “have you ever considered being a life coach?”

He lets out a full laugh that warms my whole body. “You know what? Can’t say I have.”

“Well you should and also you’re right, about what you said.” Somehow, hearing it from him makes me believe it more than I ever have. His voice and conviction settle something inside me. Moving away from New York was supposed to be my first step toward reclaiming my life. I know I need to keep moving forward.

“Of course I’m right.” He winks as the game progresses. “I have a little more life experience. There are things you can only learn by going out and living.”

Heat spreads through my chest. Even though we’re talking in public, it feels like an intimate moment. I shake my head and focus back on the game, forcing myself to remember I’m still at work. I can’t get too caught up.

The next round goes by quickly and Patrick and I don’t say much while everyone focuses on the game. But when I deal myself a blackjack and begin resetting the game, he takes that chance to speak, leaning forward as he does.

“I don’t know why, but I get the impression you’d really like London.”

“Yeah?” I lay down cards for everyone., the corner of my mouth quirking up “Why’s that?”

“From what you’ve said, I can tell you’re scrappy.” His tone leaves no room for argument as if he could really pin me that well in the two encounters we’ve had.

“If you say so,” I concede. “I think you’d like how fast-paced it is. Cherrywood Village’s great to catch your breath, but I think someone like you might get bored here. God knows I do. If it weren’t for my job, I’d get tired of being here.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I continue dealing. “I’ve always wanted to visit. Maybe that’ll be the first place I go when I finally get around to traveling.”

“You’ll have to let me know what you think of it.”

Before I can respond, my relief arrives, tapping me on the shoulder. It’s my mandatory break, and even though I’d rather stay, I know our manager’s a stickler for the rules. I can’t risk a write-up over something trivial.

“Well,” I mutter, finishing up the round and gathering cards from everyone, “that’s break time.”

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