“No, I have a sister too. We aren’t all that close, but yeah. What about you? Do you have any siblings?”
There was a slight hesitation, and Roz could tell Mick was not comfortable speaking so personally. But he asked her. His family background was fair game too. “I had a sister, we called her Sprig, but she died. I have a brother,” Mick ultimately said. “A big brother. Charles Sinatra.”
“Oh, okay. Is he from around here, or---”
“No. He’s from Maine. He lives in Jericho, Maine. Where we were born.”
“Jericho, Maine,” Roz said. “Never heard of it.”
Mick didn’t skip a beat. “Thank your lucky stars,” he said.
Roz smiled. “Are you and Charles close?”
Mick didn’t hesitate this time either. “No. Not at all.”
Roz waited for more, but no more came. “Your folks still living?”
Another flash of something in Mick’s eyes. He didn’t even speak this time. He just shook his head.
“Mine are alive and well,” Roz said.
Mick seemed pleased to hear this. He looked at her. “Are you and your parents close?”
“My father and I are. He’s a musician. He travels around the country playing different gigs. He always stays with me when he’s in town.”
“Perhaps he is the reason you have your show business thirst.”
Roz nodded. “That’s what he figures too. I don’t know.”
“What about your mother?” Mick asked. “Are you and she close?”
Roz shook her head. “No. We don’t get along at all.”
Mick understood family hurt and pain, and he wasn’t about to go there with her. He had too many rocks unturned in his own life to be turning over someone else’s. “Any more auditions on the horizon?” he asked her: safer ground.
“Yes, actually,” Roz said. “And I’m very hopeful about them. But we’ll see.”
“Your hope springs eternal.”
“And eternal and eternal,” Roz said with a laugh. “Yes, it does. It always will.”
“Good,” Mick said, meaning it.
And then he leaned his head back. With his lazy eye, and his overflowing eyelashes, he appeared to be asleep. But he wasn’t. He just felt at peace whenever he was around Rosalind.
Roz stared at him. She didn’t realize he was staring back. But the concern in her eyes surprised him. He would have thought that she would behave as if she was sitting on easy street now that she had his attention, but the opposite seemed to have developed. She seemed as if she was slightly more uncomfortable, and unsure how to behave, as if the street had not gotten easier, but harder. As if his extraordinary wealth was a curse, not a blessing. What shocked Mick was how right she was. What shocked Mick was how determined he was to make sure she didn’t live that curse.
He was about to sit his glass on the tray, escort her downstairs, and tell Deuce to take her home. Get her away while he still could. But she spoke first.
“Have you eaten?” she asked him.
Mick’s eyes opened wider. He suddenly realized he hadn’t eaten a thing all day. “No,” he said.
“Why don’t you go lay down and rest for a little while? There’s a kitchen in this place, I’m sure. I’ll fix you something to eat.”
Mick studied her. He had a dinner date in a couple of hours with a few of his business partners. Why was he even considering her offer? But he wasn’t only considering it, he was accepting it.
“Sounds good,” he said, and stood up. “Sure you’ll be okay?” he asked her.
“I’m positive.”
“The chef can come up, if you would like some assistance.”
But Roz shook her head. “I know my way around a kitchen, thank you,” she said, and Mick laughed. And he sipped the last of his drink, sat it back down, and headed for the bedroom.
Roz headed for the kitchen. Her only hope, as she opened the massive refrigerator, was that there was practical food inside. She could cook, but she didn’t do fancy. She was saved. Plenty of ordinary food. All kinds of food, in fact. She smiled. She felt perfectly at home.
An hour later, Mick was snoring, sleeping like a baby, as she made her way to his bedroom. All she had to do was to follow the snores. What threw her, when she got there, was that he was naked in bed, lying on his back. His penis was asleep too, but it was still undeniably huge. And his abs, and his thighs, and his muscular arms and chest. And thinking about what that penis did to her before, and what it could do to her again, caused her vagina, not tingle, but pulsate with sensual joy. Because the thought, that she was going to turn him down if he wanted some, was preposterous to her now. She wanted to throw herself on him. That was how badly she wanted him. But she kept her composure. She walked up to his bed, and gently called his name.
CHAPTER NINE