Shamrocks and Secrets Page 5

  I watched in amazement when their eyes then landed on Patrick and my hand in his. It was as if the bar caught on fire as barstools began to empty. Men were tripping over themselves, trying to grab their beers and make their way to the back of the room.

  Patrick led me over to the center of the bar and pulled out a chair for me. He snapped his fingers and a very handsome man appeared behind the bar.

  Patrick instructed him to give me anything I wanted, and then he leaned down and kissed my forehead.

  "I'll try not to be too long." And with that he joined a tableful of men in black suits behind us. I looked around and noticed a man in a black suit on each side of Allyson and myself.

  "He's never been subtle a day in his life," Allyson chuckled while taking a sip of her martini.

  Then it hit me, this was all a set-up. He had brought me here so that Allyson could talk to me. He knew I had dealt with her for several months, and considered her to be a friend.

  “All right, girl, what's this about?"

  I was able to see Patrick's table clearly reflected in the mirrors that hung behind the bar. He wasn't looking at me, but I could see him talking to the men at the table.

  "He told me you showed up at Whiskers alone the other night. I have to hand it to you, Christi, you've got balls."

  I took a drink of my martini and then crossed my legs in her direction.

  "I wouldn't necessarily say that. In hindsight, it was really stupid and I could've been hurt."

  "He'd never let that happen, you know?” I shook my head.

  “He won’t always be around to protect me."

  “Thats not true, Christi."

  "Really?" My tone was condescending.

  “Patrick always has an eye on you."

  I looked into the mirror again and saw that Patrick was still talking with the men at the table.

  "No, he doesn't, he's having a conversation over there, see, look in the mirror for yourself."

  Allyson smiled and then shook her head, "The bartender, Christi. He hasn't been more than a few feet from us since Patrick gave him his instructions."

  I hadn't noticed it until now, but she was right.

  “I’ll bet you also don't see the car that follows you around all day?"

  “What car?” I questioned.

  "My point exactly."

  Allyson and I sat in silence for a few minutes. As I continued to sip my drink, I took more notice of the room. When I first arrived, there were mostly men that you would find in any corner bar getting a drink after work. Now in addition to them, there were ladies dressed to the nines, huddled around tables sipping colorful drinks. There were more suits than I had ever seen. A scene from Goodfellas came to mind where the lead character came into the room and instantly a new table was placed near the stage for his date and himself.

  "You do know who and what Patrick does, don't you?"

  "It didn't take me long to figure it out, although my sister disagreed."

  Shannon and I had barely spoken two words since that conversation. She felt I was wrong for wanting nothing to do with Patrick. Maybe Dillion wasn't as good of a guy as she deserved after all.

  "He's a very powerful man, Chris."

  I took another drink and nodded my head, "I thought so."

  Allyson then turned to me and placed her hand on my knee. I looked first to her hand, and then back to her eyes. "He may be the most powerful man in this city, but right now, you have more power than he does."

  I blinked at her and then tipped my head to the side. "How do you figure?"

  "He's willing to do pretty much anything to have you by his side."

  And just as quickly as she got my attention, she lost it.

  "I can't give a man like him what he needs," I stated as I turned my body back to the bar.

  "Just what do you think a man like Patrick would need?"

  I began to run my finger around the rim of my glass. "Allyson, I've seen Casino and The Godfather, and I've watched enough episodes of the Sopranos to know that the women who are beside the powerful men are expected to ignore certain things."

  "Please enlighten me, what kinds of things?" Allyson questioned, defensiveness in her voice. “Because I’m pretty sure that I’m married to one of his inner circle and not much happens that I don't know about.”

  I turned my body back toward hers, "Okay, for instance, the wives are expected to turn their heads so that the men can have the goomah, I can't do that. I can't just sit back and let him get his dick sucked under the dinner table just because he carries a gun. I'm just not built like that."

  "Let me interrupt you on one thing; goomah is Italian, Patrick is full-blooded Irish, so it would be mot. Furthermore, his Ma would kill him if he tried that. Italians and the Irish are different in more ways than just nationality. The whole girl on the side thing is frowned upon; he would lose respect from his men."

  "Why me though? Why not one of the trashy bleached blondes that are hanging off of him nearly every time I see him? They'd be better suited for him than me, especially that one with the huge boobs."

  "Who, Harley?" Allyson made a look of disgust.

  “Yes, he did call her Harley. Why not her?"

  Allyson turned back to the bar and took another drink from her glass, before she motioned to the bartender for another.

  "Miss O’Rourke, can I get you another?"

  “No thank you, I'm fine for now."

  “First,” Allyson began when the bartender walked away. “Harley isn't Irish, she's actually Italian. However, it's more than that; she didn't come by that name by accident."

  "What, does she enjoy that brand of motorcycle?"

  "No, she got that name because she can quite quickly suck-start a Harley."

  I began to choke on my drink and I noticed that several men in the room turned their attention to me, just as the bartender came over and made sure I was all right.

  I quickly recovered and asked for a glass of water. Once I regained my composure, I thanked the bartender who informed me his name was Devin.

  "So, you're saying it's important for Patrick to be with an Irish woman?"

  "It's non-negotiable, actually. He can choose whom, but they have to be of full Irish descent. Patrick must produce full-blooded Irish heirs."

  "So why not just make a trip back to Ireland, scope out a girl, and then take her to the altar?"

  "That would be ideal, right? As far back as anyone can recall, though, the Malloy's have made arrangements for marriages between other influential Irish families. However, when Thomas made the arrangement with the McCreary's for Patrick, it was before Mr. and Mrs. McCreary had eight boys."

  I had to laugh, as that would make it difficult for an heir to happen.

  "Anyway, it just so happened that Thomas touched base with an old friend, your father, and he made him an offer."

  My father's words came back, ‘He said he might need a favor someday.’ "Please don't tell me..."

  "Oh, no, Christi your father told Thomas that Patrick would have to earn your hand if he really wanted it. You just made it easier for him to approach you by going to Whiskers."

  I looked again at Patrick in the mirror. This time he looked directly at me and winked.

  "Listen, Christi, putting aside what he does for just a moment, at the end of the day he's a really good guy."

  I already knew he was a good guy, the reason I was sitting at this bar was because he was a good guy.

  "Christi, do you ever wonder why his men avoid eye contact with you? Or why Harley tries so hard to stay by his side?" I just shook my head. "It's because he commands so much respect and carries so much power." Allyson leaned into me again as she lowered her voice, "Now that you know all that, tell me you don't enjoy this new power you have over him, hmm?"

  I didn't want to have this so-called power over him. I had only wanted to say thank you, not start a war.

  "Yes, but Allyson, arranged marriages, guns, drugs..."

  "Hold on, Chris
ti, the arranged marriage isn't like it was back in the day. Ryan and I were an arranged marriage. We were introduced once we were sixteen and we had the choice of whether or not to marry. Same with Paige and Caleb, it's to strengthen the families."

  "Wait...Paige is...?"

  "Yep."

  "Oh, my, Caleb talks so highly of her."

  "That's because he's head over heels in love with her. Caleb and Amex are soul mates, its perfect."

  "Amex?" I looked at her confused.

  "Oh yes, you haven't been schooled in Patrick's nicknames. Well, you already know that you're Legs."

  "Yes, I'm well aware, and I can't say that I take that as a compliment, more like a bad porn name."

  "I knew I loved you for a reason,” Allyson laughed as she patted my leg. “Paige is Amex because she can burn through a credit limit like no one's business. Ryan is Muscles because, well, he has a lot of them, and I'm..."

  "Wait, let me guess." Allyson was a beautiful woman, her dark brown hair and hazel eyes would stop traffic, she was also very well-endowed. "My guess is Stacks, due to..."

  "My boobs? Nope, its Ammo. I can take apart and put back together any gun you place in front of me in less than fifteen seconds.” She spoke with pride and I suspected she had a gun somewhere on her person.

  I felt so horrible for saying that to her now. "Allyson, I'm so sorry..."

  "Nope, you don't get to apologize with words, the Malloy's are a family of actions and I want to show you something."

  Allyson slid her drink away from her and grabbed her clutch. She stood fluidly from her stool. Wrapping her arm around me, she leaned over and whispered, “Are you aware that sitting at that table are some pretty heavy hitters in Patrick's world?” I shook my head. “Any man in this room would rather eat his own tongue than interrupt that conversation, yet if you were to walk over there right now, they would all Miss O’Rourke you to death. And Patrick, he would stop what he's doing to make any request you had happen right then and there. Like it or not, by kissing your forehead, he told the entire room how important you are to him. Want to see if I'm right?"

  I rolled my eyes at her, "I need the ladies room."

  Since talking with Allyson, I was now more aware of the things happening around me. I watched as people who were standing in our way suddenly moved without being asked. When we reached the ladies room, there was a line of about six women waiting. Once we entered the hall, all six moved to allow us to move to the front of the line. Allyson opened the door and I followed her. Standing beside the sink, however, was the girl who had been with Kevin that night in the jazz bar. She didn't notice Allyson or I enter the room as she leaned over the counter and snorted some white powder into her nose.

  I watched in horror as she passed the rolled-up bill to the girl standing beside her, Harley. Knowing what they were doing brought the reasons behind Colleen’s death to the forefront of my mind. I turned on my heels as fast as I could and headed back into the bar. I could not and would not tolerate anything to do with illegal drug use. I practically sprinted back to the barstool that I had been sitting on and turned the corner to tell Patrick I needed to leave.

  Allyson's words about the members at the table were long forgotten as my desire to get as far away from those girls as possible won out. My steps never slowed as I came to an abrupt stop at the table. I had no idea what was being said, and I didn't care.

  "I'm sorry for interrupting, gentlemen," I turned to Patrick. "Patrick, I have had a lovely time and thank you so much for dinner, but I have to go."

  I didn't wait for him to respond as I turned and ran for the door. I had no idea how Patrick got to the door of the bar so quickly, but he managed to open it for me. The limo driver was standing beside the car with the door open and waiting. I quickly slid inside and closed my eyes, resting my head against the back of the seat.

  Patrick's phone rang and I heard him answer it, but didn't process what he was saying.

  I opened my eyes and was able to let out the breath I had been holding. I noticed Patrick was in the middle of making another call. I heard the muffled noise as they picked up, but I couldn't hear their side of the conversation on the other end.

  "A cheadaítear Michelle imo mbarra."

  I was sure he was trying to hide the conversation from me by speaking in Gaelic, but I had spend enough summers with my grandmother to be fluent. Besides you couldn’t live in the section of Chicago that I did and not pick it up. The girl from the Jazz bar was named Michelle, he was upset that she was allowed into the bar...his bar apparently.

  "Bhí sí ag déanamh buille arís le Harley."

  Now he was upset because the trashy blonde, Harley, was doing it with her. "Aimsigh agus a dhéanamh air seo a ghlanadh suas."

  I should have known Kevin was still under his employ as he gave instructions to whom ever he was talking about to have him clean up the situation. Would he have Michelle killed? I shivered as I thought about it.

  Tá mé ag cur léi go dtí mo theach"

  His last sentence made me want to jump from this moving car since he told them he was taking me to his house.

  He closed his phone and remained silent as he looked out the window. He reached over and gently took my hand in his.

  "You do know I'm fluent in Gaelic, right?"

  He chuckled as he turned his face back to me. "Yes."

  “Then why didn't you just speak English on the phone?” I asked as if it was the dumbest thing I had ever heard.

  “Because, the person I was speaking to doesn't speak English”

  Well,...foot meet mouth.

  When the driver finally stopped in the underground garage, Patrick didn't let my hand go while he helped me out of the car. Once in the elevator, he slid a gold card into a slot at the top of the number panel. The ride was quick and the door opened to what I assumed was his condo. The floors were marble and the walls were painted a neutral shade of cream. The chandelier that hung from the ceiling was crystal and absolutely beautiful. The room we were currently standing in appeared to be a foyer. I saw that directly in front of us was a long hall that led to a wall of windows. I didn't wait for an invitation as I walked toward them to look out onto the city.

  My eye caught the Ferris wheel at Navy Pier and it held my attention. This had been an interesting night. It definitely wasn't what I had planned it to be, although that seemed to be the norm when it came to Patrick. I watched as the lights on the wheel went round and round, like the events of the last few days. I no longer felt that I could trust my gut when it came to the people around me.

  "Come sit and talk with me."

  I turned and saw Patrick had two glasses of wine sitting on the coffee table. He was keeping his word at being a gentleman and was waiting for me to sit.

  I slowly walked around the table and took my seat beside him.

  "I'm so sorry about the bathroom, Christi; she wasn't supposed to be there."

  "It's not your fault, Patrick. She doesn't realize that she's throwing her life away."

  "No, she knows it; she just doesn't care right now. I've tried to get her to get help, but she isn't ready. Listen, I know Allyson had a talk with you tonight..."

  "That was a set up, wasn't it?"

  "My Ma thought it would sound better coming from a woman, one that you already trusted."

  "I understand why you did it," I sighed.

  “Then you're not upset with me?"

  I chuckled as I turned to him. "No, I'm not mad at you," I looked directly at him as I spoke, "But I can't be what you need me to be, Patrick" I leaned forward and took the wine glass off the table, taking a large drink before continuing. "I refuse to be an accessory for you to wear when you feel like it. I refuse to turn a blind eye to any extracurricular activities you feel the need to have."

  Patrick leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. "Who said that's what I want or need?"

  "Please, a man in your position has a role to portray."

  "So you're saying
that every successful businessman is a man-whore?"

  "You know what I mean."

  "Clearly I don't, Christi. If I wanted a trampy, uneducated sex toy, I would have Harley in here. What I want is a highly intelligent, beautiful lady."

  "Why do you keep her around then?"

  "Well, I assume you know why I call her Harley?"

  "Yes, Allyson told me several nicknames you have for people," I giggled as I remembered the conversation.

  "Well, even though she has her mouth open most of the time, she always has her ears open, too. Men seem to want to tell a woman who is currently on her knees all kinds of interesting things. She just feels the need to tell them to me."

  "So, you and she have never...?"

  “Me? Fuck Harley? Not in this lifetime.” His tone was laced with disgust.

  "Good to know."

  The conversation I'd had with Allyson raced through my head. Patrick had been more than generous to my family. Could I really have a relationship with him?

  "Come on, Christi, what do you say? Give us a chance. You never know what might happen."

  Yeah, it was that last part that had me worried.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Early the next morning, I phoned my father and asked that he meet me for breakfast at the diner near my house. After last night, I was definitely more aware of my surroundings and I noticed the black sedan was nowhere in sight.

  I parked my car and made my way inside the diner. When we were little girls, dad would bring us here all the time and buy us pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream. Although I had changed to coffee and an omelet, the diner was still the same.

  My father was already seated with a cup of coffee raised to his lips when I sat down across from him.

  "Morning, Daddy."

  "Good morning, Christi." His face broke into a wide smile.

  Doris, the same waitress that had served me those pancakes all those years ago, stood to my left, pouring my first of many cups of coffee.