“Fine. I’ll take you to see her.”
“I don’t think so.”
Streaks of gold sparked in the brown depths of her eyes, tiny bolts of lightning that portended her anger. “I haven’t time for games, not when—”
“No game. We shall see her here.”
Justine folded her arms. “Mr. Mulligan, she has five children to tend. Do you honestly believe she is able to leave them and come traipsing over, merely because you don’t wish to be bothered?”
He hadn’t thought of that, but he wouldn’t budge on the issue. His help, his rules. Always. “The children aren’t my problem. You want Gorcey, then the meeting must be here.”
“I’ll ask her. That’s the best I can do. Perhaps one of her neighbors can watch the children.”
He shook his head. “You misunderstand. You aren’t leaving. I’ll have one of the boys fetch Mrs. Gorcey.”
“They will terrify her! You cannot do that. At least let me go along.”
She stood nearly nose to nose with him, her voice stern like an irate schoolteacher. Or what he assumed a teacher’s voice sounded like, seeing as how he never went to school. Something about that tone and the color on her cheeks got to him. This woman did not give up or back down for any reason. He could feel his body responding despite his better judgment.
God knew she was hardly his usual type. He liked them bold and buxom. Experienced. Not some uptown princess who’d faint in shock if he playfully slapped her arse while screwing her from behind.
“I should leave.” She started down the remaining stairs. “This was a mistake.”
He darted ahead to block her retreat. He moved two steps below her, putting them almost at the same height. “Giving up already?”
“Adjusting my strategy. I had thought, given your reputation for softness toward the female race, that you’d offer your assistance. I have clearly misjudged you.”
“No, but you have misunderstood the way things work around here. I am both the judge and the jury, Miss Greene. If there is a problem with one of my men, then I hear the facts and render a decision. Me and only me. Do you understand?”
She seemed to absorb this, her irritable expression easing ever so slightly. “That implies you are capable of remaining impartial.”
“I am nothing if not fair.”
“Do you know where Gorcey is at this moment?”
“I have a good idea.”
She sighed and stared at the wall. There wasn’t much to contemplate, as he had the upper hand, but he appreciated her thoroughness. This was a woman who avoided rash behavior, who was careful. He was much the same way.
“If you won’t let me fetch her, then I’d like to send along a note to reassure her.”
A smile overtook Jack’s face, stretching the sides of his mouth. “Of course. Come along.”
Jack Mulligan was full of surprises.
During the hour they waited on Mrs. Gorcey, Justine sat across from him in his office, sipping sherry, while Mulligan made polite conversation. He could speak to any topic, from art and culture to politics and classics. He was well-read, intelligent and charming. She could almost forget they were in a boxing club/saloon/criminal headquarters near the Bowery.
All this was a stark contradiction to Mulligan’s dangerous reputation, one he’d earned by consolidating the criminal gangs downtown into one massive empire years back. How he’d done it was the stuff of legend, stories shared in saloons late at night across the city. Justine didn’t know the details but she could assume that cunning, bravery and bloodshed had each played a part.
She let him do most of the talking. This was nothing unusual. Her two older sisters were gregarious and outspoken. Justine, on the other hand, preferred to listen and observe. Not that she was a wallflower, but her energies were best spent helping others. Gossip and fashion bored her to tears. Parties and social calls were a waste of time. How could any of those things matter when most of the city’s residents struggled to provide for themselves and their families?
“Am I boring you?”
She glanced up at Mulligan’s question. “Of course not.” What had he been talking about? Right, the art he’d seen on a recent trip to Paris. “I haven’t been to Paris since I was a girl.”
He cocked a brow, his handsome face turning curious. “I thought all good heiresses went to Paris each year for their wardrobes.”
“I’m not that sort of heiress.”
“What kind of heiress are you, then?”
“The rebellious kind, I suppose.”
“I am noticing that. Here I’ve been trying to impress you and clearly missing the mark.”
“Why would you be trying to impress me?”
“Because I am vain. Not only am I a man in the presence of a beautiful woman, that woman happens to come from one of the best families in the city.”
Beautiful? She nearly snorted. He’d clearly mistaken her for one of her sisters. “You don’t need to impress me. As soon as Mr. Gorcey agrees to take care of his wife, I’ll be out of your way.”
He drank from his glass of beer. A lager, he’d said, one produced by Mamie’s brother-in-law. “Tell me, what does your father think of your charitable endeavors?”
She shifted on the plush seat of the armchair. “Have you met my father?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure but I know him by reputation.”
“Then you’ll understand why I don’t always inform him of my every move.”
“But surely he is aware of your trips downtown.”
“Of course.” She didn’t mention that her father believed she spent her time strictly at the legal aid society with her sister.
He seemed to sense her deception. “Ah, I see.” He chuckled, the lines around his eyes deepening. He must laugh often, she realized, to have those lines. The amusement caused him to appear younger and even more appealing, and warmth slid through her, her stomach doing funny things.
Never mind the boxing downstairs. Mulligan’s looks and charm were a dangerous one-two combination to a woman’s peace of mind.
She hated that he affected her at all. No one, not even her sisters, knew there had been a man in Justine’s life for part of last year. A few years older than her, Billy Ferris had been a plumber’s apprentice. They met when Justine hired Billy’s employer to fix some leaky pipes in a tenement on Mott Street. Billy was sweet and kind, the type of man who never argued or became angry. They’d grown apart after a few months, however, their relationship barely intimate, and she hadn’t been brokenhearted when Billy called it quits.
She never considered marrying him. As she’d learned, married women had fewer rights than unmarried women, ceding everything to their husbands. The wrong choice was disastrous, no matter the name and pedigree of one’s father.
Justine had seen enough results from unfortunate choices to last a lifetime.
Still, she had cared for Billy. If she were to marry, she’d prefer someone boring and predictable, like him. She didn’t care for fireworks and passion. She’d rather have comfort and reliability.
So, why was she noticing Mulligan’s looks and feeling things?
“Tell me of the legal aid society,” Mulligan said, breaking into her thoughts. “Busy, I suppose?”