by Eva Sloan
Perfect.
“I’d like you to set me up one of those arranged marriages. You know, where I marry a rich, illegal alien for a big-fat-hefty sum of money...and then six months later we get divorced.”
She could literally see the gears twirling around in Luvici’s head. There might just be more than a hamster on an exercise wheel in there...
“That’s something I don’t usually delve into.”
“But you have some experience in the matter?” Lucy was suddenly sitting on the edge of her seat. She could just make out the sparkling diamond at the end of the tunnel. “That’s something you could set up for me?”
Luvici nodded. “Sure,” he said, reaching for the cigarette he’d set down when they started talking. It had burned out already. He picked up his pack and tapped out another one. His hands were still shaking as he sparked it up, but after one enormous inhalation a sort of calm settled around him.
“I just don’t think you realize all that goes into one of these arrangements.”
Pregnant pause. She had to prompt Luvici to continue. “As in?”
“Well, for starters, the Immigration Department is a real bitch about this sort of thing anymore. They’ll put you through the ringer. They’ll investigate every aspect of you and your groom’s lives, including family, friends, and work acquaintances.”
The family thing struck a fairly dissident chord for Lucy. How on earth would she explain this to her grandmother? Gram will kill me...
“And the penalty for trying to pull this over on the US Government and failing is steep. Five years imprisonment and a fine…” He let that hang in the air for a moment. Lucy felt her mouth go dry. Prison? She’d be just like her father.
Luvici continued. “Then there’s the mandatory two years you’d have to be married, and living as man and wife with this would-be suitor.”
“WHAT?” Lucy’s voice exploded from her mouth. “Did you say two years?”
Luvici gave her a shrug and raised his eyebrows. “Two years is the mandatory minimum. Plus you’ll have to go through the fed’s scrutiny for that entire time.”
Two years... The thought made Lucy’s stomach churn. That’s a hell of a long time to pretend to be married to a stranger. And even if I could make my family believe it...
“So, how much are we talking about here? Payment wise. It would have to be a lot, right?”
Luvici bit his lip as he mentally calculated. “I’d say...somewhere between fifty to sixty thousand dollars.”
There was a zero missing in that figure. Lucy wanted to go to a good school, the kind that ran around a quarter of a million dollars to graduate from. Not to mention she wanted to have nice things: great clothes, an apartment with a view, and a new car.
Fifty or sixty grand would only get her to a state college, in a dorm, with a used car. She wouldn’t even have enough to guarantee she finished.
“The lump sum of that would be paid only after the two year...” Luvici paused, obviously trying to come up with a better word than the one on the tip of his tongue.
“Sentence?” Lucy finished for him. It was the word that was on the tip of her tongue too.
“There would be some small disbursements, but the balance would be withheld until the end.”
“Peachy,” Lucy fumed. “So I sit around playing Little Wifey for two years before I’d get to even start my life?”
“Breaking the law isn’t as easy as it sounds.” Luvici snubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray, and then cracked his knuckles. “And don’t forget, one little slip up and Immigration will bend you over until your knees bend both ways.”
Ewwwww! So freaking gross... “Thanks for the visual.”
Darla’s nasal voice buzzed over the intercom.
“Mr. Enoch is on line one.”
For a moment Luvici looked down at the phone console on his desk like it was a snake ready to bite him. Seconds ticked by.
“Franky? Did you hear me?” Darla shrieked. “You know I hate talking with that guy!”
Luvici smashed the intercom button with his meaty forefinger. “I freaking heard you!” he barked. Lucy could’ve sworn he growled like an animal as he picked up the receiver and pushed the button for line one. “Dante, I was just going to...”
The blood drained from Luvici’s face again. If anything, he was even paler than when Lucy had brought up Kenny Fry and Luvici’s father-in-law.
“I know,” Luvici croaked, hand shaking as he reached for his smokes again. “It’s just...you can’t find that kind of girl just standing on the street corner. If you could, then I’d have a freaking chorus line of them for him to choose from.”
Lucy didn’t hear the voice on the other end yell or scream, but whatever it was saying to Luvici was making him shimmer green. Even his eyes seemed to be trembling in their sockets.
And then he looked at Lucy. He looked downright surprised to see her. Whoever it was on the phone must’ve been scary enough to make Luvici forget what he’d been doing.
I really, really never want to meet someone like that.
And then Luvici’s eyes got that sharp, shark-like glint to them again, and his cracked lips peeled back into a rather disturbing smile. “I think I might just have what you’re looking for. Can I call you back?” Luvici listened to the voice on the line, looking fairly anxious. “Sure, I can put you on speaker phone.”
With the press of a button Luvici set the receiver on the console and said, “You’re on speaker, sir.”
“My name is Dante Enoch,” a most cultured voice spoke. “Whom am I addressing?”
Luvici gestured for Lucy to speak.
“Lucy Hart,” she almost choked. Then with a quick little cough she said it again. “I’m Lucy Hart.”
“Well, Miss. Hart. I’m an Attorney, and I represent the Enoch family‘s interests.”
The man’s brittle yet refined voice made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Great, another lawyer...
She looked to Luvici and mouthed, “Who?”
Luvici shook his head with annoyance. “Enoch Incorporated has its hands in almost every type of business you can think of. It’s a multi—”
Dante’s voice cut across Luvici with an edge of warning. “Let’s just say the family is well off.”
She wagged a chastising finger at Luvici, mouthing “Bad Boy.”
I wonder if they have one of their “hands” in the cosmetics industry. The diamond sparkled in her mind’s eye.
“What I am looking for, Miss. Hart, is a suitable young lady to play a part of sorts. Have you had an acting experience?”
“Sure,” Lucy said to the chilling disembodied voice. “I was the lead in the last three end-of-year productions: Clueless, Bring It On, and Rent.
“You can sing?” Dante asked.
“Nope.”
“Ah huh,” His sigh had a definite edge of disappointment. “Any other experience?”
“Well, I have had boyfriends, and they all believed I would sleep with them. But not one actually got to.”
Luvici groaned and his head fell into his hands again.
“Fascinating, Miss Hart. I can’t wait to meet you.”
The feeling’s not mutual, creepy lawyer guy.
“Francis...”
Francis? Lucy couldn’t stop the smile from blooming across her lips. Luvici shot her his middle finger.
“Yes, Mr. Enoch.”
“The usual place, in let’s say...an hour?”
Luvici gulped and shot Lucy a look of horror, looking her over from head to toe. “Of course. No problem, sir.”
“Don’t be late.” The line went dead.
“Shit!” Luvici growled. He kept looking Lucy up and down. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”
“So you’re meeting this guy in an hour?”
Luvici shot out of his chair and grabbed his rumpled jacket from a coat rack in the corner.
“Not just me. We’re meeting them.”
It was Lucy’s turn to gulp. I reall
y don’t want to meet this guy. Then Luvici’s words caught up with her. “Them?”
Luvici held open the door gestured with his free hand emphatically for her to get up and get out the door. “You’re the one who said you wanted an arranged marriage kind of deal.”
“Sure, but—” Lucy was on her feet and Luvici was shoving her out the door and past Darla.
“I’ll be gone for the rest of the afternoon,” he barked at a wide-eyed Darla. “Reschedule all my appointments.”
“Do you want me to wait for you?” Darla’s shrill, laser beam voice suddenly dripped with heat and honey. Doe eyed, she smiled with what looked like genuine affection. Either the chick was one hell of an actress, or she had it bad for her schmuck of a boss.
Luvici stopped and looked at her, his eyes turning soft, his breathing slowing—even his meaty head cocked ever so slightly to the side. “This could take a while. But yeah, would you mind waiting for me?”
Lucy felt like she was watching a real live Life Time romance of the week movie. And then she remembered that Luvici, the schmuck, had a wife at home—whether she was waiting for him with open arms and pot roast, or not.
Yuck...
“I’ll wait,” Darla said enthusiastically. “I’ve got loads of filing to catch up on.”
Luvici smiled, kind of laughed once under his breath, then turned and dragged Lucy out of the office by the arm.
Chapter 6
“LET ME GO!” Lucy hollered, grabbing hold of the knob of a passing office door for leverage. Four inch heels were never good for putting on the breaks in.
Luvici looked back at her. His eyes had turned back to their previous glaring mode. “We have to hurry, princess.”
Okay, that’s it! Now he’s calling me that too...
“Get off me, you freaking troglodyte!”
Luvici let go of her arm like she’d burnt him. He rounded on her and stood there, practically nose to nose with her. His breath was making Lucy’s eyes water, but she wouldn’t back down. This guy was just a big bully, and after all, who’s the one doing the blackmailing around here?
“I—am—not—a—caveman!” He looked so pissed Lucy thought he was going to strike her. “I went to Stanford, just like your old man.” Suddenly his face seemed to crumble, and she saw that his eyes were getting glassy.
“Are you going to cry?”
“NO!” Luvici roared. But his face was starting to look like he was indeed getting ready to cry.
I really don’t need a blubbering fool right now.
“I’m not a caveman, the missing link, or a freaking giant...” He hands were out, palms up, beseeching. “I’m just big boned, for crying out loud!”
Lucy shook her head, and then switched to nodding in agreement. “Sure...I totally see that.”
“Then why’d you say that?” The hurt in his eyes made Lucy cringe. Where was the nasty, lecherous weasel that was checking her out just ten minutes ago?
“Everyone said that,” he grumbled. College...even my goddamn wife calls me a Cyclops!”
“Oh,” Lucy couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Okay, his eyes were a little close together, but with a little creative eyebrow plucking...
A tear was threatening to leak out of his left eye. Lucy couldn’t take it if he started to cry now.
“So, where is this place, where we’re meeting creepy phone guy.”
Luvici got back that annoyed look on his face. I can handle annoyed, just not weepy.
“We don’t call Mr. Enoch creepy phone guy. So remember that. He’s rich and powerful...hell the entire family’s rich and powerful. They all work for the company. Hell, they are the freaking company.”
“Okay, Okay.” Lucy put up her hands in surrender. “He’s now only known as Mr. Enoch. So where are we going? And why were you in such a hurry?”
This elicited Luvici to check his watch, groaning and swearing under his breath as he gestured again for me to walk.
“We’re meeting Mr. Enoch and his nephew at Caulderon’s.”
Lucy smiled. Her father had taken her there the day she’d passed her driver’s license exam. And he’d said they’d go again when she got accepted to Stanford. It was expensive. They didn’t even serve tap water, only fancy French and Italian stuff with bubbles.
“Excellent!” she chimed.
Luvici started moving down the street with some real speed. Now that he wasn’t dragging Lucy behind him, she suddenly had a hard time keeping up with him.
“Caulderon’s is just a couple blocks away,” Lucy yelled after him. “Why are you in such a rush?”
He stopped abruptly and turned to face her again. Looking down at her he said, “We have to dress you.”
Dress me? But I’m not naked...
But then it hit her. Jeans and a frumpy top weren’t going to impress people that were rich and powerful, or that frequented Caulderon’s. And then Lucy remembered that creepy phone guy—er…Mr. Enoch—had said he was looking for a “suitable young lady.”
Definitely, I need something else to wear.
With a sudden desperate tug at her heart she realized she didn’t have enough money to even buy underwear in the shops they were passing by, no less a dress.
“I can’t afford these shops.” Lucy said, grabbing hold of Luvici’s wrist as he jerked toward a boutique’s entrance.
Luvici rolled his eyes. “It’s on me, kid.”
“Thought you were broke?” she groused, stopping in her tracks, hands on hips.
“I can’t afford your little blackmail scheme, but I can tote the bill for a dress.” He looked down at Lucy’s shoes. “Maybe we can find something that will go with those shoes.”
Maybe, she thought as she followed Luvici into the boutique. Lucy had to stop. She turned and breathed in the scents: Designer clothes, Italian leather, silk, Egyptian cotton. And all of it new...
She suddenly felt a little light headed.
“Lucy!” Luvici shouted, tearing her out of her reverie. “Get in here.”
He was holding open the door to a changing room.
She stood there and just stared at the big man.
“Get in here and strip.” he said. “I’ll pick something out.”
Lucy shook her head. There was no way this overgrown slouch could pick out something pretty, refined and appropriate. Just look at Darla.
Luvici caught her by the arm and shoved her into the five by five, mirror clad changing room. “How are you going to pick me out something?”
Silence.
“I mean, not that I’m doubting your fashion sense,” But, oh god I am. Look at the way you dress. “You don’t even know what size I am!”
Suddenly something flew over the changing room door and dangled from Luvici’s meaty fingers until Lucy finally reached out and took it. It was a dress, ivory colored silk with a delicate pattern of exotic flowers. Gold thread was woven into the fabric. And low and behold, it was her size.
I hate that everyone seems to know what size I am now!
But just touching the soft, soft silk, and holding it up against her, looking in the full-length mirror in front of her, she couldn’t deny the big oaf had incredible taste.
“Thanks...Frank.”
“You’re welcome. Now try it on.” Lucy could hear him pacing outside the little room. “If we hurry, we can get you manicured and your hair done...maybe some demure makeup.”
Lucy had to agree. Her makeup was overdone. She’d been aiming for sultry with a side of dangerous. But that didn’t go well with the dress. And her hair and nails really needed work.
He had a good eye.
“And please tell me those shoes match the dress.”
Lucy looked down at her shoes and smiled. “Perfectly. Where did you get such a good eye?” Then Lucy remembered that Luvici liked girls and guys. There had to be some gay/bi-sexual fashion gene in there, somewhere.
There was a long silence, but just as she started pulling off her top Luvici started talking.
“I was going to be an art major, in college.”
“You’re an artist?” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.
“Not good enough to be a professional...but I really wanted to own a gallery someday.” She heard him chuckle unhappily to himself. “But the family—my father—insisted I go to law school.”
She recognized the edge to Luvici’s voice. His father hadn’t approved of him, and it still cut him like a knife. She could relate.
She slipped into the dress, easily zipping herself up, then inspected her reflection in the panorama of the mirrored walls. The dress was a knock out; elegant, yet fresh and young.
Lucy came out into the store with a flourish, turning in a grand gesture, smiling up at Luvici.
“Not bad.” He handed his charge card to the rather intimidated looking sales clerk.
Moments later he was ushering Lucy into a small beauty parlor with oriental decor, and an all oriental staff.
He walked right up to the gorgeous woman standing behind the counter. Her hair was like black glass, not a fly away or split end anywhere, and her skin was flawless.
“Ming Na…my friend here needs a manny-peddy, a trim, styled—maybe a twist—and makeup.” Luvici gave the woman that raised eyebrow look Lucy already hated.
“Sure thing Luvici,” The woman sounded like she hated that look too. “Why don’t you ever bring in that secretary of yours? She needs a lot more work than this one does.”
Luvici smiled. “I like Darla just the way she is. Now can you hurry? We’ve got...” He looked down at his watch. “Forty-five minutes.”
“It’ll cost you, dog.” Lucy almost didn’t catch the “dog” reference. She’d said it so matter-of-factly. Lucy suddenly wondered how many women Luvici was cavorting with. Or was he just that infamous?
The woman named Ming Na whisked Lucy back to the sinks and scrubbed her hair with the most enticing smelling shampoo. Exotic essences of flowers and fruit enveloped Lucy’s senses. Then she ushered her into a salon chair, and as she snipped away all of Lucy’s damaged ends, two other women started work on her hands and feet.
