by Gina LaManna
“I stopped by to see how things went with Kim today.” Anthony’s business face was on again, his demeanor professional and chilly at best.
“Oh, fudge.” I jumped up. “I totally forgot. Meg kind of used a lock picking set from an evidence locker to get us in here. Mr. Kim wasn’t around when we knocked on his door, and we couldn’t just leave the couch in the hallway. Then, I fell asleep.”
I patted down my pants while Anthony watched. Finally, I retrieved a crinkled envelope. “Here we go. How we gonna do this?”
Anthony’s eyes followed the wad of cash tucked in the envelope.
I flapped it against my palm. It contained sixteen hundred dollars of cold, hard cash.
“This is a regular apartment deal, right? You’re not trading anything I’m unaware of?” Anthony’s eyes bored straight into mine.
“No, of course not.” I tried my best to look offended at the suggestion.
“Then I would propose you simply go and give him the money if he’s home. Is there a lease to sign?”
“No, it’s month to month,” I said.
Anthony looked like he wanted to comment, thought better of it, and plunked his firm, lean frame on the couch. The cushions bent under his well-shaped behind, and I had half a mind to hop right onto his lap.
Instead, I gave a long, drawn-out sigh and clomped to the door. “I’ll be right back.”
I climbed the three flights to the top level and knocked once on the door. It was opened after a second set of knocks, and Mister Kim looked anything but ecstatic to see me. His eyes traveled briefly down to my hands, and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of the envelope. The smallest, fakest of smiles curled his lips upwards.
“You have my money?” He reached a hand out.
“Sixteen hundred. I get eight hundred back when I move out, right?” I asked.
“Yes, of course.” He nodded and thumbed through the hundreds, frowning slightly at the fives and ones at the end. It wasn’t my fault – I’d wanted to get rid of the cash I’d had on hand and avoid going to the bank if possible. It was always so annoying to wait in line at the bank. Plus there was the fact I’d forgotten my PIN, so I couldn’t exactly visit an ATM anyway.
“Your friend with the cake, she said you’re having a housewarming party?” he asked, once he’d finished counting the money and handing me a key.
“Uh, well, yes. Er – maybe. I don’t know yet.” I looked around. “Well, can I have one?”
“Am I invited?”
“Sure,” I said. “If you want to be. Maybe I’ll put together a small thing tomorrow.”
“You will have more cake?” He squinted his eyes at me. “The kind with the cookie crumbled in between?”
“Yeah, definitely.” I nodded vigorously, not quite sure why I wanted to please this man. Maybe it was survival instinct, and I just didn’t want to die if he was mixed up with the bad guys.
Mister Kim turned to go back inside his apartment. As if he’d just had a last thought, he turned back as I reached the top of the staircase. “Your friend – she doesn’t sleep over, got it? Sounds like a garbage truck, the snores.” I nodded and thunked down the steps, realizing I hadn’t even bothered to put shoes on to leave my apartment. I slipped out my phone and made a phone call to Nicky.
“Hey, you and your buddies wanna help me move some stuff in?” I asked. “Hundred bucks plus an invitation to the housewarming party. You guys can come tomorrow afternoon to unload and just stay for the party.” There was a pause on the other end of the line.
“Yes,” I added. “There will be cake. The kind with the cookie crumbles in between.”
I hung up after Nicky had agreed to round up his buddies and unload my meager belongings tomorrow. The sound of Meg’s snores had stopped, and when I entered the apartment she was sitting on one end of the couch staring directly at Anthony, who sat on the other end of the couch and stared directly forward.
Without taking her eyes off Anthony, Meg asked, “Where will there be cake?”
“Here. Tomorrow,” I said. “Housewarming party. You’re both invited.”
Anthony groaned and Meg did one quick, vicious fist pump.
“Anthony,” I said. “On that same note, could you take us to Dairy Queen to pick up some extra cake?” Meg looked as if two of her dreams had just come true.
Anthony groaned even louder. “I have to be somewhere.”
“Please? Five minutes away. Real quick. I’ll owe you one.” I caught his gaze. “A big one.” His expression darkened suddenly, and a shot of warmth sparked in my stomach.
Meg looked between us. “Girl, I don’t think you know what you just signed up for.”
Anthony rose from the couch and approached me where I stood, cowering against the door. Meg chose this moment to walk away and find the bathroom.
“You know I don’t let debts go unpaid.” Anthony leaned forward, his strong frame swallowing me as he put one arm on either side of my body. He pressed me against the wall, and when he tipped my chin upwards, it was all I could do not to sink to the floor, back squeaking against the wall on the way down.
He pressed his warm lips to mine, but this time the kiss was gentle and longing. It wasn’t hard and fast like before, and my mind was even more blown; this man had it all.
I think I might’ve whimpered a little bit because his hand dropped from my chin and slid behind my back, holding me up as he leaned even further into me. At some point, I started running out of breath. Whether it from the closeness of him or the pressure against the wall, I couldn’t be sure. I was huffing for air when he stepped away and pushed through the front door.
“Get your shoes,” he informed me with the tone of a parent chastising a lazy child. “I’ll be in the car.”
Meg returned from the bathroom. She fanned herself. “Damn, I can feel the heat from here. When are you guys gonna just do it already?”
“We’re not doing anything,” I scoffed. “He works for my grandfather. It can never happen.”
“Never say never.”
“Well, I just said never. Carlos would freak.”
“What are you doing then? Why are you torturing yourself like this?” Meg blocked the door, her arms crossed like the meanest bouncer in the world. “You’re not leaving ‘til I get some explanations, girlie.”
“Now? Why?”
“Because I know you had your heart broken over Blake. And you want to be with him but it ain’t working out. And now you got Anthony over here, and you’re letting him mess with your head. I mean, the man is spicy hot, so I don’t blame you. I’d gobble him up myself like a leg of fried chicken if I got half the chance, but it ain’t me he’s interested in.”
“I don’t know,” I murmured, hanging my head. “Stop making me feel bad about myself.”
Meg walked over and tugged me towards the center of the living room, plopping me down on the couch. Except the tug was more like a tornado, and it knocked me right off my feet and onto my butt.
“I’m not trying to make you feel bad. You haven’t done nothin’ wrong. But I don’t like when people mess with my homegirl, you know what I’m saying?” Meg cracked her knuckles. “If Punchy and Champ gotta have a talk with someone, you just let me know.”
I put a hand over Meg’s outstretched fist, but I couldn’t help the broad smile sneaking across my face. “You’re a good friend. But let’s put Poundy and Champ away.”
“Punchy.”
“Punchy, sorry.”
“Also known as Grabby. You know, for the more sexual pos—”
“Got it. Punchy, also known as Grabby. But seriously, Meg. I don’t know what to do. I thought I wanted to be with Blake. And obviously I still see him...uh, regularly. But I don’t know how to turn it into something more.”
“You don’t want to tell him about the Family?”
“Not yet. Plus, he wants kids right away. And marriage. I’m barely standing on my own two feet. There’s a chance I’ll want that down the line, I think. But
not now.”
“Well, that’s a problem.”
“Yeah. But I can’t seem to stay away from him. And with Anthony...he’s the first guy that’s shown interest in me that doesn’t make me miss Blake, but I can’t be with him. He doesn’t exactly come across as the dating type, so it wouldn’t work on multiple levels. But—”
Meg’s eyes softened. “I know, chickadee. It’s not easy, but you’ll figure it out.”
Chapter 10
WE TROOPED OUT TO THE car after Meg dragged me off the couch. She whistled at the sight of Anthony leaning against his spiffy black Lambo. Speaking out of the corner of her mouth, Meg leaned towards me. “Remember everything I just said?”
“What about it?”
“Yeah, well, until you figure things out with Blake...have fun with this guy. For me.”
I grinned. “I’ll do my best.”
“He’s a hot piece of man meat, he’s into you, and his car is gonna make me explode into flames right on the spot,” Meg said. “If you don’t want him, I’m happy to pick up the slack.”
I was rather thrilled that we had to get into the car at that moment, because I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted from Anthony. One night? Many nights? Nights that rolled into the next morning? My mind wandered from one crazy thought to another as we skirted my new neighborhood.
“Did you have anything to do with that?” Anthony nodded towards the destruction that was the former drive-through arch and Dairy Queen sign.
“Don’t answer that,” I said to Meg as she opened her mouth. “I know our rights. We plead the fifth.”
“Isn’t it the tenth?” Meg asked. “You know, on account of there’s two of us?”
“Let’s go,” I said, rolling my eyes at Meg as I slid out of the beautiful black vehicle.
Ten minutes later, laden with four cakes and six Dilly Bars, Anthony let us out in front of my new apartment complex without ever bringing the car to an actual stop.
Before we could even get to the door, I saw Clay parking his van and hustling over to join us on the lawn. He didn’t wait thirty seconds before snatching a Dilly Bar from the bag.
“Hey, that’s the Heath one,” I cried, but my arms were too full to fight him off. Clay shrugged.
“Fine, you can have my Heath bar, but I need you to help me with something in return. No backing out,” I said.
“Like what?” Clay helped Meg inside, relieving her of one of the cakes and leaving me to struggle with my load.
“Like signing up for a visit to the spa.” Clay looked like he regretted taking my ice cream, blanching at my request.
“What about that one program you mentioned earlier? The computer thing, where the program can recognize people based on their pictures?” I asked, trying to catch his attention any way possible. “Plus you get an invite to my awesome housewarming party tomorrow night, and everyone will be there.”
“The facial recognition system?” Clay crooked an eyebrow, and I could tell the computer lingo captured more of his attention than the idea of a party. “And who is everyone?”
“I’ll be there.” Meg winked in his direction. “You won’t need anyone else.” Clay looked down and mumbled something.
“Make the appointment.” I handed over my phone.
“Wait,” Clay said “I need—”
“You don’t need anything,” I hissed. “It’s a stupid phone call.”
Clay took a deep breath. “What I was going to say is that I brought some gear in my baby.”
“Ew – don’t call your pervy van baby, ya weirdo,” I said, making a face.
Clay ignored me. “This stuff I brought should let me triangulate the location of the phone call I’ll be placing.”
“What do you mean?” Meg bit off a hunk of ice cream like she was a lioness tearing into an antelope.
“It means that we’ll know exactly who the call is going to. We already know that it’s Mister Kim, but we’ll be able to locate where he is, or where whoever answers the phone is. That way, we’ll catch him red-handed booking appointments. If the appointments turn out to be...”
Clay reddened.
“Services,” Meg supplied.
“Er, yeah.” Clay fiddled with his phone. “Prostitutes. Then, we’ll have him connected with the ring absolutely. If he hasn’t booked an appointment that we know of, he could plead innocent.”
“Makes sense,” I said. “Carlos will like that. So, what do we need to do to set this operation up?”
“GORGEOUS,” MEG DRAWLED. “Simply marvelous.”
I scrunched my nose. Not exactly what I’d call gorgeous, but pretty darn effective, all things considered.
Clay was outfitted in loose jeans and a t-shirt, a new-ish zip-up hoodie hanging loosely across his shoulders. On his body were no less than six technological gadgets, including two contact lenses that could scan someone’s face. There was also a battery pack strapped somewhere, though I didn’t ask the details of where the pouch was located.
Clay excitedly claimed that his technology was just as good as the CIA’s, if not better. It could transmit instantly, sending information back to a computer in my apartment that would immediately begin searching for a match in its database.
It was a good thing Clay always traveled with a computer, because my laptop had gone kaput a few months back and I hadn’t bothered to replace it. My phone did all the e-mailing and Googling I needed.
“All right. So, you’re all set?” I shifted the zipper on Clay’s hoodie, which doubled as an audio mic. “We’ll give Mister Kim a call and you’ll tell him you’d really like an appointment ASAP?”
“Oh, yeah.” Clay finally looked excited. He was at home in his tech-ed out attire. “You bet.”
“Cool. Here ya go.” I handed him his phone.
Suddenly Clay’s expression slid from one of giddy anticipation to one of absolute dread. “You did say that I didn’t have to actually do anything with those girls, right?”
I shook my head no, but Clay still looked horrified. I rested an arm around my cousin’s shoulder. “I promise that you don’t have to do anything. We just want to make sure that it’s going to happen, and then you can ditch.”
“Just say you got a sudden bout of gas or something,” Meg said.
“Or, you know, that something came up,” I said. “We have time to think of a reason before it comes to that.”
“I’m just saying...that’s a tactic that works. I know. Experience.” Meg nodded.
“Anyway,” I said. “We just need to make sure that the intent is there before I pass the info along to Carlos. I want to be sure that there’s no mistaking the intention of this appointment.”
“Do you know what?” He shook his head back and forth in a vehement no. “I think you’re just using me for my body.”
“Now you know how us beautiful ladies feel,” Meg said, preening and flipping her hair back.
“I’ve never used anyone for their body,” Clay said. “That’s just...so wrong.”
“Lots of men would pay for this service,” Meg chipped in, sweeping a hand down her body like she was showcasing a car on The Price is Right.
“Which is unfortunately what put us here in the first place,” I said. “Clay, will you please help us? You don’t have to do anything. Just make sure there’s intent, and we’ll get you out of there.”
“What’s in it for me?” Clay asked.
“You want a cut of the money?” I asked.
“Nah.” He shook his head.
“Then what?” I asked.
Clay tapped a finger against his chin. When his eyes lit up, I knew I was in trouble.
“I got it,” he said, his face glowing. “When you move back I get to keep the apartment like it is.”
“When I move back?” I retorted. “What do you mean? I just moved out.”
“Then you shouldn’t have an issue with the terms,” Clay said.
“Fine, then.” I stuck a hand on my hip and tried for haughty. “Deal. Easy
peasy.”
“Here we go,” Clay said, punching numbers into his cell. “My worst nightmare.”
Meg and I took seats on the couch, waiting in silence for the person on the other end of the phone line to pick up.
“Hello there,” Clay spoke into the phone. “I’m looking to book a, ahem, an appointment...Yes. One of the Happy Specials, please.”
I glanced at Meg, who was watching Clay intently.
“No, sixty minutes is plenty, thanks,” he said, his breath quickening.
“Today,” I mouthed.
Clay nodded. “I’d really like to get in this afternoon.”
I couldn’t understand the mumbling from the other end of the phone line.
“It’s been an incredibly stressful week and I can’t push it back,” Clay said, raising his voice. I was suddenly proud of my cousin’s acting ability. Clay broke into a smile just as I was starting to get antsy. “Twenty minutes? I’ll see you there.”
Meg gave me a very quiet high five.
“No, it doesn’t matter who it’s with.” Clay cringed. “As long as it’s a girl...oh, uh, of course they all are. Sorry. See you in a few.”
I looked up, a questioning look in my eyes as he hung up the phone. “So?” I asked. “Who made you the appointment?”
“It’s him. The location tracking puts him three levels above us, and I have the voice recorded if we ever need further verification.” Clay gave a small smile.
“Good job, cuz,” I said, giving Clay a high five as he wiped a huge amount of sweat from his steaming brow.
“Now, let’s get going,” I said. “The sooner we get to the bottom of this, the happier we’ll all be.”
Meg gave Clay a nice, firm slap on the tush. “That’s just a warm-up.”
IN ADDITION TO CLAY’S fancy pants gear, he still wore a murderous glare in his eyes. As I scanned him up and down with approval, I came to terms with the fact I couldn’t do much about that. The television was set up in front of my lopsided couch, from where Meg and I would watch the events unfold, transmitted by the contacts in Clay’s eyes.