Man Law

by Adrienne Giordano

  Lynx stayed silent.

  “Because if you are,” he said, “I could call back. You getting laid is a momentous occasion.”

  “Fuck you. Is there a reason for this call, or is it just to harass me about my lack of a social life?”

  Good old, Lynx. So predictable.

  “You’re crabby when you wake up.”

  Tiny laughed out loud. “You are such an asshole.”

  Vic smiled.

  “What the hell do you want?” Lynx hollered.

  Yep. Lynx now had all pistons firing. Just where Vic needed him to be.

  “I got a hot one for you, and I don’t mean a woman. Although—never mind, you’re not in the mood.”

  “You might be bigger than me, but I could still hurt you. I need to be up in a few hours. Can we get on with this?”

  “You got a pen handy?”

  He waited through the rustle of sheets and a drawer shutting. “Go,” Lynx said, and Vic read off the address.

  “What’s the deal?” Lynx asked.

  “Get a warrant and check out the second bedroom by the card table. There’s a subfloor. Also, go five or six boards to the left. There’s a present waiting for you.”

  “Does this have something to do with that Conlin guy you asked me about?”

  “It’s his house.”

  “How big is this?” Lynx sounded intrigued.

  “I’m not sure. I told you what I know. I think it’s worth you having some field guys check it out.”

  Tiny turned on Lake Shore Drive and Vic opened his window a bit, sucked in the clean moist air, hoping to rid himself of the layer of fifth. He’d still need a shower.

  “How do you know about this?”

  “I’m clairvoyant?”

  Lynx laughed. A sneak and peek was nothing innovative, but Vic knew Lynx needed to cover his ass by asking. “You didn’t screw this up before we even get in there, did you?”

  “Not me, pal. I was thinking about doing an inventory on his trash, but decided not to risk it. The place is exactly the way Conlin left it.”

  “I’ll get a hold of somebody at the FBI. We’ll start with the trash and keep an eye on him for a few days. Maybe we’ll get enough to secure a warrant. I’ll let you know.”

  “Trust me,” Vic said, “you need to get that warrant.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Man Law: Always go for the sneak attack.

  The numbers on the spreadsheet swam together, making no sense. Gina swiveled from her computer and spotted Angie, the department secretary, carrying an overflowing vase of roses. A CD player buried under file folders played Garth Brooks on low volume, and Gina hummed along.

  “Looks like Becca is getting flowers again,” she said to Martha, who glanced up.

  “Ooh, aren’t they beautiful. Orange roses. That man broke the bank this time.”

  Gina went back to the blasted spreadsheet. “Lucky girl.”

  She didn’t have time to be jealous. Monday of a payroll week and she couldn’t figure out why a mail clerk suddenly got a thirty-thousand-dollar raise.

  Angie placed the vase on the three-drawer filing cabinet behind Gina’s chair. “Someone has an admirer.”

  Spinning her chair, Gina gawked at the flowers. “Me?”

  “Yep.”

  A smile bloomed inside her. She hadn’t been sent flowers since Danny died. Longer than that really. And these flowers, their fiery orange color as deep as a western sunset, were exceptional.

  “Are you holding out on me?” Martha asked, coming over and sniffing the flowers. “Who are they from?”

  Gina reached for the card. She didn’t dare hope they were from Vic. He was definitely not the flowers type. She opened it. Thanks for a great weekend. Love, Vic.

  Still holding the card she put her hands over her eyes. Relief bubbled inside her because she would have been disappointed had they been from anyone else. The man continually surprised her. He’d actually taken the time to order her flowers. Magnificent ones to boot.

  “Well?” Martha asked, giggling at her reaction.

  She couldn’t tell her. They were good friends, but telling anyone would have the entire office gossiping about her and Wonder Butt.

  “They’re from a friend. I helped him with a problem.”

  “Uh-huh. Must have been some problem.”

  “Must have been.” She smiled and stuck her nose into the flowers.

  “I know you’re fibbing, but that’s okay. I have a feeling I know who sent them. A certain vice president has been wandering through a lot more than usual.”

  “Behave,” she said, neither confirming nor denying her cubemate’s suspicions.

  With a shrug, Martha went back to her desk. “I’m glad you’re happy. Whoever they’re from.” Gina had no doubt she meant it.

  Sticking the card into her pocket and away from prying eyes, she headed up to the executive offices.

  Flowers. Unbelievable. Maybe there was hope for the man yet.

  Vic sat back in his chair, feet on his desk, on speakerphone with some of the guys in Afghanistan, when Gina strode through the door. The sexy spike heels and tight black skirt didn’t slow her down any. And what a skirt it was. Good Lord, she had miraculous curves.

  She sped around the desk, grabbed his face in both hands and laid a smoking hot kiss on him that curled his toes. Well, okay. He could deal with this. At least he wasn’t in trouble again.

  He backed away and held his breath. Looking into those big brown eyes made him want to take a chance. To let her inside his emotional prison. The thought scared the shit out of him, and his chest squeezed. He let the breath out.

  “Uh, guys,” he said, “hold on a minute.”

  With jittery fingers, he hit the hold button and smiled at her. “Good morning to you too. What was that for?”

  She pulled a card out of her pocket and waved it at him. “You know.”

  The flowers. How ’bout that service?

  She leaned over, kissed him again, and he got a whiff of the lemon shampoo she used. She had to stop kissing him in his office. He didn’t want anyone gossiping about her. He couldn’t give a shit what they said about him, but not Gina.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I love them. What a wonderful surprise.”

  “I went with the orange. Red seemed too ordinary. The lady at the shop said they’re called Firestorm roses.” He shrugged, ran his hand over her hip. “For some reason they reminded me of you.”

  And he was damned proud he’d gone that way. Any schmo could send red roses.

  “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

  He laughed. “You should.”

  “You actually went to the store? You didn’t call?”

  “I wanted to pick them out myself.”

  And he was still wondering what the hell was up with that. Shocking enough he thought to send the flowers, never mind going to the store and picking them out. He should get double on the sex scorecard for that move.

  The phone beeped. Oh, shit. He leaned forward, hit the button. “You still there?”

  “Yeah. You jerking off or what?”

  Gina’s eyes went wider than bowling balls.

  “Hey,” Vic yelled into the phone. “There’s a woman in my office.”

  “Oh, sorry,” came the reply with some background laughter.

  He shook his head. “Hold on, you imbecile.” He hit the button again and tried not to laugh. “I’m sorry,” he said to Gina. “My guys aren’t housebroken yet.”

  She waved it off. “It’s all right. Sorry I interrupted. I just wanted to say thanks. For everything.”

  Smiling, he said, “Anytime, darl—uh—anytime.” Caught himself. He swore he’d never call her darlin’ again.

  “You’re taking us to Jake’s baseball practice tonight, right?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll be by around six. Tiny’s coming too.”

  “Okay. If you want, I’ll save you some dinner.”

  A home-cooked meal?
Again? This woman just might be perfect.

  Before she got out the door, she turned back to him. “You know you’ve brought me back to life, don’t you?”

  Uh-oh. Getting into emotional territory here. The dread slithered around him. He stared at her a minute, his throat closing with every passing second. Breathe.

  “You weren’t dead,” Vic said, because the idea of Gina dead became too much for him. “You were hibernating. And you’re welcome.”

  The phone beeped again.

  “Get back to work,” she said. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  Oh, he’d see her, all right.

  “Hey,” Vic came through Gina’s back door and found her in a pair of cutoff shorts and a snug T-shirt, scrubbing the hell out of a pot.

  She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “You’re early.”

  “I stopped home to change and came right over.”

  “You hungry?”

  “Oh, yeah. I want that meal you promised me.”

  He kept telling himself that’s why he left the office early and rushed over here.

  “I have meat loaf, mashed potatoes and peas on a plate in the fridge.” She shut the faucet and grabbed a towel. “I just have to warm it.”

  “I got it. You need help cleaning up?”

  “No, but thanks. This is a solitary thing for me.”

  He stuck the dish in the microwave and, through the doorway, spotted Lily sitting at the dining room table. “Hey, Lil. What’s happening, sweet pea?”

  “Hi, Vic. Doing my spelling words.”

  He made a face at Gina. “Spelling? What’s that about? It’s summer.”

  Gina grabbed the dirty plates off the table. “She’s behind in spelling, so I got her some workbooks to do over the summer.”

  Yowzer. Poor kid.

  “Where are the boys?”

  “Jake’s getting ready for practice and Matt’s at the movies. Roy went with him.”

  The microwave dinged. Food was ready. Using a potholder, Vic pulled the plate, but the kitchen table was cluttered with leftover dinner dishes. “Where do you want me to eat?”

  “Take it in the dining room so I can finish in here.”

  He sat next to Lily at the end of the dining room table. “I got thrown out of the kitchen, Lil.”

  She shrugged one bony shoulder. “Me too. Mama doesn’t like us in there when she’s cleaning. She needs room. Do you want to help me? You could read me my words.”

  He popped a forkful of meat loaf in his mouth, savored the exploding flavor. Wow. That was good. And real mashed potatoes. Not from the box. Heaven.

  “Sure,” he said, swallowing the bite of food. “What have you got?”

  She handed over the book and pointed. “Just read me these words.”

  “Okay. First word is been.”

  “B-e-e-n.”

  “Good job. Next word is meant.”

  “Meant?” she asked.

  “Yep.”

  She grabbed her pencil with the big strawberry eraser on it—again with the strawberries? This kid was obsessed—and wrote something down.

  “I got it,” she said. “M-e-n-t.”

  Ooh, so close.

  “You left out a letter.”

  She studied the paper and shook her head. “How? M-e-n-t. I wrote it out. Men with a T on the end.”

  “Well, that’s the way it sounds, but the A is silent.”

  Her squinty-eyed glare nearly impaled him. “There’s an A in meant?”

  “Yep.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said, sounding so much like her mother with that clipped tone.

  Vic patted her hand. “It’s M-e-a-n-t, but it’s a hard word. Kind of a trick question.” He waved his hand. “Let’s skip it.”

  A minute later Gina coughed—loudly—from the kitchen doorway and gave him the same look Lily had given him. “Can I see you a minute?”

  Not waiting for a response, she went back into the kitchen. Vic frowned. This can’t be good.

  “I think you’re in trouble,” Lily said.

  He held out his hands. “What did I do?”

  “I don’t know, but you’d better get in there or it’ll be worse.”

  He laughed. He couldn’t help it. She made him smile in ways he never thought possible. He tugged on one of her springy curls. “If I’m not back in two minutes, come save me.”

  “What’s up?” Vic asked, standing beside her at the sink.

  Gina shut the water, wiped her hands on a dish towel and folded her arms. Oh, she’d tell him what was up.

  “What are you doing?” She kept her voice low so Miss Big Ears in the other room wouldn’t hear.

  “I’m helping Lily while I eat. Why?”

  “By telling her it’s a trick question? Are you out of your mind?”

  “It’s a tough word,” he griped.

  She put her finger to her lips to quiet him down. “Of course it’s tough. She has to learn. Do you have any idea the problems you could cause me?”

  His blank stare gave Gina her answer. She rubbed her fingers over her forehead. “How would you know? You don’t have children whose minds work overtime trying to figure out how to get out of schoolwork.”

  “Obviously.”

  “From now on,” she said, “every time she gets stuck she’ll say ‘it’s a trick question. I can skip it.’ Then she’ll go to school, tell her teacher it’s a trick question and she skipped it. The teacher will call me and I’ll have to explain it.”

  “Oh. Didn’t think of that”

  She blew out a breath. “It’s okay. Being around kids is like walking through a minefield.”

  “Yeah, no shit.”

  With stooped shoulders, he started back toward the dining room. Shoot. She’d been hard on him when all he wanted was to help her.

  “Vic?” He angled back and she offered a genuine smile. “Thank you for helping. I do appreciate it.”

  His trademark crooked smile flashed and the tension melted away. “No problem.”

  “How’d it go?” Lily asked when he returned to the dining room.

  Laughter bubbled in Gina’s throat. She slapped at the faucet, until the water hit full blast, hoping they wouldn’t hear her giggling.

  “We’re good, Lil. Just grown-up stuff.”

  “I’m glad,” Lily said and then, “Are you going to be my daddy?”

  Gina’s body stiffened. Time stopped and the whooshing in her ears forced her to grab the edge of the sink for support.

  “Lileee,” Gina screamed, leaving the faucet running while she sprinted to the doorway. The pair of them were something else tonight.

  Vic held up his hand. “We’re fine. Go back to the dishes.”

  Forget it, pal. “Lily, you can’t ask questions like that.”

  Vic, his back to Lily, stared at her with a wide-eyed, give-me-a-break face. “Gina, please. We’re talking here.”

  “I was only asking, Mama.”

  “But—” she said.

  Vic cleared his throat and nodded her back to the kitchen. He wanted to try to handle this one? She had to give him credit for it. Considering she’d just yelled at him about the homework.

  Why did she ever teach her children to be so honest?

  “Lil,” he said, “your mom and I are dating. Do you know what that means?”

  “Sort of like when two people go places together?”

  Oh, Lord. Gina could not believe she was letting Vic, of all people, handle this situation. If she hadn’t been paralyzed by her mortification, she’d have done it herself.

  “You got it, squirt. Just because we’re dating doesn’t mean we’ll get married. It doesn’t mean we won’t. We’re getting to know each other, and we don’t know what’s going to happen. Does that make sense?”

  Gina smiled. Well, well, he handled that just fine.

  “I guess so,” Lily said. “But I think it would be cool to have you as my dad. Then you could help me with my words like Rachel’s dad does.” />
  Her body turned to stone. Don’t get upset. But her knees clearly didn’t hear the order, because they wobbled and she shifted her weight against the counter. How the hell could she not get upset? Her daughter wanted a dad to help her with homework. Lily’s pain struck Gina and she threw her hand over her mouth to smother a painful groan. The scream needed to come, but not here. Not now.

  Every child deserved a dad to love her and spend time with her. Lily had it once. She deserved it now. Gina squeezed her eyes shut knowing she was seconds away from a full-blown tear fest.

  “You know what, Lil? I don’t know if I’m gonna be your dad or not, but I can still help you with your words. You call me up and I’ll come over. How’s that?”

  That tore it. Gina shoved the dish towel to her face and let it absorb the sobs. The insane shattering, the coming apart bone by bone, that came when she allowed herself to wallow in what could have been, rocked her body.

  “That sounds good,” Lily said. “One other thing.”

  Vic laughed. “What’s that?”

  “How do you think you’d be at Daddy-Daughter Olympics? They have it every fall and I couldn’t do it last year. That fat-face Misty Franklin teased me about it.”

  Gina tensed again. Misty Franklin. That little witch. No wonder. Considering her bitch of a mother constantly spurned Gina because she was a single working mother. It didn’t matter to Dora Franklin that Danny had died rescuing three people from a burning building. Gina swatted at the tumbling tears.

  “Daddy-Daughter Olympics?” Vic asked, sounding like he would actually consider it. But then, being a testosterone-loaded, competitive male, of course he would. “I think I’d do pretty darn well with that.”

  “That would be awesome,” Lily squealed.

  “Okay, then. We’ll give Misty Franklin something to talk about. I gotta heat up my meat loaf again. Be right back.”

  No. He was coming in here. Gina bent over the sink, splashed water on her face to clear the subsiding tears.

  “Wait,” she yelled, spinning toward the door and sucking in a breath. “I’ll do it for you in a second. Just let me finish up in here.”