by Gina LaManna
“Veronica.” Anthony raised an eyebrow. “And this is Clay’s latest…invention? Fetish? Friend?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” I reached for Anthony’s hand. “On a different note, what brings you around?”
“Just to say hi.”
I narrowed my eyes as I led Anthony to the bed and sat down. “I don’t believe you.”
Anthony fiddled with my comforter.
I laid my hand on his. “You’re not looking me in the eye, buddy. I can tell when you’re lying to me.”
“Only because I want you to know.” Anthony’s eyes flashed up at me, holding my gaze until I looked away first.
The moment reminded me of everything Anthony stood for; loyalty, security, and danger. I knew I couldn’t have one without the others, and I’d never try to change the man. At the same time, the glimpses of his more volatile side served to remind me that I didn’t fully know him at all. I hadn’t even scratched the surface of Anthony, of his past, his history, his origins.
I didn’t let go of Anthony’s hand, running light lines up and down the back of his arm, focusing on his dark skin, the softness of his arms compared to the roughness of his hands.
“Hey, look,” Anthony said, tipping my face upwards. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just meant that I’d never lie to you.”
I smiled. “Either that, or I’m just getting really good at reading you.”
“Maybe.”
“So, what brings you here?”
“What did Carlos want with you?”
“Carlos?” I feigned confusion at the name.
“Funny, Miss Lacey.” Anthony shook his head. “You’re smart enough to catch me in a lie, you can’t play dumb when I catch you in one.”
“We, hmm,” I paused. “Well, let’s start with what you know. What do you know?”
“I know that my boss crashed into my girlfriend’s car today.”
I winced. “It was an accident.”
“Carlos doesn’t have accidents.”
“How’d you find out, anyway?” I scrunched my nose. “Were you following me?”
Anthony’s face turned amused. “No.”
“What, are you psychic?”
“What do you think?” Anthony was toying with me.
“I think you are psychic.” I placed my hands on his shoulders and tried my best to keep a serious expression as I looked him in the eyes. “And you’re thinking that you’d rather kiss me than talk about this.”
“Well, I think that makes you psychic.” Anthony leaned in, his lips hovering just above mine. “But if I were psychic, I’d say you want to kiss me, as much as I want to kiss you.”
“Now that’s just confusing.” It’d been a few months since we’d started dating, but the butterflies hadn’t subsided in the least; if anything, I liked the guy more than ever.
Anthony lay me back on the bed, grasping my wrists in his hands and bringing them above my head. He teased me with kisses down my collar bone. “So, Miss Psychic. Do you like this?”
I nodded again, going into a mute, vegetative sort of state.
“How about this?” Anthony kissed a few more places.
I nodded.
“And here?” Anthony ran his fingers down my rib cage, sneaking them under my sweatshirt and sending shivers to my core.
I nodded.
“You can speak,” Anthony said. “It’s allowed.”
“Yeah.”
Anthony shook his head, lips parted in a smile. “And do you like this?” He magicked my shirt off in a minute, leaving me in a thin camisole.
I nodded, feeling like a bobblehead by this point. “Yep, that’s nice.”
“And this?” Anthony pulled one of the thin straps over my shoulder.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Good.” Anthony pulled me back into a sitting position, his eyes bright and playful. “Because I wasn’t planning on going further.”
At my disgruntled expression, he laughed.
“Sugar, I’d never use romance to get what I want from you. Why did Carlos crash into your car?”
“Dang, my distractions didn’t work?” I frowned. “I thought my kisses were decent.”
“Better than average.” He winked. “But I care first and foremost about your safety, and if your grandfather is after you – with his car – I want to know why. Because he’s my boss, and I’d hate to have to take sides.”
I sighed. “He’s not after me. He just needed to talk to me.”
“And the phone didn’t work because…?”
“Good question.”
“That’s why I’m asking it. Why the car crash?”
“Did you have the police watching me? A tracker on my car?” I scrutinized him. “Or were you following Carlos?”
“Sorry, I’m not giving out answers if you’re not.” Anthony gave a shake of his head.
“He needed a favor from me,” I hedged.
“I’m guessing an assignment.”
“Of sorts,” I said, debating how to explain the situation to Anthony without giving anything away. “It’s nothing. It’s small.”
“Small enough that Carlos wouldn’t mention it to me?”
“Yes,” I said. “Exactly.”
“I don’t believe you. What did he want?”
“Look, I can’t tell you.” I forced my gaze to meet Anthony’s. “Remember how you just said that you’d hate to have to pick sides?”
He gave a singular nod.
I crossed my arms. “Well, me too. Carlos wanted to talk about something in private, and he asked that I not tell anyone.”
“Business?”
“Anthony—” I exhaled a firm sigh. “I’m really sorry, but please don’t put me in this position. There are things you don’t tell me about your job, and I do my best to live with that. Can we please make it a two-way street?”
“I want to keep you safe.” His eyes darkened as he toyed with a strap on my camisole.
“I’ve never doubted that.” I ran a hand through Anthony’s hair, tucking a strand behind his ear. “If I feel afraid, scared, anything, I’ll let you know. But in the meantime, don’t make me pick between you and Carlos. He asked me to look into something that he says shouldn’t be dangerous. I can probably complete the task from the comfort of home.”
I didn’t mention I could do it from the comfort of Carlos’s home – the reason being that the traitor was supposedly internal – which meant he’d possibly be hanging around the estate premises. That tidbit of information could wait.
Anthony pursed his lips, surveying my face before shaking his head. “You are the most stubborn woman I know.”
I squinched my face. “Yeah, probably.”
“And you messed up my hair, didn’t you? I just got a haircut.” Anthony ran a hand through his hair.
I appreciated the change in subject and took it as a good sign. I didn’t doubt he’d step in if necessary, but that was fine by me. I’d take a strong, smart guy watching out for me anytime, even if it meant forfeiting a tiny piece of my privacy.
“I did want some advice, though,” I said, almost as an afterthought. “On my first solo assignment. Now, assuming that I can’t give away any details, or tell you what the assignment is about, or where it happened, or who’s involved – can I get your opinion on where to start?”
Anthony’s face broke out into a grin. “Hold on a second, I’m overloaded with information. Give me a second, and I’ll have the whole thing figured out.”
“Really?” My eyebrows shot up. “How – oh, you’re kidding.”
Anthony’s eyes were kind. “Yes, I’m joking. But if you’re looking for a place to start, I would recommend you start with the source.”
I rested my fingers against my lower lip in thought. “Yes, that’s a great idea.”
“It’s where I start every time. You never know what you’ll find at the scene of the crime.” Anthony shrugged. “Anything else? Do these boxes have anything to do with it?”
> I looked over to the stacks on the floor. “No, that’s something different.”
Anthony crossed his arms. “Something I don’t know about?”
A wave of exhaustion hit me just thinking about re-explaining everything. “That’s my mom’s old stuff, combined with a few photos that Nora had lying around. I don’t really want to talk about it right now, if that’s okay.”
“What are your plans for tonight?”
“What?” I looked up from the stack of papers in the corner.
“What do you think about ordering a pizza and watching that one movie you wanted to see?” Anthony’s eyes crinkled. “I took the night off.”
“Really? You’d watch a chick flick with me?”
“Only because I think it will earn me bonus points in other areas.”
I threw my arms around Anthony’s neck and planted a huge smacker on his cheeks. “Silly, you don’t need bonus points. But yes, you definitely get points if we get to watch my movie. And I’ll throw in a few extra, extra special bonus points if you make the pizza a large and add every topping possible.”
“Except anchovies.”
“Except anchovies.” I smiled. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”
“Anchovies?” Anthony wrinkled his nose. “No, but this sort of thing…” He reached over and yanked down the other strap of my camisole.
Laughter bubbled up inside, and Anthony scooped me up and threw me onto the bed, pausing over me as he kissed both of my cheeks. “I like this sort of thing.”
“Me too.” My smile beamed so brightly my cheeks hurt, and I was sure the glow could be seen from Mars.
“Good. Because I’m suddenly not hungry for pizza…”
Just like that, I completely forgot about pizza and a movie.
Chapter 6
“I was calling you all night,” Meg said, as soon as I picked up the phone the next morning. I was en route to Carlos’s estate. “What the heck were you doing?”
“Investigating.”
“What, Anthony’s butt?”
I parked my Lumina outside of Carlos’s house, leaning my head against the seat and closing my eyes. “No, I was looking through—”
“Anthony’s abs?” Meg interrupted. “Girl, I don’t blame you, I do plenty of investigatin’ of various men myself. But I still manage to give you a call afterwards.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t see that you’d called me.”
“Not even one of the sixty-four times?” Meg asked.
“It was eighty-eight according to my call logs, but yes, my phone was on silent…meaning I didn’t hear any of them.”
“That’s a problem.”
“Is it?” I asked. “I was going to call you today.”
I had meant to call her today. Last night I’d fallen asleep early, Anthony’s arms still wrapped around me. I’d forgotten about the movie, the pizza, my phone…most of the outside world in general.
This morning I’d received all eighty-eight of Meg’s missed calls, sixteen of her messages, and a notification that my phone was full. I’d woken early when Anthony tried to slip out of bed all sneaky-like. He’d pressed a kiss to my neck and whispered that he had to get going.
One of the side effects of falling asleep at nine p.m. was that by seven this morning, I was rarin’ to go. Unable to fall back asleep, I’d called the only other person besides Anthony I knew would be awake. My grandmother. I figured if I played my cards right, I could combine breakfast and fresh coffee with a bit more investigating. That’s called killin’ a few birds with one stone.
“Yeah, I don’t believe you,” Meg said.
“I was going to call you after I had breakfast! It’s not even eight o’clock yet. I don’t remember the last time you woke up this early. You work ’til five a.m., I expect you to sleep ’til noon.”
“Not when Halloween’s right around the corner, duh! Your Aladdin costume isn’t gonna make itself. This bar’s not gonna put up decorations without me. It’s my favorite holiday, it’s like waking up on Christmas morning. Get excited, Lacey!”
“I am thrilled.” I tried my best to stifle a yawn. Maybe I wasn’t as awake as I thought.
“I heard that yawn.”
“Wasn’t a yawn, I was thinking.”
“You don’t think before you talk, Lacey, so don’t try to pull the wool over my nostrils.”
“It’s ‘pull the wool over my eyes’,” I corrected.
“I don’t want wool up my nose or in my face at all,” Meg said. “So we can agree to disagree.”
“We’re not disagreeing.”
“Stop arguing, Lacey.”
I gave up. “Fine. What did you call for last night?”
“I went to the hospital.”
I jolted upwards, a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. “What? Meg, are you okay? What’s wrong? I’m so sorry, I can’t believe…why didn’t you say so in one of your messages? Jeesh, I feel horrible. Are you okay?”
“I’m just kidding,” Meg sighed. “I only said that to teach you a lesson about answering my phone calls.”
“Meg, that’s not a funny joke.”
“It’s not supposed to be a joke,” Meg said, her voice sad. “I just wanted to talk to you is all. Mostly about the floor plan for the Haunted House on Friday. It’s two days away now.”
I closed my eyes and did some deep breathing, trying not to hyperventilate. “Don’t scare me like that.”
“You don’t scare me like that. Maybe I was worried about you. Ever think of that?”
I paused. No, I hadn’t. “Look I’m sorry, I should have texted or called you back. I didn’t hear your calls and that’s a fact, and then I fell asleep before I could look at my phone. I didn’t even change out of my clothes or brush my teeth, I just conked out.”
“Apology accepted on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“Swing by the bar in five minutes so I can show you the floor plan.”
“Now? I’m on my way to Nora’s.”
“Can I come?”
I hesitated a second too long. It wasn’t that I didn’t want her there, it was just that Carlos had asked me to keep this assignment quiet. And since I was going to be poking around at the source as Anthony had suggested, asking questions, digging up things of the clandestine nature, it would be hard to explain all of it to Meg without giving important details away.
“Never mind, I understand a rejection when I hear one.” Meg’s tone was flat. “I’ve given plenty in my day, and that’s what I call the how do I say no without saying no rejection.”
“Meg—”
“You’re in luck. I’m smart enough to understand.”
“Let me swing by tonight,” I said. “I have a few things to take care of this morning. Please, can I stop by later?”
“Really?” Meg’s voice verged on hopeful.
“Yes, of course.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Don’t sound so surprised.” I opened the car door and began walking towards the mansion. “It was an accident I didn’t see your phone calls last night. I wasn’t ignoring you.”
“I’ll have a drink waiting for you tonight.” Meg’s voice filled with excitement.
“Thank you, Meg. I’m sorry, again. See you later.”
“Whatcha doing at Nora’s? I hope you’re not planning the Haunted House without me.”
“No, of course not.” I lapsed into silence, hoping that explanation would be enough.
It wasn’t.
“So then what are you doing?”
I sighed. “I can’t talk about it. Carlos gave me an assignment.”
“But you always tell me secrets, whether they’re yours to tell, or not.”
“This one is different.”
Meg waited a beat. “Oh.”
“Meg, please try to understand. Carlos specifically asked me not to say anything to anyone.” I walked towards the front door, silently hating the secrecy clause of my latest job. So far, it’d
only caused problems.
“I see.”
“No, you don’t,” I said, my voice pleading. “I can’t say anything to anyone. Not even Anthony.”
“Not even Anthony?” The skepticism level in Meg’s voice turned up to high.
“Not even him. I didn’t say a thing to him, I promise. In fact, you know more than he does, since you were in the car with me yesterday. Okay?”
“Okay, that makes me feel better. So that drink tonight, we’re still on?”
“Of course.”
Meg hung up just as I reached the front door. Harold opened it wide, hugged me tight, and directed me to the kitchen.
“Your grandmother was just tickled pink you invited yourself over for breakfast. It’s been awhile since she cooked breakfast food.” Harold cleared his throat, the sound causing my blood to chill. “If you know what I mean.”
I paused, halfway down the hall. “What did she cook?”
“Pancakes.” Harold forced a smile. “I saved you plenty of them.”
I could tell from Harold’s horrified expression that he hadn’t done me any favors. I shook my head. “I’m very disappointed in you, Harold.”
He cringed. “The chocolate chip ones are especially good.”
I took his warning tone as a cue, making a mental note to stay away from anything resembling chocolate chips. “That’s a cheap shot, Harold. How dare you make me eat my share and yours?”
“You invited yourself over for breakfast.” He shook his head. “I’m only trying to survive the consequences.”
I took a closer look at the butler, now seeing his face pinched in discomfort, his body hunched over, a hand on his stomach. He bore the pain well, with a polite smile plastered on his face.
“I thought Nora and Carlos usually order pastries from the bistro across the street from the laundromat.” I took a step closer, one eyebrow raised.
“They do. Several years ago Carlos became ‘allergic’ to Nora’s pancakes, waffles, cereal, and toast. Essentially, all breakfast foods.” A wave that looked like nausea flicked across Harold’s face. “But today was a special occasion because of your presence, and Nora decided to cook for the whole house.”
“Oh, no…”
“Oh, yes.”
