Gershwin, Ira Gershwin. The Essential George Gershwin.” Then she announced, “‘The Man I Love.’” A jazzy tune started to play, something that was definitely before our time.
“No champagne?” I asked sarcastically.
Kelly turned to the divider between us and pressed a button. A console came down with two glasses hidden inside. Tucked even deeper was a really expensive-looking bottle of champagne.
“Magic.” I smiled a little.
Kelly handed me a glass and then popped the top. He poured me a glass and then took one for himself. We clinked and, without toasting, both took a sip. It slid down my throat like bubbly honey.
“Not magic, darlin’,” he said, setting his glass in the holder. “The Faustis. Gold runs through their veins.”
“I know.” I took another sip. “I know them, I mean.”
He nodded. “Macchiavello is connected.”
“Their wives have girl nights. Mari invited me.” I turned to him a little. “Rumor has it that they’re really powerful. Most of them, dangerous men.”
Kelly grinned. “Depends on the point of view.”
“What’s your point of view?”
He sighed, giving me his undivided attention. “We usually stand on the same side, the one with the same view. I have no issue with the Faustis. If I did—” he shrugged “—they’d wipe me clean, but I’d go down fighting.”
“Is Hell’s Kitchen really that important to you?”
“I’m willing to die for it,” he said and turned his face forward.
The things worth a man’s soul—faith, rights, a woman’s love, that sort of thing—seemed to say a lot about that man. I wasn’t sure what that said about Cash Kelly yet. Was he willing to die for the power to rule it? Or for the money? For both? Or for a cause more worthy?
We said no more as the car pulled in front of Macchiavello’s. Mari’s fiancé owned it, and it was one of the swankiest restaurants in New York. I’d told her that we were going, and she was excited, going on and on about some pasta dish to try. She said after their wedding in Italy, we’d meet up there for lunch.
The driver opened Kelly’s door first. Kelly stepped out, fixing his suit and tie, and then made his way to my side. My door opened, and his hand was waiting for mine. I took it, the slit in my dress riding high as I put my heel to the street. A stream of expensive cars waited their turns to pull up in front of the restaurant. People on the sidewalk stopped and pointed at a few of them. Ours included.
The restaurant was as expected. Romantic.
Candlelight made the entire place glow, there were roses on every table, a jazz band played in the bar section, and it smelled beyond amazing.
Kelly handed the man at the door a card, and we were led to a private room. It was so secluded that it seemed like only the two of us existed in the world. The food? Like nothing I’d ever tasted before.
Before I was truly ready, we left for the event. It was being held in a museum, and again, we were lined up with another stream of expensive cars. As we waited our turn, and guests stepped out, I started to recognize faces. Governor. Mayor. Union leaders—one I recognized from our wedding “reception,” the head of the longshoremen’s union. The kind of people included in little books.
Rocco Fausti and his wife, Rosaria, stepped out next.
Then us.
As soon as we were inside, Kelly started shaking hands and introducing me. The party was a menagerie of high-powered people, but Kelly kept to the local politicians. I knew how charming he could be, and he was using the power on everyone he spoke to. He wasn’t ass kissing, though. He was one of those men who oozed appeal without forcing it.
Done with the scene, and not wanting to make an effort to talk to Rosaria, I slipped away from Kelly’s conversation and headed toward the bar. I ordered a glass of whiskey neat, and then turned to watch the woman singing by the piano.
A man strode up next to me, ordered his whiskey straight up, and then turned to stand just like I was. “She’s good,” he said, taking a sip. His eyes were ready to flirt, even if his mouth never said a suggestive word.
“She is.” I kept my eyes forward, but I’d already gotten a good look at him. He was probably around Kelly’s age, but other than that, there was nothing else to compare. Kelly's scent was all around me, even though