“We did, but I didn’t listen. Good thing, because if I hadn’t romanticized it then I wouldn’t be able to tell you who she’s now approached for lessons.”

Clay’s entire body locked up as his muscles seized in surprise. Florence had gone to someone else for lessons? Christ Almighty. The news was like a punch to the gut. “Who?” Jack paused for effect, his lips pursed. He was enjoying this. Clay leaned in. “Tell me now or I swear—”

“Word is that she’s gone to Mulligan.”

Clay shot to his feet, the bag of peanuts forgotten on the ground. He was out of the row and climbing the steps toward the exit in a flash. Had she lost her mind? She could be killed merely walking down the street to Mulligan’s club, let alone what might happen after she crossed the threshold.

“Wait up,” Jack called. “You can’t mean to go and see him alone.”

“I don’t need a nanny.” He reached the corridor and started for the turnstiles. “Mulligan won’t hurt me.”

“I wish I shared your confidence. You two haven’t always seen eye to eye.”

“That was business. This is personal.”

“Which makes it worse.” Jack grabbed Clay’s arm and pulled him to a stop. “Clay, think. Mulligan isn’t just going to hand her over. He’ll demand something in exchange.”

Clay swallowed. Jack was right but Clay didn’t care. “Then I’ll give him whatever he wants. Anything to get her out of there.”

A smile spread over Jack’s face. “Go and get her.”

Chapter Fourteen

The carriage ride took forever. Clay was nearly frothing at the mouth by the time he reached Great Jones Street. The sun had just fallen behind the buildings as he started toward Mulligan’s club, the long shadows giving cover to illicit activities of all sorts along the way.

The two guards at the door perked up at his approach. They were babes, no more than twenty, likely armed. Clay paid them absolutely no mind as he started up the steps. “Wait,” one of the guards called. “You can’t just—”

Clay brushed by him and flung open the door. The other guard reached out to grab his arm but Clay shook him off. What was Mulligan thinking, putting puppies on guard duty?

He’d been to the New Belfast Athletic Club a few times. Always at night and never for more than a quick meeting with Mulligan. Their business had overlapped in various places over the past decade, and it was a constant push-pull to stay in each other’s good graces. Clay had ceded most of the downtown gaming to Mulligan in the past two years, as he preferred to fleece fancy uptown patrons instead.