The Full Moon Speakeasy

CHAPTER FOUR: Date with a Mob Boss II

“Well, I do suppose that covers all possibilities,” Lucille finally responded before taking  a long sip of her champagne, as though it would hide the redness of her cheeks. “Other than the possibility I could be like Jane Austen.” 

Noah’s head c****d to the side. “In what way?” 

“Her life wasn’t at all about romance, from what can be proven. She gave herself to her craft and lived out her days as a spinster, writing and enjoying her life as she saw fit.” 

His eyes narrowed and he continued to study her as the waiter presented their meals of choice. As soon as the waiter was away, he leaned forward. “I don’t believe that to be a possibility, either.”

“And why is that?”

“Because your eyes give you away,” he answered simply enough. 

Lucille wants to say he’s absurd, that there’s no way he could possibly tell whether or not she’s a romantic because of the look in her eyes. But the argument died within her before it ever touched her lips because she wasn’t a Jane Austen type. Lucille wanted romance, of course, but it had always felt like a far away dream to her. “So, what do you think is the most likely answer, then?”

“The last,” he smirked. “But perhaps that’s my own ego getting in the way. Riding on the hope that I’m special to you already.” 

“That does sound pretty egotistical. But I shouldn’t expect anything less from a mob boss, should I?” 

His eyes gleamed in her direction as he sliced into his steak. “No, you shouldn’t.”

She took her spoon and sliced through the creamy, soft dessert. Of course, it was perfect. It had the right balance of cake, vanilla, and coffee. At least, from what she assumed. Lucille had never had such a thing before, but had heard about it ever since she moved to the city. It was as rich and delicious as people described it to be. However, as she started to get a second bite, she became all too aware that nothing else had been said. It was her turn to say something, to ask a question, but what was she supposed to ask? Her mind was fractured between wanting to get real answers out of him brazenly without regard for potentially upsetting him. Though, he did say he liked her spunk. Perhaps no one else was willing to talk to him like a person anymore; they talked to him only as The Lupo. 

That made a question spark in her mind. “So, how did you get the nickname Lupo?” When he eyed her, almost looking surprised, she shrugged. “You said I would find out on this date.”

He chewed his steak as he stared. Luci was becoming too aware of her heart beating, almost enough to count them. Noah cut into his steak again and then finally answered, “With wolves, it is believed that there is a leader. Tougher and cleverer than all others. That would be the wolf. The Lupo. It’s a title of respect.” 

Something felt off about his words. There was more to them than just a metaphor. Maybe it was a vicious warning that only sounded alluring because it was spilled from his lips, and coded in charm and deception that wouldn’t become clear to her for some time. It fascinated her even though she was aware, it shouldn’t. She should be running for the hills. Yet, she leaned in. 

“And what exactly makes you entitled to such respect and a title?” Luci questioned. 

Noah leaned forward as well, the soft lights in the restaurant were sparkling in his eyes. The green hues truly looked like fine jewels that someone like Luci had only ever heard of in fairytales of wealthy princesses and sterling knights. Was he a knight? Was he something else? 

“You’re a very curious woman,” Noah replied, his lips twitching into a slight smirk. 

“Wouldn’t have to be if you weren’t so… bizarre.” 

He remained leaning forward, his gaze burning into her. The silence then held words he wanted to say, but for some reason wouldn’t utter. A sigh sounded and his eyes narrowed. “If I asked you to give me more time to explain that, would you?” His tone was low, holding a semblance of pain that was as unexplained as everything else. 

Luci was feeling woozy, as though she had too much champagne; but she hadn’t had a full drink yet. The air felt heavy and time was slipping away from her. All there was, and all there had ever been, was Noah. 

Maybe I have had too much to drink… Why else would I feel like this?

“I thought this was only supposed to be one date?” she managed to get out through the sudden haze that had seized her. 

“Only if you want it to be just one,” he answered simply. “Is that what you want, Lucille?” 

“No,” she replied. The word jumped from her throat before she so much as thought about it. Did she really want another date with him? So far, it didn’t seem like there was any reason to other than he was attractive and charming. That was usually enough to qualify another date. However, Luci knew he was dangerous—  and likely far more dangerous than she could comprehend. 

She was a pesky little fly, completely that the beautiful strands of fine silk that glistened in the moonlight was the web of her own destruction. And yet, she was willfully submitting to it. Her mind couldn’t land on a reasonable rationale. Was she that bored, or maybe truly that captivated by a total stranger? No, it felt like something more. Something tangible. She owed it to herself to figure out exactly what it was. Because, no matter how cliche or absurd the thought seemed, Luci couldn’t get it out of her head: 

What if he is my reason for coming to New Borough? 

Noah sat back at last and raised his champagne flute toward her. “To a second date, then.”

With her cheeks burning, Luci lifted her own glass and clanked it against his. Their eyes were still in a deadlock as they sipped their bubbly. Out of pure nervousness, she finished the champagne. Maybe she was longing for a feeling that made the others make sense. Feeling so sentimental over a man she had only met an hour before would only make sense to a drunkard. “So, what about this second date?” she asked. “When shall it be?” 

“Why don’t we focus on the night before us?” he replied in a purr as he poured more champagne into her flute. “The night is still young, mon cheri.”