It Should Happen to You

by Kathleen O'Reilly

  Today was just another day, and if she reminded herself of it often enough, she just might start to believe it.

  Mickey says: "You there?"

  Silence.

  Mickey says: "You there? Oh, forget it. I'm using the phone."

  "Beth?"

  "Hello?"

  Mickey wasted no time in telling the part she wanted to tell. "I'm in the clear. There never was a tape."

  "The cretin!"

  Mickey couldn't agree more, but since there was no sign of John nor his possessions in his cubby, she wouldn't be able to tell him in person. Darn.

  At Bern's prompting, Mickey gave her the Cliff's Notes version of what happened, omitting that little bit there at the end. That secret was going to her grave.

  "Are you going to"

  "We said goodbye," said Mickey in a tone that closed the subjectpermanently. "I've been thinking. We all should get together on Saturday. Jessica will be back."

  Beth took the hint. "That sounds like fun. Oh, I forgot. It's your turn to be the voice of reason. Benedict O'Malley is back in Chicago. Divorced. Susan let it slip. Should I say something to Cassandra? She's bound to see him."

  Mickey poked at the lonely ivy on her desk. So Mickey wasn't the only one getting screwed in her love life. For once she felt sorry for Cassandra. For once she understood. "Old Nick is back, huh? Don't say anything. Maybe we'll get lucky."

  "That's what I was thinking, too. Hey listen, I've been doing the Internet dating service. You need to try this. Three dates lined up for next week."

  "Nah. I get too much computer stuff during work. I think I'll meet my men the old-fashioned way. Besides, it's dangerous. You need to be careful, Beth. There's a lot of psychos out there."

  "You aren't talking about Dominic, are you?"

  "No," said Mickey quietly.

  "I was hoping"

  Mickey interrupted. "Never mind."

  "Mickey, are you okay?"

  "Peachy. You?"

  "I'm surviving," said Beth.

  "Sold any more confessions?"

  "One. 'Tales of a Mafia Princess'"

  Oh, God . "Beth! You promised."

  "It's not about you . It's about a girl who visits Italy and gets swept up in La Cosa Nostra. I'd actually started it when Dominic started coming into the store. He just inspires those sorts of fantasies."

  Mickey knew just what she meant. "You're starting to scare me, Beth," she said with a half-hearted laugh, because Beth would expect her to say something like that.

  "It's about time," was Beth's reply.

  For Dominic, the week passed in a blur. Every morning he went to Dilly's, and then in the afternoon he visited the pool hall over on Division. It was a good place to be seen. He was starting to recognize some faces. Some he thought were soldiers, and some looked like union guys.

  He heard the whispers about the new highway construction project, too. No one said much, but Dominic took it in stride. A good cop just needed a little patience.

  As an added bonus, the work kept him busy, a needed diversion. One half of him was dying to see Michelle again, the other half knew that it was for the best. Her planthe refused to call it Persimmondid okay except for the one day that he overwatered it and ended up pouring a glassful of mud down his kitchen sink.

  Twice he picked up the phone to call her, and twice he hung up.

  On Thursday, he went back to Starbucks and found his table, making a few calls and reading the morning paper.

  An hour later, Frankie lumbered in, getting a decaf nonfat latte and then settling himself in a chair. His face was split by a huge, self-satisfied grin. At least somebody was happy.

  "It's either love or money," Dom said. "Considering you're still wearing those five-year-old Hush Puppies on your feet, it must be love."

  "You should be a detective, my friend," said Frankie.

  Dominic searched for hidden undertones, but there were none. Frankie was making a joke, nothing more.

  "The flowers worked?" he asked.

  "Like a champ. Five minutes after I confessed, she was bawling on my shoulder. She never wanted to marry the bastard. After I heard some of the stories, I would've knocked him off myself."

  "She's married?" Hastily, Dominic swallowed some juice. "You should stay away from married women, Frankie. They're trouble," he said.

  "Nah. I think she's getting a divorce."

  Dom didn't believe it; Frankie was being played. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "You don't know what she's going to do."

  "Yeah, I do. He lays a hand on her again? Boom," Frankie said, with a dark look on his face.

  Ah, geez . "Who are we talking about?" Dominic asked, praying he was wrong.

  "Amber Amarante."

  Dominic swore loud enough to turn heads. "Frankie, this is not good."

  Thankfully, Frankie looked a little sheepish. "I know, but I love her."

  "Couldn't you fall in love with somebody less married?" urged Dom, this time remembering to keep his voice low.

  "No."

  Dominic was not one to toss around advice to the lovelorn, so he let up. "What are you going to do?"

  "I'm going to marry her."

  "Bigamy is a Class four felony. That's five to ten in Joliet, and then you're still not married to her. Hell." Dom threw up his hands.

  "She said she was going to divorce Vinny," he repeated stubbornly.

  "Frankie, I like you, and I don't want to see you dead. Stay away from her."

  "I need your help."

  Oh, God. It gets worse. "Don't ask me to do this."

  "She likes your girl, Michelle. You know Amber isn't used to anybody listening. Vinny just shuts her out. I want her to see how a normal couple works. I want the four of us to go out."

  "I will not do this," he said, even while he remembered the feel of Michelle in his arms.

  "There's this ghost cruise on the Chicago River; some goombah is holding a scholarship fund-raiser for underprivileged kids. I can come with you and Michelle, and who could guess? We accidentally bump into her. We got it all planned."

  "I can't do this, Frankie," Dominic said. One last plea because he had tried to do right by Michelle. He had walked away from her. It was the hardest thing he'd done in his life, and he couldn't do it twice.

  Frankie steepled his fingers together, always a bad sign. "Tell you what. I'll give you two points of my action. Tax-free cigarettes. It's a sweet, sweet deal. Consider it my way of returning the favor."

  Slowly Dominic lifted his head. It wasn't the way he wanted it, or the way he had it planned, but that's the way it was. "I'll help you, but no Michelle. We split up."

  "Well, unsplit up then. Amber liked her. Ergo, I like her."

  "I can't, Frankie."

  "Oh, come on. Did you screw around on her and now she's not talking? Fix it. I've seen you with the ladies. One smile and they're eating out of your hand."

  "I can't fix it," said Dominic tightly. He could still taste her, smell her; it was making him nuts.

  Frankie jumped to his feet, faster than Dominic would have thought possible. "Have a good life, Corlucci."

  Dominic slammed his hand on the table. This was not supposed to happen. This time he was trying to do the right thing. He couldn't let anything happen to her. Frankie turned and waited.

  Sure, and then he'd blow the whole case. So why was he a cop? Why even try?

  Admit it, Dominic, you're a failure.

  He found the medal against his neck and closed his eyes until he found his strength. He could protect her. This time it would work. When he opened his eyes, he knew he was doing right. As long as he did right, it'd be okay.

  "I'll do it," he answered.

  Immediately, Frankie broke into a broad grin. "I knew I could count on you, Dom."

  "Yeah. Dependable Dom. That's me."

  Jessica's homecoming became a fully baked plan. The girls figured that one day of after-honeymoonage would be plenty. After that, everything should revert to normal.
Mickey wasn't sure, because Jessica, who was never a call screener, had let her voice mail kick in all four times that Mickey had called. Mickey tried not to be offended, but the truth was out there.

  In deference to Jessica's new nonsingle state, they opted to meet at Mickey's apartment instead of a bar. It was a nice gesture.

  After Jessica arrived, Mickey was ready with the first toast. She lifted her martini glass.

  "To good men and the one woman lucky enough to find him."

  Jessica put down her glass. "That is such a deep pile, Mick. There are lots of great men out there. You just have to meet them."

  Beth handed over her olive to Jessica. "Obviously you have forgotten the misery of the search."

  Cassandra took a sip of her drink, and leaned back into the couch. "Monogamous sex will kill brain cells. It was a factoid on CNN."

  Jessica drained her glass. "Do you want to hear about Tibet?"

  "No," they all shot back at once.

  Jessica sneezed. "Just asking. So what's happened since I've been gone?"

  Beth shot Mickey one of those looks. Mickey gave her a "don't say anything" look back.

  However, eagle-eye Barnes, uh, Taylor, spotted it. "What's up?"

  At that moment, the doorbell rang and Mickey jumped up. "Whoa! Better run to get that. Might be pizza."

  She opened the door on Dominic.

  Not a pizza after all.

  Quickly, she slipped out to the hallway and shut the door behind her, determined not to let him get away and equally determined to hide him from her friends, who just wouldn't understand. "Hi," she said, just like a moron.

  "This is a bad time. I knew I should have called," he said. "Look, I'll see you later."

  "No!" She grabbed him by the back of his shirt and then, appalled at herself, let go. "I've got some old friends inside and I" Oh, God, how to explain this without sounding like a snobby bitch?

  "It's okay," he said, grabbing her hand. "I understand that part. It's easier this way."

  His thumb rubbed against her palm, making it difficult to move. "Thank you," she managed, because at the very least, she should be polite.

  "How you doin'?" he asked, his dark eyes cutting right to her heart.

  "I missed you," she said, sounding girlie and needy and all those things she despised.

  "I missed you, too," he said and then he was kissing her. It felt like three years since the last time he had kissed her, and she put everything into her response. For a moment it was heaven, and then all too quickly he was moving away.

  "I'm sorry," he said.

  "Do not apologize," she snapped.

  "I'm so" and then stopped at her glare. "That's a lie. I'm not sorry at all."

  When he looked at her like that, she could have stayed out in the hallway forever. But the neighbors would talk, and eventually her friends were going to try and leave. Surely this was a good sign, though. He had actually come to see her. She flashed an apologetic smile. "I'm not great in the hostess department, but I'm going to have to go inside soon. They'll start looking."

  "Yeah. I know. Listen, I didn't want to do this, but I don't have a choice. I need to ask you out." He groaned, and then rubbed his eyes. "Geez, that sounded like crap. Let me start over. I've been dying to see you again, but I know it's the wrong thing to do, but I'm in need of your assistance. It's about Amber."

  "Is she all right?" Mickey asked quietly.

  "Yeah, she's fine. Remember Frankie?"

  "Big guy, big nose?"

  Dominic smiled. "Yeah, that's him. He's trying to talk her into leaving VinnyI can't believe I'm getting involved in all thisand he wants us to go out with them. On a date. You know, show her life on the outside."

  Calmly, he was aiding and abetting in an affair, and she felt shocked. It amazed her to realize how immorally inept she was. "Won't Vinny get mad?" she asked, because Vinny looked like that sort of person.

  "He won't know," Dominic said, brushing it aside. "It's some do-gooder thing for a scholarship fund, and she's going to meet up with us. Vinny asked a bunch of people to go. It'll all look legit."

  This was her chance to do something. She'd felt helpless about Amber's situation, and hopefully Frankie wasn't the fire to Vinny's frying pan. Frankie didn't look the type; he had this large Pooh-bear thing going on. But the best thing of all, she'd have a perfect excuse to see Dominic again. Because it was an act of charity. It sounded nobleeven brave.

  Dominic got this resigned look on his face. "It's okay. I know it was stupid"

  "I'd be glad to help."

  "No. You know what? Screw Frankie. Forget about it. You want to go out, we'll do something normal. Movie, dinner."

  "No, I want to help," she said, knowing that Amber was the perfect rationalization for doing something that was, once again, incredibly stupid.

  "Michelle" he said, in that husky voice.

  She wouldn't let him finish. "You asked. I said 'yes.' Now let's move on."

  He studied her, then apparently she passed some test, because he nodded. "If you do this, there's some rules you gotta follow."

  "I'm a good rule-follower."

  "You can't use your real name. Michelle Jones. Never give out your real name."

  "I can do that," she said, thinking it sounded like a damned good idea.

  "And we go in my car. Yours stands out."

  "Do I have to wear the wig?" she asked, hoping for a no .

  He started to consider it, but she made a command decision. "No wig. I hate that wig," she said.

  "Wear the wig. No arguments. Don't talk much about yourself. Keep everything vague."

  "You know, you keep this up, and I'm going to get a complex."

  "I don't want you to get hurt. Frankie's a good guy and all"

  "'S all right. I understand."

  He promised to pick her up the next night, and then it was time for goodbye.

  The door opened and Jessica started to poke her head through. Dominic dodged to the side and Mickey slammed the door in Jessica's face. "Encyclopedia salesman. You know I'm a sucker. I'll be inside in a minute," she called against the closed doorway.

  Dominic snickered. "Encyclopedia salesman?"

  Mickey flushed. "Whatever."

  "I'll go then. See you tomorrow."

  He started to go and then turned back. "One kiss," he whispered and then he was kissing her.

  "I could get used to this," she murmured against his mouth.

  "I already have," he said, kissing her again.

  * * *

  Chapter Nine

  After Dominic was gone, Mickey had slipped back inside. She thought she was in the clear. In fact, they let her slide for two hours, but then Jessica cornered her in the kitchen. "Who was that at the door?"

  Mickey pulled out a new bag of chips and poured them into a bowl. "I told you. Encyclopedia salesman."

  "Liar, liar."

  "Leave it alone, Jess." .

  She shrugged, popped a chip into her mouth. "Your call. I'm here, but if it's Mr. Intern, I won't hold it against you just because he's five years younger. It's got a certain cachet."

  "It's not John."

  Jessica studied her, and Mickey waited for the Spanish Inquisition. Nothing. Finally Jessica nodded. "All right. But IM if you need anything."

  "I will," answered Mickey, knowing she never would. Some secrets were best kept from people who would not hesitate to tell you how stupid you were being.

  "Best friends?" asked Jessica.

  Mickey gave her an awkward hug. "Always."

  Around midnight Cassandra and Jessica left, but Beth hung back. "Was that John?" she asked. "I thought you got the tape back."

  Mickey had glossed over many details of the night she got the tape back, including the fact that she had made love with one Dominic Corlucci, mafioso extraordinaire.

  "I had to pay Dominic. You know those mob types, never get in debt," she said with a laugh.

  Beth didn't look like she was buying it any more than Jes
sica. "Be careful."

  "Don't worry," said Mickey with a faux smile. She was getting good at lying to her friends.

  When she closed the door, she was all alone. And then she began to smile. Tomorrow. If she could break the time-space continuum and blast right into tomorrow, she would. It might have been stupid, but she really couldn't wait.

  On Saturday, Dominic worked it so he arrived right on time. Michelle came to the door, looking gorgeous in a midriff-baring top and pants. She had a great midriff. For a moment, he contented himself with ogling her midriff.

  "You look great," he said finally, when speech was again possible.

  She smiled and opened her mouth to reply just as the phone rang. She held up a "just a minute" finger to Dom and ran over to get it.

  "Hello," she said into the receiver.

  "Hi, Dad."

  She had a father. Uh-oh.

  "Yeah, I'm doing fine."

  "He's giving the lecture next week. I already told him I would be there. Listen, I need to go "

  "Yes, Dad."

  "Yes, it's a date."

  She was telling her father that she had a date.

  "He's very nice."

  Nice ? Dom considered that for a minute. Maybe .

  "I don't know."

  What does he do? He's a gangster . He could see why she was answering what she was.

  "I don't know."

  Does he have fourteen degrees? Probably not.

  "Probably not."

  See?

  "I'm glad you're okay. I was worried. I'll make us reservations for dinner."

  But not with Dominic.

  "Okay, if you insist. Bye."

  After she hung up the phone, she blew a lock of hair out of her eyes. "Sorry," she said.

  "No problem," he answered. I understand why you just lied to your father about me. Hell, I lie to my own father .

  "Let me get a jacket. This may take a while, because I've got to find it first."

  "Sure. I'll wait."

  The phone rang again. "I'll get that. Hold on," she yelled from the other room.

  Yeah, Dominic. Don't pick up the phone.

  She ran back into the living room and lifted the receiver. "Hi, Cassandra." She smiled apologetically at Dom.