by MB Austin
“Everybody has a bad day sometimes.” Rose could think of several that involved men with guns.
“Not our Ri. Catch her in the morning. She’ll be back on her game.”
Rose found her room disappointingly empty, the window open. And the sheets changed to a crisp, fresh set that didn’t smell like anyone. She didn’t look forward to Maji back on her game. Back behind the shell of perfect Ri.
A surge crested through Rose, and she sat upright, gasping in the dark. She had been dancing with Maji—a hot salsa, turning nearly into sex right on the dance floor. At the recollection, another wave washed through her, bending her upright. Rose leaned back on her elbows and let the sensations slowly ebb, wiggling the last tingle out of her toes. A dream hadn’t woken her like that since she was an adolescent, her subconscious speaking loudly to her in her single bed. All these years later, the message didn’t surprise her, only the intensity.
Had she made any telltale noises? Rose had heard Maji slip into the room earlier and bed down by the door almost silently. She worried less now about having embarrassed herself than the possibility of disturbing her personal ninja’s rest. The floor still wasn’t where she wanted Maji, but at least now she understood.
Rose listened into the velvety darkness. In the cool stillness, the cicadas sounded out of proportion, like traffic thrumming by in the night. She rolled quietly off the side of the bed and stepped toward the bathroom. A snuffling from the doorway caught Rose’s ear, and she turned instead to the spot where she knew Maji would be, hopefully sleeping soundly.
Rose tiptoed closer and realized that Maji was crying in her sleep. What kind of bad day caused that? Between little gulps of air, Maji mumbled something indistinct but plaintive. Should she wake her? Remembering the last time she’d tried that, Rose stood out of reach and called to her instead. “Maji! Wake up.” No response. She clapped sharply, like Hannah in the dojo. “Wake up.”
Maji made a choking noise and rolled to look up at Rose. “Qué? Qué pasa?”
Was she here, or on her floor in Brooklyn again, Rose wondered. She crouched down and wiped Maji’s damp cheek. Either way, she didn’t need to be alone with her grief. “You were crying. Are you okay?”
“Sorry,” Maji answered, sitting up and bending her head to mop her face with her T-shirt.
Rose slid down to the floor before Maji could collect herself completely and gently wrapped her, one arm and leg behind her like a backrest, the other hand stroking the loose hair off her forehead. Instead of pulling away, Maji tucked her head into the space between Rose’s ear and collarbone and let herself be held. Her breath tickled Rose’s skin in a soft, steady rhythm, but Rose could swear her pulse increased.
When Rose finally had to shift for her own comfort, flexing the backrest leg out and bending it to curl in around them, Maji straightened up, pulling Rose’s other leg over hers. She ran one palm up to Rose’s knee, then to her hip, and up the arch of her back, under Rose’s long, loose T-shirt. Rose closed her eyes, soaking in the slow, thoughtful caress. When she opened them, Maji’s eyes were level with her own, the wounded look in them mixed with a questioning. Rose leaned in a fraction, and the hunger of Maji’s kiss rocked her. They entwined, Rose’s legs circling Maji, both their arms pressing their torsos together, mouths melded. As Maji’s tongue touched the roof of her mouth, Rose felt another wave roll up through her body, pitching her within Maji’s arms.
“I’m sorry,” Maji panted, pulling back and looking into Rose’s eyes.
“I’m not,” Rose replied, hugging Maji to her, speaking with her lips nearly brushing Maji’s ear. “I’ll play whatever game of pretend you need, out there. But you know how I really feel. And I don’t owe you an apology for that.” She kissed the sweet spot just below Maji’s ear, tasting salt.
With a quick twist, Maji was up on her knees and starting to stand. Rose reached out for her, clasped her wrist. Maji reached down and took Rose’s other hand, pulling her to her feet.
Maji let her go, rocking back. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. The pain in her eyes said she wasn’t playing, but she was moving away, inside, to some place Rose couldn’t follow.
Rose tried to close the physical gap between them, but Maji laid one hand gently on her sternum, her arm a bar. “I can’t,” she whispered, her eyes pleading for understanding.
“You already are,” Rose replied, covering Maji’s hand with her own, pressing it into the beating of her chest. “Either get into my bed, or get out of my room,” she added. “Please.”
Maji stared at her a brief moment, as if frozen in place. Then she dropped her head, pivoted, and slipped out the door.
When Rose went downstairs late the next morning, Maji was gone. At some point, she’d come back in and removed her bedroll without making a sound. The door to Carlo’s room was open, and Rose walked in. The bathroom was empty, too. She peeked into the closet, her sheepishness replaced by relief at the sight of Maji’s few pieces of clothing hanging there.
In the kitchen, Frank loaded dishes into the machine, alone. He smiled at her as she entered. “Sleeping in, huh? Like a real vacation. You want some breakfast? We got eggs and bacon leftover.”
“No. Thanks. Just coffee. I’m not trying to put weight on, like some people.”
Frank walked her to the Big House, not leaving her at the base of the curving steps up to the patio as usual but accompanying her up. At the top, they found Dev standing watch with his back to the kitchen door, his eyes hidden behind mirrored sunglasses. In his khaki cargo pants and button-down denim shirt, he looked like a hired gun. Especially with the gun in full sight at his hip.
“Dude,” Frank said, giving him the up-nod.
“Dude,” Dev replied.
“Have you been out here all morning?” Rose asked. It was heating back up again, and he had no water bottle in sight. Not even a glass.
“Couple hours.” He flexed his long legs, putting a little bend in his knees. But his posture remained like a cop on crowd duty—tall and erect, with his hands clasped lightly in front of him. There was no complaint in his voice.
“Well, come have some lunch,” Rose suggested, “and cool off.”
“Thanks, no,” he said, stepping away from the door to open it for them.
Frank took the door from him and waited for Rose to go through. She hesitated. “At least let me get you a drink.”
He gave her a polite nod. “Thanks.”
Inside, Rose and Frank found Sienna and Aunt Paola and Aunt Jackie at the dining table, with Nonna. Nonna appeared to have nodded off and startled at their entrance. “You wanted to see me?”
“We’re all done,” Aunt Paola said. Something in her tone made Rose feel she’d missed an appointment.
“I’ll run you through what we picked out,” Jackie said. “And Frank, Ricky wants you.”
“Sure. Where’s he at?”
Sienna’s face lit up, and she directed the answer to Rose. “Down at the rec room, setting up the stuff Ang ordered for us.”
“Oh, good,” Rose replied. The last thing she wanted today was a workout with Sienna. Even if it meant she got to hit something.
Frank left them, and Paola excused herself. Sienna helped Nonna walk unsteadily out to her favorite spot in the living room, while Jackie quickly ran Rose through the plans for dressing up the house as the Hotel Nacional.
“No one’s actually staying here, are they?” Rose asked, hoping they weren’t pushing the legendary Cuban meeting analogy that far. One afternoon and evening being nice to a crowd of Family associates might be more than she could stomach, as it was.
“Hell, no. They got drivers. Nobody has to stay over,” Jackie replied. “Maybe Uncle Lupo. He likes to drive his boat over. And he never sleeps on it. He gets too tanked up, Paola will find him a room.”
“Well, that’s a relief. And your house?”
“Strictly off-limits. Not even a friendly tour of the place. One thing the Big House is good for, it’s keeping nosy wives ou
t of mine.”
And away from Angelo and Sander’s work space, Rose noted. Although by next week, maybe they would have closed up shop. “Aunt Jackie? After the party, I’ll be free to leave, right?”
“Sure, hon. But Ang would love it if you stayed a few days more, waved him bon voyage.”
“Bon voyage?”
Jackie looked at her sideways. “He’s moving to Vienna, end of next week. He didn’t tell you?”
“No.” So that was Ang’s cover for getting into Witness Protection. Maybe he’d disappear between Long Island and his flight to Austria. “How do you feel about that?”
Jackie shrugged. “I can visit. I hear the food’s good. You should make a trip with me, maybe winter break. You get those in college, right?”
“Most schools, yes. I’d like that. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I need a girlfriend along, keep me out of trouble.”
Rose gave her a smile she didn’t feel inside. “It’ll be fun.”
Sienna came back in. “Ready?”
“Not quite,” Rose replied, looking to Jackie. “I offered Dev a drink.”
“Good thinking. Call him in.”
“Aunt Jackie,” Sienna protested. “You know Daddy wouldn’t like that.”
“So? He’s not here, is he. Besides, this isn’t even his house.”
Rose stared at them. Dev was relegated to the porch due to one of Uncle Gino’s many and varied prejudices? “Dev is a decorated veteran. What could your father possibly hold against him?”
Sienna squirmed. “He’s too dark. You know how Daddy feels about the blacks. And the spics, of course. Well, just the Mexicans and Puerto Ricans really, but he lumps them all together. You know.”
Rose took a step back. “No, I don’t know.”
“And you shouldn’t, either,” Jackie agreed. “It’s stupid.”
Sienna bristled. “Hey. These days, you got the Mexican cartels and the gangs to deal with. Daddy’s not some redneck. He just gets worked up about people that threaten the Family. You know.”
“That’s so reassuring.”
Sienna missed Rose’s sarcasm and smiled, seeming relieved.
“Dev?” Jackie called through the kitchen. “Come in a minute.”
Seeing Dev politely down a glass of water under Sienna’s watchful eye, Rose marveled. How could she even call these people family? They all profited from crime, no matter how you dressed it up. She needed to hang on to the fact that Angelo was working, right now, to take down Gino. And that she was on his team, like Dev and Maji and Tom.
Maji bid Rey good-bye and left the Cuba Libre catering office via the back door. A waiting landscaper’s truck had its side panel open. She hopped in, shut the door behind her, and tapped twice on the screen behind the driver.
Arriving back at the estate with the last delivery of plantings for the driveway, Maji hopped out through the side panel doorway. She narrowly missed the aromatic pile of mixed compost and topsoil the landscapers were spreading in the newly created swaths of flower beds. Down toward Angelo’s house, she saw Jackie pointing and gesturing in an attempt to communicate with one of the day laborers. Maji jogged down to them. “Buenos días.” She looked to Jackie. “All good?”
“Ri!” Jackie looked around. “Where the hell have you—never mind. Can you tell him I don’t want anybody digging up this area here? We’re gonna rope it off for the party.”
Maji turned to the worker and explained, in Spanish. They went back and forth a moment, getting clear.
Jackie gave them both an awkward, “Gracias,” and walked with Maji toward her house. “Thought you were at the doctor’s.”
Maji looked down at her running clothes. “I’ve made a full recovery. So good that I went for a jog. Tom will be back soon, too.”
“Well, whatever Ang has you up to, I hope it was worth it. I know you can take care of yourself, but nobody’s bulletproof.”
Getting shot was the least of her worries, Maji thought. But that wouldn’t reassure Ang’s mother any. “Yes, ma’am.”
“And you’re done with this foolishness now.” It was a statement, not a question.
Maji let Jackie think what she wanted to. And also Rose, who seemed relieved to see her. Neither of them said anything about her outing as they prepped dinner, with a hand from Frank and then Tom, when he arrived. Maji didn’t think Rose would have brought it up, even if they’d been alone. Or what had happened last night, either. Rose was operating in what Maji thought of as her friendly reserved mode, the one she used with people like Iris. She wondered if Rose was mad at her, or just tired of the charade. Couldn’t blame her, either way.
Angelo asked to see them after supper, so she and Rose tromped down to the basement, along with Dev. Maji ignored his offer of a seat, and the other two took their cues from her. So he delivered his orders to Maji, standing. “Dev will get you out of here in the morning—early, like today. We’re running a test, might take all day.”
“What kind of test?” Rose asked.
Well, if he didn’t want questions, he shouldn’t have invited the civilian. Maji waited to hear the answer.
“Testing for a leak. Sirko knows too much, and we’ve ruled out bugs and tracking on the cars, even more drone surviellence. So it’s got to be a person. I have a theory, but I need to confirm.”
Maji crossed her arms. If Ang had just left the damned bugs in place, he’d know what Ricky was or wasn’t up to. Unless, she realized, he wasn’t talking about Ricky. Or really wasn’t sure. Shit.
“Someone here?” Rose said, her voice rising. “And you’re sending Ri out as bait?”
Angelo frowned. “’Course not. She’s going the safest place possible, while we check whether Sirko sends somebody to the places she might be.”
Back to the dojo, Maji thought. A last day of camp. So that’s why Rose was here. “Is it really safe enough to give Rose the option?” she asked him, in Arabic. She ignored the look she could feel Rose giving her, the frustration at being left out.
“We can cover for her, if you’re both out. And she’ll be as safe as you at the dojo, right?”
“It’s the getting there and back that makes me sweat,” Maji replied.
“Leave that to your team,” Angelo answered in English. “So, Rose, one last day at the dojo. Yes or no?”
Rose looked from him to Maji, and back. “I’d love the chance to say good-bye to the girls. But I can forgo that, if it will put Ri in any extra danger.”
Angelo smiled broadly. “Go up with Dev, check out the clothes you’ll need in the morning. And you…” He turned his gaze back to Maji. “Next time you joke about marrying her, you better be prepared to make good on it.” No one laughed. “Stay behind a minute.”
Maji waited until the door at the top of the stairs closed. If another shoe was about to drop, at least only Tom and Dev would hear it with her. “What?”
He touched his transmitter and motioned her to do the same. She switched hers to listen-only. “Tom met with Hannah today?” he asked.
“Yep.”
“Were you with them?”
“Nope.”
“I don’t suppose I should ask how the plan’s shaping up.”
“You asked me to handle it, I’m handling it. Tomorrow she’ll bring Dev up to speed. That’s all you need to know.”
“Dev? You brought him in, too?”
Fewer questions would suit Maji better. “You want this done right?” She gave him a second to acknowledge. “I need enough hands on deck, then. Hannah’s behind her screen, where she needs to stay. I’ll be out in the open. So I need both of them in the shadows.”
“Okay, I get the picture. Stop talking. When the plan’s set, tell me what I need to know.”
Maji was happy to stop. The less he knew, the more realistic his reactions would be, even improvised. “We’re on the same page.”
He switched his transmitter back on, and she did the same. “The AC’s back on. Tomorrow’s an early day, even f
or you. So get some decent rack time. Clear?”
Sure it was clear. Somehow they knew she’d started her night last night on watch in Rose’s room, and ended it in Carlo’s, alone. Even though her comm had been on alarm-only mode, no voices to disturb her sleep, and no transmitting except in case of emergency. She should be used to it by now. When you worked with operators, privacy was an illusion. Only your thoughts were really your own, if you were careful to keep them to yourself. “Who’s got my watch?”
“I do,” Tom’s voice said. “Me and Ang, until oh four hundred. Dev will roust you at four thirty, get you out of here before five.”
“Tomorrow’s not garbage day, is it?” She really didn’t want to be smuggled anywhere in a garbage truck ever again. Especially crammed in with Rose.
Angelo’s bark filled the basement and echoed in her comm. “Recycling. And don’t worry. We got you uniforms.”
“What about you?” she asked him. “Even a ghoul like you needs sleep.”
He squinted at her. “Now who’s in whose lane, babe? For your information, I’m ninety-nine percent done. And I can’t finish up until I’ve got some privacy, anyhow.”
So he’d sleep when he could, and complete the program when Sander was back in the city. “All clear. I’ll be in my room.”
Chapter Thirty-one
When Hannah tapped her, Maji immediately bowed out and followed her into the hallway.
“Angelo’s test is working. I’ve called around to the other dojos and self-defense classes in the area, and three have reported back so far. Two men dressed as military police are looking for you. They have photos of both you and Rose.”
Maji spent all of ten seconds weighing the choices—try to get home, knowing the estate would be watched and they might be intercepted on the way, or wait and see if these guys showed up. The first was risky, but the second put the kids in danger, as well as themselves. And Bubbles. And Hannah. “We should go.”
“I think not. We have your transport home arranged. Dashing out is unwarranted.”
