Sinful Secrets (Savannah Sharks Hockey and Mafia #2)

Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

SAVANNAH

I grab my forest green colored pencil and shade in the dress I’m sketching. This is my third and final sketch for class.

My phone rings. The guys are still out of town and with the time change, they should be getting ready for the game.

Looking at the caller ID, a smile forms on my face.

It’s Francesca. We have talked every day since the party and she’s even brought me dinner a couple of nights.

“Hey, Francesca. What’s going on?”

It’s not like her to call me in the middle of a workday. I wonder if something happened to the guys?

Her voice is chipper, even though it’s barely above whispering. “What are you doing right now?”

“Um, finishing up some sketches for my fashion class. Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. Since the guys are still out of town for away games, I was wondering if you wanted to go on an undercover mission with me?”

“An undercover mission? Where? Doing what?”

Do the guys know about this undercover mission?

Would they approve?

Should I tell Spencer? No. I definitely shouldn’t because he will be worried about me the entire game tonight and the trip home. Hell, he might actually skip the game to get here sooner.

Something rustles on Francesca’s end a second before a filing cabinet slams closed. “I’ll explain everything on the way. Get dressed and wear something sexy. I’ll be over in a few minutes.”

“Sexy? I don’t have anything sexy here. I didn’t plan to wear something sexy while staying at Spencer’s.”

“I’ll grab something from my closet and come over in a few minutes.”

She ends the call before I get a chance to protest. There’s no way I can fit into her clothes. She has amazing curves and I don’t. She’s also taller than me.

Grabbing my sketchbook and green-colored pencil, I finish filling in the dress before notating the tiny details I plan to add.

True to her word, a few minutes later, Francesca knocks on Spencer’s door. I put my sketchbook down on the coffee table and make my way to the foyer.

Francesca is grinning and holding a black semi revealing tank top dress that matches the one she’s currently wearing.

“There has been a change of plans.”

I raise my eyebrow. How can a plan change when it’s been less than five minutes? “The plan has changed since we got off the phone a few minutes ago?”

She nods. “A lot can change in a short period of time in this world.”

“What world? The mafia world? That’s the undercover mission we are going on?” I try to keep the fear out of my tone, but it still comes through.

Spencer would not approve of this. I’ve barely even touched the surface of the mafia world and Francesca is practically throwing me to the wolves.

I’m not ready for this. I don’t know the proper etiquette for dealing with mafia conflicts. What’s expected of me? What’s not?

Spencer was supposed to ease me into all of this.

Francesca pushes past me and lays my dress over the arm of the couch. “The mission is still the same. The means of how we are going to pull it off have changed. We are now going to pose as cocktail waitresses.”

“And why do we need to pose as cocktail waitresses?”

Whose party are we crashing? Is this going to cause another shootout or another rival family to come after them?

She waves her hands from side to side. “Well, we aren’t posing. We actually have to work the event.”

I lean against the door frame to Spencer’s bedroom and cross my arms. “Do you care to explain more? At least connect the dots, because I’m completely lost here.”

“We are spying on the Emerald City Reapers to see what they are up to. They know who I am, so I’ll be wearing a wig and trying to stay on the outskirts of the party. You will have to get closer to them.”

None of this is adding up. Why would they throw a party?

“They are just going to expose themselves like this? How did you even find out where they were going to be? Why not have your father and his men handle this?”

There are so many questions left unanswered. It’d be stupid of me to just go along with this on a hunch or a rumor.

“Believe it or not, my father is against going after the gang. Or at least that’s what he has told me. I think it’s because the guys are out of town and he doesn’t want me involved in the family affairs.”

“Because you got shot?”

She shrugs. “Yes. No. I don’t actually know. He’s never let me be a part of things until recently, and even then, my opinion doesn’t matter as much as the guy’s opinions.”

“That’s bullshit!”

She laughs. “Yeah, I’m really glad I have another woman around. Go and get dressed. I’ll answer your questions on the ride over.”

I grab the dress off the arm of the couch and make my way into the bathroom. This dress is skin tight and quite revealing. It makes my average sized breasts look halfway decent.

A few minutes later, I’m dressed and my makeup is darker and heavier than I usually wear it. My hair is partly pinned up in a professional hairdo.

“I don’t have any heels here. Can we stop at my dorm on the way?”

“Sure. It’s in the same direction we are heading.”

“We’re going downtown? Who throws a party in the middle of the day in downtown Savannah?”

“They do, apparently. It’s at the new club, but first, I need you to put these in.”

“Colored contacts?”

“To protect our identities. You will be wearing dark brown contacts and I’m going to be wearing light green.”

I put in the contacts, slip on my sandals, and lock the door before following her downstairs to a rental car.

“I don’t have my own car yet. My old one broke down right before I moved back here and I haven’t had time to buy another one.” She explains, like she is used to being judged for driving a rental car.

“That doesn’t bother me. A rental is probably smarter because your name isn’t tied to the license plate. So what are we even trying to find out?”

She pulls out of the parking lot and heads to my dorm. “What they are planning.”

If no one knows their true identities, then how do they know where they are going to be and that they are planning something?

Are they that stupid to let others overhear them?

Or maybe that’s part of the plan. They want us to know they are planning something so they can ambush us.

“And how do we know they are planning something?”

“The Marinos have undercover informants all over the city and they have heard rumors. Besides, it has been way too long since they’ve shown themselves in public. It’s only a matter of time before they try something else.”

“That does make sense, especially if they are a true vigilante gang. Spencer told me your uncle and cousin live down here, too. Do they work these types of events with you?”

She frowns and shakes her head.

I immediately apologize. “I’m so sorry. That’s your private life. I shouldn’t be diving into your family history like that.”

“You are now a part of my family and you should know what happened all those years ago. How about we order dinner tonight and while we wait for the guys to get home, I will give you a family history lesson?”

“That sounds like a plan. We still have an unopened bottle of wine.”

“Ooh, I forgot about the wine. It’s a date.”

She parks at the curb in front of my dorm building. I run upstairs and grab a pair of black heels before running back downstairs.

As I climb into her passenger seat, an idea pops into my head. “Should we take two cars in case we get separated? I can park a little way away in case we can’t get to your car.”

She scrunches up her face and thinks for a moment. “That’s probably a smart idea, but you need to park a few blocks away because your car stands out.”

“You know which car is mine?”

“Of course I do. Spencer told me which one it was, so I can keep an eye out for you. I can spot it from a block away.”

“I guess if I’m going to be going on secret missions with you in the future, I need a darker car with a darker tint.”

Her face lights up. “We can go car shopping together.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think we are looking for cars in the same price range.”

“We’ll see.” She gives me a smile before heading back to Spencer’s apartment.

I get in my car and follow her downtown. I circle the club before driving a couple of blocks away. Finding a public parking lot with two entrances, I park and change into my heels.

I leave everything in my car before walking toward the club. While stopped at a red light, a man in a bright red sports car rolls his window down and whistles. I turn around and glare at him.

Who in their right mind whistles at a woman in the middle of the day? Does he think I’m a prostitute?

Oh God, he does. That’s why he’s whistling at me.

I glance down at my dress and modest three-inch heels. It’s not too revealing.

“Ignore him.” Francesca says before flipping the guy off. “He’s an asshole. There will be more like him at the party.”

She’s wearing a chestnut brown wig with blonde highlights. It’s just different enough for me to have to do a double take, so people who don’t really know her won’t be able to point her out.

At least I hope.

Groaning, I ask, “Why did I let you convince me to do this?”

“Because you are a great friend and didn’t want me to do this alone?”

I smile and nod. “Yeah, remember that when the guys come home tonight and find out what we did today and threaten to lock us up in a tower.”

She loops her arm in mine. “Hey, that could be fun. I enjoy being tied up.”

So did I.

My face blushes.

“Oh my God. You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

Of course I am. It opened up a new side of me, and Spencer loved it.

I roll my eyes. “Come on, we can’t be late. We need to blend in.”

We walk through the back door of the club where we are immediately given a waist apron and a tray of champagne and told to circulate.

The club kitchen is covered in stainless steel counters and appliances. There are four cooks prepping food trays and a handful of waitresses dressed in very similar dresses.

No one speaks to one another. It’s almost as if they were told to be seen and not heard. That’s fine with me because it will give me more of a chance to listen to the people that matter.

Francesca gives me a look before heading in the opposite direction.

I balance my tray and head directly toward the center of the party. Several men in business suits stop me to grab a flute of champagne before continuing their conversation about stocks and bonds.

Boring and not what we are here for.

I continue through the center of the party. Men and women alike grab drinks. When my tray is empty, I head back to the kitchen for another.

I deliver tray after tray of champagne without learning anything new.

Unless you count learning that the mayor has been getting cutbacks from several companies, including Arturo’s shipping business.

“Great work.” A man in a suit says as I reach for a hors d’oeuvre tray.

I turn around and look at the man, coming face to face with a set of emerald green eyes. The same shade of eyes that threatened Spencer while we were eating at Mario’s.

Is he a member of the Reapers? It would be a hell of a coincidence that an outsider has the same unique shade of eyes.

A gasp gets stuck in my throat.

A smirk forms on his face. “Cat got your tongue? Or perhaps you are too nervous to speak to the host of the party?”

He’s the host? Francesca said this party was being thrown by the Emerald City Reapers.

I shake my head and clear my throat. “No, sir, I was momentarily mesmerized by your eyes.”

He raises his eyebrow as his smirk turns into a grin.

Realizing how flirty that sounded, I backtrack. “I’m so sorry. That was way out of line and unprofessional.”

He chuckles. “I like you. You’re honest, and I could use someone like you.”

“I’ll help however I can.” I pick up the food tray.

“Good. Grab the tray and follow me.”

Not knowing where this is heading, I desperately look for Francesca as he leads me through the crowd.

He must be influential because people immediately move out of his way.

We head through an opened doorway through a roped off area where a smaller, more intimate crowd is sitting on velvet couches.

Men in all black are surrounded by women wearing scraps of clothing, but that’s not what surprises me.

Sitting on one of their laps is Emily. The same Emily that worked at Arturo’s club until it burned to the ground.

The host introduces me to the men. “She is the best waitress we’ve ever had. I trust you will all take care of her.”

He turns around and leaves.

All eyes are on me as I walk around the smaller room with my tray of food.

Not only do the men take their fill of me, but some even run their fingers along my hips and ass. Several of them tuck bills into my apron.

“We’d love a round of drinks. Emily, do you care to show her to the bar and help make our drinks?”

I don’t speak as I follow Emily through a secret door. As soon as the door closes behind me, she turns around and glares at me.

“What are you doing here?”

“Uh, working the party.”

“Are you here spying on them?”

The way she’s glaring at me makes me believe she’s not in on whatever Francesca and I are doing, so I shake my head.

“I’m a poor college student. I needed the job and the money and this opportunity just fell into my lap. I’m just as surprised to see you as you are to see me.”

She nods as she gets two trays set up with lowball glasses. “I heard you were working for the feds to take down Arturo.”

Has this shit been going around town? What did Jacob Carter say about me for the rumors to be spreading this fast?

“I haven’t found out anything because Spencer broke up with me and had them take me off the list.”

While that did happen, that’s old news.

“And then the club burned down, so I guess that’s why you really need the job.”

“Guilty.”

She finishes making their drinks before handing me a tray and grabbing the other.

We make our way back to the Reapers and distribute their drinks. She gives them a smile and a nod.

The men noticeably relax in their seats.

Was she sent to make sure I’m clean and not a spy? What would have happened if I told her the truth?

My heart races in my chest as I’m gestured to take the seat in the corner of the room. “I’m sorry, but shouldn’t I be working the party?”

The man closest to me chuckles. “No, you are working for our party and only for our party now. Have a seat and when we want or need something, then you can get it. Do you understand?”

I glance around at the other men. Desire and lust swirl in their eyes.

What exactly are they going to be needing from me?

Not wanting to upset the man, I nod and quietly say, “Yes, sir. I understand.”

I sit down and try to look professional.

Fuck, Francesca. Where are you and what have you gotten me in the middle of?

The man closest to me clears his throat.

“Now, as we were saying, there is a fully stocked cargo ship coming into port tomorrow night. Arturo Marino is the intended receiver. I have received intelligence that there will be over four million dollars’ worth of product on board.”

Several men whistle while laughing with one another.

I clench my teeth together while pretending to not be affected by their conversation.

This is the information Francesca was hoping for.

Another man takes over the conversation. “The plan is for us to hack into their system and divert the cargo ship to another port.”

A third man interrupts. “Actually, that has already happened. The cargo ship will now dock at the East Coast terminal around eleven forty-five tomorrow night.”

The second man nods. “Great work, John. We will all meet up with the client around eleven thirty and ensure the product makes it to land. They are giving us the four million as soon as the product is verified, so we all need to make it quick. In and out..”

Their plan is to steal the product to sell to another client? Who has four million dollars lying around and the capacity to haul that much product through the city?

It’s a good thing Spencer and the team are coming home tonight, but they need to know about this now.

Yelling and screaming comes from the main party area, cutting off their conversation.

“What the hell?” The man closest to me stands and looks toward the doorway. Glass shatters and something slams into the wall behind me, causing me to let out a tiny yelp.

The guys stand and run toward the party. The women follow them out of the room.

Now is my chance to get away.

I slip out with the women as Emily is yelling for me. “Savannah, where are you going? It’s not safe out there.”

Sticking to the outside walls, I head back to the kitchen, hoping I can find Francesca, but she isn’t here.

Against my better judgment, I head back into the party.

“Son of a bitch, where are you, Francesca?” I mumble to myself.

A man points toward the front door. “There’s the bitch.”

My eyes follow his gaze as everyone moves out of the way. Francesca rips off her wig and kicks off her heels before escaping through the front door. Several guys yell and chase after her.

I slip back into the kitchen and out the back door, meeting up with Francesca.

“Come on, Savannah. We really have to go. I’ll meet you back at the apartment.” She runs in the opposite direction.

I kick off my heels and run straight to my car while gunshots sound in the distance.

Please let Francesca make it out of this alive and without another gunshot wound. The guys will never forgive me if something happens to her.

Hell, I’ll never forgive myself.

I make it to my car and drive away as fast as I can. I can only hope and pray that Francesca is already on her way back to the apartment.

Reaching for my phone, I click on my text messages from Spencer and record a voice message.

“Spencer, I really hate to do this right now, since you are probably just now starting warmups before the game, but shit just hit the fan. I will explain more as soon as you can call.”

I stop the voice message as I stop at a red light and buckle my seatbelt. Taking several deep breaths, I try to calm down and slow down my speaking. If he hears the nervousness and the fear in my voice, he will act irrationally.

Taking a deep breath, I say in a calmer tone, “We made it out alive, so keep calm and keep Rhett and Joey from blowing up, but I have time sensitive information that needs to be heard by everyone, including Arturo Marino.”

When I get parked at Spencer’s apartment, I add another voice message.

“Also, I think Emily is a spy working with the Reapers. Either that or Francesca could get her an in with them. I haven’t been able to confirm anything yet because we are in separate cars driving back to the apartment.”

I glance around the parking lot. Not seeing any cars out of the ordinary, I grab all of my stuff and run inside. Skipping the elevator, I sprint up the stairs.

My hands shake as I try to unlock Spencer’s door. Once I’m inside, I lock the door and head straight to the bathroom to get rid of any evidence before sending another voice message.

“I can’t wait for you to get home because I’m in way over my head.”

That’s the God’s honest truth. It’s clear I’m not ready for this lifestyle.