Page 31 of Working for the Mob

Self-righteous dolt.

Was Art avoiding me, or could he really not spare five minutes to check on us? My face must have betrayed my thoughts because his eyebrows rose and he gave me a knowing smile.

“And you must be Genevieve,” the man said, and held out his hand. “I’m Henry. I work for Art.”

His grip was firm and comforting.

“How do you know my name?” I asked him.

“Art told me who you were,” he said, with a smirk. The man was withholding something. I fixed him with a cool glare, but it didn’t wipe away his smile. “It’s the way you say Art.”

Somehow, my hands had found their way to my hips. “And how do I say Art?”

“Like he just pulled your pigtails on the playground,” his mischievous smile. “But you secretly want him to do it again.”

“And why would I want him to do it again?” I tried my ‘be careful with your answer’ look that my mom patented, but I must not have pulled it off because Henry’s bravado never wavered.

“Because you like his attention,” Henry said.

I scoffed. “I do not like attention.”

“I didn’t say you likedattention. Justhisattention,” Henry said, smoothly.

The last person I wanted attention from was Art Necci! I wanted him to leave me alone.

I was about to scold Henry, but he cut me off. “Don’t worry. He says your name the same way.”

I stuck out my jaw and surveyed him coolly. I needed to try a different angle. “Why couldn’t Art come down here himself?”

“He’s stuck on some call for work. This town doesn’t run itself, you know.”

That’s a good excuse for Art to save face. I was about to call Henry on his tall tale, but was cut off again.

“Hey Genny,” Lucy said, and strode through the door from the back room. “If you could finish wiping down the tables, I’ll clean the coffee maker.”

She stopped at the sight of Henry. “Oh. I’m sorry, but we’re closed right now.”

She pointed at the sign.

Instead of introducing herself, Henry stared at Lucy with his mouth open. He might have gone into shock.

I suppressed a grin. This wasn’t the first time Lucy made a man speechless.

“Lucy, this is Henry. He is one of Art’s associates.” I took great care to say ‘Art’ without any emphasis. “He came in to check on how we’re doing.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Henry,” Lucy said, and held out her hand.

“I … um. My name’s Henry,” he said. He stared at her hand for a full two seconds before remembering to grab it.

Lucy turned a pleasant shade of pink.

The man was all smiles and charm before she walked in. Now, he couldn’t remember his own name.

The door opened again, but it was just Jamie, back from the grocery store.

“Are you doing alright, Henry?” Jamie asked, with a smile on his face.

Henry regained some of his composure, and gave Jamie a one-armed man-hug. “Better now that you’re here.”

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