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

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Better Off Dead : A Lucy Hart, Deathdealer Novel (Book One) Page 23

by Alice Bello


  ~*~

  Lucy slept deep and hard that night. Her dreams were of shopping in boutiques and huge high-class shopping Meccas, of driving something sleek, expensive, and midnight blue (a new color for a new life) and receiving acceptance letters from every university she’d applied to. Even Stanford—that one had come in a golden envelope and the words glittered magically as she read them.

  She woke the next morning still sore but filled with purpose. Luvici was to pick her up shortly after she left for school. He was to park three blocks away so that her grandmother and mother wouldn’t suspect.

  Her mother was still asleep—the late shift always took it out of her. Lucy’s grandmother made her breakfast, and Lucy picked at it, only taking a bite or two when her grandmother was looking. She poured herself a cup of coffee after discarding the rest of her food in the trash. If she didn’t eat it, she wouldn’t have to work it off later. She would put off starting her workout regime until her shoulder had healed, but she would start dieting in earnest now.

  She would miss her grandmother’s cooking. Her own mother had only been a microwave kind of cook. If it wasn’t for the full time cook her father had employed year round Lucy would have never known there was such a thing as place settings and silverware. Also, having a cook meant that when Lucy had started eating low-fat, low-carb, the cook simply prepared something different for her.

  But her Gram’s cooking was special. Though full of fat and sugar and salt, it was also filled with love.

  Lucy grabbed her book bag and gave her grandmother a kiss as she made to leave.

  “Do you work tonight?” her grandmother asked, catching her at the door.

  “Oh, ummm… yes. So don’t wait up for me.” Lucy kissed her grandmother again. She didn’t like lying to her, however she would be doing things in preparation for her new job, so she actually wasn’t lying.

  Sure you’re not, Princess.

  Five minutes later Lucy found Luvici parked in a sweet, shiny red convertible. He had on a pair of shades and was leaning back in the driver’s seat soaking up some rays. He looked happy... too damn happy. Lucy stood there just staring at him. Sure, he’s really feeling that financial crunch.

  Finally she got into the passenger’s side seat, wanting nothing more than to slap him good. All that feeling sorry for him—finding he had layers, like some rumpled puppy/onion cross breed—was gone. She was going to hold her tongue, at least until Luvici drove her into San Bernardino, so she could pick up the car Dante Enoch had waiting for her, and of course the credit card. She would try not to be too late to school. But she absolutely wanted to break the card in.

  She was wondering what kind of car Dante would pick out for her. Probably something practical; he seemed a very practical man. But he was elegant too. Whatever it was, it would be elegant. That, at least, was a comfort.

  Luvici hadn’t moved a muscle. Was he asleep? Lucy finally took a breath to tell him to wake up, but ended up saying what was really going through her head. “I thought you said you were broke?” She looked to him and saw a smile slide across his face. Jerk… “I don’t call having this as a second car being financially strapped.”

  “What would you call it, then?” Luvici was looking downright smug behind his sunglasses.

  “I’d call it a mid-life crisis. Darla, Kenny… this shiny new penis shaped car. Looks like someone’s feeling over the hill, trying to regain some of his lost youth.” Luvici still had that irritating smile on his face. “What would you call it?”

  Luvici held out a set of keys in Lucy’s direction without actually looking at her. “I’d call this penis shaped midlife crisis yours.” He gave them a shake and the keys jingled merrily, sparkling new in the sunlight.

  “Mine?” Lucy felt tingly all over. Suddenly she started looking around at the sleek lines of the car, how the red paint blazed in the sun, at the soft as butter tan leather seats.

  “All you have to do is drive me back to my office and you’re free to rack up all the speeding tickets you want.”

  Lucy smiled. “What makes you so sure I won’t just take off and leave you in the dust?”

  “My unwavering belief in human decency,” Luvici said.

  Lucy snorted.

  “And I have your credit card in my wallet. And you don’t get that until I’m safely deposited at my office.”

  Lucy reached out and took the keys form Luvici. “I was just kidding. I’d never just ditch you.”

  “Sure you wouldn’t.” He didn’t sound as if he believed her.

  Lucy got out of the car and headed over to the driver’s side. Luvici awkwardly crab walked over the gearshift and plopped into the passenger seat. Lucy was surprised the man could move like that. She was sure from his belly that he hadn’t done exercise of any kind for over a decade. Unless you counted boffing Darla and Kenny as exercise, then maybe he was fitter than he looked.

  “Where’s the trust?” Lucy slid in behind the wheel and turned the engine over with a wicked roar.

  “Just don’t kill us, okay Hart?”

  Lucy smiled at him calling her “Hart.” It was funny and made her almost like him. Almost.

 

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