Made for Breaking

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Made for Breaking Page 12

by Lauren Gilley


  Ray nodded like he’d expected no less. “Guess it’s time to put you to work then.” He turned to his daughter. “Give us a minute?”

  “Sure,” she said, but Drew didn’t miss her little sigh. She stood, giving him a full head-to-toe look at the supershort cutoffs and her lean, tanned legs and the way they complimented her top half. “C’mon, Hektor.” The Doberman rose and followed her from the office with one last warning glance toward Drew. They went out the side door into the garage.

  “That’s a big dog,” Drew said in what was meant to be a severe understatement as Ray took his daughter’s place at the desk.

  He snorted. “And a big damn problem for anyone who messes with his mama, let me tell you.”

  That’s what Drew had been thinking.

  “So.” His new boss linked his hands together on top of the blotter, the shiny silver of his no-doubt expensive watch catching the incoming light. “I’m gonna go ahead and get you a pay advance.”

  Wow.

  “And I’ve got a job for you.”

  Less of a wow.

  “A friend of mine” – he pulled a pen out of a Braves mug on the corner of the desk and peeled a blue Post-it off the top of a stack – “is going downtown tomorrow morning and he wants a security detail.”

  Drew was fully aware of the fact that he wasn’t rocket scientist material, nor was he the type of guy who found himself in a leadership role. But logic dictated that unless you were a famous rapper or a foreign dignitary, you didn’t need a “security detail” when you ventured into Atlanta. All major cities had the potential to be very dangerous, but people didn’t just have body guards. “Who’s your friend?” he asked with a frown.

  Ray finished scribbling on the Post-it and handed it over. “Meet him here tomorrow at seven,” he said evasively. “You can take Mark’s truck. Here.” He pulled out a drawer on the desk and withdrew a set of keys. “It’s the blue Chevy in the back and it probably needs gas.” And then the wallet was coming out and bills were peeled from a stack within.

  Drew’s head was spinning. “Hold on…” Ray’s eyes snapped up and they looked so much like his daughter’s there was little wonder which of her parents Lisa favored more, and that was without seeing the mother.

  “What?”

  “Isn’t this all just a little…” Drew swallowed, his throat feeling dry. “All-of-a-sudden?”

  His face became almost thoughtful. “Well…let’s see. I give you a car to use, two hundred bucks, a job a trained monkey could execute, and if you do it right, there’s more where this came from. Now, if you take my money, and the truck, and skip town, how long you gonna last on your own?”

  Ricky yelled and screamed and cursed and worked five times as hard as this man in the hopes of establishing even a quarter of this kind of presence.

  “If you think about it that way, I come out on top under either scenario.” Ray twitched a small smile. “So no, it’s not ‘all-of-a-sudden.’”

  ***

  I’m such a lurker these days, Lisa thought as she leaned forward on the work bench on which she was perched so she could watch Drew leave the office and head around the side of the parking lot, a set of keys dangling from his hand.

  “You know, I bet if you asked, he’d walk in slow-mo for ya.” Eddie’s mocking voice drew a scowl. He was working on the Fastback and had black grease everywhere; she even thought she saw it shining darkly in his spiked hair. The knowing, laughing smile he was giving her made her feel about twelve and guilty for no reason.

  Her cheeks heated up. “Shut it,” she told him, eyes swinging out toward the parking lot again. Drew had already disappeared behind the building which was the reminder she needed that ogling strangers was not on the menu today. She and Hektor went back in the office to the tune of Eddie’s chuckles.

  Her dad looked like he might have been waiting for her. “Close the door,” he said, and once she did, he motioned to one of the empty chairs across from him. Lisa sat, amazed to watch him take the phone off the hook when it rang and leave the receiver sitting on the desk, dial tone droning.

  “Is everything alright?” she asked as Hektor pressed his sleek head against her leg and asked to have his ears scratched.

  All the menacing poise he’d given off in front of Drew had sloughed off, and in its place was the stressed, tired father she’d spoken to at the kitchen table the night before. He offered her a smile that wasn’t comforting. “I’m not sure yet, really.”

  She forced a hollow laugh. “Well that makes me feel better.”

  “Sorry.” He scratched a hand over his head – she secretly wondered if his thinning hair wasn’t self-induced – and gave her a look that begged understanding. “Something’s come up. And I don’t want to worry you or your mother – ”

  Her pulse accelerated of its own accord, slamming in her ears.

  “ – but I also want the two of you to be very careful.”

  “Careful how?”

  “Just keep your eyes open. Don’t be alone anywhere after dark. Be on the lookout for anything suspicious.”

  Ray was a dad who cautioned at every turn. Burglar alarms and pepper spray and trips to the shooting range – he didn’t believe a person could ever be too prepared for all the nasty shit life had in store. But something about the strained note of his voice left her palms clammy. Her chest felt tight. “Suspicious…oh, God, the flowers! Dad – ”

  “It’s fine.” He patted the air in a soothing gesture. “It’s fine.” But his eyes said otherwise, that it wasn’t fine at all. “I’ve got it under control. I just wanted you to be aware.”

  All the pretty colors for a pretty girl. Kettle drums pounded in her head. Oh, God. She had no idea what the flowers meant or who they were from, but looking at her dad, she knew that he knew. “How serious is this?” she asked, a quaver in her voice that hadn’t been there before.

  “I don’t know yet.”

  For the first time, she wasn’t sure she was glad for his honesty.

  13

  Ray’s friend Tony – who Drew had learned was also Ray’s attorney – looked like he’d walked off the set of The Sopranos. Only he dressed better. And smiled more. Their trip into Atlanta had consisted of a stop at a high-rise, the interior of which had been tricked out in marble and glass and could very well have been a museum. He waited in the lobby, as he was told; he rode shotgun in a Mercedes that made him twitchy. He handed a stranger an envelope that felt heavy with cash; stood alone in a deserted parking lot for God knew why, and fielded a barrage of questions about everything from his birthplace to his favorite brand of deodorant.

  It was a bullshit security assignment, yes, but more importantly, it was a litmus test.

  They were heading north, back toward Tony’s Alpharetta office in its beautiful brick building on a street corner surrounded by shops Drew couldn’t even afford to look through the windows of. When the lawyer leaned forward to switch the radio off, he shot Drew a look across the interior of the Benz. “Have you figured out what today was yet?”

  Drew watched the road through the windshield and tried to look nonchalant. “Yeah.”

  “Do you really? Or are you trying to save face?”

  He’d been second guessed his whole life and it didn’t bother him anymore. “You’re gonna go back to Ray and tell him whether or not you think I’m a total waste of time and money.”

  Tony made a soft sound in the back of his throat that might have been a laugh. “Smarter than you look, then.” He started to reach for the radio knob again –

  “What are you gonna tell him?” Drew turned his head so he was staring at the man’s very Italian profile. “You spent half a day with me and suddenly you can tell if I’m decent or not?”

  He chuckled out loud this time. “I can tell a lot of things about a man – but not if he’s decent.”

  Drew waited.

  “Do I think you’re some kind of deranged serial killer? No. Do I think you’re a dumb kid who’s made one too ma
ny bad decisions? Yes.” He grinned a quick, sharp, predatory grin that belonged, appropriately, on a lawyer. “I make a living buying people like you second chances. Consider yourself bought.”

  “Just like that?”

  Tony sighed. “Ray does need another guy. Something’s come up that’s going to make his life more…complicated…so he needs dependable employees,” he stressed. “If you’re good to him, he’ll be good to you. Screw him over and, well…I’m advising you do the former.”

  “…so then I told him that if he ever wanted to touch them again, he’d have to – ” Morgan’s overdramatic sigh pulled Lisa’s attention from the puddle of caramel sauce she continued to drag an apple slice through. She’d been drawing a map of her bedroom, rearranging her furniture in the sugary goo, and felt guilty for ignoring her friend’s current romantic predicament. “Are you even listening to me?” Morgan asked.

  “No.” She was honest, but managed an apologetic half-smile.

  Morgan, on her lunch break from work, was in a billowy, cowl neck purple blouse that flashed a lot of cleavage, gray pencil skirt, her golden hair done up in an elaborate twist and secured with chopsticks. Across from her, in a plain blue tank top, camo cargo shorts and flip-flops, Lisa felt frumpy and gross. It wasn’t something that bothered her. Morgan had always been the glamorous one. Besides, Lisa was drowning in thoughts of mysterious flowers and whatever boogeyman had her dad so twisted up. She’d slept poorly the night before and had awakened at four this morning in a tangle of sweat-soaked sheets. She was pretty sure she’d run a red light or two on her nearly hour-long commute to work and hated even the sight of food now, though her stomach churned, empty and full of acid.

  Morgan made a face. “Oh. Is this about that whole you being alone thing again? We can talk about something else. I’ll bitch about Corey with ‘Manda instead.”

  Lisa had to grin. None of her family liked Morgan – she had a way of being a friend and critic at the same time and was seemingly unaware of the fact – but she was always honest, and Lisa would rather suffer unintentional jabs than put up with the fake nicey-nicey types she’d gone to school with.

  “No, sorry, I was just…thinking about something else.”

  Morgan lifted her brows expectantly and forked another bite of salad into her mouth.

  “Just something my dad said. It was stupid.” She wasn’t getting her friend pulled into this mess, mostly because Morgan kept secrets from no one.

  Her friend shrugged and speared a big, slimy-looking hunk of tomato made all the more unappealing by the ranch dressing that dripped off it. “So anyway. If I let Corey take me out again, he’s got this buddy – Kyle maybe? Dunno – anyway, he’s single. Maybe you could come along and we could go doubles.”

  Lisa thought being involved in a shop class accident sounded more fun, but she managed a somewhat pleasant expression, or so she hoped. “Isn’t Kyle the one who spent a week in ICU after he tried to jump over a UPS truck with his bike?”

  “I think so. Why?”

  Lisa sighed. “If I have to explain it…”

  Forcing herself to eat just wasn’t working, so she turned back to the Excel spreadsheet that was open on the computer and began double checking the equations she’d entered before lunch; if she overlooked an error, no one else at the shop would catch it.

  “What about that Jonathan guy who was at the bar that night?” Morgan was convinced that losing her single status was the key to all things great in the universe. “He was kinda cute.”

  “You mean the ‘duuude, you’re kinda friggin’ hot’ guy? Or the one who wanted a martini?”

  “Both were cute.”

  “Both were idiots,” Lisa countered, shaking her head. A glance confirmed that Morgan was trying to hide a smile.

  “I just worry about you is all.”

  “Maybe you ought to worry about them and the possibility that people like them will actually reproduce and populate the world.”

  “You’re a buzzkill. Seriously.”

  “I don’t really care – ”

  “Who in the hell is that?”

  Lisa knew without even looking, and it only intensified the stomach cramps half an apple had induced, for some reason. Morgan had a bit of a thing for Eddie, but the excited, startled sound of her voice smacked of a brand new fascination. Sure enough, when she glanced up and out through the window, Lisa saw that Drew was back from his errand with Tony and had parked her uncle Mark’s truck up close to the office. He was in a plain black t-shirt that had probably come from Wal-Mart, jeans and beat-up New Balance sneakers. His dark hair was in need of buzzing but she thought it looked nice a little bit longer. And his arms looked…well, she wasn’t going to think about what his arms looked like, because that took her mind in a dangerous direction.

  “A bouncer my dad hired.” She only had to lie a little – he was working for her dad and he’d more than likely be on bouncer duty at some point – and made a pointed effort to concentrate on her computer screen.

  “He’s hot!” Morgan hissed like an excited schoolgirl. There was a rustle as she clamped the plastic lid on her salad and dabbed her mouth with a paper napkin. Lisa heard a distinct set of clicks that could only mean her friend was popping a mint and reapplying her lipstick. By the time the bell jangled above the door and Lisa spared a glance in its direction, Morgan was primped and waiting, sitting sideways in her chair, lashes ready for the batting.

  Drew paused for a moment, whether it was to let his eyes adjust to the dimness or because he felt uneasy with two girls and a semi-awake Doberman staring at him, and Lisa felt a little sorry for him. He was just a big meathead idiot who was in way over his said meat head and she couldn’t really blame him for not being smooth.

  “Hey,” he said, and Lisa had to bite back a laugh as she watched Morgan’s cat-like smile creep across her face.

  “Well, hey there,” she purred.

  “Um…hey,” Drew repeated. He reached up to scratch the top of his head in a move that was, oddly, a lot like one of Ray’s nervous gestures, and Lisa’s eyes were drawn to the way the muscles in his arm bunched. He wasn’t a huge guy, but he had zero percent body fat, and she told herself it was only natural to stare a moment, before she forced her eyes away.

  “Can I help you with something?” Her voice wasn’t as polite as she’d intended it to be.

  “God, you’re so rude, Lis,” Morgan said. “I’m sorry,” she addressed Drew, “she’s just crabby sometimes.”

  Lisa shot a glare at her friend and accidently-on-purpose glanced up in time to catch Drew’s smile. It was a little smile, but it made him look anything but threatening. It, for some reason, wasn’t the kind of smile she would have associated with someone like him. And it made her uncomfortable – very uncomfortable – and more than a little embarrassed. Which was stupid.

  “Maybe I can help you.” Morgan sounded exactly like a cat who’d gained the power of speech. She uncrossed and then crossed her legs again. If Lisa hadn’t known her friend, she might have been ashamed of the display, but that was the thing about Morgan: she had no shame and Lisa didn’t hold it against her.

  “Actually, I’m looking for Ray.”

  “He went to lunch,” Lisa said, “but he’ll be back in a little while.”

  He shrugged. “I can wait.”

  She didn’t know how to classify the feeling that washed over her as Morgan smiled widely in delight and invited Drew to sit beside her with a pat of her manicured hand on the neighboring chair. Lisa blinked dumbly and struggled to formulate a theory as to why she felt as if there was a stone sinking in her belly. Morgan flirted outrageously with any man who had a pulse, so that was nothing new, and this guy was a slightly-sketchy boxer her dad had hired on, so it wasn’t as if she cared. She was just irritated, and didn’t know why – or, at least, she told herself she didn’t know.

  “I’m Morgan,” the introduction was made, “what’s your name?”

  Lisa went back to her number crunch
ing and tuned them out, but she noted that Drew was awkward as he fielded Morgan’s questions. She couldn’t decide if he was intimidated, uninterested, or simply had no powers of flirtation whatsoever. Morgan picked up on it too because she finally heaved a disappointed sigh and got to her feet.

  “Alright, girl, I’m out. Good to meet you, Drew.” She cast a last hopeful glance his direction as she gathered up her purse and lunch trash.

  “Uh, yeah, you too.”

  Lisa met her friend’s gaze and saw her roll her eyes. “Anyway, Lis, call me later. I was serious about that doubles thing. Kyle’s decent and it wouldn’t kill you to get some action.”

  “Yeah,” Lisa said dryly, “sounds like a friggin’ blast.”

  Once Morgan was gone, the click of her pumps receding across the parking lot, silence reigned, broken only by the clip of Lisa’s fingers over the computer keyboard.

  “Well,” Drew said finally, “she was…” He let the sentence hang and Lisa snorted.

  “She tends to have an overwhelming effect on people.”

  “I guess you could say that.”

  A glance revealed that his nose was wrinkled up in a comical display of what she could only categorize as distaste. She bit her lip to keep from smiling and focused on the computer again. “She not your type?” Why did I ask that?

  “No, not really.”

  She bit her lip so hard she thought she might draw blood. Why are you smiling, you idiot? she scolded herself. Stop the damn smiling!

  “What?” he asked.

  Busted. Furiously trying to force her face into a neutral expression, she turned toward him…and glanced up over his shoulder through the window where her eyes locked onto a florist’s van cruising to a stop in front of the office. Her mouth went dry. Her heart made a gallant leap up her esophagus. “Oh, God.”

  “What?” Drew asked again, concern in his voice this time. He twisted around to get a look at what she was staring at.

  Whoever was sending the flowers, and whatever message he wanted to convey, he wasn’t in the van, ready to pop out. He wasn’t there on the lot with her. But a chill that felt like human fingers snaked down her spine. She’d been in more than one chick fight, she’d had menacing, violent things whispered in her ear – mementos from Tristan and his friends – but never had anything ever left her actually a little bit afraid like these mysterious flowers.

 

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