by Dianna Love
“We’re trying to start over. We never dated and didn’t get to know each other like two people who met at a supermarket would.”
Mom laughed, but it was more of a “huh” sort of laugh. “I could see where that would be a challenge, considering you’ve known each other all your lives.”
“Exactly. I didn’t really know him. I knew that he liked baseball, but I didn’t know that he thrived on it. That his dream made him feel whole. And that when he lost it, he had to figure out another way to be whole. Those sorts of things.”
Her mother tilted her head. “I understand.”
“I have to say, it’s fun. We got all dressed up the other night and went out for dinner and dancing. I enjoy doing those things with him. We had gotten into a rut where we would just sit home and watch a movie. It’s a nice change. We’re taking things a day at a time.”
“He loves you, Lucie.”
That, Lucie knew without a doubt. In every touch, in every smile, in every word. “He does. What I need is for us to want the same things.”
Her mother scoffed. “How incredibly boring.”
“Mom!”
“Oh, please.” she stood to freshen her coffee. “Why would you want that? Wouldn’t it be fun to explore different wants? That’s part of the journey. He wants things and you want things. As long as you both agree to be a team, you don’t have to want the same things.”
In Lucie’s mind, this wasn’t an option. Not with the one big want that she needed. The one Frankie couldn’t compromise on. And then it hit her. Her mother could never have wanted a lifetime of gossip and trials and a husband in prison.
“Like you and Dad?” Ouch. She smacked her lips together. Of all the rotten, hurtful things to say. “I didn’t mean that.”
Her mother waved her off. “It’s true. I’ve always let your father do things his way. I spoiled him. Now he expects me to always go along. It’s not fair, but I helped create the monster he’s become.”
“He took advantage of your good nature.”
Mom returned to the table; cup in hand, steam rising from its contents. After the crack Lucie made, the steam should have been coming off her mother. “I allowed him to take advantage. It’s as much my fault as it is his.”
“Still.”
“With him gone, I’ve had plenty of time to think about it and decided to make some changes. I’m done doing things his way. When he comes home, he’ll have to learn to compromise. I’ve been alone for two years now, and I’ve learned it’s okay to want what I want instead of what he wants. He won’t be happy about it, but he’ll have to adjust.”
Yay, Mom. The steely determination in her mother’s eyes let Lucie know her father was in for a rough time when he got out. Good for him. Prison would seem like a cakewalk compared to the changes around here. They were his family, not his servants.
This was the difference between her parents’ relationship and her and Frankie’s. Frankie never insisted things be his way. He didn’t scream or demand or manipulate. No, he always tried to find the compromise. Even if they fought, he would eventually agree to a compromise.
“I like that plan, Mom. He needs to appreciate you more. He’s going to hate it that you’ve become a career girl with Coco Barknell.”
She grunted. “Yes, he will, but there’s not much he can do about it from a cell.”
And there it was. The emotion her mother never showed. Anger over the humiliation of a husband in prison and for expecting her to keep their life in order without him.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t know if I’m happy.” Mom opened her mouth to say something and Lucie raised her finger. “I’m not unhappy though. I’m somewhere in between.”
Given what was going on with the dognapping’s, this was something to be thrilled about. Her mother, thank God, didn’t know about all that drama.
“I raised a strong girl in you, Lucie. Don’t ever settle.”
“I won’t. There’s too much life out there to settle.”
“Amen to that. If you love Frankie and he’s the one, tell him. If not, let him find someone who loves him as much as he loves you.”
A sudden hole opened in Lucie’s chest. Let him find someone else? What did that mean? Another woman? Frankie with someone else would be beyond her pain tolerance. “Did you hear something? About him and someone else?”
Her mother pulled a face. “Frankie? Heavens no. He’s a good boy. He’d end it with you before he went with someone else. I just think it’s unfair to both of you, all this back and forth. If you love him, love him well. He deserves that. And so do you. That’s all I’m saying.”
Love him well. Had she done that? Did constantly asking him to make changes in his life represent loving him?
Could she get beyond the fact that he was happy living in Franklin surrounded by his family and the life? Maybe she was the one who needed to make changes?
Like her mother did regarding her father. It took her mother thirty years to make those changes, and Lucie wasn’t about to wait that long.
She leaned over and kissed Mom’s cheek. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For being you. You’re the best. You always help me. Even when I don’t know I need it.”
Mom smiled big. “Well, thank you. It’s nice to hear.”
“I’ll tell you more often. I promise.” She straightened. “I need to get showered. Frankie is helping me with the dogs today and I want to be on time. I have a few things to say to him.”
Thirty minutes later, with her mother out for yoga, Lucie headed up to the attic to continue the diamond search.
“You up there?” Frankie hollered from the base of the pull-down stairs in the hallway.
“I’m here. Come on up.”
A minute later, his head poked through the opening.
“Hey.” He took a long look at her V-neck T-shirt. “You look hot today. Maybe we’ll stop at my place on the way to the dogs.”
She rolled her eyes. The man was insatiable. “No. The schedule is tight enough.”
“I can be quick.”
She burst out laughing. “Somehow a five-second lay doesn’t sound like fun for me.” Still, she was grinning because she found comfort in Frankie’s sexual appetite. Everything came back to sex with him. Sometimes it was like a buzzing bee around her, but there could be worse things than a man constantly wanting to love her.
He boosted himself into the attic, shoved a box aside and crawled over to her. “I’ll make it fun.”
“I know. I also know it’s important to you that I’m happy. I love you for that. I love you for not giving up on me when I constantly ask you to change the things you don’t want to. I love you because you’re you and I don’t ever want to be without you.”
Frankie settled his gaze on her as he considered her words.
Was he going to say something? Anything? Dust particles floated on the air and Lucie waved a hand at them. It was easier than thinking about how she’d just let her most intimate feelings fly.
He leaned closer and focused on her lips. “I’m definitely getting laid today.”
This would be one of the times when his one-track mind irritated her, and she bit down hard to keep from spewing. Damn him. She turned and flipped the lid on the box closest to her. Had she even gone through this box? Never mind that, how could he not say something more appropriate? Idiot.
“Stop it,” he said. With swift moves, he shoved the box away and mashed her with a lip lock that sent the familiar fire to her core. But no, he would not distract her from being mad, except his hand moved up her waist, his fingers gentle and soothing. His thumb settled at the curve of her breast and stroked and—yow—good stuff there. She inched closer, allowing a chip to form in that wall of anger between them. When he kissed her like this, he knew the power of it, how it affected her and every feminine inch of her adored that.
Still, he was an idiot. Her idiot. But she wanted him. She also want
ed this feeling of floating away. No dognappings, no job loss, no crazy family. Just Frankie bringing calm and lightness to her life.
He pulled back and looked her in the eyes. “I love you. I want you all the time. Don’t be pissed at me for it. It’s my way of telling you what you mean to me.”
“But that was a big moment for me and you reduced it to something sexual.”
“I’m sorry.”
He meant it. The way he refused to look away, his eyes searching hers, told her so. She nodded. “No more talk about sex. We don’t have time. I have to get these last few boxes done, walk the dogs and get home so I can work on collars.”
“Yes, boss.” He glanced around. “How many boxes are left?”
Lucie smacked her hand over three boxes. “Just these.”
“Got it.”
And just like that, he settled in to go through dusty old boxes with her.
“By the way, I talked to my sister about helping with collars. She’s in if you need extra help.”
“Perfect. Another set of hands will help with the orders coming in. She can help with gluing the rhinestones. She’ll have to do it here though. She can bring Paulie with her if her husband isn’t around.”
“Count on that.”
His sister was another one Lucie didn’t understand. “Why does she stay married to him? He’s never home. What’s the point?”
Frankie focused on the newsprint wrapped item in his hand. “No idea. It’s her life. If she wants to spend it married to that knucklehead, I’m not going to argue with her.”
“She could have so much more.”
“Yep.”
And yet she chose to be married to someone in the life. A real leg-breaker. Such a waste.
Lucie watched Frankie carefully unwrap the item that had probably been in this attic for thirty years. “Maybe that’s what your sister knows. Everyone around her is in the life or married to someone in it. You and I are the freaks. We went legitimate.”
Frankie laughed. “You’re right. It’s you and me, babe. We’re stuck with each other.”
“Pretty much. Who else could understand this craziness?”
All this time she’d been fighting, wanting to get away from here, blaming Frankie for not wanting to move. She never once tried to understand his loyalty. Truth was, she’d probably never understand, but as her mother had said, as long as they were a team, maybe she didn’t need to. Tears bubbled behind her eyes and she turned to the box awaiting her attention.
“Luce?”
The softness in his rich voice, like liquid butter gliding over her, brought up a sob. She could never live without hearing that voice. At night, in the morning, when they made love and when he talked dirty. She had to have it.
The sob broke free and she bent over the box and let the tears fall because she’d been such a fool. A fool that almost lost the one thing she’d always wanted.
Fear and relief melded inside her and she hiccupped.
Frankie set the small bowl he’d just unwrapped on the floor and pulled her from her bent position into a hug. “What is it?”
The smell of his soap, some fancy stuff he bought at Neiman’s, drifted into her and she slipped her arms around him and squeezed. She had to tell him. He deserved it. “I’ve been asking you to move away. Moving wouldn’t solve it. We’d still be part of this. We can’t run from our families.”
“Luce, it’s okay. We’re okay. You want things and you’re trying to figure out how to get them. I want things, too. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Finally, she pushed back, gripped his arms. “I’m not going to ask you to move anymore. If this is where you want to be, I’ll deal with it, but we need to set boundaries. I don’t want everyone up our butts all the time.”
“I hear you.”
“I don’t know where my life is going, but I know I don’t want to spend the rest of it being Lucie Rizzo, Mob Princess.”
He shook his head. “You don’t have to.”
“And I want us to be a team. I’m tired of fighting with you about making changes and not defending me to your parents. If you’re willing to set those boundaries and take my side once in a while, then I’m willing to stop bugging you about it.”
“I don’t want to sell my house. I want to stay in Franklin. Are you good with that?”
“Yes. As long as we separate ourselves from the chaos. That’s why I liked living downtown. I was able to be me and didn’t have to think about being Joe Rizzo’s daughter.”
“Luce, you don’t have to live far away to do that. Build your own life and people will see you for what you are. You can be Lucie Rizzo, CEO, whose father happens to be Joe Rizzo.”
She never thought of it that way. Again, he was right. She hated that.
“Good point.”
“Damn straight. And the way things are looking for Coco Barknell, maybe you’ll make me some big-time money.”
Lucie grinned. “Now you’re talking.”
“See. You don’t need to be an investment banker to become a billionaire. You can build a corporation. And I can be a kept man who travels from state to state watching baseball games.”
She laughed. “You’re an idiot.”
“You wouldn’t support me?”
“Oh, I’d support you. As long as you do all the cooking, cleaning and laundry.”
Frankie made a pffing noise and went back to his box. “I’m not doing that.”
“Then you’d better get back to work.” She checked her watch. “We need to hurry with these last two boxes. I made us late with my emotional upheaval.”
He shrugged. “We’ll get it done.”
Yes. They would. That she knew for sure.
***
While walking Otis, Aretha Franklin’s lovely pipes sounded and Lucie snatched her phone from her jacket pocket. A 312 number. Downtown.
Who could this be? Cranky. That’s what she was. Really, she should have been happy because they’d finished the search of the attic and found nothing. Nada. Not one errant diamond.
It should have been a good thing. Except it left them with another dead end.
She picked up the call. “Hello?”
“Lucie?” A man’s voice asked.
“Yes.”
“This is Noel Ferguson at Westerner Bank.”
The guy she had interviewed with. Holy smokes. She glanced at Frankie and shoved the leash at him. Probably a courtesy call to let her know they’d hired someone else. “Hello, Mr. Ferguson.”
Frankie’s mouth slid into an O. He continued walking Otis while Lucie lagged behind.
“I wanted to let you know we’ve been through the candidates and we’ve come to a decision.”
Here it comes, the big kiss-off. “I see.”
“If you’re still available, we’d like to offer you the job.”
A job. She could move out of Franklin and get her life back.
A choir of angels should have been singing. Unfortunately, all Lucie heard was the sound of Otis barking at a car and Frankie telling him to shut the hell up.
She got the job. Just what she’d wanted. Back to being Lucia Rizzo, associate investment banker. Even if it meant seventy-five-hour workweeks.
Something caught in her throat. She swallowed to relieve the pressure. After the last couple of weeks, a banking job sounded pretty darn good. A relief even.
She stared down the block at Otis sniffing his favorite tree. He’d be there for at least five minutes. She knew this, because she and Otis had come to an agreement. She’d give him time at his favorite tree and then, somewhere in the next block, he’d poop for her.
If she took a job, she’d have to give up Otis and Coco Barknell. Abandon her mother and Ro. Lucie’s chest seized. How could she do that to Mom and Ro?
But a banking job? This is what she wanted.
“Lucie?”
She cleared her throat, tightened her grip on the phone. “Mr. Ferguson, thank you for the opportunity. Unfortunately—” Unf
ortunately? What was she doing? “I’ve had another opportunity come up and I’d like to pursue it.”
“Oh.” His voice displayed shock. Or was it irritation?
“I appreciate your offer,” she said. “I don’t want to accept the job if I’m not sure it’s what I want. That wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“I see. I’m disappointed, but your honesty is admirable.”
Honesty. Wasn’t that what she’d been craving all this time? For someone to recognize that in her? For someone to admire her rather than pass judgment?
After exchanging goodbyes, Lucie shoved the phone in her pocket and slapped her hands over her face. Did she really decline a job that offered security, a steady paycheck and the opportunity to move out of Franklin?
Yep. Sure did. God help her. Three weeks ago, she would never have done that. A bird flapped by her head and she straightened, took a breath of crisp morning air and settled herself. It was done now. No turning back.
“Luce?” Frankie called from three houses down. “What’s up?”
She trotted up to him. “I just turned down the banking job.”
His head snapped back. “Seriously?”
“Yep.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yep.”
He laughed. “Really? Because, I don’t believe you.”
She kneeled in front of Otis, stuck her cheek in front of his snout and gratefully accepted a wet lick. After a second of the Otis love, she stood to face Frankie. “Here’s the thing, I don’t have that sick what-did-I-do feeling in my stomach. That tells me I wasn’t ready to give up on Coco Barknell.”
“Good for you, Luce.”
“I guess we’ll see.”
Frankie handed her the leash. “Truthfully, I don’t think you even like banking. You set a goal and getting a job was more about reaching the goal. Did you ever think about that? About actually liking banking?”
No, she hadn’t. Banking gave her credibility, at least she thought so. It had never occurred to her to waver from the plan. “I know I’m not terrified that I just turned down a job. That has to mean something, right?”
