Had to Be You: Bad Boys of Red Hook Read Online Free PDF Page B

them on. It’s like rooting for the Cubs—you know it’s not going to end well, but it’s always fun to watch.”

CHAPTER 3
    Rocki loved her friend Patrice like a sister. She’d never had one, but she knew from having a brother that sometimes you could love your sibling and want to throttle him or her at the same time. On her way to the stage, she’d given Francis and Patrice a hug, refilled her water, and then started her next forty-minute set. She sang, played the piano, and watched Patrice make a beeline for the hot biker dude whose table Rocki had just left.
    To her amazement, Patrice proceeded to hug and kiss him like they were lifelong friends. Shit. To say that Patrice was known for sticking her nose in everyone’s business was like saying that Congressman Weiner was known for sexting—it was the God’s honest truth. Patrice would know the poor man’s life story before she let him leave the booth.
    Thinking back, Rocki realized she hadn’t even gotten the guy’s name. She’d been too busy mentally divesting him of all clothing to ask pertinent questions. Sometimes she wondered about herself. Was she so sex starved she’d jump the first man who floated her boat? Unfortunately the boat was a naval vessel. Great. She had no problem imagining him in dress whites or out of them apparently. Of course, when it came to men, her one weakness was a man in uniform and if they were sailors, all the better. That was why she always made it a point, during Fleet Week, to stroll through South Street Seaport daily and check out the scenery.
    The trio retired to the same booth she and hot biker guy had shared. The poor man looked as if Patrice had just read him his Miranda rights. What the hell was she up to? And how did she and Francis know him? Sure, the guy said he was from Red Hook, but he’d also said he’d been away for ten years.
    Rocki made it through her set without messing up the words, which was a true miracle, because the entire time, she found her gaze landing on the booth and the man.
    Francis’s discomfort came out strong and clear in the chagrined expression covering his face more often than not. When she caught the flash of Patrice’s satisfied,
I’ve-done-my-duty
smirk, Rocki knew she was in trouble.
    Having Patrice as an ally was always a good thing since the woman’s machinations were ingenious, but Rocki didn’t like being the object of Patrice’s latest intrigue. She needed to put a stop to it and the only way to do that was to avoid the three objects of her interest at all costs.
    Rocki finished her set, gave her taking-a-break spiel, grabbed her water, and hightailed it to the bar without even looking in the direction of Patrice’s latest inquisition.
    “Hey, Simon, do you have time to pour me a drink, or should I come back there and take care of it myself?”
    It was always so much fun to see any of the Crow’s Nest bartenders’ reactions to her offer of help. Simon didn’t disappoint—the man looked like an albino who’d just seen a ghost.
    Rocki knew where her talents lay, and behind the bar was not one of those places. She hated covering for the bartenders, so, in order to avoid that, she might have played up her ineptitude just a bit. It worked—maybe too well. For God’s sake, she didn’t want to give the poor man a stroke.
    “Another Orange Crush, Rocki? Or is there something else you want?”
    She wanted to find out what Patrice was up to, but she refused to ask. She knew Patrice was waiting for her to do just that. “Orange Crush is fine, Simon, and would you refill my water, please?”
    The look of relief was almost laughable. She took a seat at the end of the bar next to Simon’s girlfriend, Elyse. “So, what do you know?”
    Elyse grinned so broadly, you’d think she was starring in a toothpaste commercial. Rocki wished she wore shades. “I know you’re off your game tonight. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you forget the words before.”
    “You forgot the