Black and Blue Read online

  Black and Blue

  Paige Notaro

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE-Gabrielle

  CHAPTER TWO-Sean

  CHAPTER THREE-Gabrielle

  CHAPTER FOUR-Sean

  CHAPTER FIVE-Gabrielle

  CHAPTER SIX-Sean

  CHAPTER SEVEN-Gabrielle

  CHAPTER EIGHT-Sean

  CHAPTER NINE-Gabrielle

  CHAPTER TEN-Sean

  CHAPTER ELEVEN-Gabrielle

  CHAPTER TWELVE-Sean

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN-Gabrielle

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN-Sean

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN-Gabrielle

  Thanks!

  Other Novels

  Copyright

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or copied without the express written consent of the author. This book is licensed for personal use only.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  ©2015

  Paige Notaro

  Cover Design:

  ©2015

  SilverLight

  Also by Paige Notaro

  Storm’s Soldiers MC:

  Black and White

  Grey

  Clear

  Other:

  Uncaged

  I love hearing from fans!

  Here’s how you can reach me:

  www.facebook.com/PaigeNotaroAuthor

  [email protected]

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my loving family who suffer through my manic writing sprees.

  It is dedicated to my friends and fellow authors who have helped so much through this journey.

  Most of all it is dedicated to my fans. Thank you for reading!

  CHAPTER ONE

  Gabrielle

  I didn’t much like drunk guys, but I loved serving them at work.

  There’s that magic level of inebriation where they’ve had just enough to think they own the world. A few compliments can earn you an oversized tip or, better yet, add another two hundred dollar bottle of wine to their bill. Best of all, there’s no risk of them going overboard - not in a Michelin one star restaurant .

  Giuseppe’s dinner shift was coming down off its peak. The white tablecloths mostly held emptied glasses of wine or desert plates and tiny cappuccino mugs. The conversations roared like warm winter fireplaces at the bigger tables. At the smaller tables, it tinkled soft and sharp like the lights scattered from the delicate crystal fixtures overhead.

  “Any white whales out there?” Jada asked as she bussed a couple empty plates past the bar. Fat white guys always tipped the best.

  “I’ve got a few I’m chasing.”

  “Good hunting then.” She beamed at me and sifted through the kitchen doors.

  Behind the counter, Matt was filling a half dozen tiny aperitif glasses for one of my tables. This particular party had gone through three bottles of our second best red already. A bit more and their generosity might extend to me. The money would be nice, but winning felt much better. They didn’t hand out grades at restaurants so tip totals would have to do.

  There was also that little part of me that took good tips as a sign that I could be running a place like this of my own someday. Childish nonsense, of course. As if bad service was the reason for that ninety percent restaurant failure rate.

  Jada took a breather by me. “You see that chubby guy?” She ticked her head at a table.

  “Yeah, I see him. Why?”

  “Tried to get me to sit on his lap.”

  “No!”

  I glared at Jada, waiting for her face to erupt into one of those ‘gotcha’ smiles. I’d spent twenty years chipping away at the exaggerations that came out of her. She remained scowling at her customer though.

  “Did you talk to Terry?” I asked. “You shouldn’t stand for stuff like that.”

  “I don’t want to make a fuss,” she said. “Do you go report it when it happens to you?”

  “What? That’s never happened to me!”

  “Can the indignation, girl.” Jada gave me a once-over that ended with an eye roll. “You damn well know you’d deserve it more than me.”

  Heat erupted in my cheeks. Jada had no problem speaking her mind, so I’d have to be embarrassed enough for both of us.

  Ok, sure on the surface, I could admit, she was curvy and that I was thinner, but that was it. I looked like any other girl from our part of Detroit: skin like milk chocolate, middle of the pack in height, somewhere between a toothpick and an hourglass in shape. Jada might say I looked like royalty, but that was mostly so she could feel good hanging with me.

  “You’re just gonna let that pervert go then?” I asked.

  “Oh, he’s gonna pay for my lap time, but I’ll take that in hard cash. I’m not gonna beat you tonight, but I actually need the money, you know.”

  “I could use the money, too,” I said, feeling another flush of heat.

  Her annoyed looked swung from the man to me. Yeah, I’d use that money alright - on iTunes and clothes, not tuition like her.

  I grabbed the tray of drinks and bustled off. Jada and I might share a room at Ann Arbor during the school year, but being in Detroit reminded me of the vast difference in the places we’d come from. My parents knew her mom, but we’d been living in Grosse Pointe forever. She’d grown up in Highland Park: miles away, but worlds apart. That was this city in a nutshell.

  Jada was back working the table by the time I returned to the bar. I watched her smile and laugh with the fat old man who had grabbed her earlier. Part of me envied her for being able to do that, but most of me just wanted to shake my head at the way she flirted with danger. Dad always said that people should spend more time thinking about what they had to lose instead of what they stood to make. The world would be a less dangerous place.

  I supposed there wasn’t much danger to be had here.I just couldn’t imagine smiling at a man who had touched me without my permission. He had already shown his colors, and those colors were disgusting - inside and out, in this case. His belly nearly billowed out of his seat.

  A couple of my tables left the restaurant, gracing me with outsized tips. I beamed as I brought the slips back to the register.

  “I hear you’re killing it tonight,” Alice said, when I visited her at the hostess booth. “You selling drugs under the table or what?”

  “Oh definitely. I’m Ms. Danger over here. It can’t be that I’m just likable.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Alice threw me her most matronly look, which didn’t really work with her round baby face and fiery red hair. “It must be all that humility.”

  I shrugged. Pleasantness and modesty had never seemed close cousins to me. People at fancy restaurants didn’t want a waitress to chit chat with. They wanted someone who could listen and serve well, like people in other parts of their life. I could understand their world enough to know my place in it.

  “There’s no one new, huh?” I asked, eying the empty waiting room.

  “Na, looks like it’ll be about it for the night.”

  “Well I’m down to one table. Get me first if someone comes in.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Just as I started back into the restaurant, the door whooshed open. A warm summer gust blew in, and I smiled and turned. Guess this was my lucky night.

  The smile cracked on my lips when I saw our newest guests.

  Five rough looking white men had tumbled in, all red and grim faced. One of the guys wore a cheap brown suit and had his hair slicked back, but the rest were all in jeans and streetwear. A couple
of them had on oversized band t-shirts and looked around with listless red eyes. Another’s shirt didn’t even have any sleeves.

  The last…the last was at least better dressed. He rose a good couple inches above his buddies and wore a thin leather jacket that dangled open down his center. He had a hard, sculpted face, though parts of it held red blotches and blue bruises. One of his cheekbones was covered with a thin bandage. Despite the damage, he wore a smile like a crocodile: wide and ferocious and barely masking his hunger.

  This guy marched up to Alice, who looked to have just barely finished gulping.

  “Good evening…gentlemen,” she said. “Do you have a reservation?”

  “Can’t say we do,” the man boomed, still with that mischievous smile. “We’re out for a celebration, and I noticed you have room.”

  “We, uh, may,” Alice said, peeking back more to identify that there were tables empty in this guy’s line of sight. “But, uh, there is a dress code, and I’m afraid your party is not quite meeting it.”

  The guy found the sleeveless target of Alice’s gaze. “Oh, Rudy, man. Where’s you jacket?”

  “I ain’t wearing no fucking jacket in fucking June.”

  I thought I might have heard some forks screech on porcelain behind me.

  “Just put mine on so we can eat,” the big guy said.

  “Um…” Alice said.

  “Fine,” the sleeveless bro said. “Give it over.”

  The tall guy yanked off his jacket and slung it back to his friend. He had on just a simple black t-shirt underneath, but I found myself mesmerized by the way he filled it out. I’d seen guys from the U Mich football team in classes, but this guy was something else. His chest thrust out, but his stomach lay flat and rippled. His shoulder and arms threatened to burst the seams of those dark sleeves.

  He’s dangerous, I thought to myself. This was a guy built for action.

  “So,” he was saying to Alice. “We’re all set. Is our table ready?”

  “Alright,” Alice said. “Let me just find you a server.”

  “What about her?”

  I’d been standing a few feet away like a deer who’d heard a branch cracking. My heart stalled when those emerald eyes lifted onto me. His powerful jaw seemed to tighten a little bit more as he took me in.

  “Uh, one sec,” Alice said.

  She came up to me. “Hey, I’ll get you the first one tomorrow,” she said. “You don’t have to take on these guys. I’ll find one of the men to get their table. Or maybe I can talk to Terry and get them to leave. Who knows if they can even pay?”

  The guy’s eyes had not left me, and now they had sharpened to slits that seemed to bore into my mind. Alice was wrong. This guy might be some sort of thug, but he wasn’t dumb. He wouldn’t walk in here expecting to dine and dash. If I saw him on the streets I would cross the other way, but he couldn’t do anything too bad here. His friends looked like idiots, but I could tell he had a handle on them.

  And I could handle him.

  “No,” I whispered to Alice. “Don’t worry, I got this.”

  She gave me a terse nod. I took a deep breath, stepped right up to leader of my new guests and beamed.

  “Welcome to Giuseppe’s, gentlemen,” I said. “I’d be happy to take you to your table.”

  “I’m happy to let you,” the guy said.

  Even as I turned and walked them through the room, my spine ran with a chill.

  I liked to plan things out and understand dangers before they cropped up, but there was something happening here that I couldn’t quite grasp. Despite the bright lighting of the restaurant, and despite all the people here, I couldn’t shake the feeling that things could spin out of control very fast.

  I’d have to keep my guard up tonight.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Sean

  They put us off in a corner like we were trash. Of course, we were, but tonight this trash had cash, courtesy of my right hook here.

  I kissed each knuckle as my boys drank in my winnings around me. All the tables around us were clear like some quarantine zone, but our voices and laughter still carried over it. A few of the rich assholes further off shot Silvio looks as he set the table off again with an impression of the chump I’d knocked out. Once they found my face grinning back, they snapped around so quick you’d think I’d hit ‘em with a roundhouse.

  I was starting to be glad we’d come here. Troy had been the one who’d convinced us to hit up a fancy joint instead of one of our usual haunts. With any luck, I’d be causing chaos in places like this more and more often.

  “How you doing, my man?” Troy asked, tossing an arm around me. His suit jacket was tucked neatly around the elegant back of his chair, but his cotton shirt was drenched with sweat. Truth was, I’d taken a few good hits, but feeling that damp cloth chilling my neck might have been the worst of all.

  “I’m great,” I said, shrugging him off. “I’m feeling fucking lovely.”

  “Yeah? Then why ain’t you drinking? Come on, Louie is putting in twice as much as you are.”

  “That’s cause Louie is higher than a damn hot air balloon,” I said.

  The guy had nearly collapsed out of his seat in laughter, his redneck face even redder without air. Silvio snickered next to him.

  I shook my head. Fucking potheads, that’s all these two were, but Silvio was my boy and I was glad to have him and his friend here lightening the mood.

  “Alright, alright,” I growled to Troy, picking up my wine glass. “Salut.”

  The wine puckered up my tongue as it washed down. Why the hell had this bottle cost a hundred bucks? Give me Guinness over this any day. The fancy wine waiter had nearly popped his eyeballs when I asked for a pint though.

  Right then, I spotted another tall glass of dark goodness heading my way. Our waitress picked her way past tables towards us with three servers in tow weighed down by our orders. Her eyes met mine for an instant, and I saw the rich amber of them. Somehow they came to rest not quite on me but above me, attentive but distant. Maybe it was a fancy restaurant thing, or maybe she just used to ignoring rich geezers eye banging her.

  She probably got plenty of it, with her soft little heart-shaped face, her slick dark hair tied up behind her and that rich immaculate skin that glowed like darkened honey in the room light. I didn’t much go for dark meat, but the sight of her had had me watering since I’d walked in. It gave all my unused adrenaline a point of focus.

  “Alright, gentlemen,” she said, beaming a Cheshire smile at each of us. “We’ve got two spaghettis with Bolognese.”

  “Right here,” Silvio said, jabbing his finger at himself and Louie.

  “Excellent. A lasagna.”

  “Yeah,” Rudy said, grabbing the plate from the Mexican server himself. The way our waitress went bug-eyed, I figured the thing must be scorching, but Rudy’s gruff look didn’t change any. He started shoveling food into his gullet.

  “Ok, a veal primavera.”

  Troy snapped his fingers at her. “That’s me, sweetheart.”

  “And finally, two porterhouses.”

  I waited in anticipation. Not for the food, but for the girl’s eyes to flicker to mine once again. As they did, I flashed my eyebrows.

  The girl’s breathing stopped a moment before she forced it back. It was quick, but I knew a feint when I saw one. She had noticed me. Of all the effects my actions had had that night, this one I relished the most.

  “Well,” she said. “I hope you enjoy guys. If you need anything else-“

  “This is so fucking good,” Silvio moaned with sauce covered lips. “Just get me two more of these.”

  “I, uh-.” She glanced at me for instructions before she caught herself. “Really? Two more?” she asked Silvio.

  “Just get him another,” I said.

  “Sure, sure. Anything else, you let me know.”

  “I need something,” I said.

  “Yes, sir?”

  That threw me off. No one had ever calle
d me sir. Well, outside of court, at least.

  “Never mind,” I said. “For now, just stop calling me sir.”

  “No problem.”

  She turned and started away. I started slicing the steaming meat on wood pallets before me, but then her voice hit me again.

  “What should I call you then?” she asked.

  The corner of her mouth crept up. The game was on.

  “Sean,” I said. “That’s what I want to hear out of your mouth.”

  “Alright Sean. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

  “Tell me what I call you.”

  “It’s Gabrielle.” She pointed at her name tag, looking confused.

  “No way you go by all that,” I said. “What do your friends call you?”

  She swayed in place a moment, looking childish. “Gabi,” she said, then turned and headed off through the tables.

  I sat entranced by the sight of her firm rear bouncing away behind that dark curtain of a skirt. The steaks lay completely forgotten.

  “You gonna hit that?” Troy asked.

  “Oh, I want to do all sorts of things to her,” I said.

  “One girl?” Louie asked. “Come on, you gotta get up in at least two, three tonight. Get all that energy out of your system.”

  Spaghetti hung out of his mouth like Lady and the Tramp. I doubted that guy knew what a workout felt like outside of gym class at school.

  “I’ll get whoever I want,” I said. “Whether that’s one girl or five hundred.”

  “Let the champ get what he wants,” Troy announced, swatting my back again. All that answered him was the snuffling of people inhaling food.

  I tucked into my first steak. The meat oozed with such flavor, I almost forgot the girl, lost in heaven. A couple bites in, though, and the protein set off another hunger in me.

  Our usual victory lap had me in a bar or club by this hour. I never lacked for attention, but still, there was nothing like a fight night. My sweat must ooze pheromones, or maybe it was the bruises that showed what I took and still stayed standing, but all the little kitties came to clump on me. I could pick the ones I wanted to keep for the night.