Mick Sinatra: No Love. No Peace. (The Mick Sinatra Series Book 9) Page 7

Then Roz smiled. Just as Jackie had a way of melting Mick’s heart, Duke melted hers. She kissed him again, rubbed his thick, curly hair, and looked at the nannies as she grabbed her briefcase off of the table. “Call me if you need me,” she said to the head Nanny. “But I’ll be checking the monitors all day long.”

  The head nanny smiled. “Yes, ma’am,” she said. Have a nice day, Mrs. Sinatra.”

  Roz smiled back and, with her briefcase in tow, began to leave. She gave Mick another one of her chilling looks, and then headed for the exit.

  To hell with her! Mick wanted to say. And would have said it easily if it was any other woman on the face of this earth. But it wasn’t any other woman. It was Rosalind.

  “Wait,” he said, instead, before she could leave the kitchen area.

  Roz could have easily kept heading for that front door. Who would blame her, she felt, after that shit Mick pulled? But it had been eating at her all night. She needed this to get resolved. And besides all of that, she loved him too much to just walk away. She stood there, with her back still to her children, the nannies, and Mick, and waited.

  When Mick walked up behind her, and placed his hands on her small shoulders, the tears that had been on the verge of escape for hours, finally betrayed her. They dropped from her big eyes and rolled down her narrow brown face. Mick heard her sniffle, and knew she was crying. He also knew she was a proud woman and the last thing she wanted was for her children or her staff to see her in tears.

  “My office,” he leaned down and whispered in her ear.

  Roz hesitated again, because she could be as stubborn as Mick. But at the end of the day, she knew they had to resolve this! She walked to his home office. He followed her.

  The nannies looked at each other. “My money’s on her,” the head nanny said, and the younger nanny grinned in agreement.

  Once inside the office, Mick closed the door. Roz angrily tossed her briefcase up on the desk and kept her back turned as she tried frantically to wipe away every tear. She didn’t want him to see her crying over his ass when he didn’t even bother to so much as answer his phone! But then she exhaled, put on her best strong face, and turned around and faced him. She hated being emotional and vulnerable like this. But Mick’s shit kept taking her there!

  Mick knew she was more hurt and sad than angry, but he also knew that didn’t bode well for their relationship. He hadn’t exactly been the model husband, although he’d been trying, and last night didn’t help. But first he needed info. “Who phoned you?” were the first words out of his mouth when she turned.

  Roz couldn’t believe it. “Really, Mick? Really? Your ass stayed out all night, and that’s what you’re asking me? I’m in bed wondering, not just where my husband could be and what was he doing, but who was he doing it with! And you’re worrying about who phoned me? Get the fuck out of here!”

  “Your anger means you received information. Who phoned and gave it to you?” he asked again.

  Roz knew his ways. She knew he wasn’t about to answer any questions she might have until she answered his. “I didn’t receive a phone call,” she said.

  Mick looked at her doubtfully, although he knew for certain Rosalind was not a liar.

  And she wasn’t. That was why she exhaled, and amended her statement. “I didn’t receive a phone call. I received several phone calls,” she said.

  Mick didn’t expect that answer. He knew one of his children would phone her. They all loved Roz and treated their stepmother with great respect. Mainly because she treated them with love and respect, too, but also because they could relate to her. But all three had phoned her? He expected Joey would, if he had to venture a guess. But Gloria and Teddy, too? “What did they say?” he asked her.

  “Look,” Roz said, her anger rising, “I’m not playing these games with you!”

  “What did they say?!” Mick was angry now too, as his top lip curled and his rage began to reveal itself.

  Roz knew then to get to the point. “They said you left the office because you had to meet some female named Natalie. They said it was most likely business, but they just wanted me to know. They didn’t want me to be blindsided the way they felt their mothers had often been when they were with you.”

  “And you just thanked them for snitching on their old man, and hung up?” Mick asked.

  “I told them they were wrong,” Roz said firmly. “I told them they’d better not call me with that shit again.”

  Mick was pleased, even if he didn’t show it.

  “I know better than to pit children against their father,” Roz continued. “What do you take me for? But when your ass stayed out all night, and didn’t even bother to call me, and didn’t tell me anything?” She shook her head as if she was reliving the pain all over again. “I wanted to phone each one of them and apologize to them.”

  “It was business,” Mick said.

  With a defiant, wide-leg stance that she didn’t even realize she had just taken, Roz folded her arms. “Who’s Natalie?” she asked.

  Mick stared at her. She held the keys to his heart, but that didn’t mean he was going to let her twist it and turn it until it was no longer his own. “I told you I was taking care of business,” he said. “If that’s not good enough for you, and you’d rather turn it into something else, then to hell with it! To hell with you!”

  “Okay, fine,” Roz said, her heart breaking. She turned, grabbed her briefcase off of his desk, and then made her way to the door.

  He grabbed her arm as she was about to hurry past him, and he stared at her until she looked into his eyes. He saw the pain in her eyes when she looked at him, and she saw the regret in his. But they were two very strong, very stubborn people who hated vulnerability. Roz looked down at her arm, which, Mick knew, was her way of telling him to leave her the fuck alone. He released her arm, granting her wish, and she left.

  Mick was so angry that he picked up the small, ceramic globe of the world that sat atop his desk, and threw it against the wall violently, shattering it into tiny pieces.

  But then his cell phone rang. He didn’t want to answer it. All he wanted was his wife back. But he had too many duties and responsibilities to not at least see who was calling. He pulled it out and looked at the Caller ID. When he saw that it was Bella Caine, Gloria’s mother, he exhaled. He didn’t want to hear her shit right now. But he answered. “What is it, Belle?”

  “That’s no way to answer a phone.”

  “What is it?”

  There was a small hesitation in her voice, as she could hear the anger in Mick’s voice. “I’m in trouble,” she said. “Big-time trouble. I’m already in Philadelphia. Will you come and see me?”

  Mick leaned against the edge of his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. He needed Bella and her drama like he needed a hole in the head. But she was the mother of his oldest daughter, and she said she was in trouble. And her trouble could redound to his daughter. He had to help. There was really no two ways about it.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Roz parked her Bentley in the parking lot of her company, the Graham Agency, and looked up at the beautiful building. It was a talent agency, and Roz now had the reputation of being one of the best agents in the business. And although it was her concept and her goal, it was Mick who designed the building and put every dime into its construction. When her own dream of being a Broadway star was as stale and stalled as a broken-down elevator, it was Mick who produced and bankrolled her dream. He gave her career another shot. She was stalled again, when Joe Ranley tossed her from Lean in Love, but at least she got that second chance. And even there, Mick found a way to get to New York and handle that arrogant-ass producer.

  She would most likely briefly shelve her career for now, however, because her agency needed her attention, but it was Mick who still made her dream come true. Hell, she thought, he even bought her the car she drove, and made sure he kept her in Gucci and pearls and treated her like his queen. He was a good man who sometimes made mistakes. He wasn�
�t perfect and neither was she. But that staying-out-all-night-without-calling-her shit was their major issue. It was something she told Mick time and time again she didn’t like and wasn’t going to take. But he kept doing it anyway.

  But as Roz sat there, feeling guilty for being so hard on him before she left for work, she also knew that was part of the problem. She loved Mick so much, and allowed him to be so engrained on her brain, that he was now everything to her. There was not one avenue of her life that he didn’t have his footprints on. And that was why, she also knew, that when he didn’t live up to the image she needed him to live up to it hurt like hell. It made her feel as if she had invested all of her energy into a vessel that just might sink them both. And that, for a woman like Roz, was some scary shit.

  Besides, she wasn’t equipped to be the main chick while her man had all those other chicks on the side. She wasn’t about to go around talking about how he came home to her every night, especially since she’d be lying since he didn’t come home every night; and that she could live with his indiscretions. She couldn’t. She wasn’t built that way. She wasn’t that girl.

  She got out of her car, pressed the key fob to alarm it, and headed for the entrance. She had just entered the lobby when Teegan Salley, her secretary, hurried from out of the onsite café and made her way toward Roz. She had a top-covered cup of coffee in her hand. “I was watching for your arrival,” she said as she began taking Roz’s briefcase from her.

  “What is it?” Roz asked.

  “It’s Dontae. He’s here.”

  Roz was surprised. “Dontae? What is he doing here?”

  “I don’t know,” Teegan said. “He won’t tell me. He called this morning and asked if you were going to be in. He said he heard you were no longer in Lean in Love and wanted to come over. I thought he was coming over to offer you moral support. But that’s not it.”

  “No?”

  “No, ma’am. I’ve never seen that good man in such a bad state!”

  Roz’s heart began to pound. Dontae was one of her biggest success stories, and by far her favorite client. Like her career before she met Mick, he didn’t get any breaks on Broadway either. But for Dontae, his situation had been even worse than hers. After twenty years in the business and fast approaching forty, his prospects of ever getting that break were slim to none. Until Roz took him on as her client. Until she worked every source she had and was able to get him bit parts in play after play, and now his first starring role. Now what, she thought? “Where is he?” she asked, as she unfurled the scarf around her neck.

  “I just put him in the first-floor conference room,” Teegan responded. “I figured you guys could have total privacy down here.”

  Roz handed the scarf to Teegan and Teegan handed her the cup of coffee. “What do you want me to tell your other clients should any drop by?” Teegan asked.

  “Since none of them have an appointment, either, tell them they’ll need to make an appointment. I’ve got a backlog of work already,” Roz said, and headed for the downstairs conference room.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Teegan said with a smile, and then made her way toward the elevators. The lobby security guard, who had eavesdropped on parts of the conversation, smiled too. “One thing about Boss,” he said as Teegan walked past him.

  “What’s that?” Teegan asked.

  “She don’t play,” the guard said, and both of them laughed.

  But inside the conference room was anything but joyous. Dontae Pryor sat in one of the side chairs that faced the door with his hands clasped on top of the table, and his head down. Even the opening of the door didn’t disturb him.

  Roz left the door open as she made her way toward the table. She wasn’t certain if he was blaming his decidedly downcast mood on something she might have did or didn’t do. She learned long ago to never take any chances.

  She decided to sit down beside him. Just in case he was now an enemy, she wanted to, literally, keep her enemy closer. She reached out the cup of coffee to him. “Want some?” she asked.

  It was the first time he actually looked up at her. “I’m good,” he said.

  But she could tell he was a long way from good. He was an extremely handsome African-American actor, with smooth dark-brown skin, soft hair in a low-cut fade, and the biggest, most alluring brown eyes in the business. And one of the best actors, too. Dontae was the total package. But today he looked devastated. “What’s wrong?” Roz asked him in that motherly voice her clients were accustomed to.

  Dontae was about to speak, but then he shook his head and wiped away a tear that had escaped.

  Now Roz was even more worried. “What is it?”

  Dontae exhaled. “I was fired,” he said.

  Roz was dumbstruck. “Fired?”

  Dontae looked at her. “Wes fired me.”

  Roz was puzzled as hell. “But why? You’re the star of the show. Critics are saying you could get nominated for a Tony for crying out loud! Why would he fire you, Dontae?”

  “Some girl lied on me,” he said, “and he believed her.”

  Oh, great, Roz thought. That reason! The hardest reason in the world to overcome and get an actor reinstated. She removed the top off of the coffee. Teegan knew she liked hers black, so she assumed that was what this was. She took a sip. It was black, but bordering on cold, too. “Tell me what happened,” she said.

  “You know he talk a lot of crap about you,” Dontae said.

  Roz was thrown. What in the world did she have to do with this? Was this fool trying to make this about her? “Excuse me?” she asked.

  “Wes,” Dontae said. “He talks a lot of crap about you. He said the only reason you got your career off the ground was because of your husband’s money. He said you couldn’t act your way out of a paper bag.”

  Because Roz wasn’t taking the bait, and was just staring at him, Dontae continued. “He said your husband was in the mob, and that was the real source of his money, not Sinatra Industries. Sinatra Industries, he said, was just a front. Then he had the nerve to say that he was too ethical to take mob money. That implied, to me anyway, that he was trying to say that you weren’t ethical at all.”

  Roz continued to stare at Dontae. She couldn’t believe this old-ass man was sitting up here playing that high school shit with her. Who did he think he was dealing with? “Tell me what happened,” she said again.

  She could tell Dontae was surprised that she didn’t take the bait at all, but then he seemed to realize whom he was dealing with. Roz was all business when it came to her business. “One of the chorus girls claimed I was harassing her,” he said.

  “Sexually?” Roz asked.

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Damn,” Roz said, exhaling.

  Dontae seemed offended. “You ain’t gonna even ask me if it’s true?”

  “What the fuck does that matter? The accusation is enough to sink your career!”

  “But it’s not true. That bitch just wants money.”

  “Money? Fame? It doesn’t matter, Dontae! It’s not about her. It’s about what this is going to do to your career.” Roz pulled out her cell phone.

  Dontae seemed suddenly disturbed. “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m calling Wes,” she said, as she searched in her phone’s contact list for his name.

  Dontae tried to smile. “You know how he is,” he said. “You know he’s gonna lie.”

  Roz didn’t even look up. “You mean like you’re lying to me now?” she asked as she found the number and pressed the button. She placed the phone on Speaker as the other line began to ring. Then she looked at Dontae. She’d never seen this whiny, unsure side of him, and she didn’t like what she was seeing.

  “Why would you say I’m lying to you?” Dontae asked, but with far less confidence than before. “But for real, Roz. Why would I lie?”

  “You’re either lying,” Roz said, “or not telling me the full story. Either way, I don’t like it.”

  Then Wes Welling, the di
rector of the Broadway musical of which Dontae was the star, came on the other line. “I can’t help you, Roz,” he said.

  “What happened?” she asked him.

  “Dontae didn’t tell you?”

  “I’m asking you.”

  There was an exhale on the other line. “He was harassing one of the girls in the chorus. You know how he thinks he’s God’s gift to women.”

  “You’re on Speaker,” she warned him. “And he’s with me.”

  “Thanks for the warning,” Wes responded. “You could have told me from jump, but at least you told me.”

  “What happened, Wes?”

  “You’re well respected in this industry, Roz, because of your moral clarity,” Wes said. “That’s why it shocked the shit out of all of us when you hooked up with that gangster.”

  Roz frowned. “What’s up with you people? Why are you trying to make this about me? And please keep my husband’s name out of your mouth. Now tell me what happened, Wes.”

  Wes laughed. “Okay, okay, I was just bulling around. You know me.”

  That’s the problem, Roz wanted to say. “He harassed the chorus girl,” she said instead.

  “Right,” Wes said. “But when she confronted him, and told him to knock it off, he slapped her.”

  “That’s a lie!” Dontae blared out.

  Roz looked at him. “You didn’t slap her?”

  “No! I mean, yeah, but only after she slapped me.”

  Roz returned to the phone. “Is that right, Wes? Did she slap him first?”

  “Yeah, but who cares? No man has a right to put his hands on any woman.”

  “Now that’s bullshit,” Roz responded. “She hit him, he has a right to defend himself.”

  “Damn right!” Dontae responded.

  “It’s not allowed on my set. So yes, I fired him, and no, I can’t be persuaded to let him back. Anything else?”

  Roz exhaled. “No,” she said. “But thanks for taking my call.”

  “Any time, Roz, you know that.”

  And Roz ended the call.

  “That’s it?” Dontae asked. “But what about my contract? Couldn’t we fight him on those terms?”