by Eva Sloan
“We bet on things.”
Silence.
“Like?” Lucy prompted him.
“Well…sometimes it’s just sporting events: horse racing, college football games, that Ultimate Cage Fighter show.”
“Okay,”
“That’s usually just a money bet. But sometimes we actually bet on who can…” He stopped and stared at Lucy, and she could see in his eyes that he was editing what he was about to tell her. He did that a lot, especially when they’d discussed his family, but never when they’d talked about the photos and his friends, or his brother. But he was doing it right now.
“You know, who can run faster—sometimes we spar, like fighting.”
Lucy looked back over her shoulder at the photo of the two of them on the boat. “You fight your brother, the giant?” She chuckled. “I’m sure that goes well.”
Gabriel let his head lull back on the couch, and Lucy found herself looking very slowly down the length of him. He always took his jacket off when they ate, and his silk dress shirt that night was ivory. As he leaned back it melded to his body most enticingly.
“I win…sometimes. But on that occasion,”—he nodded his head toward the photo in question—“I lost big time.”
“So the picture is because…you lost the bet,” Lucy said. “And I imagine its placement in your office is significant?”
“Very.” Gabriel rolled off the couch and over to the photo, plucking it from the wall and returning to the couch, plopping down on it in a very non-Gabriel way. His every move was usually so careful and graceful. “There’s a third part to the bet, though.”
“Mmmm…” Lucy was getting excited, looking at the strange piece of art being displayed in the photo. This story was shaping up nicely.
The artful design was actually kind of funny looking. It seemed like a coat of arms. Except…well, besides the crossed swords and the detailed outline of the shield itself, what was displayed in the center of the design made Lucy giggle for a good thirty seconds before she got a hold of herself.
“Is that—are they…doing what I think they’re doing?”
“Yes,” Gabriel said, turning his head away as he scratched the back of his ear. “That’s two…wolves…”
“Screwing,” Lucy shrieked with laughter.
“I was going to say mating.”
“And I was going to say to werewolves screwing doggy style!” She fell over on her side on the couch, melting into peals of laughter and holding the framed photo to her chest and tried to catch her breath.
“They’re wolves,” Gabriel said, looking like a kid getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
Lucy practically barked out a snide laugh at Gabriel’s protest. “I’ve seen wolves,” she said, holding her stomach as she raised the photo up to her face to get a better look. “Wolves don’t have human torsos, especially muscular He-Man chests. And look!” She pointed at the photo. Gabriel tried to grab it from her, but she scooted away as she fingered the point of interest on the picture.
“This right here. The…wolf on top has definite clawed hands! He’s got one…well, wrapped around the other wolf’s…torso, and the other is holding on to his shoulder…for, um…leverage?”
Gabriel sighed unhappily. “Well, I was drunk when I—” and then he just stopped, leaning back on the couch and crossing his arms over his chest.
Lucy gave him a curious glance, and then she held the photograph out away from her, taking the entire image in form a distance, then bringing it back trombone-style and noticed something interesting about the texture of the “canvas” the werewolf mating coat of arms was stenciled on.
“Is that a freckle?”
Gabriel groaned and threw his brawny arm up over his face. “I said I was drunk, for the bet and the…the—”
“Tattoo!” Lucy howled joyously. “This is a tattoo, isn’t it? That’s the third part of the bet.” Lucy reached over and pulled Gabriel’s arm from obscuring his face. He looked to her pleadingly.
“A framed photograph, prominently displayed in your office, of a lewd tattoo on your—” She stopped and turned to shoot Gabriel with a wrinkle of her eyebrows. “Gabriel…where exactly on you is this tattoo?” She shook the photograph in her hand for emphasis.
“You don’t want to know.” He looked into her eyes and she felt a little shudder, like how she felt when she fantasized about stealing Brad Pitt form Angelina.
She shook that feeling out of her mind. It was preposterous. She hated this guy…well, she didn’t exactly hate him, not anymore, but he was still a condescending pain in her ass.
“Yeah, I do want to know.”
He smiled ruefully to himself, and as he shook his head he leaned away from Lucy and pointed down behind him to the back of his slacks. It took a second, but then Lucy realized he was pointing to his butt, and she suddenly realized with a squeak, and then more riotous laughter, that she was holding a photograph of a tattoo on Gabriel’s ass.
“It’s not funny.” His face was sobering up as he leaned his head back. “And leave it to Micah to get me into the tattoo parlor and snap a picture of it while I was still…inebriated.”
“You must’ve been wasted,” Lucy said, handing the picture back to him, using her thumb and forefinger like it was something yucky. “But I’ve got to give you credit for actually sticking to the terms of that drunken bet.”
“Thanks.”
“I just can’t wait to meet your brother!”
Chapter 10
THE WEEK before the engagement party passed far too quickly for Gabriel. His confidence in Lucy had grown considerably, yet he still felt anxious about her meeting his family. Would they fall for their act? Could he convince them he was in love with the girl? He wasn’t worried about Lucy’s performance: she was showing herself to be an incredible actress. And the story she’d concocted of the way they’d met had been genius.
It went like this:
They’d literally run into each other in the entrance of The Szechuan Garden. He had knocked her down, accidentally, and she had thought he was a complete jerk. He’d helped her up, and was unsuccessfully trying to apologize when she’d kicked him in the shin and took off down the street, absently leaving behind her takeout order.
He’d scooped up the bag and rushed after her. “Like a creepy stalker,” Lucy had said, “He followed me to my car and invited me to join him in the park to split the bag of takeout food I’d left behind. What an arrogant pig!”
But somehow Gabriel had convinced her he was harmless, and by the time they’d gorged on the contents of the bag, which strangely had two fortune cookies in it (a romantic touch that made Gabriel want to gag,) they began to talk, and so was the beginning of their courtship.
He had to admire how she’d effortlessly organized some tidbits about him into an actual romantic scenario. Obviously the imagination of the average American high school senior was alive and well. Must’ve been the glut of cable television, practically how-too programs for those who wanted to rule the world through treachery.
Either way, it was impressive, yet deceptively simple and easy to remember. And even though Lucy was unabashedly greedy, Gabriel was finding her rather easy to like. He still couldn’t believe he’d told her about the tattoo. He had never told anyone that story, even though he displayed the photograph in his office. But somehow, he just seemed to want to tell Lucy things.
Actually, he hadn’t even told the whole truth of the tattoo to Delia…and she’d actually seen the real thing, not just a picture.
What did that mean? The question left him sitting alone in his office, in the dim light of evening, wondering what the hell was he really doing? Was he just confused by trying to act the part of Lucy’s fiancé? Or was there something he didn’t understand, something right there in front of him, so obvious it should be as big as a billboard, but somehow he just couldn’t see it.
And if what he was feeling wasn’t just an after effect of an act, if it was something real and ta
ngible…well then what?
Had it changed the way he felt about Delia?
No. As he leaned into the leather couch in his office he knew for a fact that it hadn’t changed the way he felt about Delia. But somehow he just knew that the way he was feeling toward Lucy was so far different than what he felt for Delia that he should be ashamed. He should feel guilt ridden and retched. But thinking about Lucy didn’t make him feel anything but good.
No, not just good. He felt like he was overheating when he thought about Lucy. He felt like every molecule in his body was vibrating fast enough he should just explode. And then there was how his mind felt around her. His usually cool, confident thought processes snagged and tripped clumsily around her…and he really didn’t seem to mind.
What the hell was happening to him?
He looked to his watch and saw the time. It was only an hour before the engagement party. He needed to shower and change into his tuxedo. Laurel had it hanging on the back of his office door with a little note tacked to the clingy plastic sleeve.
Congratulations Boss. Lucy’s great!
He smiled as he plucked the note from the dry-cleaning bag. Lucy really was great. But did that mean anything?
He grabbed the tux and started for the gym locker-room. He needed to get ready. And, deep down, he wanted to look good for Lucy.
~*~
After close to four weeks of preparation Lucy was appalled that she was actually nervous the night of the engagement party. Especially since there was no reason to be nervous…well, no real reason anyways.
Between her fashion sense and Elaina’s elegant advice, she was sure her clothes were beyond reproach. And since she’d been dieting for the last month, and back on her exercise routine—now that the shoulder injury from her horrid days at McDonalds was just a memory—she’d lost the ten pounds she’d been carrying around. Even without the aid of her dermatologist her skin was back to its usual lustrous, blemish-free self.
Red is so my color, Lucy thought as she gazed appreciatively at herself in the full length mirror she’d installed in her room. The dress she’d picked for the engagement party was a very deep, dark red silk, cut to show some cleavage—but not that much— and formfitting enough to show off her newly regained figure. The hem came a little over the knee with a slit up the thigh. She loved the dress. With its perfect little silk straps and a skirt that felt daring and elegant at the same time.
The dress was truly romantic. It would be something she would wear herself, if one day she was actually going to tie-the-knot.
That thought made her a little sad. Wasn’t this real? Did it not count? And if it did count, did it count against the years of happiness she would have waiting for her on the other side of this little arrangement?
Shit! She thought, pulling her hair up in a lovely twist on the top of her head. Her hair was back to its old manageable self. If anything, it looked a little better than it had.
Lucy stared at herself in the mirror and willed herself to stop thinking about it. It didn’t matter if this counted or not. This was a means to an end…the end of her life of poverty, which—though short lived—had been both excruciating and humiliating.
No. Fake engagement or phony marriage, this was the means. It would buy her back her life and a chance at happiness after high school—no matter how bad her father had screwed things up for them.
Lucy slipped on the yummy pair of matching red Italian leather shoes Elaina had found for her at a boutique two hours away. She was now ready. Ready to meet her future in-laws, and the family—the rather large family, from all reports—she’d only seen so far in pictures and via word of mouth from Elaina, Dante, and Mr. Excitement himself, Gabe.
She still called him that even though he gave her the evil eye every time, and even though he threatened to expose her relationship with Mr. Gordo. She knew, though, that he wouldn’t expose Mr. Gordo. That was just a bit of verbose idle threatening. Actually, Lucy got the feeling that Gabe was starting to warm up to her. After many long dinners in his huge office at Enoch Industries, going over his past—where he went to school, college, grad school (he didn’t seem old enough to have done all of that, but he had the diplomas and the way about him.)
Lucy had seen that way in her father, a graduate of Stanford himself. She also saw it in Dante. All three were extremely well educated, and had a natural affinity to the work they did.
She looked at her reflection once more into the full-length mirror. Gabriel will like the way I look…right? She shook the question off. Of course he’ll like the way she looked. She looked freaking sensational!
Though Gabe seemed rather cold and detached for his age, it was part of what was making him interesting to Lucy. There was nothing on this earth that was more boring than listening to a nerd talk hours on end about his life. “I went to MIT; didn’t make one friend, never had a single date. Then I went to work for Microsoft; never made one friend, never had a single date. Then I built myself an android girlfriend, her name was Heather. She didn’t like me either.”
But talking with Gabe wasn’t boring. He was actually passionate about the family business. And he obviously had as many friends as he had family members. His office was lined with their photos. She’d seen smaller graduating classes from high schools.
Maybe she was a much older woman, this inappropriate lady love of his? Not an old hag, no…just maybe a cougar. That was an interesting thought.
I can’t bring home my girlfriend because she graduated the same year as my mom.
Lucy smiled as she got into her shiny new car. She didn’t like having to park it so far away from the house. But better the inconvenient walk than explaining how she’d gotten it to her mom and Grandmother. Sooner or later, she supposed, she would have to break the news to her family. After all, there would be the wedding, and the wedding announcement.
Suddenly, as she turned the key in the ignition, she had a horrifying thought.
Would there be an engagement announcement in the paper?
Crap!
But maybe the announcement would only be in the papers in San Bernardino? Yeah, but what if one of Mom’s old friends calls her up to congratulate her on her daughter’s good fortune. Marrying up in the world.
Lucy’s head swam with terrible thoughts as she sat there, the car purring in idled. She pulled out her phone and called Gabe. He picked up on the third ring.
“Is there going to be an announcement in the paper?”
“Lucy?” She could hear people in the background—more than just a few. It sounded like a prom.
“Yes, it’s me. Now tell me there’s not going to be something in the paper about all this. If so, I’ve got some major damage control to do when I get home tonight.”
“Calm down, calm down! My family is pretty private, so no, there won’t be any announcements.”
Lucy let out a long, slow breath. So she was safe…for now.
“Are you on your way? People are arriving already.”
“Sure...I’m on my way.”
“How long will you be?” He sounded anxious, and then Lucy heard why.
“Hey, Gabriel!” A nasally woman’s voice rang through the connection. “Where is this fiancée we’ve all been hearing about?”
“I’m talking to her right now, Aunt Junipa…” Junipa? “She’ll be here any time now.”
“That’s marvelous. Everyone is salivating to meet her.”
Lucy suddenly felt like the main course at a banquet. This night was going to be rough.
“So when are you going to be here?” Gabe asked again in a whisper.
How am I going to tell him I’m just getting on the freeway? She stamped her foot down on the gas and the hot little sports car took off like a rocket. As long as she was going too fast for the police to see her as she passed by, then things would be fine…right?
Riiight…
“Half an hour…give or take.”
~*~
Smoke rolled out from the tires as Luc
y skidded the car to a halt in front of the La Companion Refectory: yet another, very exclusive, very large dining venue. She remembered Gabe saying that they had rented out the entire place. Suddenly Lucy wondered how many people were going to be there.
A valet jogged out to the car and opened the door for her. He offering his hand to assist her, but she smiled and said, “No thanks.” She swung her legs free of the car and smoothed the hem of her dress as she stood. The valet was young, a bit older than Lucy, and he made a little breathy whistle as he took in the sight of her.
Excellent, Lucy thought. I’ve still got it. Then she thought, Pig…
A door man ushered her through the front doors, and standing there in a freshly pressed black linen suit stood Frank Luvici. Not only was the suit tailored and wrinkle free, but his shoes shined and his hair was neatly slicked back. “Nice driving. I can smell the burnt rubber from here.”
Lucy smiled. Only a few weeks ago Luvici had made her ill. But since then he’d grown on her like some sort of likable mold. She gave him a wide eyed once over.
“Who knew you could clean up.” She winked at him. “Who’d you borrow the suit from?”
Luvici gave her a lopsided grin then offered her his arm. “Funny.” He led her past what could only be described as three human Rottweilers. They were all in matching tuxedoes, and they had the same body types—muscular to the point they had no necks.
The muscle in the middle moved to open another set of doors.
“Everybody’s been waiting for you,” Luvic said. “The family’s been practically drooling with anticipation.”
“I heard.” Lucy smiled at the way both Gabe and Luvici had described the family’s anticipation. Lucy looked up at Luvici. “So what are you doing here, looking all dapper?”
“Dapper, really?”
Lucy nodded. “You look fantastic.”
“Well, I couldn’t miss you meeting the family. It’s just one of those things, like train wrecks and reality television.”
Lucy rolled her eyes at him. “Very funny.”