by Gina LaManna
“Well I’d prefer you come for the whole time…” I sighed, kicking a patch of snow on the ground. “But I suppose I’ll take what I can get.”
“Don’t look so sad, babe. Time will fly by. Cheer up, buttercup. It’s your first real job under your own business, you should be thrilled.”
“I should’ve said no.” My voice sounded sullen, maybe even a teensy bit whiney. “I’m not prepared to do this without you. I should have asked if you were available before I agreed to anything.”
“Stop that.” Anthony’s voice was firm. “That’s not the Lacey I fell for; where’s the girl who thinks she can take on the entire Russian mob with a gun caked in sprinkles? Or the girl who wears glittery gold dresses that tend to explode? Or the one who has escaped The Fish’s grasp not once, but twice? Or the girl who somehow managed to wear yoga pants to a formal event last week and still be the most beautiful girl in the room?”
I hid a smile, still keeping my eyes downturned.
“I see you, smiling behind that scarf,” Anthony said, his voice trying for lighthearted. “I have faith in you. I know you can do a good job. Who else has sung karaoke with a concussion, brought a stuffed cow to a water tower, and hunted down magical sauce on her birthday?”
“That’s not exactly a promising resume.”
“Of course it is.” Anthony shook his head. “I’d argue it’s better than most. Because what it tells me is that you’re willing to do whatever the job takes in order to be successful. Yes?”
I gave a hesitant nod, after considering some of the unpleasant things I’d had to do since joining the Luzzi forces.
“Security detail for a poodle in Hollywood?” Anthony shook his head. “This’ll be a piece of cake.”
“Cake?”
“There’s my girl.” Anthony manually forced my chin upward until I met his gaze. “You can do this, got it?”
I bobbed my head from side to side, not really committing to a yes or a no.
“Say it.”
“No.”
“Say it.”
“Maybe I can do it,” I mumbled grudgingly.
“No, say you can do it.”
“You can do it.”
Anthony rolled his eyes. “You’re being difficult.”
“No, I’m being stubborn. Because I don’t want to leave,” I said, my confession just popping right out of my mouth. “Not without you.”
Anthony and I had been dating for some time now, so expressing my feelings was becoming a little more normal. But there was still so much I didn’t know about Anthony that sometimes I wondered if I was coming on too strong. The last thing I wanted to do was push him away, just when I’d gotten up the courage to admit I wanted him around.
“At least look at me when you say that,” Anthony spoke, his voice crystal clear as it drifted under the stars. “I don’t want you to leave, either. God knows I’ll never hang a stocking without you, and I was hoping to bribe you into wrapping Nora’s gift from me.”
“Bribe me with what?”
In response, Anthony dipped his head, his lips molding against mine. The warmth of his touch in the frigid air shocked my system, goosebumps prickling my skin as I leaned into the kiss. His un-mittened hands wound through my hair, pulling my locks tight against my scalp before he moved his hands to the side of my face, holding it in place as he worked his Christmas charm.
I lost my breath somewhere around his first touch, and when he took a step back, my heart was having palpitations.
“Have I convinced you?” Anthony gave a wry shake of his head. “I don’t want you to leave, either.”
“What if I don’t go?” I glanced at the plane. “I haven’t been paid yet. With that sort of money, Lizabeth could find a new team, no problem.”
“Just because I want you to stay here doesn’t mean you should. I want you to do what’s right for you. And if that means starting your own side business, then I’m proud of you.” Anthony’s arms wound snugly around my jacket, his hand slipping under the edges, startling me with his cold fingers as he brushed them against my stomach. “I support you. Doesn’t mean I can’t ask you to stay, or be sad when you leave.”
I bit my lip, looking between Anthony and the plane. I wanted desperately to stay, but Meg and Clay had already made themselves at home on the jet, Lizabeth was expecting us, and…Harold?
“Harold, what are you doing here?” I called over Anthony’s shoulder.
The butler stood next to the jet, dressed as always in his incredible suit and tie. He hadn’t changed a lick of clothing, despite the fact that he now stood outside in freezing temps. His hands also remained mitten-free which boggled my mind. I’d have no fingers left if I pulled that sort of stunt. Were they immune to frostbite?
“I’m accompanying you to Hollywood, Miss Lacey.” Harold gave a long bow of his head.
“But…no offense, Harold, I didn’t ask you to come.” I paused. “I don’t want Carlos to be annoyed at me for stealing his doorman. If Carlos gets wind of my taking his team, my ‘side project’ will be shot down before it even gets off the ground.”
“I have off until Christmas,” Harold said, his ears turning a bit red. I doubted it was a symptom of the cold, since only God knew how long he’d been waiting outside. “I requested vacation.”
“You never request vacation,” I said before I could stop myself. “I don’t understand.”
“One of the reasons I have to stay back,” Anthony whispered. “I’m training a backup doorman in his absence. We didn’t realize that Harold, in all his years here, has never taken a day off. Nobody even knows what he does all day.”
“You’re kidding me.”
Anthony shook his head. “But that’s not the only reason I’m staying, don’t worry. Harold has nothing to do with the other project.”
“What is the reason, then?” I knew the chances were ninety-nine percent that Anthony couldn’t – or wouldn’t – tell me the details, but it was worth a shot.
True to form, he shook his head, his lips flattening. “Can’t say. You’ll understand when you return.”
When I return? I didn’t have time to follow up with the rest of my questions, since Harold suddenly decided he was the boss.
“Are you coming, Lacey? Wheels up in two minutes.” The butler looked at his watch. “Chop chop.”
“What’s gotten into him?” I asked Anthony. “Never seen him so impatient before. Is everything okay between him and Carlos?”
Anthony, meanwhile, had broken out in a huge grin. “I think I understand what’s happening here.”
“Please, I’d love to be included in your revelations,” I said dryly.
“Harold, was this plane sent for you?” Anthony called over my shoulder.
My jaw dropped. I whipped around to face the butler.
The red of Harold’s ears spread to his face, and then his neck. “Yes, sir.”
Anthony laughed. “Good man, good man. Enjoy your days off, my friend.”
“Harold!” I exclaimed. “Do you have a thing for Lizabeth?”
“What do you mean by thing?” he asked. “We’re acquaintances. After her last visit, we remained in touch via cell phone and handwritten letters.”
“You’re pen pals.” My tone was dumbfounded. “What a surprise! Didn’t know you had it in ya.”
“Well, we mustn’t keep her waiting any longer, hmm?” Anthony looked at me, his eyebrow raised in an amused expression. “It seems Harold is in a hurry to take off.”
“I’ll say,” I grumbled. “You sure I can’t kidnap you?”
“Don’t say that too loud, or I’m afraid Meg will take you seriously and try to pepper spray me, and then shove me in a suitcase and drag me on the plane as your Christmas gift.”
I sighed. “Fine. So I’ll see you not tomorrow, but the next night?”
Anthony nodded.
“Look at us, apart for less than forty-eight hours, having a hard time saying goodbye.” I let out a weak laugh. “What’s ha
ppening? I’ve never felt like this before.”
Though it was hard to tell, Anthony might have turned a shade paler. “You’ll do great.” He leaned in, kissing me on the cheek. “And like you said, I’ll see you before you know it. Call if you need anything at all, and I can be there in three hours.”
“I thought the flight from MSP to LAX was four hours?”
“For you, doll, I’ll make it in three.” Anthony rested his hands on my shoulders, his eyes glittering a beautiful hazelnut color.
His gaze locked so intensely on mine that everything and everyone else disappeared. I swallowed, hoping I hadn’t said too much, put my heart too far out there. If someone stomped on it, I didn’t know how I’d cope, because as exhilarating as it was falling for Anthony, it was just as scary. Maddeningly so. Because my emotions were no longer my own to hold, to protect, to shield from the dangerous world. Part of me had become raw and exposed, and even if I wanted to, there was no going back.
“Bye,” I said. “I, uh…I’ll miss you.”
Anthony leaned in for one more kiss that caused my toes to curl in my new pair of knock-off Uggs, my gloved hands twisting in his thick, dark mane of hair. When he backed up, I blinked a few times, making sure I wouldn’t have any frozen tears poking at my cheeks, and walked towards the entrance.
“Love birds,” Meg called from the entrance. “Get a grip! We’ll be back in two days, and that’s if you don’t start a fire in Hollywood. Be honest with yourself, Lacey. What are the chances you’ll have to call Anthony for help before we’re back?”
“Hey!” I crossed my arms, the sentimental moment gone. “I can handle my own business.”
“Yeah? Last time we had a girls’ weekend, how did that turn out?” Meg winked, her voice kind. “Anthony was called before we even slept one night at that cabin.”
“The dead body wasn’t my fault.”
“Sure.” She rolled her eyes. “They never are.”
I climbed the stairs to the jet, Harold behind me. While Meg and the butler tucked themselves in place on the luxury aircraft, I turned back at the entrance. I held up a hand in a wave, and Anthony returned the gesture, mirroring my forced smile.
How long I stood there, I had no idea. I held eye contact with Anthony, looking down from the aircraft at the never-ending expanse of snow covered fields, the sparkle of the stars – extra visible out here in the abandoned fields, without the light pollution from hundreds upon millions of homes. The shimmering whiteness glittered, reflected in Anthony’s near black eyes, and the tug on my heart nearly caused me to jump down from the plane and run back to him.
I stood there, my hand raised in a limp wave, until the plane’s door began to close automatically. Even then, I couldn’t move, frozen in place until the final clink locked the door in place, severing our gaze.
“Lacey,” Meg said, resting a hand on my shoulder and speaking softly. “Come on, honey. Come sit down.”
I let my best friend guide me to a seat next to her, and I took the glass of proffered champagne if for no other reason than to keep my hands busy. And as the jet rumbled to life, pre-flight announcements were made, and the wheels lifted off the ground, the first grips of fear squeezed my insides. What had I gotten myself into?
CHAPTER 4
“Harold, you dog,” Meg said, an hour later. “I still can’t believe you kept this a secret from all of us. Didn’t you know it’s important to gossip about your love life? Otherwise, if you hold it all inside you wither up and die.”
“That’s not true,” Clay said, his face burning bright. Leaning over, he whispered for my ears only. “Right?”
I grinned. After sixty minutes on a luxury jet, I’d relaxed and my fears had faded, along with my disappointment that Anthony couldn’t have joined us on the trip. To complain would make me an ungrateful little prick. Here I was, surrounded by my best of friends, twenty-five thousand dollars richer, the opportunity to start my own business, and I was griping over the fact I had to be away from my boyfriend for a day and a half.
The glasses of bubbly and plates of fancy little finger sandwiches had also helped take my mind off things, and I’d cheered up significantly. “It’s true, Clay. What Meg said is completely true. So…in order to not explode from withheld gossip, tell us about your love life.”
“You all are lying to me.” Clay stood up. “Enough about love, I’m leaving. I have some research to do.”
As we were currently traveling tens of thousands of feet above the ground in a metal box, Clay couldn’t “leave” per se, so he just scooted to the opposite corner of the couch and opened his laptop. A minute later, our conversation had a background track of clicks, clacks, and peppered swear words.
The jet itself had Internet faster than most cellular networks, the carpet more luxurious than my most expensive comforter. Tables lined one side, and we sat in the plush sitting area along the other. Several highly-trained, very polite staff made sure our drinks were never empty and our plates of food never diminished in size. If I lived like this for longer than two days, I’d be guaranteed to come back fifty pounds heavier.
I leaned over to where Tupac the Cat’s carrier sat next to me and dripped two tiny drops of bubbly into his water bowl. “Want to try?”
“You can’t feed him that,” Clay snapped. “You’re trying to get our cat drunk?”
“I just thought he might like a little flavoring in his water. Poor guy is stuck with plain stuff day in and day out.” I’d only put, like, two drops into a little cup full of water, but I refrained. “I think this is Tupac’s first vacation. We should take a picture.”
“Bad idea to let the cat out on the plane, even if you’re trying to take a selfie with him,” Clay said. “You know how long it took to coax him into the carrier in the first place?”
“I do know actually, since I did it myself,” I said. Though it had taken a clever mixture of cat food, a fan, and industrial snow gear to get the job done. Snow pants and ski jackets were surprisingly cat-scratch resistant.
“Since we’re on the subject of love, do you think Poopsie wants a date to the red carpet?” Meg asked. “If so, I think Tupac the Cat might be the perfect candidate.”
“I’m not sure if the cat is a girl or a boy,” I said. “To be perfectly honest.”
Clay just glared at me. “Boy.”
“See, that’s what the vet says, but he sure has an attitude like a girl.” I shook my head.
“That’s okay,” Meg chirped. “Doesn’t really matter. Hollywood is a liberal place. They support all types of folks. Carlos should take notes.”
“We’ll see.” I glanced at Tupac the Cat, who sometimes mistook himself for a tiger, what with his vicious attitude and power-trip outlook on life. “We’d all have to wear snow pants to the red carpet, and that just might cramp our style.”
“But he’s so stinkin’ cute,” Meg said. “Let’s think about it. Maybe we could find him a nice Christmas sweater or something.”
“So, Harold…” I began. “Would you care to explain the nature of your visit to Los Angeles?”
“Gross, Lacey!” Meg shook her head. “Don’t ask questions like that. Isn’t it obvious? It’s conjugal.”
I wrinkled my nose. “That’s not what I was getting at.”
“What are you getting at, Lacey?” Harold looked my way. “Is it so difficult to believe I’m a desirable date?”
“No, but—”
Harold waved a hand. “Lizabeth and I…we have a connection. Emotionally, physically, mentally—”
“How could you tell that after five minutes of being with the lady?” I asked. “She came to the estate, picked up her dog’s crown, and left.”
Harold glanced at the floor. His gaze only turned away for a second, but it was enough.
“You are a dog!” Meg pointed a finger at him. “You entertained Lizabeth that night, didn’t you?”
“We shared a deep, meaningful conversation,” Harold snapped. He reached for a finger sandwich an
d shoved it in his mouth without any of his usual, refined grace. “And yes, we shared a very nice kiss.”
“Only a kiss?” Meg crossed her arms. “You’re off your game, Harold.”
“We continued our courtship from a distance,” Harold said, ignoring Meg. “And after a month and a half, we both decided it was time to see each other again.”
“Are you staying through Christmas?” I asked.
Harold shook his head, his lips turning up in a smile. “How could I? I haven’t missed a Luzzi Family Christmas in nearly forty years.”
“Dang, you’re old,” Meg said.
“Meg!” I eyed my friend.
“Just saying.” She shrugged. “It’s a compliment. I hope I’m still getting fresh with the boys when I’m his age.”
Harold looked surprisingly pleased. “Age is just a number.”
“You’ve been spending too much time around Nora,” I said. “So you’re just coming out for a visit?”
“Well, yes. But Lizabeth asked me to be her date to the red carpet. It’s an important day for her little Poopsie, and I wanted to be there to celebrate it with them.” Harold took a long, deep breath. “I also reminded her of your services, should they be needed. I only hope it wasn’t a mistake.”
“You convinced her to go with me?” I blinked in disbelief. “Wow, Harold, we should split some of this money then, a sort of referral fee.”
“I don’t need money.” Harold sipped from his glass. “Just make sure you leave us plenty of private time.”
“Does being a butler pay well, or what?” Meg shifted on the couch. “I’m considering a career change. How’d you get so much money?”
“Harold didn’t say he was rich, Meg. Plus, you might get bored.” I looked at my friend. “You’re already basically a doorman at Shotz. And you got the power to kick people out there.”
“Good point,” Meg said. “Harold, you rich?”
“You don’t have to answer that,” I said.
Harold gave a slight smile. “I haven’t paid rent for over forty years, I don’t buy food, I haven’t taken any vacations, and I make more than a comfortable salary. I’ll let you do the math.”
