Page 58 of Working for the Mob

I blushed the same shade as my gown.

“You both look amazing,” she said, and looked Lucy up and down. “But that’s not out of the ordinary.”

I didn’t know how to respond, and luckily Henry came up with his drinks while Mrs. Jenkins joined a conversation with Miss Dunham.

“Why do you all need to have a speakeasy anyway?” I asked, and attempted a sip of whatever Henry handed me. It burned all the way down.

“What do you mean?” Jamie asked.

“The speakeasy. The slat on the door. The bouncer. Artownsthe cops. Why does he need to hide these liquor parties?”

“You’re right. Art does pay the cops,” Henry said, confirming my suspicions. “However, the Bureau of Prohibition and their agents could still come to town and cause quite a bit of trouble.”

“Aren’t you guys worried about getting caught?” I asked, but Jamie interrupted me.

“Have you had a scone, Henry?” Jamie asked, and Henry grabbed one.

“They’re apple,” Lucy said.

“Could you sell them at the café?” Henry asked between bites, and I laughed. He shot me a serious look. He wasn’t joking. “Seriously, you could sell these in the morning.”

“I think I could,” Lucy said. “I’d have to wake up earlier in the day to start on them.”

“We could get you more hours. I know the boss,” Jamie said, and laughed at his own joke. “Speaking of … Art!”

A lead weight dropped in my stomach. I didn’t imagine Art would beheretonight. I always assumed he turned into a bat when the sun went down, and flew around and ate bugs.

Jamie tugged him into the circle.

“My three favorite people,” Art said, and glanced at everyone until his eyes landed on me. “And Genevieve.”

I pursed my lips, but Henry rolled his eyes at the joke.

“How’s the party, Jamie?” Art asked.

“Forget that,” Jamie said, and waved dismissively. “Try this.”

He handed Art a scone, which he bit into. We all held our breaths as he chewed, his face betraying nothing. “It’s good.”

Henry shook his head and Jamie balked.

“Good?” Jamie challenged. “These are divine. We need to sell these at the café. Can we get Lucy in early to make these?”

Art shrugged. “Sure. Her hours will pay for themselves.”

Jamie threw an arm around Art and let out a howl of laughter in celebration. How much had he drunk tonight?

“It's settled. Monday morning you’ll be at the café at five a.m. to bake forty of these,” Jamie said. “And we’re all going to be very rich.”

At least Art willstayrich. The rest of us only work to make him money.

“What else do you think our baking prodigy can do? With the new oven, the sky's the limit,” Jamie said.

“You know, I’d love to try more pastries. Like cream puffs, croissants, or eclairs,” Lucy said.

“Try them out over the weekend. I’ll get you a key to the café and any ingredients you need,” Art said.

And he drove more hooks into our lives. Intomylife. Now when I tried to leave, I wouldn’t be able to convince Lucy to come with me.

---