by Dianna Love
As usual, her father’s refusal to acknowledge her working her butt off to get through college and grad school irritated her. His money may have paid for it, and she still hadn’t reconciled herself to the idea of being put through school with money earned illegally, but she had done the work and managed top honors. All to prove that she could be more than a criminal’s daughter. “Joey shouldn’t have said anything. Besides, it has nothing to do with me. The police said it’s probably a dognapping ring.”
If she took the diamond out of the picture, it could be the dognapping ring.
Frankie leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. “Joey and I are doing the walks with her. She’ll be fine.”
If Dad had a hair’s worth of knowledge about the diamonds, he wasn’t letting on. Maybe Joey was right. And wasn’t that the equivalent of swallowing antifreeze?
“What’s this garbage about you two breaking up again?”
“Don’t start, Dad.”
“You need to get your head examined. Why won’t you marry him? How many times are you gonna make him ask?”
Lucie sucked in a breath. How humiliating that he should bring up the one time that Frankie asked her to marry him in front of both their families. He’d surprised her with it and, in her blindsided state, she hadn’t known what to do. “Dad, I’m not talking about this now.”
“He’s good for you. He’ll take care of you.”
Frankie shifted in his seat, and she thought she would die right there. “Can we not talk about Frankie like he’s not here? This is inappropriate.”
That probably wasn’t the right thing to say, because Dad’s face turned a scary shade of red. Maybe even purple. “Don’t you tell me what’s inappropriate. Did you forget who you’re talking to?”
Frankie cleared his throat. “Joe, everything is good. Luce and I are on a break.”
Her father poked a finger at him. “I should crack you one. You gotta control this.”
“Dad, it’s not your business.” The hammering inside Lucie’s skull set her eyeballs throbbing. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t sit here and have her father, inmate number 3-5-7-9-2-4, lecture her. The man was in prison and he dared to lecture her?
She shot out of her chair and the screeching of the metal legs caused a vibrating buzz against her leg. “Visit is over.”
“Sit down,” her father said.
“I will not. I’m done here.” She looked at Frankie. “You can stay if you’d like. I’ll be outside.”
He reached for her hand. “Luce—”
“I won’t sit here and have him yell at me. Not when I can walk out of here.”
Frankie watched Lucie make a beeline to the door. Being in a room with these two was like visiting a snake pit. He faced Joe. “That went well.”
Joe held his hands wide. “I don’t understand.”
Did he think he was the only one? Joe Rizzo was as thick skulled as they came. Frankie had always been respectful to him but never held back when it came to offering his opinion. Joe didn’t like weaklings, and Frankie always made sure to shoot straight with him. Particularly if the situation involved Lucie. “I don’t understand either but with all due respect, yelling at her won’t help. You know your daughter. If you push, she’ll push back. I’m giving her space. She’s trying to survive here, Joe. I figure if I give her time to sort out what’s going on with her career, she’ll be happy and then we can work on our relationship.”
“Or, she could marry you and she won’t have to worry about the career. My wife was pregnant at Lucie’s age.”
Maybe Joe was deaf in addition to being thick skulled? His solution was to get married. And what a rotten reason for someone to get married. These old-school guys were impossible.
“I don’t want her to marry me because I can support her. I want her because I love her. All this other stuff will work itself out. Give her some room.”
Joe slouched back in his chair. Relinquishing control had to be brutal for him. Being locked up didn’t help. Not when the people in his life came and went and he had nothing to say about it. “I know you’re worried, but I’ll take care of her. Whether we’re broken up or not, I’ll take care of her.”
There weren’t many things Frankie knew for sure, but that was one of them. It didn’t matter what it took, he’d make sure Lucie stayed safe.
Joe nodded. “I know you will, but her life would be easier if she got married.”
Frankie laughed. “You’re a pisser, Joe.” He stood. “I gotta go.”
“I put the word out. Anyone touches my daughter, there’s gonna be problems. You check in with me about this dognapping business. I want to be updated. Don’t screw with me on this.”
As if he’d dare? “If anything happens, I’ll make sure you know.”
How he’d do that without upsetting Lucie, he had no idea.
He stepped into the waiting area and found her reading a copy of the prison newsletter. “Anything good?”
She slapped the paper on the side table and stood. “Family picnic next week. Can we go home now?”
“These visits are always fun.”
After pushing through the door, she stopped on the outside landing. “Am I wrong?”
He shrugged. “You push his buttons, he pushes yours. When he asked about us getting married, you could have said we’re talking about it. He would have been satisfied. Instead, you blew your stack.”
“So, it’s my fault?”
“No. It’s his fault. Definitely. You need to be prepared, though, or it’ll always wind up this way and everyone loses.”
And I land in the middle.
“I won’t give in.”
“You don’t have to. He’s locked up. Just say what’ll make him happy and he’ll leave you alone.”
“You want me to lie?”
“I want you to spin. Spinning will buy you time and save me grief.”
She leaned against the steel railing and crossed her arms. When the sun lit her blue eyes and made them twinkle, Frankie sucked in a breath. He loved her. She terrorized him, but he loved her.
“Spin,” she said, clearly calculating the merits.
“Yep.”
“We’ll try that.”
“Perfect. Let’s go home.”
***
The next morning, Lucie figured the dead-last thing Frankie wanted to do before work was drive her downtown for her dog duties. As always, he smiled and pressed on.
They walked the half-block to Otis’s house because, with the magic of the Frankie Factor, they found a spot on the same street. Parking spaces, like women, just appeared for him.
“You don’t have to walk with me. I’ll be fine.”
He grinned. “I want to walk with you. It’ll force you to spend time with me.”
Looking at him, that beautiful face, the dark hair, it hurt in a way that carved out a piece of her. Plus, she’d been thinking about the colossal disaster of the visit with her father and how Frankie fell into the drama. He deserved better.
“I never apologized about the visit with my dad. He shouldn’t have cornered you.”
Frankie shrugged. “He didn’t corner me. You’re the one he wanted answers from. I was collateral damage.”
“Still; it’s none of his business.”
“What’s your point?”
She laughed. “It makes me realize that no matter how old I get, he’s still trying to control everything.”
“He’s your dad. Him trying to control you will never change.”
“Unless I change it.”
“Good luck.”
They reached the driveway and Lucie moved to the garage, pressed in the code.
“I’ll wait here,” Frankie said.
Two minutes later, she came out with Otis leaping around, all too ready to start his walk. Frankie stood in the middle of the driveway, his eyes closed and his head tilted to the clear blue sky. He looked…peaceful.
“I love this time of year,” he said without lookin
g at her.
Spring meant the start of a new baseball season and she knew it brought mixed emotions for him. He loved the excitement of getting outside, playing on his rec team, watching the games, but at the same time, he mourned the loss of his dream.
“You okay?” Lucie asked while Otis sniffed around her foot. The rhinestone collar she made him twinkled in the sunlight and she wondered if she should have Ro double-check it for real diamonds. She bit down. No. That one had been checked already. All fakes.
Frankie finally looked at her, his eyes a little distant. “Are we going to make it through this break?”
After shifting the leash to the other side, she reached for his hand. “I want to.”
“How do we fix it then? It seems like you want me to give up my life. I won’t do that.”
“I don’t want you to give up your life. I want it to not interfere with our relationship. I’ve worked hard to get beyond being Joe Rizzo’s daughter. I want more than that. You don’t mind people gossiping about your family. I do. And I want you to defend me to your parents. You never say anything when they bug me about getting married. And you also told your dad about the dognappings when I specifically asked you not to.”
“Hey, if he can keep you from getting hurt, I’d do it again. The other stuff? Not defending you? On the big stuff, I defend you. Arguing with them about when we’re getting married is pointless. Nothing will change. I ignore them.” He blew air through his teeth. “Regardless, I’m not turning my back on my family.”
They’d been over this a hundred times. With the way her heart craved him, it was worth making it a hundred and one. “Don’t you remember that feeling you had when you first figured out what your dad did for a living?”
“Sure. But it doesn’t determine how I live my life.”
Otis barked and Lucie gestured to Frankie to walk with her. “When I was ten, a kid in my class told one of my friends that my father wasn’t away working, that he was in jail. That’s how I found out. My mother had told me my dad was building a new restaurant in another state and would be gone a few months. When I came home and asked her, she admitted it. That was when I realized my dad wasn’t who I thought he was. I never got over that.”
“We don’t get to choose our parents.”
Otis stopped at his favorite oak and sniffed. He’d be here a minute. “But we can choose to separate ourselves.”
“If we want to. I don’t. I don’t agree with what my dad does, but he has always supported me. I can’t turn on him for that.”
“Stalemate.”
Frankie pulled a twig from a low hanging branch and snapped it. “No compromise?”
“Sure. We don’t go to dinner with your parents every other Saturday.”
“Luce—”
“Why does it have to be set in stone? Why can’t we pop over on a Friday? What if we want to do something else on Saturday?”
Frankie shrugged. “Then we do something else. No big deal.”
Otis zeroed in on his spot and assumed the position for one of his colossal poops. “It is a big deal. If we don’t go your mother will flip.”
“Probably, but I’ll deal with it.”
“I want to move back to the city. You like having a three-flat in Franklin so you can walk to Petey’s, get a meatball sandwich and shoot the bull with your dad’s friends.”
“I can drive in from downtown.”
Ugh. He didn’t get it. Didn’t understand how the pull of “the life” came between them, defined them. She wanted to separate herself from it and he wanted to hang on.
Otis finished pooping, and Lucie cleaned up the mess and dropped the package into the larger grocery bag she carried.
Frankie grabbed her arm to get her attention. “I’m willing to make changes, but we both need to. Otherwise, one of us will get everything and one of us will get nothing.”
The flatness in his brown eyes split her in two and made her realize the hurt she’d put him through. It would be easy to give in. If only to make him happy, but this issue was too big and menacing. “I can’t come up with a compromise, but if you can, I’d be ecstatic.”
They wandered a few feet and Otis stopped at his second favorite tree. Frankie shifted toward her and stuck his hands in his jacket pockets. “We’ve had three years together, Luce.”
“Three great years.”
“Definitely.”
“I love you, Frankie. I want to wake up with you every morning, have babies with you and watch you teach them how to play ball.”
He grinned. “I’d be good at making babies.”
She rolled her eyes. A flock of squawking geese flew overhead and Otis lunged forward, yanking the leash and throwing Lucie off balance. Frankie grabbed her, and she hung on to his jacket for balance.
She gave the leash a correcting tug. “Relax, Otis.” Frankie laughed and she made the mistake of looking into his eyes.
At that moment they were them again; two lovers enjoying a laugh over an inconsequential thing. The moment drifted between them, suspending them in the muck between love and hurt. He leaned down and brushed a kiss over her lips. She let it happen. Let the loneliness of these last weeks and the loss of his body next to hers melt away. What could be the harm in that?
She finally pulled back and he nipped her bottom lip. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” He kissed the top of her head and she snuggled into him, settled her cheek against his jacket and inhaled the clean, airy scent that came with him. Hopefully, this would always be her place. Hopefully.
***
After a lightning quick lunch, they headed to the Bernards’ and Lucie pushed through the lobby doors with the dogs. “We have to make a quick stop at Sammy Spaniel.”
“Say what?”
“The dog boutique around the corner. The girls are out of chews and Mrs. Bernard left a note asking if I could get them.”
Frankie considered himself a reasonable guy, but running errands was taking advantage of Lucie’s good nature. Lucie, probably still guilt-ridden over the dogjacking, didn’t want to say no. “You’re the boss.”
She grinned up at him. “I like the sound of that.”
“Depending on how far you wanted to take it, I could think of a few areas we can put you in charge. One would involve you on top of me with a whip.”
Lucie clamped her mouth shut.
“Just saying.”
They swung a right at the corner and dodged the lunch hour rush with the dogs sniffing their way toward Sammy Spaniel. Lucie marched into the store with the girls leading the charge.
“Let’s all go in,” Frankie said.
The place looked like Cinderella’s castle for dogs. Coats and costumes—costumes?—shared one wall, while collars and leashes hung on the adjacent wall. And didn’t all this dog crap get his mind buzzing? Lucie needed to get her accessory line in here.
The back wall contained dog treats, and bags and bags of food. Frankie eyeballed the freezer and a big sign that said Raw Bar. He didn’t want to know.
The saleslady, a fortyish woman, wore tight jeans, high-heeled red boots and a low cut V-neck sweater that screamed va-va-va-voom.
She glanced over at him and smiled. This woman was nice looking, but if she backed off on the makeup and stopped dressing like a twenty-year-old, she’d be a stunner. After giving him the onceover, she returned to her customer.
“I’m not sure what my supplier has,” she said. “But I’ll call this afternoon. We’ll get your baby squared away.”
Must be the owner. Even better.
A circular bakery case, smack in the middle of the room, held dog pastries and intricately decorated cookies that caught Frankie’s eye. Seriously? People spent money on this stuff? For dogs?
Lucie headed for the wall with the dog chews while he perused the collars. Frankie picked up a pink one with hearts on it. Twenty-four ninety-five. A little pricey for your basic collar. He moved down the line and grabbed the black one with silver swirls. Thirt
y-five bucks. He set it back and, hanging on to the theory that these babies got pricier the farther down the line he went, he snatched a leather one with metal studs off the hook. Fifty-nine dollars. Now we’re talking.
“I found the treats.” Lucie came up behind him.
“Check out these collars. You need to get hooked up with this place.”
She glanced at the rows of collars and leashes and bit her bottom lip. “I left the owner my number last week. I’ll follow up with her in another week or so. I don’t want to do anything until we settle the issue. If you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I get it, but they have a built-in customer base here. All you need to do is show the owner your stuff.”
“Excuse me.” The other customer in the store squeezed by.
“Sure,” Frankie stepped aside, spotted the owner coming their way and leaned closer to Luce. “Roll with me, here.”
“What are you doing?”
“How are we all today?” The woman’s cherry red lips eased into a smile. She looked first to Lucie then stared at Frankie. He glanced down at her left hand and didn’t see a ring. Cougar.
This would get him in trouble with Lucie, but he offered up one of his surefire crooked grins. “I could be better.” He reached to pat the dogs. “The girls have their bling on and I’m feeling underdressed.”
“Bling?” The woman squatted, giving him a nice view of her fleshy cleavage. Yow. He glanced at Lucie and she did the spare-me eye roll.
“Oh, aren’t these fabulous,” the cougar said when she spotted the collars. “Where did you get these? They’re just fabulous.”
Second fabulous within seconds. He shot Lucie a look, but she stood there as if facing down a ravenous tiger. Well, maybe in the cougar’s case, she was, but that was beside the point. He gritted his teeth and went back to the queen of all things fabulous.
“Coco Barknell.”
The woman’s eyes went wide. “Oh, I love it.”
“Yep,” he said. “Lucie here is the owner. She makes everything. Collars, coats, leashes. All one of a kind.”
The cougar stood and faced Lucie. “Did you leave me your number last week?”
Luce slid her gaze to Frankie, then back to the other woman before holding her hand out. “Yes. I’m Lucia Rizzo. The company is new. I’ve been doing private trunk shows.”