To Become A Con Artist

Chapter Twenty

Another one of my favorites! Please like/comment.

I sat with a tan cloche hat pulled tight over my finger waved bob, t-strap shoes of the same color, and a pastel green dress just below the knee that blew gracefully in the wind. Leo sat next to me in his charcoal three-piece suit with a green patterned tie, black oxfords, and a charcoal homburg hat with his ticket tucked in the strap.

We were at Belmont Park watching a thoroughbred flat race, whatever that was. It was a sunny, but breezy Saturday afternoon though the weather did not stop the avid horse betting men from taking off their suit jackets and loosening their ties as they stood and yelled toward the track.

I had never been to a horse track before, but Leo had asked if I wanted to accompany him and knowing that he would not wait for me to ponder, I quickly agreed.

"This place is beautiful. The air smells so-fresh." I fluffed my dress and smiled at everything around me. The scent was much better than that of the Mulberry slums. It was a new experience for me being anywhere beyond the boarders of the city.
Leo chuckled, resting his elbows on his knees.

"I said the same thing the day I finally left Mott Street."

"You lived on Mott Street?"

"For the first ten years of my life." He narrowed his eyes at the track.

"Then where did you live?" Leo glanced at me sideways and smirked.

"If I refuse to answer will you spill wine onto my suit?" He teased. I gave him a playful shove.

"I told you. I did not spill wine on the man. The glass shattered on the ground and only a single drop landed on his shoe." I defended myself.

Leo had not said much about my evening with Clyde. I'd told him on our way to Belmont Park this afternoon and all he would respond with was, "I see" and, "he sounds like a sap." Nothing more! I knew he was a man of few words but I truly wanted his critique after such an eventful evening with my first ever mark. After all, Leo was supposed to be my mentor of sorts.

"My father struck wealth when I was ten so we migrated to Sutton Place."

"How did your father become wealthy?" I asked. Leo sighed with his eyes fixed on the track. He did not answer so I assumed that he had not heard me. So I asked once more, "Leo, how did your-"

"Claire you ask too many questions."

"I just want to know more-"

"Claire." He said calmly, turning to me, peeved by my persistence. "Enough." Leo had never told me much about himself. As a matter of fact, I knew close to nothing about him. He was a true mystery man and I needed to know more. He may not have liked talking about his past, or even the events of the present, but I longed to know about Leo.

I slumped back in my seat and crossed my legs, lifting my head a bit to see better under the cloche.

"C'mon, c'mon." I heard Leo say under his breath as he stared firmly at the race still with his elbows rested on his knees.

Other men were yelling loudly all over and pumping their fists in the air as the horses neared the finish line. I looked once more at Leo then stood, grabbing my beaded pandora bag and walked out to the Belmont grandstand tote board in the backyard. The elegant ivy-framed arched windows were right above me as I chose a bench to sit at and wait for the race to commence.

As patrons passed, some seemed disgruntled, others were giddy and jovial. I sat for only ten minutes until I spotted Leo approaching with his hands in his pockets.