Scarlet Women. Jessie Keane
son Alberto she didn’t yet know about, but she felt sure he was going to hate her too. Cara, Constantine’s daughter, who was newly married, was sure to see her as a rival for Daddy’s affection, and already Constantine’s sister Gina had looked at her like she was a turd on the pavement.
‘Well, are you going to come in, or go out again?’ asked Constantine from behind the desk.
The study was the same as she remembered. Big tan-coloured Chesterfields, rows of books, a big desk with a buttoned leather chair behind it and a yellow banker’s light casting a warm glow upon its tooled-leather top. There was a marble fireplace with a decorated screen in front of it. This was a clubby, masculine room, and she felt out of place in it, just as she had last time she was here.
‘I’m not sure,’ she said.
He stood up and came around the desk and over to where Annie stood against the door. He held out his hand, palm down. Expecting her to kiss his hand, she thought. Annie looked at it, then at his face, then shook his hand briefly. Constantine gave a slight smile.
The silver fox. After his mother and brother had been hit in Sicily, his grandfather had promptly shipped him off to join the family in New York where it was safer. He’d grown up running numbers around Queens and in the Bronx, learning the business, finally taking control.
Annie looked up at his face. It was a strong face, commanding. Tanned, with bright blue eyes. Deep laughter lines in the corners. He put his hands in his pockets and looked at her from just inches away.
‘So what now, Mrs Carter?’ he asked in that assured, deep American voice. ‘You gonna bolt for the door, or give this a shot?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Annie, although she did. She brushed past him, went to the desk, sat down. ‘I’m here to discuss your clubs.’
Constantine went back around the desk and sat down too.
‘There’s nothing to discuss,’ he said. ‘I’m perfectly happy with the service I’m getting.’ He looked at her. ‘Which isn’t to say it couldn’t be improved upon, of course.’
The West End clubs that Constantine owned were gold mines. Annie knew that. Famous people were in and out of there all the time, the Beatles, Howard Keel, George Segal, anyone who was anyone, all the big names. If you weren’t rich, famous or glamorous—and preferably you would be all three—you wouldn’t get through the door.
Constantine knew many film stars and singers, just as Max had done. They were pleased to appear in his clubs and to bestow extra kudos upon them. Those he didn’t know—the up-and-coming talents, the great emerging beauties flaunting their fabulous bodies and eager to press the flesh of producers and directors—people like that, he paid. For a couple of grand and a few freebies they’d be there, spotting and being spotted, adding new-face charisma and a sprinkle of stardust to the already heady mix.
His clubs—like the other top London nightspots, Tramp and Annabel’s—were always packed out with wealthy punters, and wealthy punters liked tight security, locally provided, right there on the spot. While Constantine did business here, his main base was New York. Rather than spread his own resources too thinly, he preferred to hire in native muscle—and, up until this point, that muscle had always been the Carters.
‘Look,’ she said quickly, ‘have the Delaneys made you an offer?’
Constantine gave her a look. ‘The Delaneys are always making me offers.’
‘Have they? What did Redmond have to say to you when I met you at the hotel?’
‘Okay. He said that whatever the Carter cut was, he’d halve it.’
Annie let out a breath. ‘I bloody knew it,’ she fumed. She looked at him. ‘And you didn’t buy that?’
Constantine shrugged. ‘Max was always a good friend to our family, he honoured his business dealings with us and I’m returning the favour.’
‘Although it’s costing you.’
‘Yeah. But that goes with the territory.’ He looked at her shrewdly. ‘The Delaney thing’s still ongoing then? I know they’ve spent years trying to muscle in on Carter territory, and now Max and Jonjo are not on the scene, I guess they’re thinking the coast is clear.’
‘It’s not clear,’ she said. ‘I’ve told them that.’
‘Well, that’s good. Because it’s tough, being a boss. And doubly tough being a lady boss. People looking to shake you down. Thinking it’s gonna be easy, you know?’
‘It’s not clear, okay?’
‘Okay, so that’s the business talk wrapped up. How is Layla?’
‘She’s fine,’ said Annie.
‘Good. That’s good news.’
He stood up and came around the desk and leaned back against it, then hauled Annie to her feet with one hand. Startled, she found herself standing between his legs, pressed up tight against him, his arms around her waist. ‘Can we now get on to what’s really on our minds?’ he asked.
‘Like what?’ asked Annie, although she knew.
Her blood was fizzing with desire; she’d wanted this for far too long. But her desire was tainted with unease now. What if he was lying, what if he’d already got into bed—in the business sense—with the Delaneys? What if he was her enemy, even while he appeared to be her friend?
‘Like this,’ said Constantine, and bent his head and kissed her. Her head reeled and pulse accelerated. After a couple of seconds, Annie pulled back, bunching her fists against his chest.
‘Wait,’ she said.
‘Wait?’ Constantine’s expression was amused disbelief.
‘You said something and I want to know what you meant.’
‘When did I say something?’
‘Outside the hotel. You said if you could find the guts to face this thing, then so could I. What did you mean?’
‘Right.’ His eyes lost their spark of humour. He looked at her, smoothed his hands over her back. ‘Listen to me. Five years ago I lost my wife Maria in a hit organized by a rogue soldier from one of the other New York families. He was aiming for me. He got her.’
‘I know that,’ said Annie.
‘Yeah, but maybe you don’t know what it’s like to have that sort of guilt on your shoulders, uh? Anyway, what I’m telling you is, bad things can happen to people who come close to me.’ His eyes were intense as they stared into hers. ‘You know what I am. You know I’m telling you the truth.’
Maybe I don’t even want to get close to you, she thought. Maybe I don’t dare.
‘I’m not afraid,’ said Annie.
‘There have been bad things done between the families. Terrible things. Thirty members of one family, wiped out in a vendetta. A boy of twelve killed, his body dissolved in acid. Getting scared yet?’
She was scared all right—scared of loving him, and discovering too late that he was a treacherous bastard.
‘You’re quiet,’ he said when she didn’t answer.
‘I think you’re on my side.’ Annie was staring at him. ‘So I’ve nothing to fear, have I?’
‘You think?’ He was looking at her curiously.
He was warning her of the dangers of involvement—but she wasn’t even sure she wanted to get in any deeper. ‘And I’ve got the boys. Max’s boys,’ she said. It was safer, better, to rely on them.
‘I’m glad you said Max’s,’ said Constantine. ‘Because they’re still his, you know, not yours.’