Making Waves

by Tawna Fenske

  “You’re bluffing,” Tom said. “There are no FBI agents in the women’s room.”

  Juli leaned back, craning her neck to the right to yell into the women’s restroom. “Hey, guys?”

  “Yes, ma’am?” called a gravelly voice from the other side of the wall.

  “Can you tell this jerkoff that he probably shouldn’t shoot anyone right now?”

  “Sir, you probably shouldn’t shoot anyone right now,” the voice shouted. “We would take that amiss.”

  “Very amiss,” another voice agreed.

  “And we would be inclined to shoot you, sir,” piped a third voice. “Really hard.”

  “So you see,” Juli said, turning back to Tom, “you may want to put the gun down and step out with your hands up. Because I’m looking at you, and I’m looking at them, and I’ve gotta say—their guns are a lot bigger than yours.”

  Alex watched Tom’s face in profile—watched him go from anger to indignation to bluster and finally, defeat. The whole time, Alex held his pistol ready, waiting.

  “Fine,” Tom said, stepping out into the alley and bending slowly forward to set the gun on the ground at Juli’s feet. He looked up at her and lifted his hands into the air. “I want my lawyer,” he snarled. “Right now! Bantam and Royal Law Group, same as Frankie always used. Get them right now, dammit.”

  “Sure thing, Tom,” Juli said, stooping down to retrieve the gun, handling it like a pro. Alex started to tell her not to—that the FBI would want it as evidence.

  That’s when he noticed the four FBI officers were not rushing from the restroom to cuff Tom Portelli. They weren’t barking orders over radios or whisking Juli to safety. In fact, they were peculiarly silent on the other side of the wall.

  Fuck me, Alex thought, shaking his head as he yanked off his belt before tucking his pistol back in his pants. Stepping up to his former boss, he gave Tom a nudge with his knee and jerked his ex-boss’s arms behind his back.

  Juli fluttered a wave at Alex, keeping the gun trained on Portelli’s head.

  “Hi, Alex. How’s it going?”

  “Just great, Juli,” he said, genuinely meaning it. “Just great.”

  She beamed as Alex cinched Tom’s wrists together with the belt. “Excellent. Did you order already?”

  “Absolutely,” Alex said. “Food should probably be there by now. Hopefully it’s not getting cold. That’d be a real shame.”

  Tom frowned and craned his neck to look into the women’s room. “But the FBI. My lawyers.”

  “I’m sure they’ll all be joining the party soon,” Alex said. He raised one eyebrow at Juli and watched as her smile broadened.

  “Who’s in the bathroom?” he asked as he secured the belt around Tom’s wrists.

  Juli beamed. “Bob, Gretchen, Sal, and Sadie. Our waitress, the busboy, the cook, and a diner unlucky enough to get caught in the shuffle when I was herding everyone to the bathroom after I heard you guys talking over here. Oh, and PS, these bathroom walls are really thin. Peeing during a stickup, Alex?”

  Tom’s expression was incredulous. “But, but—I don’t believe this. You tricked me. This is an abomination! This is unacceptable! Untie me right now!”

  Alex clamped his hand on Tom Portelli’s shoulder and shook his head. “Let’s go, Tom. We can find the police station and tell them how sorely you were mistreated. I’m sure they’ll be very sympathetic.”

  ***

  It took a couple hours to sort through all the confusion, but eventually, Tom Portelli was ensconced safely in a holding cell at the Royal St. Lucia police station, waiting for his attorneys. The FBI was already en route and very interested to hear that the man they’d had an eye on for several years was safely in custody.

  The three crewmen from the cargo ship were rounded up and shuttled to the police station as well. Remarkably, Juli and Alex were allowed to go. Despite their plans to commit several crimes over the course of the last few days, they were relieved to discover they hadn’t actually succeeded in committing any that were worth detaining them for. Juli felt it unwise to point that out to the police.

  By the time they found the hotel room Malcolm had reserved, it was nearly midnight.

  “I’m starving,” Juli said as she flopped onto one of the king-sized beds and looked around the room. Alex was still standing by the door, looking wary.

  “Do you think they have room service here?” she asked him.

  Alex hesitated, then moved into the room and began pawing through the brochures and booklets arranged atop the table near the window. He handed her the room service menu and kept moving past, careful not to even brush her hand.

  “Didn’t you box up all those appetizers at the restaurant?” he asked. “I thought you already ate.”

  “Sure, but I ate it all at the police station. Now I’m hungry again.”

  Alex shook his head and sat stiffly on the edge of the other bed. He folded his hands in his lap while Juli studied the menu and wondered what the hell was going on with him. He had been strangely quiet on their cab ride to the hotel, but she’d chalked it up to exhaustion. Now, seeing his shoulders rigid and his forehead creased in a frown, she could tell there was something on his mind. She saw his eyes slide over her body, then quickly dart away.

  “Want anything special?” she asked as she picked up the phone. “Cheese sticks? Club sandwich?”

  Alex looked at her again. “I want to know how you got to be such good buddies with Tom Portelli.”

  Juli turned the menu over and shrugged. “I don’t see that on here. How about a chef salad instead?”

  “I take it you’ve known him awhile?”

  “Maybe a nice Denver omelet?” she offered hopefully.

  “How about Uncle Frank—or Frankie-Two-Toes, as he’s more commonly known,” Alex said, not giving up. “I take it you two were close?”

  “I know! A piece of cheesecake. Strawberry or passion fruit?”

  Alex stared at her for a moment, then shook his head. “Do they have burgers?”

  “Cheese or regular?”

  “Cheese, please. Make sure you get extra fries.”

  Juli dialed and placed an order for a Denver omelet with a triple order of sausage links, french fries, two cheeseburgers, a garden salad, two Cokes, and two pieces of cheesecake—one strawberry, one passion fruit. When she hung up, Alex was still staring at her. She couldn’t read his expression at all. Was he preoccupied? Hungry? Horny? Honestly, it could be any of those things.

  Juli was hoping for the latter.

  Alex continued to stare and Juli shivered under the weight of his gaze. “What?” She rubbed her arms to make the fuzziness die down, but it only made her skin feel hot and achy with the need to be touched.

  “Is any of that food for me besides the cheeseburger?”

  She smiled and set the menu down on the nightstand. “The fries, of course, but I’m not sharing my sausages. I’ll fight to the death over sausage links.”

  “Now that I’ve seen you in a fight, I’ll consider myself warned. Nice job with Portelli, by the way.”

  “Thanks. You too.”

  Juli moved toward the end of her bed where she’d dropped her bag. She bent forward and rummaged around for her toothbrush, intent on doing something to cut the tension. She pulled out Uncle Frank’s urn and set it on the edge of the dresser, then dug back in her knapsack for the toothbrush. She found it tangled in a sock and pulled it out. Alex was quiet for so long that Juli glanced up to see what he was doing. He was staring openly, right down the front of her shirt.

  “Enjoying the view?” she asked, still bent over, bolder than she felt. “Let me know when you’d like to retrieve your eyeballs from my cleavage.”

  “Actually, I’ll just leave them there awhile if it’s all the same to you.”

  She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  Alex watched her for a few more seconds, then shook his head. “This shared luxury suite thing is a bad, bad idea,” he said as he flopped back on
the bed. “This bed’s mine, that one’s yours. No more strip Battleship. No more staring down the front of your shirt. We’re going to behave like responsible adults. This isn’t a good time for—well, for—”

  “Whatever you say, boss,” she said with a shrug as she began strolling the room. “Nice place.” She flicked a lamp on and off and on and off again as she chewed the head of her toothbrush. She switched sides, working the rest of her teeth, still aware of Alex’s gaze. Finally, she looked up to see him studying her, an amused smile playing over his features.

  “The toiletries are pretty fancy,” she said, extracting the toothbrush. “Did you check out the bathroom? Little soaps in their own box, mouthwash, a shower cap, shampoo and conditioner—not that all-in-one crap.”

  She chewed the toothbrush again, watching him.

  “No toothpaste?” Alex said. “Because normal people brush their teeth at a sink with toothpaste and water. Ever tried it?”

  “You really think the only thing separating me from normal is how I brush my teeth?”

  “Good point. Let’s return to the original line of questioning.” Alex sat up on the bed again. “How long have you known Tom Portelli?”

  Juli sighed. He wasn’t going to let this die. And really, there was no reason not to tell him. He already knew her freak-of-nature genius status. What were a few family mob ties on top of all that?

  “Uncle Frank brought Tom to Christmas dinner when I was three,” she said finally. “He was pretty much a fixture at family events whenever he was in town. His wife, Ginny, used to braid my hair and even bought me my first training bra.”

  Alex nodded, looking a little distracted by that detail. “How well did you know Tom?” he asked. “Or your Uncle Frank, for that matter?”

  “Well enough, on both counts,” Juli said as she dropped onto the edge of her bed and bounced a little.

  She saw his eyes fall to her breasts again, watched him swallow hard and look away. He reached behind him and tugged one of the pillows out from under the duvet. Propping it behind him, he leaned back, folded his hands over his chest, and settled his gaze on the ceiling.

  Probably figured it was a safer place to look.

  Pity, that, Juli thought.

  “What else?” Alex prompted, and Juli felt the room tilt as she considered what he might be suggesting.

  “Oh—you mean Portelli and Uncle Frank?” She folded her arms over her chest, annoyed. “Why, because you’ve been so forthcoming with information to this point?”

  He looked at her again, those green eyes pinning her with such intensity she was sure he could see right through her clothing.

  I’ll tell you anything you want, she thought. Just keep looking at me that way.

  “I knew Uncle Frank and Tom Portelli were business partners,” Juli said at last. “As I got older, I figured their business wasn’t always legal. I didn’t know for sure until Uncle Frank told me everything just before he died, but I guess you could say I wasn’t surprised by anything he said.”

  Alex nodded. “So that was true. The part about the deathbed confession, I mean. After the fake FBI thing, I wasn’t really sure which parts of your story were true and which parts you just made up.”

  Juli shrugged and stuffed her toothbrush back into her bag and scooted back to the edge of her bed. She pressed the balls of her feet against his knees to stretch her calves. “Let’s see, the deathbed confession part was true. The part about the memoir, not so much. I don’t even know anyone in New York City, much less a publisher. I did actually call the FBI as soon as I heard Tom would be here. I wasn’t lying about that. They just hadn’t arrived yet, so I had to improvise.”

  “Nice job with that,” Alex said. “Seriously, you probably saved my life.”

  “Nah, he wouldn’t have shot you.”

  “Sure he would have.”

  “Okay, he would have.” She wiggled her toes against his calf, savoring the feel of the thick hair and muscled flesh. “So how about you? How long have you known Tom?”

  Alex sighed. “More than twenty years. Started at Kranston right out of college, when I was broke and trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life.” He laughed. “Kind of ironic, considering where I am now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged. “Right back where I started. I was at the bottom of the corporate ladder in the beginning, and I made my way up to becoming a VP at Kranston. Worked closely with Tom the whole time. Had a pretty nice pension, good benefits, the whole nine yards.”

  “What happened?”

  Alex was quiet for a long time, and Juli thought he was going to avoid the question again. She was so used to having him withhold information, she was surprised when he finally spoke.

  “Portelli hosed us,” he said at last. “Me, Phyllis, Jake, Cody—and a bunch of others. Our pensions, stock options, benefits, everything we’d worked for—gone. Just like that.”

  “So you were getting even,” Juli said, understanding at last. “That’s what you meant when you said the pirate mission was personal. But you didn’t get your money back since the cargo wasn’t there. So now what?”

  She saw him wince, and wished like hell she could take back the question. Smiling Alex was gone, replaced by Surly Alex now.

  “I don’t know what’s next,” he said. “I sunk most of my savings into my boat last year, and lost more in the stock market a few months back. Figured I had time to make it up with a steady job and a great pension, but now—” He shook his head and looked away. “I am jobless and penniless at forty-two years old. Hot, huh?”

  Juli frowned. “What does hot have to do with anything?”

  He looked away. “I should be at the peak of my earning potential right now, and instead, I’m starting from scratch.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she said. “I’ve only known you a week, but you’re one of the most resilient people I’ve ever met. I’m sure you’ll land on your feet.”

  “Sure.”

  “Alex—”

  He looked at her. “When’s the food getting here?”

  “Soon.” Juli looked at him a moment longer, then shook her head. Clearly, money and job security was a touchy subject.

  Maybe mobsters would be better.

  “So Uncle Frank is the reason you refused to tell me any details about the mission?” she asked. “Because of the whole mob thing?”

  “No, actually,” Alex said, shifting his leg a little to trap her feet under his calf. Juli grinned and wiggled her toes beneath the weight, enjoying the sensation of having any part of her body pinned under any part of Alex’s on a bed.

  “We didn’t figure out you were the niece of a famous mobster until just yesterday morning,” he continued, still not looking at her as he squashed her toes under his calf. “I’d heard of Frankie before, obviously. Notorious guy. But I didn’t know he had any connection to Tom. That part was news to me.”

  Juli wiggled her toes some more, then pulled them free and sat up. She stared at Alex, willing him to look at her, trying to figure out how to make him smile again. Keep him talking, maybe that would do it.

  “So what can you tell me about—”

  “Look,” he interrupted, “why don’t we call it quits with the Twenty Questions for now. When do you think the food will be here?”

  Juli clapped her hands together and grinned. “That’s a great idea!”

  Alex gave her a puzzled look. “The food? You already ordered it.”

  She shook her head and dropped onto his bed beside him, crossing her legs. “Twenty Questions. Let’s play!”

  He shook his head, but he’d started to smile. “You’re something else, you know that?”

  Juli grinned back. “I’ll take that as a compliment. You want to go first?”

  “Really, when is the food coming?”

  Juli checked her watch. “Ten minutes. We’ve got time for at least one round of Twenty Questions. Come on, Alex, it’ll be fun.”

  He grabbed Ju
li’s foot and tickled it, making her squeal. “Fine,” he said. “One game. Why do I have a feeling I’ll regret this?”

  “You always have that feeling,” she pointed out. “Do you ever regret it?”

  “Not yet.”

  ***

  Alex couldn’t believe he’d let her talk him into another game. Jesus. The first one had gotten him married. The second had gotten him a foot job. The third had gotten him naked. Now what—conversion to a religious cult?

  Sharing a room with her was insane, especially with all these secrets that kept popping up like something out of a deranged jack-in-the-box. The genius thing, the mobster uncle, the ties to Portelli. Sleeping with her would be stupid. What the hell else was she hiding—a sex change operation?

  He looked at her, flushed and round in that tank top. No, probably not a sex change.

  Still, he had to stay focused. He had to figure out what to do about the cargo. About his vanished pension. About the fact that he was forty-two years old and jobless with no retirement package and no clue what the hell had gone wrong with his plan to get it all back. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted.

  “Okay,” he said finally, willing to do anything to get Juli to stop bouncing around, moving under that thin tank top, making him want her so badly he was five seconds from pushing her backwards onto that bed and really making her toes curl.

  “You ask questions first,” he said. “I picked an object. Go.”

  Juli jumped up, and Alex couldn’t help but watch as she grabbed all the pillows off her bed and began tossing them onto his.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Sitting by you,” she announced, leaning over him to straighten the pillows, reaching back to grab two more before crawling across his lap to sprawl out beside him. She flounced and jostled for a minute longer before settling beside him and matching his pose. She grinned.

  “Your bed is closer to the air conditioner,” Juli informed him. “I like it better over here.”

  Oh, good, Alex thought. Juli in a flimsy top next to the air conditioner. He looked at his watch, willing the room service staff to hurry up. Maybe he could get his burger raw?