by Gina LaManna
A knock sounded on the door.
“We?” Clay appeared in the kitchen looking like a marshmallow frozen in shock, complete with a human face. “I’ll distract him. You can shove it in here and get rid of it.”
“Get rid of it where?” I asked, accepting the solid garbage container he handed my way and pawing as much of the nastiness in as I could.
Clay yelled through the door, matching his words to the pace at which I shoveled. “Hey there, are you Michael? I’m Clay. I saw, er, heard from Lacey that you’re a huge computer guy. I’d love to show you something outside in my car. Do you have a sec? Lacey’s just finishing getting ready. You know, girls.”
I breathed a thank you in his direction. Clay slipped through a slit in the doorway and shut it quickly behind him, leaving me alone with Tupac and a floor of trash.
The two male voices faded down the hallway, and I stared at a sea of disgustingness. I let out a whimper. Then, I allowed myself a pity party lasting exactly twenty seconds. After I finished, I snapped into action and busted out the Swiffer, a pair of gloves, and industrial strength cleaning solution. I mopped with a fury I’d never mopped with before, until the floor sparkled and the trash tub was full of filth. Now, the tricky part – where to dispose of it?
I hurried over to the window after disposing of my gloves in the bin. Clay and Michael both emerged from Clay’s creep-van. I wondered briefly how bored Michael was on a scale of one to dead. As the two men walked towards me, Clay and I made eye contact through the living room window. I gave him the thumbs up and ran to the bathroom, wondering if I’d be able to flush the sludge down the toilet.
After the first flush gurgled and hiccupped in a decidedly gross fashion, I concluded it was a bad idea. What if he asked to use the restroom before we left?
I scurried through the hallway seeking a more reliable solution.
After trying and failing to shove the bin in the shower, I caught a glimpse of the dumpster that sat in the alley, directly below the bathroom window. I hated its location every Monday morning at six a.m. when I was attempting to snooze and the garbage man was attempting to drill into my skull with loud, clashing noises. However, today its location would do quite nicely.
I grabbed the sludge bucket and climbed on top of the toilet. With my sore muscles screeching for release, I begged and pleaded with my biceps to help me out. I hefted the bin up to eye level, and with a huge whoop of relief let it sail over the side and crash into the dumpster just as the kitchen door swung open.
“Wow, nice place you have here. Really clean. I’d have to pay someone to make my place sparkle like this.” Michael’s voice carried through the hallway.
“Yeah, I try,” Clay said as I emerged, an ugly smile frozen on my face.
Clay scratched his cheek.
“Yeah, I try, too. Harder,” I said stiffly.
Clay scratched his cheek again, this time so hard he left a red streak.
Michael glanced between us, obviously sensing the awkward interaction. “Hi there, Lacey, Clay here was just showing me his van. Really fascinating stuff, he’s quite a genius...”
I forgot to listen to what Michael was saying, because by this time Clay was scratching his face so hard I was afraid he’d peel off half his cheek.
“Sorry, Michael.” I held up a hand and addressed Clay’s nervous pawing. “Are you okay?”
“You just have a little...” Clay gestured to his cheek once more.
I felt myself redden as I raised my hand and swiped, seeing a chunk of green sludge on the back of my hand. “Thanks.”
“Anyway, brilliant guy.” Michael, thank the Lord, pretended not to notice. “Say, I was wondering, would you mind if I chatted with Clay for a few more minutes before we head out? He was in the middle of explaining something really cool...”
I looked at Michael closely, checking for signs that he might’ve been drugged or lying. “Did Clay threaten to sit on you if you didn’t listen to his babble about technology?”
“Babble?” Michael looked genuinely surprised. “Absolutely not. I can’t get enough. Clay’s a computer whiz like nobody I’ve ever met before.”
Clay looked more pleased than I’d seen him in ages. I remembered his sweet side, the crusty s’more waiting by my bed, for example, and refrained from indulging in the desire to grind my teeth.
It took effort, but I nodded graciously. “Of course. I was just going to, er, brush my teeth anyways.”
“Excellent. Thanks.” Michael kissed me on the cheek as he followed Clay into the living room, and I was reminded once again why I’d accepted the date in the first place. Soft lips, I told myself as I retired to my bedroom. Soft lips.
THREE AND A HALF HOURS later, Clay and Michael were still chatting. I’d changed from Blacky into my puffy yellow sweatshirt and a pair of shorts. I was on my second bag of popcorn and seventh episode of Friends, occasionally catching a word of their banter about bytes that had nothing to do with food and drives that had nothing to do with cars.
I looked at the clock, a wave of tiredness washing over my aching muscles. If Clay was intent on working out tomorrow that meant I’d have to go with him. And for some odd reason, I couldn’t imagine Anthony letting me off the hook this soon in our training schedule with a light day. I was to report to the gym four miserable days a week for three months as part of the initial package I’d been bullied into purchasing (on a nice, easy repayment schedule).
I shut my eyes and drifted off, just as I heard the boys’ voices getting louder from out in the living room.
“Yeah, I don’t think it’s a good idea for her to go traipsing around my side of town. There’s a lot of Russians in town, new to the area, and so far they’ve got a less than stellar track record with the cops,” Michael said.
“Is it safe for you over there?” Clay’s concern was genuine. I rolled my eyes under the safety of my bed covers.
“I’m fine, but you need to tell her to be more careful. Lacey wasn’t exactly discreet in that bar with her friend.”
Clay muttered something in return.
“What was she looking into, exactly? I only heard the tail end of the conversation. I’d love to help out if I could,” Michael volunteered, the curiosity evident in his voice.
I held my breath, hoping Clay wouldn’t say anything. I could imagine Carlos being none too happy about me bringing someone from outside the Family to help solve the case. Clay was one thing, but a stranger?
Clay mumbled something, then cleared his throat and tried again. “It’s boring, actually. Just a little something stolen. It’s not even worth calling the cops over. And certainly nothing worth chatting about now; I imagine I’ve used up most of your date night. I’m surprised Lacey hasn’t killed me, yet.”
“I’ll fix things with her, don’t you worry,” Michael said. I imagined him winking at Clay with his cocky confidence.
Darn right, I thought. He had some definite making up to do.
I squinched my eyes shut as a knock sounded on the door. “Lacey, can I come in?”
It was Michael.
I did a little, “Hmph.”
The door opened. The room was dark, and I huddled in a lumpy form under the covers, trying to control my breath and make it sound even. Except, the more I concentrated, the less I could remember what nice, normal breaths were supposed to sound like. I sounded like a wheezing horse.
“Lacey?” Michael whispered.
When I didn’t respond, he shut the door behind him and slid across the room. His movements were stealthy, like how I imagined a real secret agent might operate. I didn’t hear so much as a muffled footstep when, before I knew it, his breath tickled my neck from inches away. I let out a sigh, forgetting I was supposed to be sleeping.
“Lacey, I’m sorry.” Michael’s voice sounded truly apologetic. “I should have put a stop to our chat, but I’m sure you know how things go with Clay...he just seemed so excited to have a friend understand his computer lingo that I didn’t have the
heart to cut him short.”
I rolled over a bit, but still didn’t open my eyes. He sat next to me on the bed and began to slowly rub my shoulders. I molded underneath his firm hands. He magically knew exactly which spots needed to be massaged.
“I feel really stupid for what I did. Is there a way you could give me a second chance?”
His other hand joined the first in massaging my back, and I couldn’t help the moan that slipped from my throat. My muscles hurt so badly that there was no way I was telling him to stop.
But I was still angry with him.
Come on, Lacey, I reminded myself. Tell him where to shove his massage.
I rolled over.
“Am I forgiven?” he asked. “Please?”
His smile was cute, his teeth the only light in the nearly dark room, illuminated by the stream of moonlight seeping in through the window.
“No.” I rested my head on my squashy pillow.
“Can I make it up to you? Dinner tomorrow night? I’ll pick you up, and I promise you I won’t even come inside. I’ll give you a call when I’m out front and we’ll go eat, just the two of us.”
I pondered a moment. I didn’t exactly like the way he’d treated me tonight, but it wasn’t like he’d completely stood me up or flirted with other girls. It was Clay, after all, and my favorite cousin getting along with a potential suitor wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. In fact, I could think of a lot worse.
“Maybe,” I hedged. “Where would you take me?”
Michael paused in his back rubbing. “Believe it or not, I did ask Clay about you. It wasn’t all computer talk. How does Marinello’s sound?”
I rolled back over, face planting into my pillowcase. Face down, I squinched up my eyes. He’d made it extremely difficult to say no to the offer, on account of Marinello’s being my favorite restaurant in the entire metro area.
“Fine,” I said. “Make it lunch, though. I’m busy in the evening.”
Plus, they had a better lunch menu than dinner.
“Deal. I’ll pick you up at one.”
He leaned in and kissed me on the back of my head. His lips were just as soft as I’d imagined them.
But I was already drifting off to sleep, the massage having sunk in and done a fine job.
When the rubbing stopped and in place of Michael’s hands there was suddenly cold air, I asked, my voice grogged with sleep, “Wherrr you going?”
“I’m going to head home.” He leaned over and kissed my forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Lunch it is.”
I could tell he was backing away by his soft footsteps. “I also really like whipped cream. And popcorn. My favorites, in case you want to make me happy.”
“Bye, Lacey,” he whispered and slipped from the room.
Chapter 12
THE NEXT MORNING, WAKING up felt better than expected. Whether it was the massage, the s’more or the promise of a real first date, I couldn’t be sure. I stood and slipped on the yellow sweatshirt along with my trusty sweatpants.
I toddled into the kitchen, my legs feeling like shards of glass were pricking them with every step.
“Morning,” I called to Clay.
He mumbled a nonsensical greeting, and when I looked over, his ears were glowing a bright red.
“Oh, be an adult,” I said. “We patched things up.”
Filling my tank with sugar, coffee, and toaster strudels, I made my way to the bathroom in an attempt to make my face presentable to the world.
As I brushed my teeth, I popped my head back into the living room.
“I gowig tah mee wit Carloh,” I said, sudsy-mouthed.
“I’m not,” Clay said.
“Breah-fast will be served.”
“Didn’t you just eat?”
I shrugged.
He shook his head.
I went back and spat.
“Okay, I’m going to meet Carlos for breakfast and give him an update on the case. Then, we’re going to the gym.” I slammed the door before he could issue a response.
“SO, YOU HAVE NOTHING,” Carlos said over a cappuccino and croissant at the diner across the street from the Luzzi Laundromat. Peggy Sue, the ancient owner of the place, slopped more water into my empty glass and gave Carlos a wink as she backed away from the table.
I swear if it weren’t for Nora she’d have jumped his bones, as disgusting as that visual was.
I helped myself to another biscotti. “That’s not what I said at all. We have the main guy pegged – this Andrey character.” I crunched down on the crisp cookie. “I’m seeing him tomorrow. I’m going to his house to find out what was in that backpack. Then, I’ll find out which mole his uncle was talking about. If I can find the traitor, we’ll be fine.”
Carlos nodded slowly. “You’re going on a date with this man?”
“Uh, kind of. Think of it like a business date.” I twirled the biscotti in my mug. “Hey, does that mean I can expense it?”
At Carlos’s look, I shut up real quickly. “Never mind. Just joking, obviously.”
“I meet your boyfriends – all of them.”
My heart seemed frozen in my chest. “But, sir, you don’t understand. He’s not my boyfriend; he’s just a suspect for work. And you’re the boss. I think that’s a conflict of interest.”
“All of them.” The finality in his voice was painstakingly clear. It brought me back to all of the painful reasons that Blake and I were no longer together.
“I’m putting in a complaint; I think that’s really unfair. I’m an adult, and I don’t need you scaring away all of my boyfriends. This overprotectiveness needs to stop.”
“It’s for your best interest, Lacey.” Carlos sat back in his chair and waited while his water was filled. “You see, with age comes wisdom. I can judge character much better than you.”
“But that’s not the point, Carlos.” I lowered my voice as the people from the table next to us stopped their conversation to stare. “Didn’t you ever make a stupid mistake? I have to learn for myself. Don’t you see?”
Carlos surveyed me, and from his penetrating stare, I was almost convinced he understood where I was coming from.
“I don’t make stupid mistakes.”
...And the old Carlos was back.
“Look, I really appreciate everything you and Auntie Nora have done for me since mom died. I wouldn’t have my car without the job you gave me. Or my apartment. Or most of what I have.”
I paused and snapped up a bite of biscotti. “I just want a bit of normalcy in my life.”
“What makes you think I’d scare them away?” Carlos asked.
I gave him a look that covered everything. A look that said, because you are a scary, controlling mob boss, and despite the loyal, loving side of you that surely exists somewhere deep, deep inside, you kind of come off as ruthless and insensitive.
“I went on one date with that guy...” I started. I’d made the mistake of moving into Carlos and Nora’s mansion when my mother died. It’d lasted one month, max. In that time, I’d had one date, and let’s just say we hadn’t made it to the first course...and not by my choice. That’s when I’d decided to move in with Clay, after bonding with him over Thanksgiving.
“That man pulled up in a vehicle that had not one, but both headlights out. You think I’d let my granddaughter get in a car with someone who felt okay putting her in a dangerous situation? Lacey...” he shook his head.
“He worked as a dog walker! We were young. We barely had money for a pack of bubble gum, let alone a fancy...or fully functioning car. He probably saved up for weeks to buy that dinner.”
Carlos’s silence was a better response than I’d been hoping for. Maybe I’d at least made him think about how it had made me feel.
A flicker of understanding and regret passed across his eyes, but it was gone before I could latch onto it and make him see reason.
He leaned forward, eyes as calculating and stony as ever. “I apologize for your poor taste in men, Lacey. But
yes, you’re an adult and you deserve your freedom.”
I couldn’t believe my ears – what? Carlos, he was agreeing with me? I needed to flick on a tape recorder. It would be the first time in history we had a scoreboard reflecting Lacey – 1, Carlos – 0.
Then again, I didn’t have a tape recorder. Mental note: pick up a tape recorder for new job.
Carlos cleared his throat, and I remembered that I needed to listen to this.
He looked down at his espresso, and then met my eyes. “Now that you’re working for the Family, Lacey, we can’t take any chances. Any lapse in judgment on your part could take our entire family down.”
My mouth gaped open. “What – are you saying I’m stupid?”
“No.” Carlos looked around and dropped his voice to a whisper I had to lean forward to hear. “Your innocence and naïveté is what’s charming about you. It’s the one thing Nora and I were grateful to see when you returned to us – your mother gave you a good life. You were better off not knowing us.”
I remained silent, since I didn’t have an answer. I didn’t know what to think.
He shook his head slightly, as if afraid of getting too emotional, and continued in a dry tone. “But what’s happened has happened, and it’s in the past. Now, we’re left to worry about the future. I’m sure you’ll understand and cooperate; we simply cannot take the chance of you inadvertently giving information – albeit unknowingly, to the wrong team.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but wasn’t sure quite what to make of his assessment. Was it a compliment that I was naïve and innocent? Usually I could tell when Carlos was being mean or mocking me, and it didn’t feel like one of those times. My gut told me he was trying to be sincere and kind, but the moment was so unfamiliar that it was hard for me to recognize and accept. Plus, he wasn’t exactly a warm, cuddly teddy bear who spouted phrases like “I love you” and “We’re proud of you.”
“Fine,” I said. “I understand. Just please try not to scare people away.”