by Alan Lee
Don’t worry about me. I’ll make more.
Your loving father.
The note passed back and forth between them. Even Ulysses was stunned.
I said, “Ulysses didn’t go to Monaco to gamble. He went to launder cash. A casino is a great place to do that. Over the course of several days, he slowly bought more and more chips. He cashed some out for euros. He went to Las Vegas and did the same thing there. He kept some of the money in poker chips to avoid suspicion at the cashier. If Colleen pressed the issue, he had receipts for large sums. Gambling losses are hard to verify.”
Ulysses scratched at his mane of thick hair. “I—I must really have been out of sorts. I cannot imagine going through with such a scheme.”
“You panicked. You were broken and hurting and lost. And you hated Gordon. Which,” I said. “Is understandable.”
Alex’s fingers burrowed into the coins. She looked at the open container with amazement and some fear. “So…what now?”
“That’s up for you to decide. My job is finished.”
“But, please? Mr. August, I don’t know what to do.”
“Here are some thoughts, if you insist. Pay for your college degree. Pay for counseling sessions. Fund a retirement account for your father and Rose. And for yourself. Maybe pay for the wedding. Go on a nice trip.”
“But…I think Rose and Dad should take it back.”
“That works too,” I said. “This is a judgment free zone, and I don’t blame anyone for wanting to bilk Gordon Gibbs—but keep in mind half of it legally belongs to Colleen.”
“I want her to have some, too,” said Alex. She stared at the container without seeing it. “Maybe set up a retirement account for her also? I don’t know if she has much money now.”
“Up to you. If you need advice, seek it from Rose. She might be the most selfless woman I know.”
Rose looked as though one more surprise today might kill her.
“We have only one final item to discuss. And she’s the most important on the docket.” I reached down to scratch Georgina Princess behind the ears.
34
Case closed.
Ulysses was satisfied, Alex wasn’t broke, and Rose was over the moon with joy. And I? I went home for lunch, feeling smug about a job well done.
Ol’ Mack August, worth every penny.
I pushed open the front door and Georgina Princess August bolted inside first. She ran circles throughout the main floor and went up and down the stairs a few times.
My favorite girl was cooking in the kitchen, the loveliest of all sights.
Ronnie said, “How’d it go?”
“I’m worth every penny.”
“You’re worth every million, Mackenzie.” She wore no shoes and she moved around on the balls of her feet, something she did without thinking, like a dancer. She wore straight-legged Paige khakis and a red apron…and that was it. Nothing else under the red apron. “What will you do now?”
“Not sure. Might go kill Darren Robbins.”
“I approve. I’ll pay you for your time.”
“Your outfit is to die for,” I told her, coming to rest on a kitchen stool.
She leaned far enough over the counter to kiss me. “Everyone is at work, and Kix is at Roxanne’s, so…”
“So you cook naked?”
“I’m not naked. I have on pants. I’m making Italian sausage and vegetable soup.”
“What if something spatters?” I said.
“The apron covers what it needs to. Mostly. Isn’t this charming? It’s like I’m your doting wife from the 50’s.”
“Honey, I’m home.”
“Does Georgina Princess belong to the August household now?”
“She does,” I said.
“Perfect. I’d grown fond of her.” She turned to the stove to stir the pot and I admired her shoulders and the arch of her spine.”
“Did you have court this morning?”
“I did. Judge Rowe. He adores me.”
“Why wouldn’t he.”
“I got you something,” she said and she slid a plate my way. The plate was covered with shredded paper. “A gift.”
“Thanks, I was hoping for some confetti.”
“It’s an apology.”
“I can tell,” I said shrewdly.
“An apology for being a mess. I was making this difficult. Making us difficult, I mean. My psychosis and insecurities were wrecking things.”
“Oh?”
“Don’t Oh? me. You knew it already. But I’m still learning.”
“What are you learning?” I asked.
“You love me. Even if you’ve never said the words, you do.”
“I do.”
“It’s that simple. You treat me like you love me, and you’re not going to stop. Loving someone shouldn’t be complex. That’s hard for me to process. You’re committed to me and that doesn’t make sense, and I have to force myself to realize it several times a day. I’m still new, and I was trying to make us something else. But…I’m watching you and I’m learning, and I think it’s simple. If you love someone, you love them. It’s a verb.”
“Yes.”
She stirred the pot absently. “This will be tricky. Because I think I love me more than I love you.”
“You summed up the central pillar of human frailty and brokenness with that revelation.”
“It’s a breath-taking revelation. To realize that I’m even more broken than I thought.”
“And,” I said. “To realize I’m more broken than you thought.”
“Yes. That’s why the wedding ceremony matters to you. Or at least the exchange of vows. It’s a promise to do. And you want to say those promises out loud, so we can hear each other and the world can hear them. Because that’s what you take the most seriously. Promises to act and live a certain way. And if I had half a brain in my head, I’d realize how important it is for me too.”
“Well articulated.”
“Okay. So…moment of truth.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, a motion I admired. “And I want you to be honest. Need you to. I know you love me. You don’t even need to say it, because every act of your life states it. You love me. But…do you want to be locked into that? Because that’s what a wedding ceremony is. You’re already doing it, but after a wedding you’re not allowed to stop. Because you’re a man who keeps his promises.”
“Are you the kind of girl who keeps hers?”
“You know I’m not. Or at least, I never have been. But you also know that I’m trying to become good. It’s not really fair for you to be tethered to someone who isn’t…there yet. So, do you truly want a wedding ceremony and vows? If you want to wait, I’m not going to leave. I know you wouldn’t leave me. And besides, I’m head over heels for you.”
“You realize you’re swinging the jury by only wearing an apron.”
“Of course. I’ll do anything to influence your vote in my favor. But, Mackenzie, if you want the wedding ceremony then let’s not make a big thing out of it. I’m not a girl who wants a guy to get on his knees and propose. I don’t want to send out announcements or have people take pictures while we shove cake at each other. I don’t even need a ring.”
“No ring?”
“I don’t need one. And to show you how committed I am, look at your gift again.” She indicated the plate with shredded paper. “That’s our annulment. I filled it out last week, because I thought you wanted it. But I changed my mind and shredded it. I’m not giving you an annulment. I want you. Forever.”
I felt warm from my toes to my nose. “Wow.”
“You want an annulment, go through another attorney. And I’ll fight it.”
I grinned. She smiled back. The air between us thrummed. “You’re talking a lot, Ronnie.”
“I’m nervous, Mackenzie. I just told a beautiful man that I love him but I would understand if he can’t commit to me yet. It’s harrowing.”
“I have a suggestion,” I said.
“I
’m all ears.”
“Not at the moment you’re not. I can’t seem to get my eyes above your collarbone.”
“I’ll rephrase. I’m all yours, Mackenzie. What’s the suggestion?”
“You may not want a ring, but…” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. Opened it and placed it on the counter. “Here’s one anyway. Let’s be engaged.”
She dropped the wooden spoon onto the floor. Inhaled strongly enough for me to hear oxygen flood her lungs. Her hand went to her throat, and her chest and neck and cheeks flushed.
She whispered, “But we’re already married.”
“Let’s be both.”
“I was wrong. I was so wrong about the ring.” She picked it up and a big perfect tear filled and went over her cheekbone and disappeared under her jaw. “I love this one so much. I’m keeping it.”
“Forever.”
She came around the table and rested against me, half in my lap. She slid the ring onto her finger—perfect; I’d measured with another she wore occasionally. “It’s perfect. And gigantic.”
“Two carats. I used my savings. You might need to pay for dinner the next month.”
"Mackenzie.”
“Yes Ronnie.”
“One day soon, we’ll exchange vows. I want to make promises to you. Promises I’ll keep.” She pressed her face into my neck and sighed. “You’re my husband and my fiancé. And we have a dog, and I’m more content and happy than I thought possible.”
“Me too. And we haven’t even tried the soup yet.”
“Mackenzie. I’ve been topless under this apron for thirty minutes, and I’ve been thinking about you the whole time, and you just gave me an engagement ring, and I’m all kinds of aroused.”
“Now you know how I feel incessantly. Should we go upstairs?”
Her fingers played with my collar. “Or on the couch or wherever. I want my fiancé to take off this apron immediately.”
“But my wife might get jealous.”
“You can have us both, Mackenzie. For always.”
The End
Epilogue
Fat Susie drove Veronica Summers to Washington D.C. on a crisp Tuesday morning, ten days after her unexpected engagement. She rode in the back seat diligently working and accumulating billable hours.
Outside the federal courthouse in Alexandria, she met up with her client, Mateo Hernández, and Fat Susie remained in the car. Mateo had been waiting three months for this hearing, only a week before his deportation.
Inside, they waited their turn in court and Ms. Summers then successfully argued on Mateo’s behalf for an adjustment of status, and an hour later they emerged again into the sun; Mateo the proud owner of a green card.
It helped that Mateo had money.
It helped that Judge Reeves frequently daydreamed about his counselor.
Veronica got back into the Mercedes, a thick envelope of cash hidden inside her Saint Laurent crocodile handbag—the Hernández family left no paper trails.
“Where to?” said Fat Susie, watching her in the rearview. “Home?”
“I need coffee first, please, Reginald. I like The Spot on Jamieson.”
“Can do.”
Fat Susie parked a block from The Spot and they walked. It was mid-morning and the coffee shop was empty, the early commuters already at work. She ordered coffee for both and sat at a booth with her phone. Fat Susie went to the restroom.
Had she been more vigilant, she would have noticed two men enter The Spot, and the barista leave out the back. She would have noticed the large man walk to the restroom and lock the door with a key. No one getting in or out.
She looked up, startled, as Darren Robbins slid into the booth across from her.
“Oh shit,” she said. “And my day was going so well.”
“Good to see you too, doll.”
She rolled her eyes, fighting down a quiver of fear in her chest. “Really, Darren? We’re going to play this game here?”
Darren Robbins was dressed in an overcoat and black gloves. He had short wavy brown hair. A handsome guy, though everyone thought his eyes were an unsettling shade of brown and green. “An engagement ring. Congratulations, Ron. Based on the tiny stone, I assume you’re marrying a broke cop.”
“I’m through with boys, Darren,” she said and she flicked her gaze over him. A mocking smile. “Tell all your boyfriends, the limp old men you coddle. I’m taken.”
“You think that rookie can protect you? Or himself?”
“You already tried to kill him. The entire underworld gathered in Naples and it wasn’t enough. Mackenzie is a man you can’t even hope to become.”
He grabbed her hand. So quick she couldn’t react, so firm she couldn’t pull free. He pinched her fingers and it hurt.
“Where’s he now?” he said. “At home. On the sidelines.”
“Let go, Darren,” she said through clenched teeth. “You don’t own me anymore.”
“Yeah. I heard.”
Only now did she realize The Spot had emptied. Foolish to come here, especially considering who owned it. The only other person in The Spot was a man standing at the door. She’d never seen a man so large. He was of Asian descent, probably close to seven-feet tall and impossibly thick and broad. Arms crossed. No expression.
The hairs on her arm raised.
“I got an idea, Ron,” said Darren. “I cut a deal with you and the broke cop in Roanoke. Gets me out of your hair forever.”
“Sounds too good to be true,” she replied.
The giant came to their table, towering over both. Trapping Ronnie.
Behind her, a bang at the men’s bathroom door. Fat Susie, locked in and no help.
Darren smiled, a sight that made Veronica sick. “I didn’t say you were gonna like it.”
A note from the author -
I hope you enjoyed Good Girl. A lighter book was in order after Aces Full and Only the Details.
My big scary goal during 2019 is to release six (six!) books. Gulp. The first came out in January, about Manny, called The Supremacy License. Good Girl is the second. At the time of publication, I’m over halfway through the third—it’s also about Manny. I have the following Mackenzie mystery already planned. We’ll see how it goes.
It may interest you to know Alan Lee is a pen name—my real name is Alan Janney.
I wrote a series of young adult books under Alan Janney, and I didn’t want a pack of thirteen-year-olds reading the Mackenzie series, and that’s why I write under Alan Lee (my middle name).
If you’d like to follow me on Instagram, find me at AuthorAlanJanney.
Final thing—I wrote a short story about the honeymoon of Ronnie and Mackenzie in the Bahamas. It takes place after Only the Details and before Good Girl, and involves a minor mystery, and it didn’t fit in either book. So if you’d like to read it, click here and I’ll email it to you for free. The short story is called A Ghost in Paradise.
