Mick Sinatra: For Once In My Life (13 page)

Tonk Maggio
was still holding on.
 
His face was raw
meat as his skin had separated and bones were showing.
 
He was on the doorstep of death.
 
And that was when Mick stopped.
 
And sat there.
 
And watched Tonk Maggio slowly show some
signs, flicker, and then fade away.

Mick stood
up.
 
His men stared at him with terror in
their hearts.
 
One of them, Rossi, handed
Mick a handkerchief.
 
He wiped his hands
as he stared down at Tonk.
 
“That’s what
happens to a fucker,” he said to them, “when they cross me.”
 
He looked at his men, as if he wanted Tonk’s
horrible death to be a warning to them.
 
Then he handed the handkerchief back to Rossi, walked to his limo, and
Deuce let him in.

When he got
inside, and the door slammed shut, he leaned back, gripping the armrest.
 
He was not a man who hated this part of his
life, because he knew it was a necessary part of his life.
 
He’d been in it too long to hate it.
 
What he hated were the people who thought
they could get away with backstabbing him and face no retribution.
 
What he hated were the snitches and the
plants and the flimflammers trying to bring down his organization.
 
That was what he hated.
 
That was what he was going to stomp in the
ground every time it rose up.
 
Mick Sinatra
might have been an upstanding businessman.
 
But Mick the Tick was a thug.
 
That was why he was still standing today.
 
He would have been dead if he wasn’t as tough
as he was.
 
And he made no apologies for
it.

But as Deuce
pulled off, leaving his men behind to clean up his mess, his cell phone
rang.
 
When he pulled it out and saw that
it was Rosalind calling, his entire train of thought ceased.
 
And he smiled.
 
Rosalind
.
 
He was about to answer her call.
 
She was undoubtedly concerned about him.

But just as
he was about to answer, just as he was about to reassure her that he was just
fine, he thought, not about himself for once in his life, but about her.
 
Because he knew he was not just fine.
 
He looked at his hands, and what his hands
just did to a man.
 
He was not just
fine.
 
Because he knew, if they continued
down this road, it was going to lead to more, not less of a connection.
 
And he was going to plunge her, not only in
his world of legitimate high finance, but in his world of trash barrel
thuggery.
 
He was going to change her
life forever.
 
She was going to rue the
day she ever laid eyes on him.
 
And that
look of love and admiration will turn into horror and disappointment, the same
look his father gave to him, and his mother gave to him, and the world gave to
him.
 
And coming from Rosalind?
 
That could be the death of him.

He didn’t
answer her call.
 

He couldn’t.

He let it
ring.

The next
day, Roz was at the acting studio going over line sets with a handful of her
students.
 
She wanted to try Mick’s cell
phone again, because she was still worried about him, but one of her students,
a method actor who was certain he could teach her a thing or two, was getting
on her last nerve.

“I cannot do
it,” he said, in the middle of rehearsing a line.

“Really,
Zack?” Roz responded.
 
“We’re still on
page one and you have another issue?”

“Is it my
fault these people don’t know what they’re doing?
 
No,” he added, answering his own question.

His reading
partner, Pam, rolled her eyes.

“Roll your
eyes all you please,” Zack responded.
 
“This is all wrong.”

“What is it
your business?” Pam asked.
 
“Nobody’s
asking you to marry the script.
 
Just
read the freaking line for crying out loud!”

“What’s the
problem now?” Roz asked Zack, maintaining her cool.
 
She had the play in her hands as well.

“This line
is the problem,” Zack said.
 
“I am sorry,
but it is.”

“Which
line?”

Zack counted
them.
 
“Fourteen.”

Roz moved
her finger down to the fourteenth line of the script.
 
She read it, and looked back up at him.
 
“I don’t see what you’re talking about.
 
It’s perfectly fine.”

“That line
is perfectly wrong,” Zack said.
 
“It
reads, ‘she is been.’
 
How can they
expect me to say
she is been
?”

Roz looked
again.
 
And then read the dialogue
aloud.
 
“She’s been there before.”
 
She looked at Zack.
 
And frowned.
 
“What wrong with that?
 
What are
you talking about?”

Zack was
happy to correct her.
 
“
She’s
, for your information, Miss
Teacher, and I use that term advisedly, means
she is
.”

Pam shook
her head.
 
She couldn’t believe it.

Roz couldn’t
either.
 
“
She’s
means
she is
.
 
But it also means
she has
.
 
As in
she has been
.
 
As in
she’s
been there before
.
 
Come on now,
Zack.
 
Work with me, brother.
 
You’re an actor.
 
You know words have more than one meaning.
 
Just read what it says.
 
You’re killing me here!”

“He’s
killing all of us here,” Pam echoed, and the rest of the troupe applauded.

But Zack
would not let up.
 
The next line was a
problem for him too, and the line after that.
 
Then the stage direction was an issue.
 
Then the fact that they were not being trained as method actors.
 
He felt they should all go out and work as
janitors and maids in order to play their assigned roles more effectively. Or,
as he called it, with more
honest
integrity
.
 
Roz was on the verge of
telling him what he could do with his
honest
integrity
, but she held her peace.
 
He was disruptive, but he paid just as all the others had paid. He had a
right to complain.

And they
managed to get through it.
 
Soon he was
in the groove too, and the line sets were actually being completed.
 
But Roz was only barely there.
 
Because Mick was still on her mind.
 
Because Mick left her bed late last night
promising to return.
 
But now, in the
light of day, he wasn’t even returning her phone calls.
 
She was nobody’s chump.
 
She was not the kind of woman who chased
after men.
 
But she couldn’t shake the
feeling that something was wrong.
 
She
was worried about Mick.

After work
when her last student (Zack) asked his final question and she was free to
leave, she couldn’t see herself going back to that apartment and that bed that
still held his scent.
 
She, instead, took
the Subway to Broadway.
 
Barry Acker’s
play was in rehearsals now and she knew the stage manager.
 
He let her in, but it would be nearly half an
hour before Barry could break away and talk to her.

But when
they talked, she quickly realized that he knew nothing either.

“So he
hasn’t phoned you at all?” she asked.

“Not at
all,” Barry admitted.
 
“But he
wouldn’t.
 
That’s not his style.
 
The only time I get to see him when he’s in
town is if I track him down myself.
 
If I
don’t run him down, he’ll be in and out of here without so much as a
hello.
 
That’s Mick.”

But that
still didn’t alleviate Roz’s concern.
 
She wanted to know that he was okay.
 
She couldn’t dismiss that need to know.

Barry saw
the concern in her eyes, and he felt for her.
 
Although Mick didn’t hold him in any great esteem, he wasn’t sure if he
knew how, he had a heart for Mick.
 
He
loved him like a son.
 
“You’re a good,
normal girl, Roz.
 
And I know you don’t
want to hear this, but find yourself a good, normal guy.
 
Mick hits and run.
 
He always has and always will.
 
He’s rough around the edges.
 
That’s his style.”

But Roz
wasn’t ready to believe he could be that callous.
 
Not the man who pulled her into his arms to
shield her from harm.
 
Not the man who
rode the Subway with her.
 
Not the man
who made love to her the way he made love.
 
But Barry wouldn’t understand.
 
“Could you phone him?
 
Maybe he’ll
answer your call.
 
I just want to make
sure he’s okay.”

But Barry
declined.
 
“I can’t do that,” he
said.
 
“I’m still Mick’s friend because I
give him his space.
 
As soon as I start
intruding onto that space, he’ll cut me off.
 
I like him in my life rather than out of it.
 
I can’t do it.”

Roz didn’t
want to hear it, but she couldn’t make him do what he didn’t want to do.
 
So she said her goodbyes and headed down the
aisle toward the exit door.

Barry
watched her walk away.
 
And he had the
oddest feeling.
 
He had a strange feeling
that the best woman in this world for Mick was walking away.
 
He hesitated still, but then he gave in.
 
“Roz!” he called after her.

Roz turned,
and saw Barry walking up to her.
 
“I
won’t call him, or get in his business that way.
 
He’ll never forgive me if I do.
 
But it’s public knowledge he’s staying at the
Carson.
 
If he’s still in town, that’s
where he’ll be.”

Roz
smiled.
 
Thanked Barry.
 
And headed for the Carson.

The
Carson-Benning, one of the richest hotels in the city, wasn’t exactly the kind
of opulent grandeur Roz was used to, but she entered the palace doors
anyway.
 
She was determined to make sure
Mick was okay.
 
She knew it was
risky.
 
She knew he could be avoiding her
like the plague because he didn’t want to have anything more to do with
her.
 
Guys charmed their way into ladies’
beds all the time, only to dump them like bad habits as soon as they zipped
back up their pants.
 
Mick could be that
guy.
 
He could be that heartless.
 
But her instincts were betting against
it.
 
She entered the massive hotel, so
far outside of her comfort zone, on instinct alone.

But as Roz
made her way to the front desk, Mick’s limousine pulled up outside.
 
Deuce hurried from behind the wheel, and
stood at the back passenger door, but Mick remained inside. His head was leaned
back.
 
His eyes were closed.
 
He’d been in meetings all day, mostly
concerning problems with security breaches, and he had a business dinner to
attend in a couple hours concerning his offshore investments.
 
His schedule was packed solid.
 
But he was unsettled.
 
Because with so many issues to think about,
all he was thinking about was Roz.

During the
course of the day, he pulled out his cell phone more times than he would ever
admit, ready to answer her call or phone her himself.
 
But he didn’t do it.
 
Not for his sake.
 
He knew he would do himself the greatest
favor in the world by involving her in his life.
 
But what would it do for her?
 
She would go from being an uncomplicated
woman in beautiful obscurity to becoming the woman of one of the most
complicated men in America.
 
His load
would become her load.
 
His enemies would
become her enemies.
 
His tortured heart
would become hers.

He couldn’t
do that to her.

He finally
opened his eyes and got out of his limousine.
 
Fairytales came true, they did for Reno Gabrini after all, but Reno’s
blues were not like his.
 
He was a bad
man.
 
Reno, deep down, had a heart of
gold and would give a scumbag a break.
 
Mick didn’t believe in giving breaks.
 
He believed in taking breaks.
 
He
learned long ago that no fairytales were coming true for a man like him.

But even
though fairytales weren’t going to come true for Mick, they sometimes dropped
by.
 
That was the feeling he felt when he
stepped out of his limousine and saw Rosalind coming out of the hotel.
 
He froze where he stood.

His sudden
stop was so pronounced and unexpected that Deuce looked to see what his boss
was seeing.
 
When he saw Roz standing
there, staring at Mick as if she was angry and pleased all at once, Deuce
couldn’t help but smile.
 
That’s how you do it, young lady
, he
thought.
 
He believed Mick Sinatra was
hers for the taking, but she had to be smart enough to understand it.
 
She was, he thought happily.
 
She was.

Mick lost
his glide as he walked across the sidewalk toward her.
 
He couldn’t pretend to be cool.
 
The area was busy, with cars picking up and
dropping off and people coming and going, but all he saw was Roz.
 
He tried to plaster on his best business
smile and play it off, but he couldn’t pull it off.
 
Seeing her again was felt too deeply.

She wore a
red skirt and a red and white blouse.
 
Red was one of his least favorite colors, given his line of work.
 
But it looked beautiful on her.
 
“Business at the Carson?” he asked her.

“No,” she
said plainly.

He
appreciated her honesty.

“I wanted to
make sure you were okay.”

Mick was
touched.
 
He was touched in a way that
would stun her.
 
She didn’t come to cuss
him out for leaving her.
 
She didn’t come
to sass him for failing to keep his promise.
 
She came to make sure he was all right.
 
She came for him.
 
Emotion swelled
within him like a rushing tide.
 
“Thank
you,” he said.

The Doorman,
after opening the door for another VIP, looked over and saw Roz with Mick.
 
He hurried over, his hands clasped.
 
“Are you alright, sir?” he asked Mick,
glancing at Roz.
 
“Is this person
bothering you?”

Mick gave that
man a look so cold even Roz felt its chill.
 
He didn’t have to say a word.
 
His
look said it all.

The Doorman,
mortified that he had totally misread the situation, quickly moved away from
them.
 
Roz looked at Mick and
smiled.
 
And just like that, that feeling
of safety she felt around him returned.
 
No man had ever made her feel so secure.
 
But the fact remained: he was okay, and he didn’t get in touch.
 
“I won’t keep you,” she said.
 
“I’m glad you’re okay.
 
I’ll let you get on with it.
 
Have a nice day.”