Directing Disaster

The second call had come from Jess, just days after the incident with Jake.  She’d called because a guy she’d gone out with a couple of times wouldn’t take “get lost” for an answer.  He was hanging around, following her to and from school.  Sitting in his car at all hours of the day and night, just down the block, watching the house.  She’d called Ben and he’d taken the little twerp out for lunch.  Ben was Italian, the whole city thought his family was mobbed up, and he wasn’t above using that paranoia to his advantage.  He’d intimidated the kid by taking him to Bellini’s.  Making sure the kid knew he was one of “those” Bellinis.  He’d told the kid that Jess was a friend of his and he’d be very unhappy if anything or anyone upset her.  The kid had almost wet himself, but he’d never bothered Jess again.

Ben hadn’t spoken to Jess in nearly six weeks, not since he’d told Lane he needed a break.  He knew she’d gotten the role.  You’d have to live under a rock not to know that Jess had gotten the roles of Kit and Kate Hart.  He had exchanged angry words with Jess just before he had proposed to Lane.  Jess was still pissed and she wouldn’t call him directly for help the way she’d done in the past.  No, she had called Jamie knowing that he would call Ben.  Ben scrolled though his contacts and hit the call button.

“Jess, where are you?  Are you all right?”

“I’m in the bathtub. I have my Louisville Slugger and my gun.”

“Have you called the police?”  Why had he even asked, he knew the answer.  They never called the police, they just called Ben.

“No.”  And much to his amazement, he heard her sniffle.  There were several things Jess Parker just didn’t do; unless it was written in a script and crying was one of them.

“Stay put.  I can have someone there in a couple of hours.  Can you hold tight for two hours, Jess?”

He was sure that he heard her sniff again, but she said, “Yes.”

He pushed the end call button and dialed again.  “I need a favor.”  He gave the address for Jess’s condo. “Lane’s daughter’s in trouble.  She’s barricaded herself in the master bath.” He paused. “She’s family.  Call me when you have her.”

Chapter 8

That stain’s never coming out

Jess held her gun in both hands as she heard the bathroom door rattling.

“I’ve got a gun and I know how to use it,” she yelled, just as the door burst open and a tall, dark and handsome man burst through it.

She pulled the trigger splattering his $5000 black pinstripe Brioni suit with neon green paint right where his heart would be.  He looked exactly like Ben’s youngest brother Dr. Paolo Raffaele Bellini.  But it wasn’t Pauli.

“Damn, that’s go

“You aren’t Pauli, so who the hell are you?”

“I’m the cavalry, Toots.  I have a car and a jet waiting to whisk you to Kansas.”  He reached out his right hand to help her stand.  “Throw some things in a suitcase.”

He was dialing his phone with his left hand.  “Yeah, I got her.  She looks fine.  I’m not sure she needed the help.  Ha fatto un colpo per uccidere il mio abito.” He said and then held the phone out to Jess.

The Bellinis often had what they assumed were private conversations, in Italian, when others were around.  What they didn’t know was that Jess had bought Rosetta Stone and learned Italian.  She understood every word they said to each other and had for the last two years.  Well, every non-curse word.  Rosetta Stone wasn’t big on curse words.

“Hi,” Jess said quietly.

Ben laughed.  “You’re good?  He says you shot him.”

“I’m fine.  Paint ball.  I don’t know what he’s complaining about, he was missing the fedora anyway.  He said he was the cavalry? Who is he? ”

“That would be Pauli’s twin brother Giuseppe Gabrielli Bellini.  He’s going to bring you home.”

She handed the phone back to the stranger and squinted her eyes.  “How’d you get in here anyway?  I know the place was all locked up.”

“Toots, I’m a Bellini.”

“Jess.  My name is Jess.  And, Bellini or not, I still don’t know how you got in here.”

He shook his head. “And I’m not going to give away all of my secrets on a first date.”  He nudged her toward the bedroom. “Get your things.  I promised the old man I’d get you home fast.  So click those ruby red stilettos together three times and let’s get moving.”

He looked like Pauli, but Pauli had been calling and texting her at least three times a day since their first meeting, mooning over her like some lovesick puppy.  This one acted like she was a boil on his ass.

She grabbed a duffle and tossed some things into it.  She zipped it shut and he grabbed it from her hand.  He put his hand in the small of her back and maneuvered her through the condo.  When they got into the living room she stopped in her tracks.  She looked around the room.  “They’re gone,” she whispered.

“Whatever they are I’ll buy you two.  Come on,” he said as he gave her a nudge.  He pulled the door closed behind them and guided her to a waiting limo.

“Go,” he told the driver once they were inside.

He looked at her.  She was just a little bit of a thing.  But damn she was a dead shot.  He was glad it was only a paint ball gun.  He wanted to rub his chest where the bruise was no doubt forming.  But he didn’t want her to know how much it hurt.

She wasn’t at all what he’d expected.  Pauli gossiped like an old woman and had talked about her incessantly since meeting her.  To be honest, he was sick of hearing about her.   But after finding her in her little red dress and her five inch heels, all barricaded up in the bath tub.  With a Louisville Slugger on her left side, paint ball gun in both hands, her big blue eyes wide as silver dollars as she took dead aim at him.  And those eyelashes, maybe he could see the attraction.  Lord, where could you even get false eyelashes like that?

They were at the Long Beach airport in record time.  The driver went straight to a waiting plane.  The driver opened Joey’s door and Joey reached in to help Jess out of the car.

Joey spoke to the driver as he handed him a wad of bills.  “Thanks, Tito.  I’ll call next time I’m in town.”

He’d put his hand in the small of her back and was guiding her toward the private jet.  He nudged her up the stairs.  He nodded to the pilot.  “Did you file the flight plan to Johnson County?”

The pilot nodded.  “We’re good to go.  Is this the package?”

“Yeah, this is it.  Let’s get the wheels up.”

He had maneuvered her into the plane and pointed her toward a chair.  After she sat, he took the seat facing her.

She’d never flown in a private jet, but she could tell this wasn’t just any jet.  It had sofas, tables and the seats reclined, like all the way.  She wasn’t positive, but she’d bet there was a bed just past the half wall behind him.

She narrowed her eyes at him.  Ben had sent him, he was family and he was taking her home, but what the heck? “The package?”  There was something slightly shady about him.  Sure, she’d heard all of the rumors about the Bellinis being mobbed up, but she’d never seen anything that looked so much like a scene from The Sopranos as Giuseppe Bellini in that black pinstripe suit.

She thought she’d try a new tack.  She reached out her hand.  “Maybe we should start over.  I’m Jess Parker.”

He reached across the table and shook her hand.  “Joey Bellini, but I’m guessing the old man already told you that.”

“If you mean Ben, he said your name was Giuseppe Gabrielli Bellini.  I’m sorry about your suit, but I did warn you that I had a gun.”

He smiled at her.  The gold flecks in his whiskey brown eyes flashing along with his million watt smile.  “It’s fine Toots, like you said, I was missing the fedora anyway.”