Mick Sinatra: For Once In My Life

“Thank you, love, but that won’t be necessary. The chef is preparing our breakfast as we speak.”

 

 

Roz looked around. “The chef? What chef? Where is he?”

 

“He’s downstairs, in the chef’s kitchen.”

 

The chef’s kitchen, Roz thought. The chef had his own kitchen? Rich people. “He doesn’t live in either?” she asked.

 

“No. He comes in as needed. He prepares breakfast for me when I’m in town and bother to eat it. Dinner when I request it. He should be serving us momentarily.”

 

Roz smiled. She’d never seen Mick’s kind of wealth before. It was a tad daunting. But then she thought of something wonderful, if it was true. “Carolyn said I’m the first guest you allowed to stay in your main house.” She looked at him. “That true?”

 

Mick hesitated, and then turned the page. It said something about him, he knew, that he wasn’t sure he wanted exposed. But he wasn’t going to lie to her. “It’s true,” he said. Then he looked at Roz.

 

Roz considered him. “Why me?” she asked. “Why make me the first?”

 

Mick decided to be blunt with her. “My previous female guests were here for their entertainment value,” he said. “They stayed in one of the guest houses and I visited them there. You’re here for your value. You stay with me.”

 

He treated her better than any other man ever had. This so-called bad man. “Thank you,” she said.

 

Mick leaned over and kissed her again. He could get addicted to her taste.

 

And after breakfast, a very hearty breakfast for both of them, Mick walked Roz out of his front door, across the sidewalk, and into his warehouse-size garage. They entered from a side door, and he closed the door behind them.

 

“Wow,” Roz couldn’t help but say.

 

The garage was filled with six different cars. Four of the cars were classic cars and looked as if they had never been driven a day in their existence. The other two cars, a white Bentley and a black car that looked like a bat mobile to Roz, were not only modern, but looked brand spanking new. “What’s that?” she asked as she stared at the bat mobile.

 

“The full title?”

 

“Please.”

 

“That is a Lamborghini Veneno Roadster. A V12. 220 mph. A beauty.”

 

“It is that,” Roz agreed. “So you’re a car enthusiast, Mick?”

 

“On a mild scale, yes. I don’t have time to be all-in. Not right now.”

 

Roz smiled. “A car enthusiast who never drives a car.”

 

Mick laughed. “I drive.”

 

“Every time I see you,” Roz pointed out, “Deuce or some other chauffeur is driving you around.”

 

“Only when I’m working. When I am at leisure, I drive myself.”

 

“In the Lamborghini?”

 

“Sometimes,” he said, and handed her a key fob.

 

“Now, wait a minute, Mick. I’m no expert driver like that. That car is probably way too fast for me.”

 

“It’s not for the Lamb,” Mick said with a smile. “It’s for the Bentley.”

 

“Oh, the Bentley!” Roz shook her head. “I should have known you weren’t crazy enough to entrust your million dollar car in my inexperienced hands. I live in Brooklyn. When do I get to drive? I am so embarrassed.”

 

Mick laughed and put his arm around her waist. “Don’t be,” he said. “The Bentley, I assure you, is no slouch either.”

 

“I’ll handle it with care, don’t worry.”

 

“I’m sure you will. While I’m at work, I want you to go. See the city. Visit your friends.”

 

Roz frowned. “How did you know I had friends in town?”

 

“You Googled me. I Googled you.”

 

Roz smiled. “Very funny. But Google wouldn’t know. . . Wait a minute. Did you? You investigated me, didn’t you?”

 

He paused before responding, unsure how she would react. “Yes,” he said.

 

“Why? What was the concern? That I was FBI?”

 

Although Roz was joking, Mick wasn’t. “Yes,” he said.

 

And just like that Roz remembered who she was dealing with. He was no run-of-the-mill boyfriend. There was no telling what he could be involved in. “Just tell me this,” she said. “You aren’t into drugs, are you?”

 

Mick was pleased to respond. “No.”

 

“Have you ever been into drugs?”

 

“When I was a young thug, I was into everything.”

 

“Including drugs?”

 

“Everything,” Mick said.

 

“But you’re legitimate now. Right?”

 

Mick stared at her. She knew better. He could see in her eyes that she knew he was not and probably would never be one hundred percent legit. “Yes and no,” he said truthfully.

 

Roz exhaled. “It’s like I’m living in a fairytale right now,” she said. “But there’s a part of it that’s kind of nightmarish still.” She looked at him. “It’ll take some getting used to.”