by Gina LaManna
“Look, uh, man.” Blake shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know Laura all that well, to be honest. We started casually dating a few weeks ago, and now…”
Blake’s eyes shifted towards me, then down to his feet, and finally back to Anthony. He cleared his throat and spoke firmly, my heart sinking the smallest bit at his declaration. “Now, she’s my girlfriend. But it’s still new, so whatever business you have with her…neither of us want a part in it. I’m taking her home, and I just came to ask that you guys leave us out of it. She’s upset enough already. I shouldn’t have brought her here.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have,” Anthony said. “But it’s not Lacey’s fault she’s upset.”
Blake looked at him, surprised. Then again, so did I. Was Anthony sticking up for me? Was this about our business relationship or the pleasure part? Though he didn’t look my way, it was almost as if I could feel him thinking of the moment we’d shared just seconds before.
I didn’t want to interrupt, but it was maybe a teensy bit my fault that Laura was upset. I was the reason she was here in the first place, but I didn’t feel the need to speak up now. I’d give Anthony the details at a later time, when he wasn’t having a stare down with my ex-boyfriend.
“Fine – we’re leaving,” Blake said. “But I have one thing to tell you two. Laura asked me to give you the name of one of her friends. She said if there’s something fishy happening at the spa, then maybe this girl will know something. If I give up the info, I – we – want nothing to do with this business again.”
“I am happy to oblige that request,” Anthony said. With him, sarcasm was so subtle that I could never quite tell if it was my imagination or not.
“What is it?” I asked. “We’ll keep you out of it, I promise.”
“For the record, I don’t know her friends,” Blake said. “I’ve never met her family. Neither Laura nor I know what any of this is about. But Laura said if something was going on, Maria would know. This girl, she works at the spa.”
“Do you have her information?” I asked. “What makes you think she’s involved?”
“Look, Lacey. I don’t know. Just…look into her,” Blake said. “Trust me.”
“The Luzzis are not in the habit of blind trust,” Anthony said. “Rule number one.”
“Well, I didn’t know that,” Blake said. “Unlike you, I’m not privy to the family rules.”
“Stop it, you two. Blake, can we get her information?” I asked.
Blake glanced down at his phone. “I’ll text it to you. Laura forgot her phone at the spa the other day, so she’s been using my phone to keep in touch with this girl. Apparently she does the scheduling or something.”
“Maria,” I filled in, looking down at my phone and waiting for the contact information to arrive from Blake. When my phone buzzed with an incoming message, I immediately forwarded it to Clay, attaching a “Help, please” note below it.
“Is that everything?” Anthony asked Blake, as I looked up from my cell.
“Just…I don’t want to hear any more about this,” Blake said, scanning both of us. “Are we okay here?”
“Yes. Thank you,” I said. “Please don’t say anything more to Laura.”
“More secrets,” Blake said with a sigh. “Don’t worry; this one is my pleasure to keep.”
He turned and left the room, shutting the door firmly behind him.
Any semblance of an intimate moment had passed, and I mostly felt bad about dragging people into situations they didn’t want to be in. Anthony brought a hand up to my neck and began gently rubbing my shoulders, massaging the tight muscles until I began to relax.
“Don’t worry,” Anthony said. “He’ll come around. Leave him be for now. Give him some space and you’ll both be better off.”
“For what?” I asked. “Better off how?”
“You’ll figure it out,” Anthony said, with a gruff tinge to his voice. “I believe the party is probably dissolving. Let’s go see.” I nodded.
Anthony and I reentered the living room, where the chatter had faded into a few separate conversations. Most of the movers had left in search of some Taco Bell, Clay had already gone home, and Meg was nowhere to be seen.
“Thank you for the party,” Mister Kim said, approaching me with hesitation as I stepped into the space.
“Thanks for coming.” I offered a smile, and turned to his date. “And you too, Miss Youn.” Personally, I’m a hugger, but I refrained from the gesture. I didn’t quite get the hugger vibe from her.
Miss Youn’s dark eyes sparkled up at me.
“Thank you,” she said. “Fun party.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it! Stop back anytime,” I said, but it was a lie. I wasn’t anxious to have people crowding my new place anytime soon. “Here, I’ll walk you out.”
I handed over both of their coats and led them into my entryway. At the door, Mister Kim looked ready to hurry on home, but Miss Youn turned in a slow circle.
“A gift, for you,” she said, digging in her purse. She lit up and gave me a cheerful smile. “I brought this as a housewarming present.”
Her voice turned chirpy and excited, as she produced a tiny elephant from her purse.
“Oh, thank you!” I said, looking down at the small, glass animal decorated with beautiful artwork.
“Place it somewhere special,” she said. “And be very, very careful. Is fragile, yes?”
“Of course,” I said. “This is so sweet of you. You didn’t have to.” She nodded, a shy smile covering her features as she ducked down the hallway with her date.
Huh, I thought. Maybe she was actually the fun one out of the couple. I closed the door behind me, thinking they were the strangest pair I’d ever seen. And I was friends with Meg and Clay, Carlos and Nora, and Blake and Laura. That was a lot of strange pairs.
Meaning to set the elephant on the mantel, I took a detour into the kitchen and rested it on the sink while I helped myself to a glass of water. Anthony sat on the couch in the living room, but I needed a moment to myself. The beginnings of a headache were creeping around my skull.
I turned back, but the elephant’s eyes just weren’t doing it for me. They were a shiny, pitch black color, eerily similar to Miss Youn’s eyes, and it just felt a bit creepy.
“What did I do to you?” I asked mini elephant. I decided to call him Chuck.
There was no response, so I snuck a quick glance around the kitchen. Still alone, I picked up Chuck, the demon-eyed elephant, and tucked him gently into the freezer. What I really wanted to do was throw the thing away, but I couldn’t afford any more bad mojo until this case was over. And throwing away a party gift on the same day was bad juju for sure.
Plus, there was always the chance that someone else – Meg – would break it, digging around for cake. Or maybe it’d shatter into a zillion pieces because of the cold. Either way, I’d be able to throw the thing out without it being my fault. I quietly started to close the freezer door, but when I turned around, Anthony stood in the doorway behind me.
I raised a hand to my chest, feeling my heart pump with adrenaline. “Cheese and rice – say something next time.” I slammed the freezer door shut.
“Everything okay?” he asked, his face concerned. A lock of his hair had fallen in a light curl over his forehead. Old memories taunted me – dancing at Vivian’s wedding, kissing outside my hotel door, the moment just now in the bedroom – I wanted nothing more than to collapse in his arms for a hug. A real, warm and cuddly hug that would make all my worries go away.
“Yeah.” But my lip must have wobbled a little bit, even though I tried really hard to keep it steady. “But I could use a hug.”
I wasn’t sure when I’d become so emotional. It was as if a wave of feels hit me real hard in the gut – all of the feels at once. Maybe it was seeing Blake with his girlfriend, or having Clay upset with me, or just hosting an overload of people in a new place. Plus, I was supposed to spend the night here by myself, and I was already begi
nning to feel lonely with the sudden absence of people.
Anthony opened his arms, and I give him credit for not laughing at my request. I stepped forward without a word and let him clasp his hands behind me. His heart beat against mine; his was much calmer than my racing one.
“You’re a good hugger,” I said, my voice cracking. I was trying to make light of the situation, but I was more upset than I wanted to admit.
I never thought I’d miss Clay’s blinking gadgets, the phone he intermittently set to “yodel” and the stove that smoked more than it cooked. I’d miss my goofy, brainy cousin. Plus, now I lived farther away from Meg. It was almost a forty minute drive in traffic to her bar. I squeezed Anthony tighter.
“Shhhh,” he whispered against my hair. “It’ll be okay.”
His fingers pulled the ponytail holder from the back of my head and he stroked through my locks, his fingers casually picking over the tangles. I hadn’t exactly had time to unpack all of my toiletries and condition my hair. Or really, shower at all. I hoped I smelled okay.
“You smell like Dairy Queen cake,” Anthony said, as if he heard my thoughts. I stared straight at the wall over his shoulder.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “Good enough to eat.”
“Anthony…” I pulled back a little, as his hands slid down to my waist. I looked him in the eye. “I…maybe I need some time.”
Anthony reached over me. “Or you need a bottle of wine and a friend.”
I watched, as he retrieved a bottle of Malbec and a corkscrew, surprised at his powers of perception. Then again, he was a hunk. Of course he knew how to charm a woman.
“Are you saying you’re my friend?” I asked.
He gave me a quizzical glance. “I’m saying that I don’t have to be anywhere right away. Let’s go up to the roof and catch the sunset.”
“Is this a date?” I asked.
“Don’t push it.”
“Are we going to just talk?” I asked.
“As opposed to?” Anthony’s eyes crinkled.
I blushed.
“We can do whatever you want,” he said.
“Can I bring cake?” I asked.
Anthony crossed his arms. “As your former trainer, I should say no.”
“Please?”
He gave a long, loud sigh. “If you must.”
** **
Together, we climbed up the staircase until we reached the fifth level of the apartment complex. There was no good way out onto the roof, since I’m not even sure we were supposed to be up there. So very quietly, I pointed out Mister Kim’s door. Anthony nodded with understanding, and with careful, silent precision, he propped the window open.
He reached his hand around my waist, lifting me through the window and onto the fire escape with ease. I kept my arms woven around his neck for an extra few minutes…just in case. And because his chest felt great against my body.
“Would you like me to set you down?” Anthony asked, once we summited the fire escape and stepped onto the roof.
“Oh, uh. That’d be great, thanks,” I said. I stretched my legs, striving for casual. I gestured towards the edge of the roof that overlooked the patio. The grimy pool sprawled below, looking like a nuclear waste container. “Let’s sit over here. I like pretending I’m rich enough to own my own pool, and I wanna stare at it for a little bit.”
Without comment, Anthony carried the cake over to the edge of the building. He set it far away from me on purpose, I’m sure. In its current location, I would have to reach over his lap in order to nab a piece. I refrained, though I did cast it a few longing glances. Anthony pretended not to notice.
We sat in an easy silence for a few moments. Anthony pried the cork from the wine bottle and handed it over. I took a long sip before passing it over to him. He waved it away.
“You’re not going to make me drink alone, are you?” I asked.
Anthony looked at me out of the corner of his eye.
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re on the job,” I said. “I thought we got this whole bodyguard business out of the way.”
“You need it more than I do,” he said.
I didn’t argue, but I did take another sip. Just a baby one, though.
“So,” I tried for conversation, “did you have a pool growing up?”
Together, we analyzed the growth of scum in the pool area below us as I waited for his response.
“Let’s not talk about me,” he said.
“Oh, come on. This is what friends do.”
He raised an eyebrow, though I couldn’t tell if he was pleased or upset.
“We’re friends, right? You said you weren’t going to ask me to be your girlfriend.”
Anthony groaned.
“Come on,” I said. “Loosen up. You’re off the clock. We’re drinking wine and eating cake. Have fun.”
“I did,” Anthony said. “Have a pool…of sorts. A big pool. One might say ocean-sized.”
I blinked. “Did your family have a big house?”
“No.”
“But you had a pool?”
“I answered the question,” he said. “What about you?”
“Ah…” I hesitated. “A pool? Kind of.”
If you counted the dirty motel pool behind the strip club that Meg and I snuck into growing up, trying to figure out what skinny dipping meant.
“Kind of?” Anthony asked. “Really. So did your—”
“Friends don’t pry like that,” I interrupted.
“Sure they do,” he said. “Friends say whatever they want.”
“Don’t be annoying.”
“I’m not, I’m just being curious.”
I sighed. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Like what?” he asked.
I looked back at him, long and hard.
“Maybe we should just screw being friends,” I said. “I’m not sure it’s working.”
“I sense there’s a story behind the pool,” Anthony said. “I’m all ears. Try me, just this once. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to try again.”
I considered the meaning behind the words. I glanced over at his content expression and sighed. What the heck? I shrugged, grabbed the wine, and leaned back. “There was a pool. It was the pool for the grimy little motel behind TANGO. Meg and I lived at that motel. That’s how we met.”
“Her mom was around?” Anthony asked.
“Eh...define around,” I said. “Meg had enough to eat most of the time. But that’s also because we looked out for each other. My mom was gone most nights, and her mom went through men like I go through Dilly Bars.”
Anthony raised his eyebrow.
“I didn’t understand why at the time, we were so young,” I said. “Found out later that she had drug problems. When I mentioned it to Meg…”
Anthony leaned towards me, propping himself in a sideways plank position and waiting with patience until I finished my sip of wine and resumed speaking.
“Meg knew the whole time, but she never said anything. Never told me. Never complained. That girl…” I shook my head. I set the wine bottle carefully between us, just in case Anthony changed his mind about taking a sip. “She raised her mom – not the other way around. She’s tougher than she looks.”
Anthony gave a smile that reflected the sadness I felt. “She looks pretty tough.”
“Touché. She’d take that as a compliment.” I returned his smile with a wry grin of my own, before drifting back to the serious side of the conversation. “You know, I have a theory about Meg. I think her mom’s the reason she treats men the way she does. She leaves a man if he’s too nice to her because she thinks he’s trying to use her. She hasn’t dated anyone exclusively for longer than about three weeks. Right around the two week mark, she starts coming up with bogus reasons to dump the guy. She once broke up with a genuinely nice guy because he pulled her chair out for her.”
Anthony leaned onto his back, and I took his cue and did the same. Together, we lay side by side an
d watched the sun creep towards the horizon.
“She said he was just trying to get into her pants,” I said.
“Well, was he?” Anthony asked.
“He was already in her pants!” I said. “He was trying to turn a fling into a relationship, and Meg wanted nothing of it.”
“Mmm. What about her and Clay?” he asked.
I considered it for a long moment.
“I don’t know,” I said, honestly. “They’re weird around each other.”
“They’d be a great pair. I don’t think either would put up with the other’s crap.”
“We’ll see,” I said. “I’m not playing matchmaker with those two. I need them both in my life, and a relationship would only complicate things.”
Anthony shrugged. “Tell me about the pool.”
I gave a smile. “Well, when our moms were away – hers at the guy du jour’s apartment, and mine at work, we would pretend that we were real fancy. We loved getting all glammed up, wearing the glittery items from the dregs of my mom’s closet and pretending we were princesses.”
My mother’s voice danced in my head as I recounted the story. I hadn’t stopped missing her for a day – she’d been the most hardworking, sweetest mother in the world, and if I became half the mother she was, I’d be doing better than most parents. Though that would be in the far off future; I had to support myself before I could even think about taking care of another human being.
“For my seventh birthday, I wanted a princess themed party.” I grinned. “We couldn’t afford anything that year; we even had to keep our heat off most of the time, except during the coldest days of winter, and wear three sweatshirts and long johns to bed. But – my mom was determined to give me the best party she could.”
Without thinking, I rolled closer to Anthony. He didn’t pull away, so I stayed, my head resting against his shoulder.
“My mother took me to the local CVS and had me point out everything I wanted for my special day, as she called it. I remember feeling bad, since I knew we didn’t have money, but my mother insisted. She told me to dream big. So I pointed to nail polish and hair curlers and even this tiny little tiara. We left the store after I’d picked out a bunch of stuff, but we didn’t buy a single thing.”
