Pretty Dirty Trick

by Tabatha Kiss

  I hesitate. I’m a few seconds from knowing something I already know. I hold it out and Robbie slides the stick from my hands. He looks at it, his face blank of expression, most likely on purpose.

  My heart races. “Well?”

  “Well...” He turns it to show me the window. “Congratulations, Trix.”

  Pregnant.

  I exhale all the air from my lungs. “Well, fuck.”

  Robbie pats my shoulder. “You’re gonna be fine.”

  “My father’s gonna kill me,” I say.

  “Why?” he asks. “Weren’t little mob babies part of his whole evil plan?”

  “Because it’s Lance’s little mob baby.”

  “Ohhh, yeah,” he realizes. “You’re right. You fucked up.”

  I collapse onto the edge of the bed. “How did this even happen?”

  “You had sex,” he deadpans.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Unprotected?”

  “No, we used condoms.”

  “That’s it?” he asks. “No pills? No ‘cide?”

  “Normal, everyday condoms.”

  He winces. “Honey, no...”

  “Well, they’ve worked just fine for fifteen years. Why stop now?”

  “Were they expired?” he asks.

  I fold over with a groan, then rise back up. “Wait, condoms expire?”

  His head tilts with disappointment. “Let’s hope this kid inherits intelligence from the Harvard half.”

  I glare at him as I hop to the side and pull open my bedside drawer.

  “Always double-up, Trix,” he says. “Failure rate seems tiny until it happens to you.”

  I pull out a condom and flip it over in search for a date on the wrapper. “2020,” I read, holding it up. “Vindicated.”

  “Still pregnant,” he says with a shrug.

  I glance at the package again, swiping my thumb across the face. A jagged texture makes me take a closer look.

  “Holy shit,” I say, my mouth dropping open.

  “What?”

  A tiny pinhole on both sides.

  I reach into the drawer.

  “Trix?”

  I grab a few more condoms to check them. My stomach churns when I see the same tiny hole in each one of them.

  “Someone poked holes in these,” I say.

  “Someone what?” He steps forward. “Let me see.”

  I stand up and shift several paces away from them as Robbie takes a look. Who the hell would do this? I definitely didn’t do it and Lance was never alone with them... nor can I ever picture him doing something like this.

  I gasp. “Marcus,” I growl.

  Robbie twists around. “You think so?”

  “Who the hell else? We know he’s been here by himself. He tried the whole one last time thing.”

  “And you used these since then?”

  “Yeah, a few of them. In the dark, heat of passion, didn’t notice, et cetera...” I deflate. “Marcus tried to trap me. I knew he was desperate but I never thought he’d stoop to this.”

  Robbie nods slowly and clears his throat. “Okay... so... can I kick his ass now?”

  I plop onto the bed again. I guess I can at least be thankful that it’s not Marcus’. It’s one-hundred-percent Lance’s. But then again, it’s Lance’s. We aren’t together anymore and we’ve certainly drawn our lines in the sand.

  “Fuck,” is all I can say.

  “Hey...” Robbie sits down beside me and rubs my back. “You’re gonna be okay. You know, just... stand tall when they’re calling you out. Don’t bend. Don’t break. Baby, don’t back down...”

  I pause. “Was that Bon Jovi?”

  “Yeah, I got nothing.” He slides out his phone. “I’m calling in the cavalry.”

  He swipes the screen twice and brings the phone to his ear. I listen to the soft hum as it rings repeatedly. Robbie pats my shoulder, giving me a reassuring nod as we continue waiting.

  “Hey, it’s Melanie. Leave a message.”

  He hangs up and calls back. “Usually takes a few tries,” he whispers.

  I bite my cheek, holding back a smile while he sits patiently through another half-dozen rings. Her voicemail message comes up again and Robbie immediately calls right back.

  “What the fuck do you want?”

  Robbie grins. “White flag, Mel. Trix needs help. Can you get to her place right now?”

  He gives my back another comforting rub and stands up.

  “Nora, too. Might as well bring food and beer while you’re at it.” He glances at my stomach. “Eh, better make it light beer.”

  I chortle.

  “Yeah, it’s kinda serious,” he says. “A little out of my league. I’ll let her explain.” He nods. “All right. See you soon.”

  He hangs up and drops the phone back into his pocket.

  “Wow,” I say. “That’s the friendliest conversation I’ve ever heard you two have.”

  “We know when to put aside the petty shit,” he says.

  I smile. “For what it’s worth, I hope you two work it out someday.”

  “Yeah. Me, too. Still, I should probably get out of here before she shows up. She’s ovulating and might not be able to resist me.”

  I shake my head. “You’re the Sherlock Holmes of vagina, Rob,” I quip.

  His lips curl into a wide smirk. “Yes, I am,” he says.

  Forty-Two

  Trix

  Wow...” Nora stares at the plastic stick in her hand just like I did before. “Pregnant.”

  “Yeah.” I lie on my back, looking up at my ceiling from the floor of my living room. “Pregnant.”

  I feel the word on my tongue again. It’s still just as strange and foreign as it was an hour ago.

  Melanie takes a bite of her pizza. “I always thought Nora would get knocked up first.” She drops the crust back onto her plate on the coffee table. “I’m pleasantly surprised it was you.”

  “Hey.” Nora feigns offense. “Actually, yeah. I did, too. Then Trix.” She smirks. “Then...”

  “Nope,” Melanie says. “The only thing I find even remotely appealing about the birthing process is the thought of a very educated man with trained hands staring intently at my vagina. The rest? Nah.”

  I smile. “You and Rob were made for each other, you know that, right?”

  She narrows her eyes. “You’re in delicate condition right now so I’m gonna let that one slide.” She reaches for her drink. “But out of curiosity, why’d you tell him first?”

  “I didn’t. He told me.”

  Melanie scoffs and taps her heel on the floor. “How does he do that?”

  I laugh. “He’s an educated man.”

  She rolls her eyes.

  Nora lowers to her knees next to my head. “So, what are you gonna do?” she asks.

  I take a deep breath. “Well—”

  “Are you gonna keep it?” she asks over me. “Have you told Lance? It’s Lance’s, right?”

  “Yes, it’s—”

  “Oh, good. I thought maybe you rebounded with Marcus.”

  I blink. “Wait, what?”

  “Are you and Lance gonna get back together?”

  “Nora.”

  “Not casting a vote either way but you definitely have to tell him.”

  “No, she doesn’t,” Melanie says.

  I squint. “Guys...”

  “I could never keep something like this from Clive,” Nora argues.

  “You and Clive have a very different relationship than they do,” Melanie says. “For one, you’re still together. You live together. You’re not exactly married but Judy pronounced you Dom and sub.”

  “Okay, yeah, but—”

  “Two, this isn’t some random dude Trix humped at a bar. This is her family’s legal nemesis. Some might argue that her best course of action might include pretending like it never happened.”

  I inhale. “I—”

  “Or she should use it as an opportunity to rekindle her relationship with L
ance,” Nora says.

  Melanie frowns. “You think she should guilt him into getting back together?”

  “No, not guilt him. But, come on, look at her. She’s been miserable since they broke up. Pretending like it never happened might cause more harm than good.”

  “Eh, maybe.”

  “Guys!” I sit up quickly. “Stop. I already know what I’m gonna do.”

  They lean forward.

  “You do?” Nora asks.

  “Yes.” I cross my legs and straighten up as high as I can. “I’m keeping it.”

  They fall silent.

  “I know that it might not be the smartest thing,” I say. “Nor is it a ploy to get back together with Lance. I just...” I swallow the lump in my throat. “It’s Lance’s baby. I’ve already met one example of what that could be and she’s amazing. If this kid ends up a quarter of what she is, then... then I want to be its mother, so… I’m keeping it.”

  Nora and Melanie stare at each other, their faces expressionless but their eyes twitch with psychic conversation. They both open their mouths to speak but quickly close them again.

  Someone knocks three times on my door.

  Nora rises off her knees. “You expecting someone else?” she asks.

  “No,” I say. “All my friends are already here.”

  “Robbie?” Melanie suggests.

  “Maybe.”

  She groans and stands up. “I’ll get it, I guess.”

  I shove a pizza crust into my mouth and watch as she strides over to the door.

  She opens it a few inches. “Oh, it’s... Danny?”

  “Gavin.”

  “Damn.” She turns to me. “Trix, it’s one of your brothers.”

  I glance over her shoulder and sure enough, there’s Gavin standing in the hallway. I don’t get up.

  “What do you want?” I ask.

  He looks past Melanie at me on the floor. “We need to talk.”

  “You know my email,” I say.

  “Trix, please.”

  I sigh and pull myself up as a sudden burst of nerves hits me.

  Do they know?

  No, they can’t know. Even I just found out about this. There’s no way.

  I glance into Gavin’s hard eyes and gulp.

  “It’s okay,” I say to the girls. “I’ll be right back.”

  I step out into the hallway and close the door behind me but I don’t stray too far from it.

  “What do you want?” I ask again, crossing my arms.

  Gavin takes a deep breath, “I wanted to come here myself and let you know that you don’t have to worry about Marcus anymore.”

  I pause. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean we know what he did and it’s been taken care of.”

  My eyes fall to his hands. His knuckles are bright red and bruised.

  “Gavin, what did you do?” I ask.

  “I did what you told me to do,” he says. “I asked Marcus. He said he had no idea what you were upset about but declined to comment about the scratches on his face.”

  I look down.

  “Took a little prodding first but Ma filled in the rest of the blanks.”

  “You gonna tell me to forgive him, too?” I ask.

  “No.”

  “Then, what do you want?”

  He half-smiles. “Honestly, I want my big sister back because if I have to endure another Sunday night dinner with Nikki and Bidelia yapping about Real Housewives, I’m gonna lose it.”

  I chuckle.

  “Come back, Trix,” he says. “We need you.”

  “It’s more complicated than that, Gav,” I say.

  “I know.”

  “You really don’t.”

  “Then, talk to me. What’s up?” he asks.

  “That’s the thing, isn’t it?” I say. “I talk. No one listens. Papa never really listened to what I had to say. That’s why I left.”

  “What if I told you we would?”

  “We who?”

  “Me and Danny,” he says. “Uncle Al’s gone. That leaves us in charge and as far as I’m concerned that includes you, too.”

  “Papa won’t allow it,” I say.

  “Papa made his bed. He ran this business the way Grandpa did. That worked just fine for them but it’s not working for us anymore. We’re divided when we should be together. What he and Marcus tried to do to you was wrong but, like I said, it’s been taken care of.”

  I hesitate, unsure if I even want to know. “What did you guys do to Marcus?” I ask.

  “He’ll be walking funny for a while. Nothing a few days off won’t fix.” He looks me in the eye. “He won’t touch you again.”

  “Does that mean he’s still employed?”

  “Yes,” he says. “I don’t think I have to explain how much of an enemy he could be if he weren’t but I give you my word. He’ll stay in line from now on.”

  I nod. “Thank you.”

  Gavin leans against the wall behind him. “Jerry told me about your interview,” he says. “Sounds like your guy is about to become a big problem for us.”

  “He’s not... my guy anymore,” I say.

  “What can you do to make this go away?” he asks.

  “Nothing,” I answer. “Lance is determined to see it through.”

  “Trix, we’re trying really hard to take this in the right direction. A few decades ago, he’d already be at the bottom of Lake Michigan and his replacement would have been paid off.”

  I tense up. “Don’t hurt him, please. He’s just doing his job.”

  “I’m not threatening him,” he says, “but I guarantee you if Papa hears about what Lance has on us, he will. I’ve already talked to Jerry about keeping it quiet for now but that guy…”

  He exhales hard, flexing his jaw in disgust. I guess I’m not the only one who hates Jerry.

  I hold my breath as a wave of nausea flows through me. Even in prison, my father still has the ability to do exactly what Gavin is talking about. It’s only a matter of time.

  “I don’t know what to do,” I say.

  “You’re the only in with Lance we’ve got, Sissy,” he says. “If you wanted to prove yourself and earn your marque, now’s the time.”

  I roll my shoulders back, standing up taller.

  Earn my marque.

  It’s what I’ve wanted since I was a kid; to be an equal partner at my father’s table but it’s not his table anymore. It’s Gavin’s and Danny’s and mine and someday it’ll be our children’s table.

  My hand rises to my abdomen but I slide it across to my side instead to make the gesture less obvious.

  Someday it’ll be its table.

  “Okay,” I say. “I’ll talk to him.”

  Gavin nods. “You can tell us all about it at dinner tomorrow night.”

  I smile weakly. “Yeah, maybe.”

  “I’m serious,” he says as he turns away. “End Real Housewives. Please.”

  He walks off down the hall but I stand still for a little bit longer. I let it all sink in. My father’s betrayal. Marcus’ comeuppance. My brothers taking my side and pushing a chair out for me…

  Lance and our baby.

  My door opens behind me and Melanie sticks her head out.

  “Everything okay?” she asks. “Got quiet all of a sudden…”

  “Everything’s gonna be fine,” I answer.

  “Gonna be?” she repeats, raising a brow.

  “Yeah. Gonna be,” I say again as I walk in around her.

  Lance might not listen to Beatrix Argento or even the real Trix anymore but he’s an honorable man. If there’s anyone he’ll make time for it’s the mother of his child. He has as much reason now as I do to keep the Argento family together. He’s a part of our family now.

  And I’m a part of his.

  Forty-Three

  Lance

  I can’t wait for New Year’s!” Haley says with her eyes locked on her phone in her hand. She shovels some cereal into her mouth with the other and a b
it of milk drips over her chin. “Max and Phoebe live just a few blocks away from Times Square! Isn’t that cool?”

  “You know…” I look up from my morning coffee, “I haven’t agreed to this New York trip yet.”

  She looks at me across the table with little puppy eyes. “Come on, Dad. It’s Max.”

  I raise a brow. “Exactly.”

  “He used to babysit me!” she argues.

  “Clearly an error in parental judgment on my part.”

  She scoffs. “Pleeeeeeease.”

  I laugh. Honestly, I already had a long, pointed discussion about this trip with Max while he was here. He assured me that she won’t be exposed to anything too sultry — his word, not mine. I agreed to the trip but there’s nothing I like more than torturing her about it.

  “I’ll think about it,” I say.

  She glares at me for a moment before turning back to her phone. “You could always come along, you know,” she adds. “Maybe planning a fun vacation is just what you need to get out of your funk.”

  I stifle a yawn. “I’m not in a funk.”

  “You’re the mayor of Funkytown, Dad.”

  “There’s no funk in my town.”

  “Still, I don’t think Max will mind you taking a couch. He said I could have their roommate’s room and their roommate could share their room, so I guess they have a pull-out in there or something.”

  I nearly choke on my coffee.

  The doorbell rings. Haley drops her spoon into her bowl and hops out of her chair.

  “I’ll get it,” she says.

  I wipe the coffee off my chin, happy for the sudden distraction away from that conversation. Maybe I should have been more specific when I discussed with Max exactly what sultry meant.

  That said, going along on this trip doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Maybe it will do me some good to get away for a few days. Someplace where I don’t have to think about—

  “Trix!”

  I twist around to see Trix standing in the open doorway. She smiles at Haley’s enthusiastic welcome but her lips slowly fall as she catches sight of me.

  Haley folds her arms in amusement. “What are you doing here?” she asks.

  Trix finds that polite smile again. “I need to talk to your dad,” she answers.

  “About what?”