by Gina LaManna
“Great, you can come to Shotz for your date,” Meg said. “I’ll make sure you have a private table that’s not too sticky. One away from the human-sized Jenga I just bought for the bar, so you don’t get bricks tumbled into your Gigantor pickles.”
“Yeah, we’ll discuss the details later,” I said. “Thanks for the offer, though.”
“Just being a proper third wheel,” she said again, flicking the magazine shut. “Let’s go!”
Anthony heaved one of the suitcases onto his shoulder, striding without a second glance through the door and down to the car. I noticed a second too late that Meg hadn’t securely fastened the zipper on the suitcase, and a piece of her clothing dangled loosely from the opening. I watched through the window as Anthony lifted the suitcase into the car, mere seconds later. It was hard to suppress a snort of laughter as I realized that the dangling piece of clothing was, in fact, a pair of Meg’s undies. Highlighter pink in color.
Just as Anthony moved to shut the car door, they slipped out of the bag and fell into the street. I couldn’t hide my smile as Anthony’s face turned confused, then horrified, and then guilty, as he very carefully poked at the clothing garment with his toe. Glancing around to make sure he wasn’t being watched, he prodded the material into the gutter, straightened up, and marched back towards the house with his chin held extra high.
Ten minutes later, the car was loaded. It was amazing how fast he moved once Meg mentioned ovaries.
“Do you know where we’re going?” I asked Anthony.
I sat in the driver’s seat of my Lumina, leaning out the window, while Meg set herself up in the passenger’s seat. She propped one foot on the dashboard and one foot out the window.
Anthony stood on the other side of my door and gave a non-committal neck tilt.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I said.
“It’s part of my job,” he said, clearly distracted by the V-neck of my tank top. He reached a hand out, tugging at the collar line of my shirt. As I moved to swat him away, he gestured towards the suitcases in the trunk.
“Fine,” I said, allowing him a peek. He deserved a glimpse after all the manual labor. Fair is fair.
After a lengthy gaze, he gave a nod of approval and took a step back from the window. My gut twisted as we held each other’s eyes, neither of us ready to say goodbye.
“Thanks for moving the stuff for us.” I tried to keep my voice positive.
“You’re welcome, sugar.” Anthony leaned through my window, his fingers dancing along my collarbone as he pulled me in for a kiss.
I couldn’t help my eyes closing slightly as I tilted forward, inhaling the musky scent of him – all man. He wore cologne smelling of a hint of pine, but with a fresh, lemony twist that always made it seem as if he’d just jumped out of a shower. His hand brushed against my cheek before his lips gently met mine; a soft, sweet kiss for the road.
“Awwww,” Meg cried, fanning herself. “So cute.”
I opened my eyes at the same time Anthony pulled back, giving me an exasperated look. I shot him a look in return – one asking for forgiveness – to which he emitted a long, loud sigh.
“I’ll see you when I get back?” I said.
“Unless you wanna come with us,” Meg offered again. “We can paint your nails and glitterize that sexy mane of yours. I’ve been dying to try frosted tips on you.”
“I’ll see you later,” Anthony said.
I glanced towards Meg to give her frowny eyebrows, and by the time I turned back, Anthony was gone.
“Frosted tips went out of style like twenty years ago,” I pointed out as I pulled away from the curb.
“Yeah, well so did inviting your boyfriend to a girls’ weekend,” Meg said, a smug grin on her face.
“I didn’t invite him,” I said. “It’s just you and me.”
“I know, chickadee,” Meg laughed. “I made sure of it.”
Chapter 3
“SHE’S NOT HIDING ANYTHING under the blanket,” I explained to the guard, who was leaning through the window of my Lumina, his eyes focused on Meg.
“She’ll need to remove the blanket in order for me to allow her entrance to the estate,” the man said, his dark eyes watching Meg’s movements carefully. She was still wrapped like a burrito in my comforter. “Security measures.”
“You heard it,” Meg said. “He’s asking me to strip in the name of security.”
“Please, that won’t be necessary,” I said to the guard. “Trust me. She doesn’t have anything on underneath.”
“That’s what I need to make sure of,” the guard said.
“No, you don’t understand,” I said. “She doesn’t have anything on underneath.”
“Loosen up, Lacey. He asked for it.” Meg shifted in her seat, leaning towards the guard. “Now listen, buster. I don’t normally give free shows, but for you...”
The guard’s eyes flicked to me in confusion.
I shrugged. “She’s right. You asked for it.”
“Go ahead,” Meg said, opening the blanket wide. “Feel me right up.”
The guard’s eyes widened as Meg flung the comforter back, revealing her see-through cover-up and her itsy bitsy bikini.
He coughed, backed away, and gestured for us to continue through the gates.
As I cruised up the long, winding driveway to Carlos’s mansion – a place large enough to host a fireworks display, strong enough to withstand a terrorist attack, and majestic enough to display art from the Vatican itself – I explained to Meg in no uncertain terms that she was to remain in the car while I ran inside to grab the cabin keys from my grandfather.
“Oh, and while you wait, do you mind covering up with the blanket again?” I asked, sweetness lacing my voice. “Safety measure. If the guards are looking at you instead of the grounds, they’re not doing their job.”
“But I got all dressed up to say hi,” Meg grumped.
“It took us eighteen minutes to convince the security guard you’re not a threat to the estate,” I said. “We don’t have time. Please, just wait here.”
“I am a threat,” Meg growled. “Don’t you underestimate me. I got the womanly power to distract all guards from all their duties and let The Fish-man waltz right back in here.”
“Exactly,” I said. “So as a precaution to National Luzzi Security, please stay in the car.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Meg agreed, coming around to my logic. “When you’re putting it like that, I see your point. I’ll do my part to keep this place safe – you’re welcome.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate the sacrifice.”
“That, and I’m only halfway through my article on how to remove extra toe hair, so I gotta finish reading up before the cabin.”
I wrinkled my nose and got out of the car as quickly as possible, wanting to be nowhere near Meg’s hair experiment.
“Hey, Harold,” I said, only slightly winded as I reached the door. Carlos’s butler-since-forever was exactly how I pictured my ideal grandpa figure – elderly, friendly, wise, and full of just the right amount of hugs and kind words – ironically, nothing at all like my real grandfather.
“Hello, dear,” Harold said with a smile. “I’m glad to hear your birthday evening was a success.”
I tried to decipher whether or not he knew about Anthony and me, or if he was just talking about the fireworks display. Deciding that he couldn’t have known about our new relationship already, I smiled. “Everyone was so sweet putting in all that effort. I had a blast.”
Harold winked. “I know it was a bit stressful. I hope you enjoy your weekend away. You deserve some relaxation.”
“Thanks, Harold,” I said. “I’m sure it will be relaxing. I’m looking forward to no work, no thinking, no Family matters.” I paused. “Really, I’m planning on shutting my brain off.”
“Have fun,” Harold called after me, as I strode down the hallway. “But be safe out there!”
“Excuse me?” I whirled back around, despi
te my hurry to reach Carlos. I was fifteen minutes late already, and my grandfather didn’t appreciate if I was one minute late, let alone fifteen.
“Lacey dear, don’t read into it. I just meant it’d be nice if you tried to avoid explosions and such on your day off.” Harold smiled. “Also included on the list of Not-To-Do’s this weekend: find a dead body, accept an assignment from Carlos, or track down any form of illegal substance. Do you understand me?”
Wide-eyed, I nodded. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever told me.”
“You deserve some rest.” Though there was a stern expression on Harold’s face, I detected a glimmer in his gray eyes.
I wrapped him in a hug. “Thanks for the advice, old man. Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
“Why, no. No, I don’t think I do. I’ve forgotten my fire-retardant bomb-suit, it’s back in London.”
“Hardy har.” I rolled my eyes. “Sorry to rush, but I’m a teensy bit late...”
“Carlos is waiting in the kitchen.”
Hurling a thanks as I rushed down the hall, I sprinted through the Grand Entrance, which felt as large as the Coliseum and just as magnificent. Rugs more expensive than my entire apartment building furnished the marble floors, gifted to Carlos by royalty from countries across the world. The stained glass windows behind the red-carpeted staircase were originals. The statues were as perfect as David himself, and just as naked.
But as I reached the hallway leading to the kitchen, the landscape changed drastically. The Hallway of Infamy was Nora’s territory. She’d managed to scrape up remnants of all the Family’s past and plaster them haphazardly across the wall: Clay had a few Mathlete awards pinned up, my cousin Joey beamed in a picture as he held a check for twenty grand that he’d won at a casino – his skin as orange as an overripe squash – and even Nicky made an appearance, grinning down at us in his eclectic array of mug shots.
I’d managed to salvage one spelling bee certificate I’d won in eighth grade, a trophy my mom had tucked away in a To Save box. It now hung proudly next to my mother’s nipple tassels. It was all very sentimental.
Huffing and puffing like the magic dragon, I pushed open the heavy, mahogany door at the end of the hall, pulling up short as soon as I entered the kitchen.
“So,” my grandfather said slowly, “you’ve decided to show up.”
Carlos sat at the head of the table, his hair peppery gray, his small stature completely belying the power he wore like one of his beautifully-tailored suits.
“Sorr-y!” I gasped. “We had some issues with the suitcases.”
“Oh, there she is,” trilled Nora, sweeping into the kitchen, her apron fluttering around her ankles. I assumed her cooking attire was just for looks, since the only thing on the table was a few half full glasses of wine and limoncello.
My short, plump grandmother grabbed me in a squeeze, and I could smell the slight aroma of molasses biscotti and red wine. Which, upon first sniff, was not an unpleasant smell. However, I’d learned from experience that the scent meant I’d soon be trying to swallow hard-as-rock cookies. Now when I caught a whiff of molasses, my heart pounded and my blood raced in fear.
“I’m so glad you and that charming friend of yours are able to use the cabin this weekend,” Nora pulled away from the hug with shiny eyes. “Where is she, by the way? You didn’t invite her in?”
“I’m guessing you mean Meg?” I asked.
“Yes, dear. The funny one,” Nora said. “She’s got a great sense of style, too.”
“Mmm,” I murmured, the image of her bathing suit plaguing my mind.
“Yes, she’s a real charmer,” Carlos muttered.
“She’s in the car,” I said, remembering Carlos had recently worked with Meg to ensure my birthday party had been a surprise. “Doing some research.”
“For the trip?” Nora asked. “How fabulous of her. It’s about time that cabin saw some young blood. Lord knows Carlos never takes time off and whisks me away for a romantic weekend.”
“Well, it’s not so romantic,” I started. “It’s just Meg and me—”
I was interrupted almost immediately by Nora, who apparently wasn’t finished talking. “On the same romantic note, Lacey dear, when can we expect a great-grandchild from you? The clock is ticking, as you know.”
My mind flashed in a panic. Did she know about me and Anthony? She couldn’t. Nobody knew except Meg, Anthony, and me.
“I, uh—” I stuttered.
“Tick, tock,” Nora whispered. “Tick, tock. Do you hear that?”
“No, actually, no I don’t hear anything,” I said, backing away from my grandmother, who had a slightly crazed look in her eyes.
Nora shuffled over to me and put her hand on my stomach, listening intently. With a firm nod, she cleared her throat. “Well, I hear it loud and clear. It’s a grandmother’s talent. And that tick-a-tocking is the sound of all your fertile eggs just frying right up.”
“I don’t think it works like that,” I said, feeling oddly queasy at the sight of her hand on my stomach. I removed it gently. “I’m not even dating anyone.”
“Really?” Nora asked, her face falling. “Oh, rats.”
“Yeah, sorry to disappoint.” Inwardly, I cringed. In a moment of panic I’d lost my chance to announce that Anthony and I were dating. When Anthony and I had been cuddling together under the fireworks, we’d discussed the fact that we shouldn’t hide anything from the family. We’d promised to be open about our relationship as soon as the opportunity arose. Whoops.
“Don’t worry,” I said, trying to recover. In my defense, this wasn’t exactly how I’d pictured announcing the news – it wasn’t entirely my fault I’d panicked – I’d wanted to tell everyone in a special sort of way.
“Don’t worry about what?” Nora asked.
I gave a weak smile. “I’m still looking for a man. Hopefully something comes up soon.”
Nora’s face brightened. “Really?”
What’s one more secret? Anthony and I could tell the family about our relationship when I returned from the weekend at the cabin. He wouldn’t be happy, though. No, Anthony’s morals were much stricter on this subject than mine, and he’d made it very clear he didn’t want to keep secrets from his boss. Or my grandfather. And it just so happened that the two figures were the very same person.
I understood that his intentions came from a good place. He respected my grandfather enough to not hold secrets back, and there was the small fact that our relationship might “complicate” our jobs. I, on the other hand, felt no such need to divulge our news right away. In fact, I’d suggested that we keep our new and improved relationship status on the down-low for a few weeks, just to see how things progressed without external pressure from everyone else. Unfortunately for Anthony, it looked like I’d goofed, and we were back to secret status.
“Keep us posted the second you have a new development,” Nora said. “In fact, hang me on The Google.”
“I’m not sure what that means,” I said, never quite sure what my grandmother meant when she referenced the Internet.
“Hang me on The Google,” Nora clarified. “I’m pretty sure that’s what the young kids do these days, Lacey. Get with the program.”
“Oh, okay,” I agreed. “I will figure out how to hang you on The Google. But for now, I don’t want Meg to overheat in the car. We should be off. Thank you both for letting us use the cabin for a few days. We really are thrilled.”
Carlos growled. “You showed up here fifteen minutes late, Lacey Luzzi. We had a meeting. Does that mean nothing to you?” My grandfather rapped his fingers against his glass of limoncello. “It’d serve you right if I didn’t hand over the keys.”
I hesitated, debating whether to respond to him myself, or look to Nora for help.
After a moment, I chickened out and looked to Nora.
“Carlos, dear,” my grandmother said, a hand flouncing up to her hip. “Don’t speak to your granddaughter like that. She probably arr
ived late because she was dolling herself up for the special trip, am I right, honey? She has to look nice for all the men, mind you. Don’t you want a great-grandchild, Carlos Luzzi?”
My grandmother winked conspiratorially in my direction, her wide grin making my palms a little clammy. The only time Nora was this giddy was when she’d set up a dinner date between me and a member of the male species.
“Nora, what aren’t you telling me?” I asked, skeptical of her good mood.
“Oh, dear.” Her cheeks flushed. “Too much wine. Wine just makes all my secrets slip right off the tongue.”
“Auntie Nora, it’s two in the afternoon.”
“I had a brunch date with Bill and Carol. Everyone drinks mimosas at brunch!” Nora said. “Then bottomless mimosas turn into a glass or three of wine. We need wine to play Words with Friends.”
“You played a computer game while you were at brunch? You’re supposed to play when you’re not hanging out in person.” I shook my head.
“Oh, Lacey. Keep up with the times. You’re living back in the nineties, sweetie.” Nora clucked sympathetically. “Anyway darling, I have a present for you.” Before I could say no thanks, she scurried away, leaving Carlos and me alone in the kitchen.
Trying to dispel the awkward silence, I wracked my brain for a conversation topic – anything at all. But nothing popped up offhand.
“So...” I ventured hesitantly, hoping my grandfather would help me out, throw me a bone.
Carlos, however, remained still as a statue, staring eerily at me without emotion.
“All righty, then. I guess we can just wait in silence.” I busied myself looking at the magnets pinned to the fridge – a completely unfascinating way to pass the time. Running out of magnets to examine, I opened the refrigerator to see if there were any snacks that wouldn’t hurt my teeth.
Carlos cleared his throat as I shut the door. My back stiffened, and I was glad he couldn’t see the guilty expression on my face.
“Put it back,” he said firmly.
“Put what back?” I turned around, my ears bright red.
“Put it back, Lacey.” He glared at me. Embarrassed, I set the small bottle of handmade liqueur back in the fridge. I’d only wanted a sample.