An Unlikely Elegance: The Velvet Shoe Collection, #5

By Patty Wiseman

Fanny Zapelli dropped the well-penned letter into the fire and watched it shrivel into ashes. The last person she expected to hear from shattered the cozy world she'd built over the past five years.

Jack Grey stepped off the downtown train and back into her life. A life she'd completely transformed from the old mob days. He didn't even recognize her when they came face to face.  

Everything about the old Fanny disappeared long ago, the color of her hair, her speech, the way she dressed. And now, she was the owner of the hottest restaurant in around, The Crystal Daffodil. She chose the name because the meaning of her favorite flower, the daffodil, meant a new beginning.  Her friends, Ruth, Peter, Hattie, and Cal were all instrumental in the transformation of Fanny from mob moll to Miss Z, proprietor of the best restaurant in the county. Her beauty attracted the attention of many men, but she kept them all at arm's length. The heartbreak she experienced in her past didn't allow her to let her guard down, not even for an instant.

Now Jack entered her world and fear of exposure haunted her.

But he wasn't the only one to stir things up. Another admirer persisted in frequenting the restaurant, constantly badgering her to have dinner with him. Gordon Young, a prominent newspaper editor. To get rid of him, she accepted, only to regret her decision.

Even as she juggled the unwanted attention, another man stepped into the fray. Her chauffeur, Melvin. Even though he had not declared his amorous sensitivities, his eyes betrayed his heart with each glance. She knew a confrontation was inevitable.

Jack wasn't the only mob member to return to the city after five years. Moose, her former bow, kept a low profile but watched out for her without revealing himself—even worked for the obnoxious Gordon Young for better opportunity to make sure she stayed safe. But it wasn't enough.

These men cluttered her life as she maintained a cool distance, but someone would soon wreak havoc in her finely crafted life. Terror came to her one night when she found herself trapped in a basement, her captor insisting on marriage.

No matter how much she wanted her unsavory deeds to fade away, she couldn't escape them all. Doubt of her accomplishments permeated her mind, thoughts of only always being just a mob moll haunted her.

Her friends frantically searched for her, accusing those both in her present and in her past of the abduction. The police had no leads. She'd disappeared without a trace.

The experience left Fanny unable to cope and kept the men who loved her at bay, wondering if she could ever be the same again.

In this fifth book of the series, Fanny Zapelli runs the gamut of emotions. From the pride of accomplishment to the crippling self-doubt that gripped her. Fanny might lose everything she worked for if her inner strength failed her.

Her journey is much like our own at times. Could we withstand the pressure of self-doubt without friends and loved ones who care about us? Fanny's aloof, go-it-alone-demeanor may be her end.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patty Wiseman
• Release date: Sep 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9781947946750

Book preview

Velvet Shoe Collection

An Unlikely Arrangement

An Unlikely Beginning

An Unlikely Conclusion

An Unlikely Deception

Success Your Way

Silver’s Redemption

Rescue At Wiseman’s Pond

Book Liftoff

1209 South Main Street

PMB 126

Lindale, Texas 75771

This book is a work of fiction. Therefore, all names, places, characters, and situations are a product of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, or events is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2021 Patty Wiseman

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever.

Book design by Champagne Book Design

Printed in the United States of America

Library Of Congress Control Data: 2021916972

Wiseman, Patty

An Unlikely Elegance / Patty Wiseman.

American—Historical—Romance—Fiction.

20th Century—Historical—Romance—Fiction.

Suspense—Romance—Fiction

BISAC: FIC027360 BISAC: FIC027200. FIC027110

First Edition.

ISBN: 978-1-947946-75-0

www.pattywiseman.com

www.bookliftoff.com

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Title Page

Books by Patty Wiseman

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Epilogue

Fun Facts About an Unlikely Elegance

Preview of Somewhere Between

Acknowledgements

About the Author

I would like to dedicate An Unlikely Elegance to my granddaughter, Savannah Cameron. She is a shining example of how a person who grew up with hardship and disappointment can overcome their circumstances. She pursues her dreams with gusto and stays on the right path, a prime example of triumph over adversity.

Detroit, Michigan 1935

Rare is the woman who can arrest a soul’s self-absorption by an elegant bearing. Ah, these are the women who can change the world. Shoulders squared, the back straight. Amber eyes smolder with a look that commands complete respect. Jack Grey was drawn to the woman the minute he stepped off the commuter train.

Breath took flight from his body the moment those magnetic eyes locked with his.

Oozing confidence, her gaze steadied without a blink. A daring woman who understands her worth.

The awning above the local department store shielded her from the rain this Monday morning giving him opportunity to drink in the complete package. Beige trench coat, collar up, leather shoulder bag, and a stylish fedora hat tipped over one brow.

Someone shoved him from behind. Move it, Mac.

He stumbled. When he regained his balance, she’d disappeared.

Fanny Zapelli spotted him when he stepped off the train. An unsavory memory of the past. A mobster. A man who might bring the world she built down to the ground.

The soaking rain created a blurry vision of him, but the tilt of the hat, the arrogant stance, the stocky build. It was him all right. No doubt. An enemy of the ‘family’ and a rival. Many times, older brother Giovanni plotted to kill him and his followers. He never succeeded.

But it happened a lifetime ago. Her only sibling remained locked in a mental hospital; the gang scattered to the four corners of the world. She was alone.

The law allowed two choices back then. Go to jail or go legit. She chose the latter, took over The Blue Feather, and transformed the sleazy speakeasy into a successful bistro which made a good deal of money. But a large bankroll wasn’t enough, because the dream included an elite restaurant for the rich and famous.

After years of observing and learning, the goal was accomplished. The Crystal Daffodil came to be a symbol of new beginnings. An instant hit. Now, people took her seriously, respected her, looked up to her.

Not only did she transform a crime ridden past, but also affected a change in her appearance, the way she talked and carried herself, even her wardrobe. Longtime friends, Ruth Kirby and Hattie Taylor saw to that. They taught the confidence needed for respect as a woman.

When Jack stumbled, she ducked inside the nearest business and hurried toward the back door. He disappeared years ago, what’s he doing here now?

Did you say something, Miss Fanny? The proprietor of the store asked as they brushed shoulders.

Cultivating relationships in the city was part of the plan for success. Those she smiled on, in turn, frequented The Crystal Daffodil. However, generosity had its downside, as well.

Walking down the street or through an establishment brought the wolves out. Oh, they were on the edge of respectability, but it was a constant struggle to ward off male advances without offending anyone.

Oh, did I say something out loud, Mr. Potts? I’m so sorry. I’m late for an appointment. Decided to take the back way. Just scolding myself. She stopped to pat his shoulder. How is that talented daughter of yours? My invitation for her to sing in my restaurant is still open.

Potts beamed; and his face lit up. Daphne is excited by your request but is terribly shy. I’ll speak to her again. I think nerves override desire sometimes. Singing in your restaurant is definitely the experience needed to pursue a singing career.

Fanny expressed her delight, Good, our clientele will love her captivating voice. Good day, Mr. Potts.

He stumbled over his goodbye, blushed a little, but went about his business.

High heels clacked against the polished wooden floor as she hurried toward the exit. A quick glance back confirmed he didn’t follow. The alleyway was deserted, a perfect getaway.

Back in the high-rise, she told the receptionist to hold all calls, eased into her supple leather chair, and continued to contemplate the arrival of the opposing mobster. Unpleasant memories surfaced of her time as a gun moll and a blues singer in The Blue Feather speakeasy. She spoke to the empty room, Jack Grey. A tie to the bad years. An unwelcome one. I was only a scrawny girl, back then. He knows things. Things best left in the past.

A commotion drew her attention to the window. The chair swiveled as she pushed from its grasp and peered down at the pavement from the third floor. A scuffle between paperboys. Two rivals fighting for control on the same corner. A frown dressed her lips. How well I remember.

Thank God for Ruth Kirby and Hattie Taylor, as well. They rescued me when I didn’t think I needed it. They taught me to be a lady; changed my voice, my bearing, and how to ward off aggression with only a glance.

People said it couldn’t be done, but here I am. A successful, respectable businesswoman. She allowed herself a few seconds more of contemplation. Time for the luncheon crowd. I need to keep my customers happy.

Those who frequented the establishment expected to catch a glimpse of her at least once during their visit. Something of a celebrity because of the signature walk-throughs at lunch and dinner in the current gowns of the fashion world, she let the mystery of success accentuate her popularity. Most diners found this type of entrance a novelty. Her fashion sense provided a good deal of gossip around town because only the latest style from France would do. Thus, new customers came to witness the show and the clientele continued to grow.

Let them ogle. While I provide premium food and atmosphere, I’ll gladly take their money.

Before leaving, she changed into an afternoon two-piece peplum dress. Steel blue with pink accents throughout the pattern. Sleeveless top, skirt mid-calf. A dainty belt at the midriff. Stylish for daytime without being over-the-top. More elaborate attire came in the evening. Her hair even sported a new color. Auburn. A deep burnished shade. When the decision to make a change came, she went all the way. Besides, the particular hue complimented her amber eyes.

Satisfied with the look, she entered the restaurant with confidence. Heads turned, women stared, men drooled. The attention was of no consequence anymore.

Several customers greeted her from their tables. The answer in a smooth, silky voice, and devoid of any accent, assured they hung on every word. For those who weren’t bestowed the honor of a visit, a friendly smile proved sufficient. Somehow, they were satisfied. She knew they would return, hoping for an actual interaction the next time.

At the back of the room, Gordon Young sat at the table to the left, a confident grin adorning his face.

Hello Gordon. You’ve returned once again. I must tell the chef how much you enjoy the cuisine.

Young was an editor for the largest newspaper in town. Distinguished, well-dressed, about forty-years old. He issued an invitation to dinner a few weeks ago. She accepted. An ardent pursuer, he made his desire for a relationship abundantly clear. An arm’s length attitude did nothing to dissuade him.

He stood and reached for her hand. Thank you. You look stunning, as usual. I hope you will take coffee with me later.

The gesture was not reciprocated. My schedule doesn’t allow for many perks in that area. I need to go. I’m late for an appointment.

Gordon sat down, face beaming. He looked around as if to make sure the others in the room witnessed their interaction.

It was impossible to acknowledge everyone, but a sweeping gesture and a small nod of the head to all the diners became the signature move upon her exit. She eased toward the back but was suddenly aware of a stocky man sitting by the unopened door. The man opposite him rose to greet her. He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place the pencil mustached man with dull, thin brown hair.

Can you give me a moment to meet a friend of mine? He nodded toward Jack.

Not today, Fanny moved toward the door.

Jack intercepted, held out his hand, and said, Hello ma’am. Jack Grey at your service.

The slender man started the introduction, This is the owner, Miss—

Fanny cut him off. Z, just call me Miss Z. Everyone does. Stunned to see him again so soon, she recovered fast, but made sure her real name didn’t come out. In a voice that could rival flowing honey, she stood cool, elegant, held his gaze with a steady assurance, and made no effort to shake hands. Lovely to meet you, now if you’ll excuse me. A quick side-step evaded any contact with him.

And then the worst happened; he touched her arm. Wait, I’d like to invite you for coffee. The chair was pulled across the carpet away from the table, and he gestured for her to sit.

To be touched, the one thing Fanny could not abide. A mistake he will pay for dearly. The fine art of a cold rebuff was taught to her long ago. Instead of jerking her arm away, she looked down on the offending hand, then raised her head to stare coldly into his eyes. The honeyed voice became icy. If you will release me, Mr. Grey. The rigid stance held firm until he let go.

A blush spread across his face, I…I’m so sorry. Excitement got the better of me.

A smoldering review up and down his body put the finishing touch on the rebuff.

The room went silent at the exchange, but with her exit, returned to the low hum of patrons conversation.

"What luck! Must be doing something right," Jack declared to his mustachioed friend, Edwin Clark, a high-class lawyer.

If he was taken aback at finding the mysterious woman of this morning standing in front of him, he showed no sign.

Now, Jackie boy, pull in the reins. You offended her. I wouldn’t exactly declare victory. The attorney smoothed his mustache and pursed his brows.

Jack trained his gaze on her as she disappeared through the folding door. Nonsense. I’ll earn her trust in time. She’s just playing hard to get.

The waiter, who’s name tag read Andrew, brought the glass of Cabernet he ordered previously. Have you made your selection, sir?

Yes, uh…, he glanced at the waiter’s tag, Andrew old man, bring me the beef whatever that is. He ran his finger under his choice on the menu.

Right away, Andrew scribbled on the order pad and left.

After a long draught from the wineglass, he surveyed the room as he leaned back in the chair. His gaze fixed on Gordon, witnessed the hope in the man’s eyes, and his dejection at her quick rebuff.

To Edwin, he said, We may have a rival there. Well, not for long. You can bet on it. What Jack Grey wants; Jack Grey gets. And I want her. She’s the classiest broad I’ve seen since my return.

He studied Gordon Young, sizing him up, noticing the expensive suit, the slicked back hair, even the small polka dotted pocket square on his jacket. Fancy; a stickler for details. I know the type. Think they’re uppity, better than the next guy. Well, we’ll see mister, we’ll see.

Look, I want no part of whatever game you’re playing. I thought you wanted to come back and be respectable. You sound like the old Jack. I suggested we come here because the place is high class. You could start over, rub elbows with people with a little money. But you always did work an angle and that’s what I’m hearing now. I’m finished. Edwin stood to leave.

Go on ahead, Eddie boy. I don’t need you now. You opened the door. The rest is up to me. See ya around.

Edwin hesitated for only a second, plunked his money down to satisfy his bill, and hurried away.

Jack didn’t bother to acknowledge his departure.

Andrew brought his meal.

He dove in with gusto, alternating between the food and the wine, all the while keeping an eye on his apparent rival.

When Gordon got up to leave, he made his move.

Standing, he intercepted the man. Hey mister, you gotta light? He pulled out a thin cigar, bit off the end, and pointed it toward Gordan.

Young stopped. Why, er, no. I don’t smoke, sorry. He took one step toward the door.

You work here in town? He pushed the chair beside him into the aisle.

Why, uh, yes, my office is here, Gordon said.

I’m new here. Need to meet people. Why don’t you join me in a cup of coffee? He stood. Name’s Jack Grey. He extended his hand as a conciliatory gesture. Whaddya say?

Well…I need to take my mother to the country. I’m late now. He grasped Jack’s hand. I’m Gordon Young. Nice to meet you. I’m sorry old boy, but I should be going. Maybe we’ll meet again.

He observed Gordon as he hurried away. Oh, we’ll meet again Gordon Young. You bet we will.

He resumed his seat and summoned the waiter. Bring me a piece of apple pie, heavy on the whipped cream.

The young man nodded and hurried off.

While Andrew was gone, he fished inside his suit coat pocket for a piece of paper and pen and scribbled hurriedly.

Upon Andrew’s return, Jack handed him the note. Give this to Miss Z. You can count on a healthy tip if you take it to her.

Yes, sir. I’ll be sure and deliver it.

Satisfied his plan would work, he consumed the pie with relish.

He waited in the restaurant, confident of the answer from Miss Z. His timepiece showed twenty minutes before the previously scheduled meeting with a few business associates.

After spending five years in Europe, he decided it was time to come back and claim what was rightfully his, only this time, legitimately. He didn’t hanker to land in jail. His bootlegging days were over. Art was the name of the game, now, and he found the perfect building, a small gallery not far from his hotel. He was successful in Europe and had no doubt he could make it here—with a little help from his friends.

Out loud, but not loud enough for anyone to hear, he said, Yep, I’ll find me a lawful business, find me a wife. Have a couple of kids. Settle down and live the good life. No more guns and bullets for me. Need to sign the papers on the building and convince Miss Z I’m the one for her. And if she doesn’t follow my idea, I got foolproof ways of convincin’ her.

Shaken from the encounter with Jack Grey, Fanny hurried to her wardrobe and pulled out a sweater. She was cold, clammy, and very disconcerted. As she settled into the leather chair behind the desk a knock sounded.

Who is it? I don’t want to be disturbed.

It’s me, Benny. There’s a note for you. Andrew received it. Thought he should let me deliver it.

Come in.

Half bowing as he entered the room, Benny averted his glance and fumbled with the note. The head waiter, dressed sharply in the uniform of the day, appeared very dapper with creased black slacks, starched, white long-sleeved shirt, covered with a black vest, and topped off with a black string tie.

For Pete’s sake, Benny, stand up straight. I’m not the queen ready to bite your head off. Where’s the note?

Benny straightened as if a cattle prod touched his back side. Sorry, I ‘preciate how you don’t like to be disturbed. So sorry. He held the note straight out in front of him.

Stand up for yourself, Benny. You will never move ahead if you don’t. She took the note from him. Will you pour me a glass of sparkling water before you leave?

Certainly, ma’am.

While Benny bustled with the water, she opened the envelope.

I’m sorry if I offended you, Miss Z. Let me make it up to you. Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night? The club downtown. The Blue Feather. I’ll pick you up at seven. Jack Grey

She gasped.

Benny hurried back to her. Ma’am? Are you okay?

Yes, Benny. Make that a Bourbon, a double, no ice.

Benny stared.

Did you hear me? A double Bourbon.

Yes, ma’am. Comin’ up. He set the drink on a wooden coaster atop her desk.

Thank you. She put the glass to her lips and sucked down the entire contents in one gulp.

Benny’s eyes opened wider.

Something about the drink jolted her to awareness. Benny, is the gentleman still in the dining room?

He nodded, still staring. The last I checked, ma’am, yes.

Tell him there is no reply. Keep an eye on him. Notify me when he leaves. Will you do that?

Of course.

And Benny, make a note of which way he is headed once he’s out the door.

I will, ma’am.

Well, don’t just stand there. Go!

Benny shuffled his feet and made a beeline to the door.

Once again alone, a small tickle of fear crept in. Does he know who I am? Is he out for some kind of revenge?

Fear wasn’t part of her nature. A mobster requires steely nerves. She cut her teeth on the technique. To show any kind of weakness gave the advantage to your enemy. A cool head must prevail. So, this tiny flutter of emotion worried her. A brash personality worked for her in the mob, but in business it could