Chapter Six
September 1925
Sterling entered Pearl's dressing room without knocking, causing her to jump up from her dressing table, covering herself.
Seeing it was her husband, she dropped her arms from in front of the sheer envelope chemise she wore. “Darling, you startled me,” she fussed. “You’re early.”
“Looks like I’m right on time, doll.” He moved towards her, silently complimenting himself for his exquisite taste in undergarments. This one was one of his favorites, with the lovely lace inserts giving him peeks of her porcelain skin. The snap-crotch closure was a must-have for quick and easy access for his roaming fingers and hungry cock.
They’d just been married for a few weeks, and she immediately recognized that look on his face — the sly grin with eyes raking over her body.
“Don’t you get any ideas, Mr. Rossini. I’ve got my speakeasy debut to get ready for.”
She sat back down at the dressing table and finished primping, fastening a pearl and rhinestone clip to one side of her hair. He moved behind her and pulled her shiny, black hair over her shoulder, giving his mouth access to her neck.
His lips barely brushed against her delicate skin while he whispered in her ear. “Oh, I have plenty of ideas, Mrs. Rossini."
Before she could respond, he slipped his fingers down the front of her chemise, cupping her breasts. Her mouth opened in a sigh, and they locked eyes in the mirror. "You're insatiable," she said, reddening with arousal.
"And you're breathtaking."
His fingers pinched her nipples, causing her to gasp. She allowed herself one more moment of pleasure before wriggling free. "Darling, we don't have time for this. I have to finish getting ready."
He smirked, saying, "To be continued after the show, then.”
Her green eyes locked onto his brown eyes in the mirror again, and her body stiffened. "I'm nervous, you know. James said people filled every seat surrounding the stage."
She turned her head to face him, and he raked the back of a finger across her cheek. "You're ready, Pearl. The jazz club was a warm-up for you. Everyone who hears you sing will fall in love with you… just like I did.”
Her shoulders relaxed upon hearing his words. You do love me, don’t you, darling? With a smile returning, she replied, "I trust you if you think I'm ready."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small purple velvet box, extending it to her. "For good luck."
She playfully snatched the box from his hand, giving him a wink. "My goodness, what have you done now?" When she opened it, she bit her lower lip upon seeing the elegant pearl and diamond drop earrings, then raised her teary eyes to meet his watchful gaze.
"Sterling…"
"To go with your pearl necklace you are so fond of."
She quickly clipped them onto her ear lobes and admired her new jewelry in the mirror.
"They're stunning on you," he said, lightly squeezing the tops of her shoulders.
Pearl rose and turned to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, then planting a loving kiss on his cheek. "Thank you!"
“You’re welcome. Now I’ve got to check on things in the club, so I’ll leave you to finish getting ready.”
After he left, Pearl sat back down at her dressing table and admired her reflection in the mirror. Would you look at me now, Mama.
◇◇◇
"Hello, Lucky, welcome back." Sterling smiled, extending his hand to the mob boss.
Lucky Luciano firmly shook his hand. "Thank you, Sterling. It's good to be back. Business has kept me away for a bit." He gestured to the empty chair beside him. "Please, join me."
Sterling sat down and motioned for a waitress to bring a few drinks.
"You know we've known each other for a long time, and you've never looked happier. Is it just the club's success or more the beauty who you've captured as your wife?"
Sterling laughed. "More the beauty who is now my wife."
Lucky puffed his cigar, eyeing Sterling curiously. "You know, I can't help but notice her resemblance to a certain gal you used to run with."
Sterling was grateful the waitress returned with glasses of whiskey, allowing him time to gather his thoughts. “I guess I just have a thing for brunettes, but I assure you the similarity ends there."
"That's good to hear, Sterling. People say my line of work is dangerous, but it's nothing compared to how dangerous it is to fall for one of these dames. They can rip your heart out and leave you wishing you were dead."
Sterling knew all too well the heartache he described but refused to acknowledge it still lived within him. "I moved on as soon as Stella left for Chicago with Johnny."
Lucky cast him a doubtful look, noticing the flash of pain in his eyes, but refrained from disagreeing. "Well, for whatever it's worth, I saw her recently, and she didn't look too happy. You know Johnny’s running with Al Capone now."
"As I said, I've moved on, and Stella and Johnny are of no concern to me."
"Good to hear. You deserve happiness and success, my friend." Changing the subject, he asked, "I guess you heard about the cops raiding The Cotton Club?"
"I did, and thank you for keeping them outta my club."
"You're a smart businessman, Sterling. You run a classy joint and understand how this town works. These cops don't care about the booze. Hell, they come and drink with us. But drugs are another thing. You understand they don't want cocaine in this town."
"I'm lucky to have James.” He gestured to his large friend standing by the door. “He keeps a close eye on things and handles them before it becomes a problem.” He rolled his drink glass around in his hand, thinking about those who had tried to peddle drugs in his club and left with a few broken body parts.
"Good to hear. Now when's your lovely wife gonna sing for us?"
The piano player moved into place as soon as the words had left his mouth, and the lights dimmed.
"I believe right now." His stomach jumped, excitement welling up inside him. He was proud of Pearl and anxious to show her off. After all, appearances were everything to Sterling.
The room quieted; moments later, Pearl appeared on stage under a spotlight, wearing a sparkly red dress short enough to showcase her perfectly-shaped legs. The red was a perfect compliment to her raven-black hair and porcelain skin. Her stunning appearance stole the breath of every man in the joint… and tightened their trousers as Sterling had predicted.
Emotions flickered across her delicate features —excitement, nervousness, then fear. Sterling, where are you? Her eyes darted from table to table until she found her husband’s smiling face, and her confidence returned. He nodded, and she, in turn, nodded to the piano player. When she started to sing, Sterling fell in love with her all over again.
◇◇◇
After finishing her set, she politely wove her way through the patrons smothering her with compliments, and took a seat at the bar to wait for Sterling to join her. A hand lightly touched her shoulder, and she spun around, thinking it was her husband, only to be shocked by the man standing behind her.
"Duke," she gushed, "you're Duke Hollister."
The blonde-haired man smiled, then brought one of her hands to his lips. It was his deep blue eyes that caught her breath. The most beautiful color I’ve seen since coming to this town, she thought. Instantly, she became enamored with the devastatingly handsome movie star.
"My name's not important. It's your name I want to know after that performance."
She replied with a nervous hitch in her voice. "Pearl, Mr. Hollister. My name is Pearl."
Without releasing her hand, he flashed his perfectly-aligned white teeth in a grin. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Pearl. And please, call me Duke."
"I've seen all your movies, Duke. And I've played all your records too." The words slipped out before she knew it, causing her to blush, afraid she'd sounded like a lovestruck schoolgirl.
"Then, I'm honored, Pearl. Your voice… it's stunning. As are you."
She allowed her eyes to linger on his, perhaps a bit too long to be appropriate. "That means so much to me, coming from such a talented man as yourself. What brings you to New York?”
“I started acting on Broadway, so New York City will always feel like home to me, even though I spend more time in Los Angeles now.”
“Oh, Los Angeles, I bet there are many colors there.” She frowned, looking around at the dimly lit grayscale, smoky room.
He eyes her curiously. “Colors? What do you mean?”
“New York City is black and white. I miss the colors of Kansas — green grass, blue skies, and most of all, the bright sunshine.”
He found her comments charming and chuckled. “Doll, you came to the wrong city for bright sunshine. I bet you’d love California… and I know California would love you.”
Pearl blushed at another compliment from him, and even though the house band had begun playing jazz music with couples flocking to the ballroom dance floor, she failed to notice the raucous party growing around them. Duke's presence had utterly captivated her until James materialized beside them, glaring down his hawkish nose at the much shorter Duke.
"Do you need something, fella?" Duke looked up, annoyed by the unknown man’s icy stare.
Only Pearl’s gentle touch to James’s muscled arm unclenched his fists. She quickly rushed to introductions. "Oh, hi James, this is Duke Hollister… the Duke Hollister!"
"I know who he is," responded James with a dead tone and a cocked eyebrow.
Before anyone could say another word, Sterling joined them and pulled Pearl into a possessive side hug. "Welcome back, Duke. I see you've met my wife."
Duke furrowed his brows. "Your wife?"
"Yes, she married me a few weeks ago, making me the luckiest man in New York." Sterling squeezed her against him and kissed her on the cheek.
Duke tried to hide the disappointment welling up in his voice, and the smile he managed was strained and thin. "Then let me offer you both my congratulations. I was just telling your wife how much I enjoyed her performance."
Pearl smiled but wished she'd had more time with the heartthrob before James and her husband interrupted.
“Well, I think I’ll find my table and enjoy a glass of your fine liquor, Sterling. Nice to meet you, Pearl,” he said, swiftly grazing her back with his hand as he walked away. Damn, she’s gorgeous!
Pearl suddenly wanted to flee, fearing James or, more importantly, her husband would notice Duke's effect on her. “I think I’ll return to my dressing room and change for the next set.”
“Alright, sweetheart.” Sterling kissed her cheek again and turned to watch her silk-draped ass walk away.
“Damn, am I one lucky man, or what?”
James ignored his question, his insides boiling. "What's he doing here? You know I don't trust those Hollywood types." His ferocious brows furrowed. "I should tell him to beat it."
"Those Hollywood types drop a lot of dough in here, James, so be nice to our paying customers," he said with a lowered voice before greeting the mayor passing by.
But past hurts remained permanently inked on James’s mind, so he ignored his boss and turned around to locate Duke. He bumped into a liquored-up partier who immediately put her hands on his broad chest.
"Hi, handsome. Remember me?"
"No." He pretended she was invisible and looked over the top of her head, determined to find Duke.
The frisky gal missed the hint and kept pawing at him and babbling things he tuned out.
Annoyed, he spewed, "Get off me," then grabbed her by the waist and lifted her, roughly setting her back down a few feet to his right.
As she walked off pouting, he spotted Duke's blonde hair. Seeing him with three broads hanging on his every line, he gritted his teeth, seething with a growling groan rising from deep within his belly. You best keep your dirty paws off Pearl, Mr. Hollywood, if you know what’s good for you.
Chapter Seven
May 1926
On the walk to his office from his packed club below, Sterling was in a fine mood, thinking about the last few months. A loving wife on his arm. A booming business. More dough than he could spend. Then, he opened the door and froze at the sight before him. A raven-haired woman, adorned in a green silk dress stretched over her perfectly contoured ass, stood with her back to him. If he hadn’t just seen his wife performing on stage downstairs, he’d have sworn she stood in his office. Suddenly, the mystery woman spun around so he could see her face — his breath caught in his chest.
“Stella?”
“Hello, Sterling. I hope you don’t mind; I let myself in.”
“What… what are you doing here?”
She sashayed over to stand directly in front of him. Tracing the lapels of his jacket with her long, red nails, she purred, “I missed you.”
◇◇◇
Sterling darted in and out of the crowd of patrons to get to Duke’s table, sat down, and blurted out, “Do you have any plans tonight?”
“You’re looking at my plans.” Duke noticed his friend looked uncharacteristically bothered but decided not to pry.
“I need a favor,” Sterling asked while sliding folded bills across the table.
Duke eyes the bills without touching them. “What’s the favor?”
“I have some sudden… business… and I’d promised to take Pearl out to dinner after this number. Would you take her out? You know all the classy joints around here. Tell her about your next flick or something. She loves that showbiz stuff.”
Duke sat quietly for a few moments and then pushed the bills back to Sterling, who frowned at the gesture, assuming his request was about to be denied. Duke indulged in a lingering look at Pearl. You're a fool, Sterling. Turning his attention back to his friend, he stated, “I don’t need to be paid to take a doll like Pearl out to dinner. How long do I need to keep her out?”
Sterling smiled and tucked his bills back inside his pocket. “Just a few hours, and thank you. Give her my apologies?”
“Sure thing. And good luck with your business."
◇◇◇
Sterling walked back into his office and shook his head, still not believing her presence.
"Why are you really here, Stella?"
Instead of answering, she walked around his office, fingering the expensive paintings.
"So, this is all yours?"
"Yes, it is."
"You said you'd be a big shot one day, and here you are."
"And you didn't want to wait, so you chose to move to Chicago with Johnny."
"I never stopped loving…"
"Don't," he interrupted, "I have Pearl now."
She wrinkled her face at the mention of his wife's name.
"Why don't you get us some bubbly, Sterling? I assume Lucky's keeping you well-supplied."
He poured some champagne and walked back to her, but instead of accepting her drink, she moved her hands to his zipper.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
She looked him in the eyes, pouting her cupid's bow lips. “Johnny two-timed me.”
“So, you want to use me to settle the score?” He looked for a place to set the drinks, but the nearest table was out of reach. “Forget it, dollface.”
She grabbed his tie, bringing his face within an inch of hers, then returned one hand to his zipper. “You don’t remember how much you loved my mouth on you?”
While he searched for an answer, her hand unzipped his trousers and slid inside.
He growled in pleasure. “Damn you, Stella.”
She proceeded to stroke him outside his underwear before dropping to her knees. He grunted when she pulled his throbbing cock out and held his head an inch from her mouth.
Looking up at him, she teased, “You can say 'stop,'” then flicked her tongue on his tip.
“Damn you,” he groaned, gripping the glasses tighter, trying to keep the drinks from spilling.
"You know you still love me," she purred, then dragged her tongue along the length of his shaft.
His hands shook as he tried to control his arousal. "I love my wife."
“Does your wife do this?” she teased. “I’m betting not. Wouldn’t want to smear her perfectly-applied lipstick, no doubt.”
“Do not speak about my wife.” His breathing became labored as he lost the struggle to reject her hungry mouth surrounding his cock.
She was right. His wife had never dirtied her knees for him. While Sterling looked down at the temptress sucking him, memories flooded his mind and cock. I do remember how much I loved your mouth on me, Stella.
Pleased with how easily she manipulated him, she sucked him inside her warm mouth at an agonizingly slow pace, inch by inch, until her nose rubbed against his pubic hair. His hands shook, holding the drinks, fighting the urge to throw them against the wall, grab hold of her head, and face-fuck her until she choked.
She tortured him, slowing pulling him out, allowing her lips to tug on his flesh before sucking him back in further than before.
“Damn, Stella,” he cursed again and then dropped the glasses onto the ground, startling her.
He yanked her off her knees and growled in her face, “You can’t just drop back in my life and think you have control over me. You don’t. You chose him, so you’re stuck with that choice.”
Her cheeks reddened, and she snarled at him. “You’ve gone soft,” swatting his crotch with her hand on the word ‘soft.’
“And you’ve turned into a whore.”
Slap!
Her surprise slap enraged him… that rage mixed with an undeniable lust for her fueled his next move. He twisted her body and spanked her ass cheeks while she screamed, trying to wriggle free from his grasp.
“Stop! Stop!” she spat while he continued to spread heat all over her round bottom.
“Do these hands feel soft, babe?” he sneered while continuing to punish her ass with the palm of his hand.
She managed to side-stomp on his foot, and he momentarily released her before finding his grip again and jerking her around to face him.
"How many spankings did that lip of yours get you when we were together, babe?"
Her face flushed red with anger, but her eyes revealed a different heat. Unable to stop the moving train of passion, Sterling dragged her to his desk and forced her face-down onto the hard wooden desktop. Pinning her head down with one hand, his other hand yanked her dress up, pausing to admire her spectacular ass and legs.
"You're still a looker, babe. I'll give you that," he said before grabbing a handful of her ass.
She cursed, feigning disgust at his actions, but he wasn’t swayed. He rutted his cock between her legs, then leaned over her, whispering in her ear, “You can say ‘stop.’”
“Do it,” she dared him.
Not wasting a moment, he unsnapped the crotch of her peach silk bloomers and drove his cock into her pussy. Your puss rats you out, dollface; you’re dripping wet.
“And does this feel ‘soft’ to you, Stella?” he grunted as he stretched her walls with his steel cock.
Her answer came in the form of guttural moans. She'd indeed missed his rough fucks that Johnny'd never been able to mimic. Every nerve ending fired from her waist to her knees as his blood-filled cock ravaged her insides.
“You came here wanting to get fucked, did you?” The desk screeched against the hardwood floor in time with his thrusts. “Well, you’ll get fucked all right. Good and hard.”
He rammed his cock, and the sound of his balls smacking her porcelain skin filled the room. “Is this what you wanted?
“God, yes, Sterling, yes!”
"How (thrust) does revenge (thrust) feel now (thrust)?"
Chapter Eight
June 1926
Pearl walked through the club's front door, then stopped in her tracks at the sight of Duke.
Butterflies. Pearl knew what they were — because of him. She stood stuck to the floor while the fluttering persisted in her lower tummy. She scolded herself, but heat rushed to her lady parts despite her guilty feelings. Sterling was charming, but could be intense. He lacked the laidback playfulness she enjoyed with Duke.
Ever since their first dinner a month ago, Duke dropped by the club more often to watch her sing. He always appeared by her side, warming her cheeks with his compliments when James and Sterling were otherwise occupied. Her attraction to him had grown tenfold. Oh, Mama, I wish you were here. I've found myself in a real mess.
"Hello, Duke. What brings you to the club this early?" she said, walking toward him, trying to hide her excitement.
"Hi, gorgeous," he rose from the piano bench and brought her hand to his lips. "I have something I want to discuss with your husband."
Her eyes locked onto his mouth that had called her such a flattering name, and she longed to know how it felt to be kissed by him. A smile crept across his face as if he knew what she’d been thinking, and she reddened in embarrassment. "He's… he’s not here… but… but should be here shortly if you want to wait."
“I know. James was here earlier, lurking about, and briefly talked to me. What's with him anyway?"
"He's always been very sweet to me, and Sterling trusts him… says he'd never double-cross him."
"He's hard-boiled if you ask me."
Pearl shared a closeness with James and didn't like talking about him behind his back, so she decided to change Duke's focus and slid onto the bench beside him, rising briefly to smooth her dress over the hump of her ass. His eyes followed her hands, and thoughts a man shouldn't have about another man's wife roamed around in his head. As for Pearl, her heart pitter-pattered at her proximity to him.
"What were you playing? It's beautiful," she asked, flashing him her brightest smile.
"Just a little something I'm writing. Would you like me to teach you the chorus notes?"
"Sure, I'd love to learn to play." Her hand bravely brushed his thigh as she scooted closer, bumping up against him.
His cock stirred at her touch, but remembering their present location, he attempted to redirect his thoughts. "Watch my fingers." He played eight notes. "Now, you try."
She playfully bumped his fingers off the keys and replaced them with her delicate ones. He watched her beautiful eyes narrow in determination as she mimicked the note pattern he'd just played.
"Attagirl! You're a natural, Pearl!" What I wouldn’t give to sit you on this keyboard and take you right here.
She beamed, happy to impress him. "Teach me more!"
Trying again to redirect his lusty thoughts, he played another eight notes, then gestured to the keys for her turn. Again, she perfectly mimicked him and turned her face toward him, eager for his response.
I’m playing with fire, but… He reached to tuck a stray tendril behind her ear, his finger tracing her jaw on the way back. She tilted her head, trapping his hand against her collarbone. Their eyes locked with one another, speaking what couldn’t be said aloud.
He would have kissed her right then and there if they hadn’t been in her husband’s club, so he withdrew his hand and said, "You've got it, gorgeous. Now, put it all together."
She played the melodic sequence of notes, and he wrapped his arm around her and squeezed her shoulder when she finished. She enjoyed their touches and responded by laying her head briefly against his shoulder. They held their positions as long as they dared, then straightened back up. They both knew this little teasing game they played was dangerous.
"Now, I will add the bass while you play the treble." He counted down, and they played together with their shoulders brushing against each other.
"I did it! I did it!" She squealed with excitement, then forgot where she was and turned and threw her arms around him.
He took advantage of their closeness to sniff her sweet perfume behind her ear while running a hand down to rest on the small of her back. The sound of slow claps interrupted their embrace. They abruptly pulled apart and turned to find Sterling standing in a doorway a few feet away — his mustache twisted in a curious expression.
"Oh, hi, darling… umm… Duke was just teaching me how to play the piano." She slid off the bench and hurried to his side, scolding her blushing cheeks. Sterling firmly clasped her hand, possessively pulling her closer.
"Yes, Duke enjoys teaching the ladies many things," Sterling said dryly.
Awkward silence sucked the air out of the room before Duke finally spoke. "Sterling, I came by to talk to you if you have a few moments."
"I always make time for a friend, Duke. Let's move to my office."
They walked down the hall in silence while Duke pondered how best to broach the subject. Once in his office, the two men sat down opposite one another.
Duke leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him, casually stating, "Sterling, your wife is a real talent."
Hearing Duke mention his wife annoyed him. "I know. I hired her, remember."
Duke chuckled, trying to lighten Sterling's mood that he sensed was less than jovial. "Hollywood is currently looking for some gals for a new flick I’m co-starring in, and I think there might be a spot for Pearl as a chorus girl.”
"No."
"But—"
Sterling cut him off, shaking his head. "I said, 'No.' Pearl belongs here, not in Hollywood."
Duke frowned. “It’s maybe a three-month shoot, Sterling. It will be the first movie with sound on the silver screen — a real good opportunity to launch her career to the next level. Al Jolson's set to star as the lead.”
Sterling slammed his fist down on the side table. “I am her husband. And I will decide the direction of her career. Do you understand?"
Duke sat back in his chair, eyeing Sterling and trying to formulate a response.
Sterling's eyes grew dark, and his tone ominous. “I mean it. Not a word to her, Duke. We’ve been friends for a long time. I’d hate for that friendship to meet an unpleasant end.”
Duke furrowed his brows and stood up. “Hey, friend, that sounds like a threat of some kind.”
Sterling stood and walked toward the bar, pouring another drink. He took a deep breath and decided he didn't want beef with him as it would be bad for business. Instead, he offered the poured drink to Duke. “Let’s just forget about this conversation, shall we? I’ve set up your poker game tonight. Got two of my best gals working the room for you. Plenty of liquor and anything else you and your friends might need.”
“Thank you.” Duke raised his glass to Sterling and attempted to hide his disappointment. He’d hoped to get the chance to spend more time with the lovely Pearl away from her husband's smothering presence. You win, for now, Sterling, but I'm not one to give up easily.
Chapter Nine
July 1926
Pearl was looking for her husband when she stumbled upon him arguing outside his office with one of the bartenders. James was there too and averted her questioning gaze, quickly shoving the young man through the door. Sterling paused long enough to acknowledge her and say, "I've got some business, Pearl, then I'll be with you."
She watched him close his door, and an ill feeling spread over her. Something terrible was about to happen; she just knew it.
Curiosity got the best of her, and she moved closer to his door to listen. Her husband's booming voice accusing the man of selling drugs in his club drowned out the bartender's softer pleas for forgiveness. A muffled scream of pain followed, and she covered her ears, stepping back from the door. Before she could fully retreat, the door flew open, and James escorted the white-faced, trembling man from the office. She looked down and saw a blood-soaked rag where one of the man's fingers should be and covered her mouth, gasping. Bile rose from her stomach, and she fled to the ladies' room to vomit. When she finished retching and washed her face, she opened the bathroom door to find Sterling leaning against the wall.
"I'm sorry you saw that, Pearl." His tone — emotionless — unraveled her further.
She looked upon him with fearful eyes. "You… you did that?" She spat, "You're a monster!"
He moved towards her and grabbed her roughly by the arm. "He disrespected me, Pearl! Selling drugs in my club! The fuzz turn the other way at the alcohol but wouldn't hesitate to shut me down for drugs." He released her, then waved his arms in dramatic sweeping motions. "If I'm not in control, let people get away with disrespecting me, then all this goes away. The club. The apartment. The cars. The jewels. The fancy dinners. All of it!"
"I don't want any of it if that's what it takes to keep it!" She screamed at him, gritting her teeth, tears ruining her makeup.
He pinned her against the wall by her shoulders with one swift movement, his face so close to hers she tasted the smoke on his breath. "You are a liar! Remember, I rescued you from a rat-infested apartment with no more than a few dollars to your name, Dorothy Jean!"
Hearing her birth name startled her and reminded her of her meager life before him. Reminded her of her mama’s last words to her. “Marry a good man, Dorothy,” she’d said. A good man. Was Sterling a good man? She questioned that now.
His yelling interrupted her thoughts. "You are nothing without me. Nothing. Remember that." Then he released her and walked away, leaving her sobbing against the wall.
Pearl couldn’t shake the vision of the man’s bloody hand or her husband’s rude behavior toward her. I have to get out of here!
She fled down the hall, through the club, and ran smack into Duke coming through the front door. “Whoa, doll, where’s the fire?”
He saw her tears when she wasn’t fast enough to hide her face. “Hey, Pearl, what’s got you so upset?” He gently placed a finger on her chin, turning her face towards him. “You can tell me.”
Looking into his caring blue eyes, she knew she could trust him. “Oh, Duke. It was awful… just awful,” and she collapsed against him, laying her head on his shoulder, sobbing. “Take me away from here… please.”
“Sure thing, Pearl. I’ve got you.” Cradling her against his side, he guided her out the door.
Having walked in on the scene between Duke and Pearl, Sterling had kept to the shadows, watching. As jealousy boiled up inside of him, he lit a cigarette. Just what do you think you’re doing, friend?
He had smelled his heavy cologne before James spoke from behind him. Nice try, James, but a whore's stench still reeks on you.
"Want me to bring her back, boss?" Sterling didn't readily answer, so James continued, "I've been watching him, and I don't like the way he looks at her. No man should look at another man's wife that way."
Sterling turned around to face his loyal friend and placed his hand on his shoulder. "Leave her be, but thank you, James."
James nodded, then turned and walked away, but his mind churned. Sterling had saved his life, so he'd protect him and everything that belonged to him. Don't worry, Boss; I won't let you lose your wife like I lost my Anna.
Sterling walked over to the bar, picked up the candlestick phone, and then dialed a number. When the man on the other end answered, he said, “Yeah, it's Sterling Rossini. I have a job for you.”
To be continued…