Big Daddy Sinatra: There Was a Ruthless Man (The Sinatras of Jericho County Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

discover such a peaceful haven too, so he had to enjoy it
while he could.
    He
sat back, unbuttoned his suit coat, and relaxed.   He noticed several attractive women in the
crowd, and spent most of his time watching them.   He had to spend the night in Boston, to
attend business meetings he had tomorrow morning in town, and having a nice,
soft body to warm his bed wouldn’t be a bad option.   But one body in particular, a woman with the
most captivating smile, held his attention the most.  
    And
when he saw her coming toward the haven, after admiring her from across the
room, he crossed his legs and continued to enjoy the view.   There was something about her that radiated
warmth.   Even her walk, where her feet veered
slightly outward, as if she was almost slue-foot, amused him.   She wore a blue skirt suit, not expensive by
any stretch, but well-made, and matching high heels.   The middle section of her jacket was buttoned
up, revealing big breasts that jetted out beyond the form of the jacket, and a
flat stomach that appeared toned and tucked in beneath the button.   But despite the breasts, she was an overall
small woman.   But with curves.   A slender woman with curves.   He was going to enjoy this up close and personal
view, he thought, as she arrived.

 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
    CHAPTER THREE

 
    She
nodded her hello as she sat down in the chair across from him, but it was
obvious she wasn’t there for chitchat.   She slanted her shapely legs sideways, removed one of her high heels,
and began massaging her slender toes.   Relief washed over her pretty face as she massaged.   He first noticed her when she kept declining
various invitations to dance from the men in attendance.   He noticed her within minutes of his arrival
at the reception.   The music was loud,
the ballroom was festive, but she was moving in and out of the crowd like a
woman with more than a party on her mind. She was talking and smiling when it
suited her; listening and looking serious when it didn’t.   He noticed her throughout the evening.   And it wasn’t just because she was the only
African-American in the room, even though that very distinction made her
noticeable in and of itself.   But mainly
because, even from his vantage point far away from her, he thought her
stunning.
    “Feet
bothering you?” he asked her.  
    Jenay
Franklin looked up at the man across from her.   His legs were crossed, he had a glass of wine in his hand, and his suit
was far too expensive to mistake him as Staff.   “I do believe my feet have grown a full inch since I purchased this
particular pair of shoes,” she replied.
    Charles
nodded his head.   “I’m sure that’s the
answer.”
    Jenay
grinned.   “Yes, they are killing me.   And I know it looks strange, massaging my
toes in the middle of a wedding reception, but I couldn’t hold out another
second.”
    “Damn
right,” Charles replied.   “If I had to
walk around in those stilts all day long I’d be rubbing toes too.   Rub away,” he added, lifted his glass in a
toast, and took a sip.
    Jenay
rubbed away, and was pleased that he didn’t find her behavior
objectionable.   But she also took a peep
at him as he sipped his drink.   Late
thirties.   Average height.   Athletically built.   A square-lined jaw and strong chin.   But it was his vivid green eyes and fair skin,
contrasted with his wavy jet-black hair slicked back, that garnered most of her
attention.   Movie stars had nothing on
this man.
    She
wondered which side was he on, because that was the feel in the room.   Two sides coming together, not because they
wanted to, but because they had to.   The
bride’s side were, by and large from what she could decipher, Irish.   And the groom’s side was almost all
Italian.   It would have been easy for her
to assume that he was with the Italians, but she learned later in life to never
assume anything.   “Bride or groom?” she
asked