“I like that,” Vivian responded with a frown. Only she could make a good idea feel bad. “Of course, we’ve already started the fundraiser, but maybe I could turn your little idea” – she waved her hand at me, dismissively – “into a real, workable project for the spring.”
I suppressed a rising tide of fury. It didn’t matter what she thought, or that she was planning to put her name on it and reap the glory. I had done what I wanted to do. Vivian would do everything she could to forget I even stopped by so she could claim the idea as her own. Mission accomplished.
“Now, Virginia, there is something I wanted to talk to you about as well.”
I’m pretty sure my expression registered fear and surprise. “What?”
“I want you to start a Daisy troop for the kindergarten class.” She looked like Cleopatra handing down an edict. I wished I had an asp handy, but they’re not native to this area.
“I don’t have time for that. I don’t even know what that is!” I protested.
Vivian continued, “I’m sure you don’t. In our day, we started Girl Scouts with Brownies. Now, it starts with Daisy Scouts in kindergarten. It’s very easy. Even you can do this.”
For a moment, I thought about holding her down and shoving handfuls of raw elderberries down her throat. It would take quite a few, but it would be worth it to watch her go through the stages of dizziness, headache, nausea, vomiting, gastroenteritis, respiratory difficulty, convulsions, and if I was really lucky, death. I imagined sitting there, calmly, drinking my coffee and watching her body convulse on the floor. Of course, I’d wipe everything down before leaving. Because she was completely ignorant of what was in her backyard the coroner would probably rule the death “accidental.”
“You’re not listening to me, Virginia!” She snapped.
“Oh, sorry,” I said. I’m just imagining your painful death.
“Look, it’s very simple. You aren’t allowed to go camping or sell cookies. Just have a meeting or two each month.”
“I don’t think so, Vivian. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.”
She raised her hand to silence me. “It’s very easy. Romi can even join.”
Again, I fought back the urge to race to her backyard with a bowl to begin collecting berries. “What do you mean by that?”
“I don’t mean anything by it. Really, Virginia. You are so touchy.” She handed me a piece of paper with a list of names and dates for training. “Call Sarah Wendt. I’ll let the three kindergarten teachers know you’re recruiting.”
Before I knew it, I was standing on the other side of her closed front door, holding a piece of paper and wondering what happened.
I barely made it home when the phone rang. The caller ID said it was none other than Sarah Wendt.
“Hi, Ginny! I’m so glad you’re going to lead our troop!” The bubbly blonde on the other end of the line started before I could say so much as “hello.”
“But Sarah, I don’t know anything about running a Girl Scout troop! I didn’t even tell Vivian I would do it!”
“No problem. I scheduled your troop for a meeting next week. You’re gonna love it! See you Wednesday!” She hung up before I could answer.
“Okay,” I said to Liv ten minutes later in my kitchen, “all I wanted to do was get a look at Vic’s yard. Now I’m leading a Daisy Scout troop?”
Liv laughed, “You’ve done some bizarre things before, Gin. But I think this is my favorite.”
Only Liv could get away with that. “I guess I should’ve expected that when I went over there, huh?”
Liv nodded. “Duh! You delivered yourself into her evil clutches. Willingly, I might add.”
“Now my to-do list is really fucked up. How am I going to pull it all together? The reunion, Diego, Romi’s training, the job, cookies shaped like whatever and now starting a Girl Scout troop?”
“Maybe you could make witch cookies that resemble Vivian?” Liv suggested.
Hmmm. . . not a bad idea. “I’m serious!”
“Okay,” Liv began, “I’ll help you with the troop. I’d like to get Alta into scouting anyway. We can do the training together and be co-leaders. It’ll be a way to spend time with the girls.”
I rubbed my chin. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
Liv continued, “And I’ll help with the job, and we’ll train the girls together. We’ll be together at the reunion too. The only thing I can’t help you with is your sex life. I have to draw the line there.”
“I don’t think you should rule it out,” I teased. “You’d like him. He’s really hot.”
She shook her head. “No threesomes. That’s my policy.”
“I’ll bet Todd hates that,” I murmured.
“Do you feel better about this?” Liv asked, ignoring my comment.
I nodded, “Well, yeah, since you’re holding my hand on everything else.”
She stayed for a couple of hours and we reviewed the file I started on Vic. When Liv left, she told me she would try to find out more about him.
As I put the dishes in the dishwasher, I realized that even with Liv’s help, I was in way over my head. As if that were a first for me.
CHAPTER TEN
“It’s not that I’m afraid to die, I just don’t want to be there when it happens.”
-Woody Allen
I stood in the doorway, my mouth hanging open. Which, by the way, was not a good look for me.
Diego grinned, a large pizza in his hands. “Hope you like pepperoni.”
I nodded. “It’s my favorite. How did you know?”
“You just struck me as a pepperoni type.”
“Really?” I asked, wondering what made me seem like a long, hard, red Italian salami.
“No. I just called Pizza Hut and asked what you usually get.”
“They tell you that?” Hmmm, that might be a useful tool in the future. Maybe I could get poisonous mushrooms on a Vic’s pizza.
Diego nodded. “Hard to believe, I know. I’ll have to make sure my client doesn’t use Pizza Hut.”
Damn, there went my brilliant idea.
“Gin?” Diego’s smoky voice slid into my thoughts. “Can I come in?”
“Oh! Yeah!” I stumbled backward to let him in.
“Mommy?” Romi appeared as soon as I closed the door behind Diego.
“Honey,” I replied, “this is my friend Diego.”
Diego knelt down to make eye contact. “You must be Romi. I’ve heard a lot about you. And you are just as lovely as your mum said.”
I’d like to note that If we were playing “strip date,” I would have already removed my pants.
“Okay,” Romi responded, “you can be my friend too.” Good girl.
I watched in amazement as Diego and Romi charmed each other throughout dinner. She listened to every word he said, and he acted as though she was the only person in the world. I just sat there like a lump, with a goofy smile pasted on my face.
“Mommy hasn’t had a boyfriend before. Not since Dad died, I think.”
I froze in my seat, smile fading rapidly. “Romi!”
Diego shook his head, “It’s alright, really.”
“How about some ice cream?” I said, jumping to my feet.
“Yay!” Romi cried out.
In just a few minutes, I managed to keep her little, over-active mouth busy with three scoops of chocolate ice cream. Maybe three scoops was a little excessive, but I had to make sure she wouldn’t say anything like that again. Maybe I should have thrown in some gooey marshmallow topping.
I wasn’t angry with her, just a little embarrassed. But why should I be? It was the truth. Being a widow was nothing to be ashamed of. I mean, it’s not like I killed him.
“She’s a great kid,” Diego whispered as we shut the door to her bedroom. Okay, so I used her little comment to impose a slightly early bedtime. She can’t tell time yet.
“Thanks. She comes from good breeding stock.” Yikes! I could not believe I said that. Trying to make him forg
et I hinted at sex, I settled us on the couch in the family room with a bottle of red wine.
“You’re pretty fantastic with kids,” I said.
“I love them. I think I told you about my niece and nephews on our last date.”
“Oh, so this is a date?”
Diego grinned, winning my shirt in the aforementioned imaginary strip game. “That’s what I thought.”
I smiled smugly as he put his arm around me. Damn, he smelled good. It had been so long since a gorgeous man touched me – without fighting for his life, that is.
“Okay,” I replied, “if this is a date, I expect you to tell me more about yourself.”
Diego squeezed me gently. “What exactly do you want to know?”
“Well,” I responded, leaning against him, “I guess I should know the usual stuff – what trips your trigger. . . do I trip your trigger. . . that kind of thing.”
“Ah. Well, I can answer the second question first. You do. I think you are the most unusual woman I’ve ever met.”
“Uh, is that good or bad? ‘Cuz I can see it taken either way.”
“Unusual is good. In your case, very, very good.”
I was blushing. So I changed the subject slightly (I don’t want to lose that train of thought just yet) “How about the first question?”
Diego’s fingers started to stroke my shoulder, and I was afraid of losing consciousness. “I like piña coladas. And getting caught in the rain. I’m not much into health food. . .”
“Okay,” I protested, “you’re not gonna cough it up. Fine.”
Diego laughed, “Actually, that’s not too far off. I’m a pretty easy-going guy. I like all kinds of food, have no favorite color, and while I enjoy virtually every kind of music, I prefer jazz and Spanish guitar.”
I raised my eyebrows. “That’s pretty specific.”
“And you?”
“I’m kind of the same. I love Italian food, everything but rap in the music area, orange is my favorite color, and you trip my trigger too.”
Diego leaned in and kissed me. That shut me up. Oh-my-god did he have wonderful lips! Every movement felt like a caress, and my lips pulsed in time to my flamenco heartbeat. After a few moments, he pulled back. As he looked into my eyes, I realized that this conversation was over. Before I could figure out if it was wise to do this without making sure Romi was passed out, I pulled his lips to mine and kissed him ferociously.
Diego moaned and the sound did all sorts of naughty things to me. His voice was so raw, so warm, I couldn’t focus on anything more than the moment. My living room dissolved around me and the only thing in the universe was Diego’s lips on mine.
Gently, he parted my lips with his tongue, slipping in slightly to stroke my mouth. I moaned deeply and Diego pulled me onto his lap.
I don’t know how long we kissed, maybe hours, maybe weeks. At first I wanted to get right to the meat of the sex, but then I realized that I’d never kissed anyone like this before. It was amazing. Sensual. Liberating. Wait, liberating? What the hell did that mean?
“Gin?” Diego had pulled away and was staring at me. “Are you alright?”
“Um, sure. Why?” Hormones fogged my brain. What did I do?
“You weren’t breathing.”
“Oh. Right. I’ll remember that,” I said, pressing my lips to his again.
A voice spoke up, and I responded, “I’m breathing! Trust me, air is going in and out of my lungs.”
Laughter followed. Shit. I recognized that voice.
“Dak!” I scrambled off Diego’s lap. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Dak grinned, his whole face lighting up with amusement, “Just checking on you. You said you wanted me to watch Romi while you did some work.”
I did ask my dumbass brother to baby-sit. But tomorrow night! Not tonight!
Diego rose from the sofa and extended his right hand cautiously. “Diego Jones. And you are?”
Dak responded with reserve. “Dakota, Gin’s brother.” Why do men have to act so weird all the time?
Diego relaxed and smiled. I, on the other hand, glared at my brother.
“Dak, that was for tomorrow night. Not tonight.”
He slapped his forehead, “Oh, right. Sorry about that.” Then the bastard took a seat. I toyed with the idea of poisoning him. No, that would just piss Mom off.
“Out!” I found my voice. “Or I’ll kill you.” Okay, so I was only half kidding.
Dak held up his hands. “Alright, fine. Tomorrow night it is.” He turned to Diego. “It was nice meeting you.” Diego responded the same and my asshole brother left.
“He seems alright,” Diego mused. “I think I’ve met everyone now.”
That was sad but true. Once again, my family had invaded my personal space. From my neurotic mother, good-natured father and bastard brother, Diego had met them all within the same week I met him. Oy vey.
“I’m sorry. He’s just a little. . .” I couldn’t think of the appropriate adjective. “I guess my family had me followed.”
“It’s alright, really. In fact, I think it’s rather nice.”
I arched my right eyebrow. “Really?”
Diego laughed. “Really. Charming actually.”
“Charming? Are you insane? This is the kind of stuff that usually drives men away! A single mother approaching forty, whose mother acts like she’s twelve, whose brother stalks her on dates? Do you go out with women like me a lot?”
“No,” he said with a smile. “It’s just nice to see a family who is so close. My father died when I was at university. And Mum is, well, colorful.”
Oooh! I’d forgotten his father was dead. I wanted to comfort him. Something about being an orphan screamed, Let me make it all go away.
“Sorry about that. Your father, I mean.”
“It’s okay. I just learned to appreciate family more, that’s all.”
Okay, now he had my underwear. If only this game of strip date were real. . .
Poppy padded into the room, sniffing the floor and indicating that she wanted to go outside.
“I have to take her out,” I said to Diego, “I’ll be right back.” Oh, and feel free to remove any constrictive articles of clothing while I’m gone.
Once outside, I took a deep breath. Poppy waddled around the yard, looking for the perfect spot to kill my grass. This thing with Diego was going fast. Not that I minded. I wasn’t exactly the pillar of moral turpitude, myself. Mentally, I had convinced myself this was just a fling. Why not just have sex and move on?
Wow. I hadn’t even had sex for a while. What if I did something wrong? How could you do something wrong? It was pretty simple, really, stick-plug-into-socket technology at best.
Obviously the attraction was there. Was it ever! And I was pretty sure he wanted me too. Okay! That’s it! I’m gonna go in there and have mind-altering sex!
I walked confidently into the kitchen, announcing triumphantly, “I’m ready!” Then my jaw went slack. Diego was putting on his coat! Why in the hell was he doing that?
“Sorry, Gin.” He had the grace to look a little crushed. “My client just got a suspicious phone call. I have to check it out.”
“What?” WHAT? How could this happen? I was ready, dammit!
Diego kissed me on the lips. “At least you’re in the business and know what I’m dealing with. Most women wouldn’t be so understanding.”
“Oh sure, I understand,” I said weakly. Okay, so I didn’t mean it. But what could I do? I’d told him I was a bodyguard. It was my own damn fault.
After he left, I settled on the couch with my knitting. I tortured the yarn for about four rows before taking a cold shower. As I emerged from the bathroom, shivering, I realized that I could channel this energy for good. I was ready to kill someone.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Death. The eternal blink. The capricious dance of Now You Stop Moving Forever. Well, contrary to popular belief, death isn’t just for dead people. It can happen to anyone.”
-The Tick
All this sexual frustration needed to be flushed from my system, and I knew just how to do it. I would project it onto my job. At least, that’s what I told myself as I crawled through the hedges behind Vic’s house.
Dak had made good on his offer, so here I was, at 10 p.m. – on a school night, nonetheless – trying to find a way to off Leonard. There was no sign of life anywhere on the grounds. Even the evil Vivian wasn’t home. But these hedges were scratching me something awful. Oh well, can’t complain. Assassin Rule #2 – If your hit is stupid enough to plant shrubbery, use it to your advantage. Of course the rule said nothing about how hot it was or how badly my arms were getting scraped. I guess that particular rule is up to your own personal interpretation.
I found the back door without incident. Wouldn’t you know the dumbass had a spare key under the doormat? His Witness Protection contact must have had a screw loose. I pulled the egg of Silly Putty (Assassin Fun Fact #2: You can use everyday things to your advantage) out of my purse and imprinted the key on both sides of it, then slid the putty back into my purse. After looking both ways, (always look both ways – it works for more than crossing the street) I gingerly inserted the key into the doorknob and turned it.
A doorknob lock! Puhhhhleeeease. For a moment, I wondered if it wouldn’t be more lucrative to hire on as this idiot’s security.
I slipped into the house after replacing the key and locked the door behind me. My hands were sweating inside the latex gloves, but I knew better than to take them off. I remained crouched until my eyes adjusted to the dim interior. I was in the kitchen. And it was a mess. Now, I’m not the best housekeeper, but this was ridiculous. Dirty dishes piled high in the sink, the funk of sour food wafted from the disposal and garbage. Apparently, it was the maid’s week off.
The bathroom was always the best place to begin – especially if it was Vic’s personal bathroom. I found it on the second floor. I adjusted my LED flashlight to red and searched his medicine cabinet. There was only one prescription bottle, for heart medication. So Leo had heart trouble, eh? That’s good. I slipped one of the capsules out of the bottle and into my pocket, carefully replacing the lid.
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