Better Off Dead : A Lucy Hart, Deathdealer Novel (Book One)

by Alice Bello

  Chapter 6

  “LET ME GO!” Lucy hollered, grabbing hold of the knob of a passing office door for leverage. Four inch heels were never good for putting on the brakes. Luvici looked back at her. His eyes had turned back to their previous glaring mode. “We have to hurry, princess.”

  Okay, that’s it! Now he’s calling me that too...

  “Get off me, you freaking troglodyte!”

  Luvici let go of her arm like she’d burnt him. He rounded on her and stood there, practically nose to nose with her. His breath was making Lucy’s eyes water, but she wouldn’t back down. This guy was just a big bully, and after all, who’s the one doing the blackmailing around here?

  “I—am—not—a—caveman!” He looked so pissed Lucy thought he was going to strike her. “I went to Stanford, just like your old man.” Suddenly his face seemed to crumble, and she saw that his eyes were getting glassy.

  “Are you going to cry?”

  “NO!” Luvici roared. But his face was starting to look like he was indeed getting ready to cry.

  I really don’t need a blubbering fool right now.

  “I’m not a caveman, the missing link, or a freaking giant...” His hands were out, palms up, beseeching. “I’m just big boned, for crying out loud!”

  Lucy shook her head, and then switched to nodding in agreement. “Sure... I totally see that.”

  “Then why’d you say that?” The hurt in his eyes made Lucy cringe. Where was the nasty, lecherous weasel who was checking her out just ten minutes ago?

  “Everyone said that,” he grumbled. College... even my goddamn wife calls me a Cyclops!”

  “Oh.” Lucy couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Okay, his eyes were a little close together, but with a little creative eyebrow plucking...

  A tear was threatening to leak out of his left eye. Lucy couldn’t take it if he started to cry now.

  “So, where is this place, where we’re meeting creepy phone guy?”

  Luvici got back that annoyed look on his face. I can handle annoyed, just not weepy.

  “We don’t call Mr. Enoch creepy phone guy. So remember that. He’s rich and powerful... hell, the entire family’s rich and powerful. They all work for the company. Hell, they are the freaking company.”

  “Okay, okay.” Lucy put up her hands in surrender. “He’s now only known as Mr. Enoch. So where are we going? And why were you in such a hurry?”

  This prompted Luvici to check his watch, groaning and swearing under his breath as he gestured again for me to walk.

  “We’re meeting Mr. Enoch and his nephew at Caulderon’s.”

  Lucy smiled. Her father had taken her there the day she’d passed her driver’s license exam. And he’d said they’d go again when she got accepted to Stanford. It was expensive. They didn’t even serve tap water, only fancy French and Italian stuff with bubbles.

  “Excellent!” she chimed.

  Luvici started moving down the street with some real speed. Now that he wasn’t dragging Lucy behind him, she suddenly had a hard time keeping up with him.

  “Caulderon’s is just a couple blocks away,” Lucy yelled after him. “Why are you in such a rush?”

  He stopped abruptly and turned to face her again. Looking down at her he said, “We have to dress you.”

  Dress me? But I’m not naked...

  But then it hit her. Jeans and a frumpy top weren’t going to impress people who were rich and powerful, or that frequented Caulderon’s. And then Lucy remembered that creepy phone guy—er… Mr. Enoch—had said he was looking for a “suitable young lady.”

  Definitely, I need something else to wear.

  With a sudden desperate tug at her heart she realized she didn’t have enough money to even buy underwear in the shops they were passing, especially not a dress.

  “I can’t afford these shops,” Lucy said, grabbing hold of Luvici’s wrist as he jerked her toward a boutique’s entrance.

  Luvici rolled his eyes. “It’s on me, kid.”

  “Thought you were broke?” she groused, stopping in her tracks, hands on hips.

  “I can’t afford your little blackmail scheme, but I can tote the bill for a dress.” He looked down at Lucy’s shoes. “Maybe we can find something that will go with those shoes.”

  Maybe, she thought as she followed Luvici into the boutique. Lucy had to stop. She turned and breathed in the scents: designer clothes, Italian leather, silk, Egyptian cotton. And all of it new...

  She suddenly felt a little light headed.

  “Lucy!” Luvici shouted, tearing her out of her reverie. “Get in here.”

  He was holding open the door to a changing room.

  She stood there and just stared at the big man.

  “Get in here and strip.” he said. “I’ll pick something out.”

  Lucy shook her head. There was no way this overgrown slouch could pick out something pretty, refined, and appropriate. Just look at Darla.

  Luvici caught her by the arm and shoved her into the five by five, mirror clad changing room. “How are you going to pick me out something?”

  Silence.

  “I mean, not that I’m doubting your fashion sense,” But, oh god I am. Look at the way you dress. “You don’t even know what size I am!”

  Suddenly something flew over the changing room door and dangled from Luvici’s meaty fingers until Lucy finally reached out and took it. It was a dress, ivory colored silk with a delicate pattern of exotic flowers. Gold thread was woven into the fabric. And low and behold, it was her size.

  I hate that everyone seems to know what size I am now!

  But just touching the soft, soft silk, and holding it up against her, looking in the full-length mirror in front of her, she couldn’t deny the big oaf had incredible taste.

  “Thanks... Frank.”

  “You’re welcome. Now try it on.” Lucy could hear him pacing outside the little room. “If we hurry, we can get you manicured and your hair done... maybe some demure makeup.”

  Lucy had to agree. Her makeup was overdone. She’d been aiming for sultry with a side of dangerous. But that didn’t go well with the dress. And her hair and nails really needed work.

  He had a good eye.

  “And please tell me those shoes match the dress.”

  Lucy looked down at her shoes and smiled. “Perfectly. Where did you get such a good eye?” Then Lucy remembered that Luvici liked girls and guys. There had to be some gay/bi-sexual fashion gene in there, somewhere.

  There was a long silence, but just as she started pulling off her top Luvici started talking.

  “I was going to be an art major, in college.”

  “You’re an artist?” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.

  “Not good enough to be a professional... but I really wanted to own a gallery someday.” She heard him chuckle unhappily to himself. “But the family—my father—insisted I go to law school.”

  She recognized the edge to Luvici’s voice. His father hadn’t approved of him, and it still cut him like a knife. She could relate.

  She slipped into the dress, easily zipping herself up, then inspected her reflection in the panorama of the mirrored walls. The dress was a knock out: elegant, yet fresh and young.

  Lucy came out into the store with a flourish, turning in a grand gesture, smiling up at Luvici.

  “Not bad.” He handed his charge card to the rather intimidated looking sales clerk.

  Moments later he was ushering Lucy into a small beauty parlor with oriental decor, and an all oriental staff.

  He walked right up to the gorgeous woman standing behind the counter. Her hair was like black glass, not a fly away or split end anywhere, and her skin was flawless.

  “Ming Na… my friend here needs a mani-pedi, a trim, style—maybe a twist—and makeup.” Luvici gave the woman that raised eyebrow look Lucy already hated.

  “Sure thing Luvici,
” The woman sounded like she hated that look too. “Why don’t you ever bring in that secretary of yours? She needs a lot more work than this one does.”

  Luvici smiled. “I like Darla just the way she is. Now can you hurry? We’ve got...” He looked down at his watch. “Forty-five minutes.”

  “It’ll cost you, dog.” Lucy almost didn’t catch the “dog” reference. She’d said it so matter-of-factly. Lucy suddenly wondered how many women Luvici was cavorting with. Or was he just that infamous?

  The woman named Ming Na whisked Lucy back to the sinks and scrubbed her hair with the most enticing smelling shampoo. Exotic essences of flowers and fruit enveloped Lucy’s senses. Then she ushered her into a salon chair, and as she snipped away all of Lucy’s damaged ends, two other women started work on her hands and feet.

  “No fake nails!” Lucy and Luvici said simultaneously.

  “Just make them even, and match the dress,” Luvici finished.

  By the time they were done, her nails and toenails shone a lovely pale pink, and her hair had been flat-ironed to perfection. It was almost as glassy as her hairdresser’s. Two minutes later Ming Na had washed and moisturized her face, and was already making quick work of Lucy’s makeup.

  As she walked out of the salon, Lucy had to admit, besides being ten pounds overweight, and wearing designer rip off shoes, she’d possibly never looked so good.

  Finally, Lucy sighed to herself with relief as she looked in the salon mirror. Mirrors love me again.