Wrong Question, Right Answer

by Elle Casey

  Marc looks at me with a question in his eyes, but his hand comes out slowly and he takes the end of May’s fingers to give them a little shake before letting go. Both of his arms fall to his sides, the weapon in his pants temporarily forgotten.

  I don’t find any relief in that, though, because I have a feeling the more he gets to know May, the happier he’s going to be about the idea of shooting us. This is only a temporary reprieve. My mind is racing to generate ideas about how to extricate ourselves from this mess, but it’s coming up empty.

  I clear my throat before speaking. “Uhhh, Allison . . . I was just chatting with . . .” I stop myself just in time from saying his name, thank God, “. . . uh . . . this guy here, so maybe you could wait in the car . . .”

  “Marc,” he says, winking at me.

  “Marc,” I repeat. “I was chatting with Marc.” My pulse is thumping hard in my neck. My fight-or-flight instinct is kicking, too. I use all my willpower to tamp it down, like I always do. No one looking at me would know I’m sweating this.

  “I heard you guys,” she says brightly, “and it didn’t seem like you were getting to the point, so that’s why I decided to get out and help you along.” She gives me a giant smile before turning her attention to our target. “We’re here scoping out the area for my wedding. And I don’t mean to offend you when I say this, but can I just say that your neighborhood would be amazing for it. Ah-may-zing.”

  His face is screwed up as he tries to figure out what she’s actually saying. “A wedding? For who?”

  “For me, of course.” She gives him another brilliant, ridiculous smile. “It’s the newest thing, haven’t you heard?” She looks around, breathing in deeply and letting out a long, satisfied sigh. “The urban wedding. Staged in the most raw of neighborhoods. It’s amazing. The photographs I’ve seen would just blow your mind.” She throws her arm out straight and moves it sideways, doing a slow, horizontal pan of the houses across the street. “Could you imagine? Tents on the front lawn. Old jalopies fixed up and painted gold.” She stops and looks at Marc, her arm still raised. “You know those cars that go up and down with hydraulics? I’d want some of those. Maybe one that’s purple and one that’s blue, too, because those are my colors.” She looks at me and nods. “Can you see it? It would be perfect.” She goes back to Marc, putting her hands on her hips. “Do you have friends with those kinds of cars? Do you think they would let me rent them for the day?”

  Marc shakes his head, looking her up and down. “Bitch, you crazy.”

  May looks offended. I can’t tell if she’s faking it or if she really feels that way. “Did you just call me the b-word?” For a second she seems frozen in time. Then she smiles and laughs, rushing over to throw her arms around Marc’s shoulders. “That is so perfect! You are so in character. I would love for you to come to the wedding. I’m going to need your contact information.” She releases him from her chokehold and pulls her cell phone out of her back pocket, standing poised and ready. “Give me your number. I’m totally inviting you to my wedding.”

  He points at her and looks at me. “Is she serious?”

  All I can do is shrug. The only explanation for what’s happening here is I’ve accidentally eaten a poisonous mushroom and fallen down into a giant, mystical rabbit hole. It explains everything, including Alice Inwonderland’s cover name.

  May waves in my general direction, her eyes never leaving her phone. “Don’t worry about Gigi,” she says, apparently referring to me. “She started out as just my neighborhood consultant, but we’ve become really good friends. She’s totally coming to the wedding too.” She looks at me and then Marc, winking. “You guys could maybe hook up. You know that’s how the best relationships start . . . at other people’s weddings.” She turns her attention fully on Marc. “What was your phone number?”

  It’s like the guy’s in a trance. He fires off some digits and May quickly types them into her phone.

  “Perfect. Perfect, perfect, perfect. I am so going to invite you. Maybe I could call you if I have other questions? I need to rent several things and maybe you can help me source them.”

  He’s smiling now. “Things like what?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Where do you guys have your gatherings? Like your quinceañeras and stuff like that? I think I’d like to incorporate some of that stuff into my wedding, too. Make it more urban authentic.”

  He doesn’t say anything, his expression slowly going stormy.

  She smiles, but she’s not looking quite as confident as she was a minute earlier. “Well, don’t worry about it. You think on it, and I’ll get back to you.” She suddenly looks at her watch and acts overly dismayed. “Oh no! We’re going to be late!”

  “We are?” I’m afraid to ask what we’re late for, but of course that’s not going to stop Alice Inwonderland Guckenburger from telling the world.

  “Yes! Of course we are. Remember? We’re going to go get our mustaches waxed together.”

  Marc starts to snicker and backs away, his hand going up to his mouth.

  I’m fuming, ready to wring her neck. I battle to keep my voice calm. “Oh, yeah. Our mustaches. How could I forget?” My smile is tighter than tight.

  May looks up at Marc and gives him a little wave. “It was nice to meet you, Marc. I’ll be talking to you soon. Come on, Gigi, let’s go. We don’t want you giving anyone the cactus treatment when you kiss him now, do we?” She pushes me toward the passenger side of the van and goes around to the driver’s side herself.

  I walk past Marc with my head down, my face flaming red. How did I lose control of that situation so quickly and so completely? And where and how does May come up with this crap?

  I decide the answer as to why I lost control has to lie with Lucky. I’m distracted because of what happened between us almost two weeks ago, and, as a result, I’ve been thrown completely off my game. As to how May comes up with this crap? I have no theory on that other than the one suggesting she’s a complete maniac who obviously has a lot of juice up in heaven; she must have ten guardian angels watching out for her to get away with the nonsense she does.

  “See you around, Gigi,” Marc says as I get into the van.

  God, I hope not. “Maybe,” I say out loud, affecting a casual air I definitely do not feel.

  I wait until we’re in the van and driving away before I grab a hunk of May’s hair and yank it.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Ow! What’d you do that for?” May holds her head as she drives, scowling at me.

  “Don’t ask me that stupid question. You know very well why I did that. You could’ve gotten us both killed.”

  I have no idea how she’s driving through the neighborhood streets so smoothly. She’s normally not this cool after dealing with a stressful situation. If I were behind the wheel right now, we’d be laying rubber all over town getting away. I have enough adrenaline in me to power an elephant, and besides, nobody under the age of seventy drives slow around here; it looks suspicious. May can get away with it because anyone looking at her would know she doesn’t belong here.

  She’s looking way too satisfied as she pulls out onto Tulane Avenue. “Are you kidding? I totally just handled that guy.”

  I snort. “You’re lucky he didn’t handle you. What was wrong with what I was doing? What made you feel like you had to intervene?”

  “For your information, he was standing in the perfect position for me to look in the side mirror and see his backside. While you were handling things, he was reaching into his waistband pulling his gun out.” She glares at me. “So you tell me what you think his next move was going to be. Huh? What do you think? You think he was just going to compare bullets with you?”

  I feel a little sick to my stomach. “I saw his hands going back there. I knew he had a gun.”

  “Yeah, but did you know he was taking it out? And did you know that when somebody bothers to take their firearm out in public, they usually intend to use it?”

  I have to grit my teet
h to keep from yelling at her. “Yes, I’ve attended the same training you have.”

  “So then you know that when we see something like that about to happen, our job is to defuse the situation, which I did. So instead of pulling my hair out, you can say, ‘Thank you very much, May,’ and then I’ll say, ‘You’re welcome, Toni.’” She has her nose up so high it’s almost hitting the ceiling.

  Guilt nags at my conscience. There’s more than a little bit of truth to what she’s saying, and we both know it. At this point, for me to continue denying it would be silly; but it really kills me to admit this out loud.

  “Fine. You handled it. I was handling it, but you handled it better. Thanks for the backup.”

  “You’re welcome. And thank you for rolling with my plan, even though I didn’t share it with you in advance.”

  I nod. As if I had a choice.

  “So, what do we do now?” May asks.

  “We go back and tell everybody what happened. Put it in a report like usual.”

  May glances at me funny when we’re at the next stoplight. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

  The way she asks it gets my back up. “Why wouldn’t I? I don’t hide things from the team.”

  She shakes her head. “I wasn’t suggesting that you do . . . I was just thinking that maybe . . .”

  “Listen, I’m not mad at you. And I can take my lumps. If I did something wrong, if I created a training opportunity for the team, that’s just the way it goes. I’m not perfect, and I’m not too proud to admit when I’ve got stuff to learn.”

  “Even when it’s me? Even when I might be someone who could teach you something?”

  I stare straight out the windshield because I don’t want her to see the expression on my face. Honestly, it is hard for me to take lessons from May. She’s green. She’s one of the rookies on our team, and I’ve been working the streets for years now. But the fact is, sometimes her harebrained schemes work out better than the ones that I consider to be more rational. I guess she has the element of surprise attack down better than I do. I’m more subtle, but apparently subtlety doesn’t always get the job done.

  I sigh in defeat. “Yes. Even when it’s you. I’m cool.”

  “Awesome. Because we have twenty minutes before we get back to the warehouse, and I really want to talk to you about something very important.”

  I look over at her, literally fearing the enthusiasm in her voice. “Oh, yeah? What is it?” I pray she’s not going to tell me that she wants to hook me up with a one-on-one training session featuring her as my instructor. I’m afraid I won’t be able hold it together if I hear that. I’m only human, after all.

  “I was going to take you out to lunch and ask you this, but maybe it’s more appropriate to do it in the van where we’ve had so much of our relationship develop and become special.”

  Every word out of her mouth brings me closer to the edge of panic. I’m more afraid of what she’s going to say next than I was of Marc’s gun.

  “Ozzie and I would like to know if you would do us the honor of being one of my bridesmaids.”

  A groan escapes my lips as I imagine that actually happening. I attempt to cover it up with a different kind of verbal reaction. “Ohhhh. Boy. Wouldn’t that be special.” I wipe the sweat droplets off my upper lip with the back of my hand.

  “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or if you’re mocking me right now.” She glances sideways at me.

  “Oh, I’m being serious. It would be very special.” I’m picturing myself in a dress that makes me look like some sort of rainbow-colored ice cream sundae explosion. It’s not pretty. In fact, it’s quite hideous. I stare out the side window, wishing the traffic lights would all turn green so we could get back to the port faster. Come on, come on . . .

  “Excellent.” She’s smiling again; I can hear it in her voice. “I’m so excited. I already have the dresses picked out, and Jenny said yes too, of course, and since I would like to keep it kind of a small thing, it’s just going to be you two. But don’t worry . . . I’ll have two flower girls and two ring bearers, so it won’t exactly be a tiny wedding party.”

  “Fantastic.” I’m not really listening anymore. She’s going on and on about colors and locations and cakes and flowers and God knows what else, but all I can think about is how miserable I’m going to be.

  I knew this was coming, that Ozzie would make an honest woman of May and that she’d settle for nothing less than a ring and a church and the whole shooting match, but I’ve been hoping it would be a while before that happened. Their relationship and what it’s done to our team and to my friendship with Ozzie is still fresh. It’s still raw. I’m not angry about it, but I wouldn’t say I’m comfortable with it either.

  I really wish I could fast-forward over this part of my life and get to the end part where I’m cool with everything. I’m being rushed into something I’m not ready for, but it’s not exactly my life, is it?

  May’s voice leaks into my consciousness. “Are you listening to me?”

  I look over at her. “Oh, yeah. I heard every word you said.”

  “Oh, yeah? What color are my flower arrangements going to be, then?”

  My brain buzzes through all the words that may have filtered in. “Red?” It’s a shot in the dark; I have no idea.

  She rolls her eyes. “I knew you weren’t paying attention. I said pink, Toni. Pink flowers. Please . . . red? Too bold. Red is for bold people like you. Pink is for softer people like me.”

  That makes me laugh. For the first time all day I feel a little bit of joy slipping into my heart. “You’re not bold?”

  She looks offended. “No, I’m not bold. I’m soft and demure.”

  I’m laughing so hard, I have to hold my stomach to keep it from exploding. I feel like I’ve done twenty sets of crunches.

  “I don’t see what’s so funny.”

  We’re pulling up to the warehouse door when I can finally speak normally again. “You’re the girl who just basically attacked a gangbanger and forced him to give his phone number so that she could invite him to her ‘urban wedding’ in his ’hood.” I shake my head. “If that shit ain’t bold, I don’t know what bold is.”

  She sniffs as she presses the button that will open the door. “I was just going with the moment.”

  I snort. “Yeah. Going with the moment in the boldest, baddest-ass way you possibly could have. There was nothing demure about that, let me tell you. If you’re using pink flowers, they’d better be hot pink.”

  She’s smiling as she pulls the van into the warehouse.

  I look at her and can’t help but smile too. “What are you so happy about?”

  She throws the van into park and turns the ignition off, looking over at me with a goofy expression on her face. “The baddest-ass girl I know just called me badass.” She grins harder. “Why wouldn’t I be happy?”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I leave May to her photograph and video uploading in the cubicles and head upstairs, expecting to find Ozzie and Thibault. But when I get there, it’s just Lucky sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in front of him. I hesitate in the doorway, wondering if I should turn around and leave. This is the first time I’ve seen him at work in a while and it’s immediately awkward. A tiny slice of regret slides through me. We probably should have just left everything alone, but it’s too late now.

  “Hey there,” he says, a smile lighting up his face.

  I walk into the room, my heart speeding up a little. He’s happy to see me, and I’m happy to see him too; I might as well admit it. A grin breaks out across my face, unbidden. “Hey there.”

  I sit down in the chair across from him, looking at my fingers as they fumble around together. I don’t know what to do with my hands, when normally I don’t give them a second thought. “What’s up?” I ask, hoping he won’t notice my nervousness.

  “Not much. Just finished up a meeting with Jenny, and I was sitting here wondering what I’m supposed to d
o with the rest of my day.”

  “I just finished with May.” I shake my head. “She’s crazy.”

  Lucky stands, pushing his chair back with his legs. “Come on. You can tell me all about it over drinks.”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to say no, but instead I shrug. With my assignment done for the day, I don’t really have anything better to do. I should probably write a report about what happened with Marc the gangbanger and Alice Inwonderland, but that can wait until later. It’s not like I’m going to forget it.

  I stand with Lucky, then lean over and grab his coffee cup to take it to the sink for him as he walks to the door.

  When I join him there he smiles. “Thanks. You’re a pal.”

  I slug him in the gut as I walk past and he bends at the waist, pretending to be injured. I can’t stop smiling as I move through the sword room.

  “My car or yours?” I ask.

  “Are you kidding? My car, of course.”

  I turn around and walk backward so I can glower at him. “What’s that supposed to mean? My car is nice.”

  “Yeah, but when we’re in your car, you’re always driving.”

  I stop at the door leading out to the warehouse. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I narrow my eyes at him, trying to decide if he’s messing with me or insulting me for real.

  His eyebrows go up. “Oh, nothing. Forget I said anything.” He slides past me, speeding up and practically running down the stairs.

  I follow him, shaking my head. He doesn’t know me very well if he thinks I’ll chase him. He’ll pay for his comments later, though. I’m an excellent driver, and everybody here knows it. Maybe I’ll get behind the wheel of his vehicle and throw a few donuts in a parking lot somewhere so he can learn better than to mess with me. I smile, imagining the look on his face as the exterior of the car spins by our windows . . .