The Mobster And The Cowboy (A Cowboy Romance) (2 page)

The next two
weeks, Melanie settled in. She didn’t go out except for some groceries, upon which, on her way out the first time, she saw the old man next door and asked if she could get him anything. He gave her a little list.

Every time she did a grocery run,
she would stop by to ask if he needed anything. They quickly became friendly. She felt sorry for him because she never saw anyone over there. Sometimes she would sit on his porch and talk with him, usually stuff about the weather and Wimberley.

He liked to talk about rodeos
too.

She found out he was a
bareback bronc rider in his heyday. He even showed her some belt buckles he was proud of winning. He told her a story for each one. He showed her some photos of him on a bucking bronc. She never tired of listening to his stories.

She had always managed to stay vague on her life. Whenever he would ask, she would somehow steer the conversation back to him and rodeos.

He also gave her a little tip on where to shop for woman’s attire.
It seemed that his granddaughter, Geli, owned Geli’s Western Wear Boutique. A place Melanie found herself liking. She even struck up a conversation with Geli the first time she entered the store. She gave Geli her cell phone number for when a pair of boots she ordered would come in.

She left there with
a cute little black bikini and a new Baily’s Stampede, black cowboy hat among other things that day. The cowboy hat would be good to tip down and hide her face if need be.

On another visit there, Melanie was looking through racks of T-shirts and noticed a guy by the register talking to Geli and laughing. Melanie eyed him a couple of times. He was quite striking.

At one point
, Melanie looked to him and assessed that he was tall and lean and that tight black Harley Davidson T-shirt showed off thick muscles covering his chest and arms. He had an elbow on the counter and his hand was holding up his head. He had on a cream colored, straw cowboy hat so she didn’t see his hair, but he had a thin, brown, neatly trimmed chin strap and mustache so she knew he had brown hair. His eyes, she couldn’t be too sure because she didn’t want to stare, but thought they were a light color. Hazel came to mind.

She smiled nervously because she got caught staring at him and quickly averted her eyes.
She thought she saw him smile back at her, but wasn’t too sure.

She was done shopping but didn’t want to get near the register. She waited for him to leave by pretending to shop around. She always had this feeling that Michael sent out scouts looking for her so she tried to stay low key and draw no attention to herself. She laughed self consciously;
he probably moved on and is living with the redhead by now
, she thought. But there was something in the way he yelled, just when the elevator doors closed, ‘It ain’t over till I say it’s over’, that bothered her.

Melanie tried to keep busy with work. She had a lucrative career in editing and was beginning to expand into publishing before she left Michael. He wanted her to give up work all together, but she refused and was adamant about it. He dropped it.

“I’m sorry to put you through this, Ally.” Melanie was apologizing for the hundredth time to her sister over the phone. They talked every couple of days.

Michael kept calling Ally asking where she was but Ally wouldn’t give up information.
So far, he hadn’t been too pushy.

“Maybe
I should just come home and face him.” There was a pause as Ally spoke. “Be strong, yeah, sounds easier said than done.” Another pause. “Yeah, it seems nice here, but to tell you the truth, I’m going a little stir crazy. There’s a nice old man next door I became friendly with. He’s sweet to talk to…….Okay, I’ll keep in touch. I love you too, bye.” Ally had to get back to work.

J
ust to get out, one morning, Melanie took out a manuscript she was editing, from her computer bag and headed to the diner, about ten minutes down the road by car, for some breakfast. Thank God, she had her computer with her so she could keep working.

She sat at a small booth, and across from her sat two cowboys who kept eyeing her and trying to strike up a conversation with her while they were eating their breakfast.

“That sounds good
,” one of them, the one wearing a white cowboy hat, who locked eyes with her, said to her, after she ordered a coffee and pancakes with bananas and whipped cream.

She smiled
politely at him, and then averted her eyes to her purse to pull out the manuscript.

She noted they were kind of
cute, a little old for her, but kind of cute, nonetheless. Maybe it was the cowboy hats or something. That’s something you didn’t see every day in Brooklyn, New York, where she was born and raised. Still, she didn’t want to strike up a conversation with them.

“You have the most incredible blue eyes
,” the other cowboy, who was wearing a chocolate brown hat, said to her, making it hard for her not to seem rude. She looked his way.

“Thank you.”
Again, she averted her eyes.

T
he cowboy in the white hat swung his legs around and stared at her while speaking to his friend. “She sure is pretty, Marco.”

Melanie began to get a little nervous.

“Yep,” Marco said as he too, stared at her.

Marco
got up, about to go sit in the seat opposite her.

Melanie shrunk back in her seat and felt
trapped.

“Hey
, darlin’, sorry I’m late,” someone said in a slow southern drawl.

Melanie looked
up and saw the guy who was at the counter of Geli’s the other day sit down in the spot that Marco was going for. Melanie looked from him then to Marco and smiled.

“That’s ok
ay.” She returned her gaze back to the man that sat down; relieved he saved her from Marco and his buddy, because they sat back in their seats and went back to eating their meal.

The waitress came back with a cup of coffee for Melanie.

“Hi, Logan. Your usual, sugar?” she asked him with a smile.

Logan
looked to Melanie for some kind of acknowledgement for him to stay there and join her. Melanie nodded her head slightly as her lips curled up a little.

“Yeah
, Flo, thanks.”

“No problem, I’ll be right back
.” And she walked back to the kitchen.

When Logan walked into the diner, she was the first thing he noticed. When he first saw her in Geli’s boutique, her hair was up in a pony tail. Now it was down and it was a mane of shiny, loose, black curls, framing her face and cascading down her back. Her pink lips were full and they looked so sexy and kissable.

He
had stood by the cash register watching her while making small talk with Anya, the cashier.
She’s pretty,
he thought to himself, while studying her big, beautiful blue eyes.

She didn’t notice him
, but he noticed she was growing uncomfortable with the two guys across from her. When one began to make a move toward her, he said to Anya, “Later.” and walked up to her. He was relieved she allowed him to run interference for her.

He and Melanie locked eyes. Hazel, she was right with the eye color. They were nice too, in fact, upon studying him further, she remarked to herself how handsome he was. He had a square jaw, long eyelashes and a straight nose and when he smiled, he had straight white teeth, and you could see a dimple on each cheek which looked sexy. In fact the only imperfection was the scar over his right eye, which she didn’t even deem imperfect. It seemed to suit him. It made him look that much more tough and rugged. She wondered how he got it.

Flo came ba
ck with their meals and they sat in silence while eating. Melanie thought it would be best if they talked because the two cowboys kept eyeing them.

“How’s Geli?”

“Good, she’s at the store. How long are you shopping there?”

“
I actually just started. When you saw me it was my second time there. I really love her clothes.”

“Yeah, she has a flair for fashion.”

The two cowboys sitting across from them got up and left.

Melanie leaned back and breathe
d a sigh of relief.

“Th
ank you,” she said to him.

“The name’s Logan.
What’s yours?”

She just looked at him
, contemplating if she should give him a fake name or not.

“
You from around here?” he asked after a while, when she didn’t offer her name.

“I have to go
,” was all she said as she gathered her purse and manuscript. Walking away, she said, “Thanks again.”

She went to the cashier and waved over her server.
She paid the bill for him and herself and left a nice tip.

All Logan could do was watch.
She looked nervous. He shrugged and went back to eating his eggs.

****

“You know why I called you here, eh?” Vito Sacrapante asked Michael as he twirled the linguini on his fork with his
wrinkled, manicured hand.

Michael nodded his head even though he didn’t have a clue, but when the acting boss of the family sends for you, you don’t ask questions.

Michael certainly knew of Vito, but never met him before. He was excited to be summoned to dinner with him. It usually meant respect.

Michael didn’t even know that Vito knew of him even though Michael knew he was one of Vito’s top earners.

They
had been eating dinner in Carmine’s restaurant. Michael, Vito, Vito’s body guard, Bobby Batillo, and Jacamo, Crazy Jack, DePalma, Vito’s right hand. Then you had the four burly guys, trying but failing to blend in around the table, protecting the boss.

“Good, good,” Vito repeated and nodded his head.

Michael wondered if he talked like he had cotton in his mouth all the time or he was doing the Marlon Brando routine on him.

“We like you, kid. I hear a lot of good things about you. I don’t usually meet with a picciotto but everyone tells me you’re a boy wonder. You bring in the cash.” Vito said.

A
fter chewing some pasta, then washing it down with red wine he added, “We need more.”

Michael’s eyes shot up from his plate of veal parmesan.
I’ll show you picciotto, you greedy old fucker
. He gave more than enough. Michael knew that in order to make a name for himself, he needed to show them the money. He lied, cheated, stole and shook down in order to produce.

He
mostly dabbled in auto theft, a little shaking down of small businesses in the neighborhood and low level drug dealing. But he hit pay dirt when he started to organize truck hijackings and selling all those designer goods. He worked hard at his job. Now the motherfucker wanted more. He was outraged.

“Yes
, sir, absolutely. I understand.”

Vito snapped his fingers and one of the burly men who were protecting them stepped up to his side.

“This here’s Benny. We call him ‘The Moocher’. He’s yours to command and kid...,” he paused as Michael nodded, thinking that ‘The Moocher’ was nothing more than a plant. “....you bring in the money; you’ll run your own crew some day. You understand me?”

“Yes
, sir,” he said as he continued to nod his head. That was what Michael strived for, moving up in the family.
I don’t just want my own crew, I won’t stop till I have your job, you piece of shit,
he thought to himself.

“Good, good.”
Vito raised his wine glass and waited. The other three men finally realized what he was doing and raised their glasses.

“
Salude,” Vito said and they clinked glasses and drank.

In the passenger seat of his BMW 7 series, Michael was in a foul mood and Vinnie, his driver, knew it. He also knew he wasn’t going to like the no news he had.

“Did you find her yet?”

“No, boss.”

“Well, what the fuck is taking so long?” he asked
as he banged the dash in front of him. “You tell the boys they better have something for me within forty eight hours or I’ll make everyone’s lives miserable.”

“Yes
, boss. Where to, boss?”

“Amilynn’s.”
He was so angry, he needed a good fuck. The crazy redheaded bitch always provided that for him. She liked it hard and rough, like him. Probably because he bought her an apartment and a fur, not to mention the diamonds draped around her neck. Women, fucking had to spend a fortune on them to get laid.

His thoughts turned to Melanie.
She was different. She never asked for anything. She was sweet and full of goodness not to mention beautiful. Shit, he missed her like crazy. He made up his mind. As soon as he found her, he would put a ring on her finger and knock her up. The bitch won’t go nowhere then.