Misha was the lovable black sheep of the family. Her motto in life was, If it feels good, do it. Even if it felt good at three in the morning, and even if that meant waking the entire neighborhood in the process, but despite her devil-may-care attitude, she was loyal to a fault and protective of her friends.
Lilo glanced over Misha’s shoulder to where the family pretended not to listen from their kitchen table. They all sat around a pine round table, playing a game of cards. Canasta if Lilo’s memory served correct. Vooyek had opened the vodka and was pouring little shot glasses for everyone.
“Come and sit on the couch.” Misha sat on the two seater floral monstrosity and patted the space next to her.
The rest of the room was decorated in old seventies decor. Wooden bowls and vases were on the mantle, and macrame tapestries hung on the walls. The cream and brown wallpaper behind the macrame peeled a little, but still looked very retro chic. A fire crackled in the fireplace with a glossy wooden mantle that held portraits of the family, plus one big one of Misha’s deceased mother at the center, next to a golden Madonna—the religious kind, not the pop star kind. It all smelled a little musty, but homey and warm. In fact, so warm and safe that when Lilo was stuck in that cold, desolate alley South-Side, she couldn’t think of a nicer place to be—even if it was across the bridge and onto the mainland.
Lilo sat, feeling a little foolish that she’d come all that way.
“I… uh.”
Misha caught the tears in Lilo’s eyes. “Siostra, whatever it is, you can tell me.”
Hearing Misha call her sister, was the tipping point. An ache as big as a chasm grew in her chest as she yearned for the big family she knew she’d never have. Not with her father and mother, not with any man. They were all lost causes.
At least she had friends.
Vooyek came in at that moment with three vodka shots on a tray. “Here we go. I think we all need the liquid courage tonight, yes?”
Along with Vooyek and Misha, Lilo took a shooter.
“Na Zdrowie.” Vooyek chinked his crystal glass shooter against theirs and then downed his drink.
Misha wiggled her eyebrows at Lilo and did the same. The burn of the liquid went straight to Lilo’s heart and spread outward. He was right. It was some liquid courage.
Lilo spent the next twenty minutes pouring her heart out to her friend. She told her about her father, Donnie and their break up, meeting Griffin, the Deadly Seven, the incident in the alley with Greed… all of it! Misha informed her about the never ending harassment their family business was suffering under the hands of a street gang. It had been hard for Misha. She had a yoga business and an apartment in the city, and she wasn’t the kind of girl to get bogged down, but having to cancel her classes to help in the family restaurant had taken a hit on her income. She was considering supplementing it by working in a Russian bar at night time.
A couple of shots, a few tears, and a few laughs later, Lilo found herself at the family kitchen table, dealing herself into the game of Canasta—because it felt good.
What didn’t feel good was the hangover the next morning, and when the eternally chirpy Misha woke her at dawn to drag her onto her balcony to do her yoga sun-salutations, Lilo almost threw her pillow in her face. But at least she was with family, and she’d come away from it all thinking that she wasn’t alone.
When Lilo arrived at work the next morning, she was surprised to find Griffin leaning his hip against the partition that separated her desk from Bev’s. She halted at the hallway before entering the main office area so she could watch from a distance. He spoke with Candy and Bev, who in turn, batted their eyelashes at him.
Was Candy leaning into him?
Was she rubbing him on the shoulder?
Lilo smirked at Candy as Griffin flinched awkwardly from her touch and had some stupid satisfaction that she knew Griffin better than Candy. Ridiculous. What did she care? She’d woken up rejuvenated and refreshed—she wasn’t alone. But in her heart, she knew the company she received from a friend just wasn’t the same as a romantic partner.
Candy leaned in some more. Couldn’t that girl take a hint?
Lilo left her hiding spot and strode over.
“Morning,” she said and dumped her bag on her desk.
For a quick second, she had the impression of the box with her father’s ear on there and froze, eyes glued to the now vacant spot.
It was fine. Her father was in prison. Alive.
Her mother was… who the hell knew?
And, she’d been dying to go through the shots from her spy phone to see if anything of value had been captured. Fat chance of doing that with everyone standing around.
“Lilo.” Griffin’s smooth voice was almost next to her ear as he put his steaming hot coffee mug on her desk, right in her line of sight. Curls of white steam rose from the liquid. “This is for you.”
She turned to him, frowning. “You brought me a coffee. Why?”
“I-ah…” He glanced over at Candy and Bev who returned to their desks and shuffled around, collecting themselves before they started work. If he was looking for privacy, he wouldn’t get it. This was the Cardinal Copy. Everything was newsworthy here, especially the gossip.
“It was an excuse to see you,” he admitted.
Her co-workers’ paper shuffling stopped.
Oh, this was getting awkward. Lilo took her coat off and sat. “And why would you need an excuse to see me?”
She started her computer, failing dreadfully at keeping her eyes glued to the screen and not on him. She was still irked at the way he’d ordered her around, and after her situation with Greed, she’d come to realize that she needed time apart from men to sort herself out. The past week had turned her life upside down. It was a life that she’d carefully constructed the way she liked. She’d gotten herself away from her toxic parents, and she’d begun to build herself a career. Somehow, she’d gone from being In-Charge-Lilo to a Give-Me-Orders-Lilo. Donnie had messed with her brain. This past week, her parents had messed with her, and now Griffin was everywhere too. It was all too much. She needed fewer complications in her life, not more.
“I wanted to make sure you were safe,” he said.
It was an odd thing to say if he’d thought she’d gone home last night instead of the rendezvous with the kidnappers. She glanced up at him and wished she hadn’t.
The look in his eyes cut her down. It was hope. Maybe humility. Maybe something else. All she knew was that she got the impression he was truly concerned about her.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“I heard about the incident with your father in the South-Side.”
“Oh?”
“Liza told me. Her unit were among the first responders. She said she saw you there giving your statement and asked an officer to take you to the station. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay, and that”—he rubbed his neck—“ah… that you weren’t hurt in the exchange and I’m sorry. About your father, that is.”
She cast a wary eye at him. “You’re not angry that I lied to you about going?”
“I can’t change the past, and I understand why you wanted to go. It was wrong of me to make demands of you.” He took a deep breath. “I’m just glad you got home okay.”
“Thank you.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t do much in the end.”
Not sure how to respond to that, she gave him a small smile and turned back to her screen. When she noticed he hadn’t moved, she turned back to him. “Was there something else you need?”
He flinched. He fidgeted at his side, and to cover it, he smoothed his tie. He really didn’t look comfortable.
“Griffin?”
“Would you like to go to Hell with me this weekend?”
“Pardon?”
“That didn’t come out right. I meant the nightclub Hell. For the grand opening. Not the real hell.”
Oh. She blinked at him while she tried to understand. Was he asking her on a date? How did she
feel about that? She didn’t know.
On one hand, she had literally just sworn off men.
On the other hand, maybe she’d been overreacting where he was concerned. He brought her coffee, he apologized for his demanding behavior, and he seemed genuinely concerned for her.
But did that excuse him? Did that mean he wasn’t going to do it again?
“I’m already going,” she ended up saying.
“You are?”
“Yes, Grace invited me and another friend.”
“Oh. Okay. I suppose I will see you there.”
She turned her eyes back to her screen and kept them there as he left. When he was gone, she took a sip of the coffee he’d left. It was made just the way she liked it. Two sugars and cream.
Bev’s blue hair popped up over the partition. “Hun, what the hell was that?”
Lilo took another sip and avoided her friend’s eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Now who’s the shmendrik.” Bev came around to her side of the cubicle and perched her yoga pant bottom on Lilo’s desk. “There’s something you’re not telling me. Spill.”
“Um.”
“The uber hot geek god just asked you out, and you shut him down. Call me crazy, but wasn’t that exactly what you wanted just a few days ago?”
Lilo sighed into her coffee, now cupped between her hands. “I know but after spending some time with him, I didn’t like the way he ordered me around.”
Bev was one of the few people, apart from Grace and Misha, who knew the extent of her toxic relationship with Donnie. So when Lilo mentioned Griffin’s bossiness, she knew exactly why it ruffled her.
“What did he do?” Bev asked.
“He forbade me to go to the kidnapping exchange.”
Bev arched a brow at Lilo. “And?”
“I went anyway.”
“So, you’re telling me you got upset because the man asked you not to go and jump into danger when only that morning, he saw your life threatened. And he was shot himself, mind you.”
Lilo dragged her lip through her teeth. “Well, when you say it like that…”
“Is it possible you’re overacting a little?”
She frowned at her friend who’d echoed her earlier thoughts. Bev had never been so harsh with her before. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am, hun, I am. It’s just that I don’t want to see you blow off a potentially good relationship because of a lost cause like Donnie. I don’t want you to think that all men are like that.”
“Griffin ordered me not to go.” Lilo knew how she felt, and she hadn’t liked it.
“For good reason. I tried to order you not to go too, and that was because I love you and I don’t want to see you hurt. And if the Deadly Seven hadn’t turned up, you would have been hurt, right? You’d be in a body bag.” Bev pushed away from Lilo’s desk. “All I’m saying is that he’s not Donnie. I’ve seen enough of him to know that. Maybe you should give him another chance and get to know him better.”
A few hours later, Lilo was sitting in Fred’s office, going over the proof of the article she’d just written. Amazingly, she’d discovered the best photographs on her spy-phone. Not only had she caught a dramatic shot of the two Greeds fighting, but she’d nabbed a few blurry night shots of members of the Deadly Seven after she’d left—after the real Greed had stolen her from the scene. All the members were in their crime-fighting costumes, except one woman. She wore a generic black hood and sweat pants, but still had a mask over her mouth and nose. You couldn’t tell who she was and Lilo hardly remembered seeing them in the chaos. The only reason Lilo knew she was a woman was because of her curvy body shape.
There was also a picture of Lilo’s father being taken away by the police.
Griffin hadn’t lied when he mentioned Liza being involved. She was the arresting officer which could be a good thing. She might agree to speak to Lilo about it and give an official statement. If Lilo hadn’t been in such a rush to leave after returning that night, she might have put her big girls pants on and worked the scene with the police. She might even have had a chance to see Liza there.
Something Griffin had said sparked in her mind. He said Liza had asked the officer to take her to the station. It was nice to think Griffin’s sister was looking out for Lilo.
“These are great shots, Lilo.” Fred held the printed photos from his face, squinting to see better. “You know I have to officially say that we don’t condone this kind of risky behavior to get a story, but off the books—well done.” He whistled through his teeth at some of the more violent photographs. “I’m amazed you came out of that unscathed.”
She bit her lip. The only reason she did was because of Greed. He’d gotten her out of there. She would be dead if he hadn’t turned up. “I’m very lucky,” she agreed.
“And this shot. Is it really two of them fighting against each other?”
“I have reason to believe that one of them is an imposter. You read my story, right?”
He looked at her over his glasses as if she were stupid.
“Sorry. Of course you did.”
“We can’t put opinions in there, you know that.”
She chewed on his words. He was right. Some of what she wrote was jumping to conclusions. She would have to go back and check over her words. But she wanted to paint the heroes in the best light that she could.
“Do you have any hard evidence that one of them was the imposter?”
“What about the fact that the fake one used a gun, and the Deadly Seven don’t normally use them?”
“But they have in the past.”
She slumped. That was true. A sighting a few months back showed a hostage situation on the freeway. Not much information had leaked out of that disturbance, but she knew the Deadly Seven were involved.
“What about the fact one of them tried to save me, the other one tried to kill me?”
He cocked his head, considering. “It’s all conjecture and one person’s eye witness account, but I’d approve that. Just keep it factual.”
“I just know someone is impersonating one of the Deadly Seven. I just know it.” She turned to Fred. “How do I write a story like that?”
“You’re a good journalist, Lilo, and you’ve got good instincts. If you feel there’s a story there, then keep following it. I think your eye witness account will be a very strong story. If you need to, get more facts. Do a follow up. Interview anyone else present there to see if they corroborate your story. Two eyewitness accounts saying the same thing are better than one. Put all of them together so it supports your claim. That’s how you do it.”
She accepted the draft paper back from him. “Thanks, Fred.”
“Now, do you want your name kept out of this?”
“No. I think I’m okay with it in there.”
“Good. Because writing it with a personal spin would be great. Include your history with your father and his business—but stick to the public facts.” He sat back and stared at the article. “It would be nice for people to see you don’t have to choose the life you’re born into. You’re a pillar of the city, Lilo. I hope you know that.”
She blushed furiously. “Thank you, Fred.”
“It’s a pleasure.” His expression flattened back to boss mode. “Please revise the article to remove anything regarded as opinion and have it back to me in time for the late edition.”
She got up to leave.
“Lilo?”
“Yes?”
He scratched the white scruff on his chin and looked at her with pained eyes. “Like I said, you have great instincts, and a nose for smelling out a story, but don’t let this job be everything. What you did last night was way beyond risky. You deserve a life, too.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
On the night of Hell’s grand opening, Griffin dressed in his favorite custom made Prussian Blue cotton-poplin shirt that fit snuggly, sleeves quarter rolled. Black pants, no belt. No tie, but he’d kept
his black-framed glasses and his Garmin watch. Nerves skittered in his stomach. There would be a lot of people there, a lot of noise, and of course, Lilo.
After she turned him down, he spent half a day in his office trying to come to terms with it. When he first met her, he wanted nothing to do with her. Now she wanted nothing to do with him. He hated it.
He’d watched Casablanca another two times and tried to understand what she loved about the movie, but each time, he came up with nothing. It was beyond his scope of understanding. It just seemed like a black and white movie about a war, a woman who cheated on her husband, and a man who liked to drink a lot.
Maybe he was reading too much into it. Maybe she just liked the way the actor looked.
When Griffin traveled in the Lazarus Building elevator, he activated the timer on his watch. Technically, he was going to Hell because his brother requested the presence of the entire family, not for Griffin’s own gain. But then again, Lilo would be there.
In the end, he turned the timer off.
The doors opened to the ground floor lobby with Heaven on one side, and Hell on the other. Because it was the Lazarus’s apartment private entrance, they constructed each side of the hallway out of two-way mirrors. They could see into the establishments, but the patrons couldn’t see into the lobby. Not that it helped much where Hell was concerned. The interior was dark with glowing red lights. There were a few people in there, but he couldn’t make out faces, only greedy sin-signatures.
Griffin exited the apartment lobby to the street.
Paparazzi blocked his path into Hell. He’d have to go around the photographers to where a red carpet led from the street curb to Hell’s gate. At the door, a big, burly bouncer stood guard. Griffin hadn’t met him yet, but he was vigilant and didn’t slouch. Along one side of the building was a bollard that separated the paparazzi from the red carpet, and on the other side of the building, a line a mile long held back the enthusiastic wannabe patrons, dressed in designer clothes and sparkly jewels. They wouldn’t get in. It was well known the event was invite only. Considering it was still officially winter for another few weeks, he didn’t know why they bothered, but then again, the irrational desires of the everyman were often misunderstood by him. If they wanted to shiver in the cold on the off chance of getting in, who was he to complain?
Greed Page 18
