by Gina LaManna
“See? This is what I’m talking about,” I said. “Staying in character no matter what. But the second thing is that I think you went a bit overboard on the costume. It’s so believable, it’s unbelievable. I mean the detail...” I peered closer at the streaks of dirt and grime across his face. “That looks like weeks of buildup. Honestly, I’m impressed.”
“Lacey,” Anthony said, grabbing my arm and pulling me away. “Enough.”
“Fine, fine,” I said, rolling my eyes good-naturedly. “I’ll stop harassing your men. It was a compliment, really. Tell him to lighten the cologne next time.”
“He wasn’t one of mine,” Anthony said.
My mind was still pleasantly processing his words for a good amount of time after they left his mouth. I didn’t quite understand, until...“What?”
“He’s not – he’s not one of mine,” Anthony said.
“You mean...” I looked back at the man, who continued to laugh to himself and cook his hands over the glowing orange light. “Why didn’t you stop me? I’ve completely embarrassed myself.” I turned away from Anthony, letting his arm drop. “I have to go apologize.”
“What? No! Lacey, that’s enough,” Anthony nodded towards the man. “I don’t think he’s complaining. Most men don’t complain when a girl as pretty as you stops to chat with them.”
His words made my cheeks grow hot as asphalt in the desert. I played his words over again in my head a few times, reminiscing about the idea that Anthony thought I was pretty. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t hear his next sentence. I didn’t hear it the first time, or the second time, but when he lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it before speaking the third time, I paid attention.
“Wha – uh, what?” I asked, shaking my head to clear any frivolous cobwebs away. “What did you say?”
“I said, for the third time, that I have something to tell you.”
“Go ahead,” I said, a bit puzzled. Anthony was a man of few words, and he didn’t usually ask permission before speaking. “I’m listening.”
“About the warehouse,” Anthony said. “It’s not – it’s not exactly...” He glanced behind him. “It’s not what it looks—”
“Sir?” A voice spoke from a dark, hidden alley as Anthony and I passed the mouth of it.
Anthony shielded his eyes from the street light with one hand, the other immediately at his waist and ready to retrieve a gun.
But when a man I recognized – for sure, this time – as one of Anthony’s emerged with his hands held high, Anthony relaxed. “What is it, Fede?”
“It’s uh,” Federico looked in my direction. “It’s confidential.”
“She’s okay,” Anthony said. “I trust her.”
I leaned in a little closer to him, but then immediately chastised myself. Give him room to work, Lacey! I told myself. Don’t mix business and play.
It was difficult, but I pulled myself into a stiff posture and stepped away from Anthony. I tried my best to look professional, though I didn’t exactly feel at the top of my game after mistaking a homeless person for one of Anthony’s highly trained guards. Still, the thought niggled at my brain. Why had the man been there if he wasn’t planted? He was much too close to the warehouse for Anthony’s liking, especially during an investigation. Anthony didn’t leave things to chance. He didn’t appreciate wild cards.
“Sir, it’s something yet unreported,” Fede said.
“Unreported?” Anthony raised an eyebrow. “This isn’t in regards to the warehouse?”
With his lips clamped tightly shut, Fede glanced at me and gave a single, abrupt shake of his head.
“What is it?” Anthony’s voice hardened. “What is this in regards to?”
“You’re aware of the issue,” Fede said. “But this is a new development. An urgent one.”
“Firearms?” Anthony asked.
It was clear the two men were dancing around an issue that neither was entirely sure they wanted me to hear. The gun in Anthony’s cup holder flashed into my mind, and I put two and two together.
“I can give you space,” I said, wryly turning with a half-smile. “I’ll just go hang out with my friend, over there. Not very chatty, but maybe he’ll share his bonfire.”
I started moving away and realized I was annoyed – partially at myself, and partially at Anthony. I wanted to give him space and let him do his job in peace, but I was also supposed to be working on this case. Anthony should be letting me help. Logically, I knew that just because Anthony and I were friendly outside of Family business, I shouldn’t let the relationship affect his job. His job was a matter of life or death, and he shouldn’t have a weakness. He shouldn’t make exceptions – not even for me. Still, the rejection stung.
I knew he’d sent me away, not because he didn’t trust me, but simply because it was a matter that didn’t involve me. Maybe I shouldn’t have responded so snarkily, but I couldn’t change it now. Besides, despite Anthony’s stoic expression at my retort, a portion of the hardness in his eyes had crumbled when I walked away. I didn’t like to see Anthony hurt or conflicted because of me, but I did like to know that he cared.
“Lacey,” Anthony called after me, jogging quickly to catch up. “Wait.”
I was halfway towards our mutual friend – or rather, non-mutual homeless friend – by the time Anthony clasped my wrist. Like the professional he was, Fede stood at attention and looked in the other direction, but not before I caught him sneaking a confused glance towards us.
I looked down and slowed to a complete stop. Without raising my eyes, I tried for a joke. “Are you out of personal words for tonight? Business only, now?” I was trying to show him that I was sorry for being sassy earlier, but it didn’t work. When I found his eyes, I saw a conflict there that I’d never seen before.
“Lace, I’m sorry,” Anthony said.
“For what?” I shrugged. “You have nothing to apologize for. You have every right to do your job, and I shouldn’t make you feel bad about it.”
“It’s not that.” Anthony looked over his shoulder. Fede dutifully maintained his misdirected line of sight, but clearly neither Anthony nor I felt comfortable showing there was any sort of affection or friendship between us in public. Not when other family members were around.
“What is it, then?” I asked, my voice lilting with curiosity. “You can have as much time as you need to talk with Fede.”
He shook his head. “I don’t need time to talk. We have had a development come up that needs immediate attention.”
“More immediate than a bomb slotted to go off tomorrow? There could be human casualties!” My jaw opened in disbelief.
“I can’t give you any information about it.”
“You already have,” I pointed out. “I saw the gun in your cup holder. You mentioned a firearms issue. No, I don’t know the exact details, but I’d imagine someone’s got their hands on a bunch of illegal guns in the Cities. And I’m guessing you’re involved because they’re distributing them to the underworld. Or other families. Or someone that puts the Luzzis in danger. Am I right?”
Anthony didn’t respond, which signaled to me that I was close enough to not need correcting.
“How is that more pressing than a bomb?” I asked.
Anthony looked down. “About the bomb...”
“What is it, Anthony?” I asked as my voice suddenly became more forceful; it cracked as I took another step away from him. “Why won’t you work with me on this assignment? Am I so terrible to work with?”
“No, Lacey. The bomb isn’t at the warehouse.” It appeared as if Anthony had blurted out the sentence by the way his eyes widened in surprise, and his hand twitched upwards, almost as if wanting to cover his mouth. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“What did you mean it like, then?” I hurled the question at him, the smallest tinge of ice to my voice. I’d already forgotten that I’d upset him once today, with my comment about being Family. Now, my blood chilled as I waited for him to remind me of m
y incompetence. Or for him to tell me that girls don’t belong in his field. Or to...
“We thought the bomb was here,” Anthony said, clearing his throat as if stalling, thinking hard and grasping at what he wanted to say, “but when I got the call while we were upstairs, when my watch blinked, the text in Italian said that the warehouse was the wrong place. The rumors were wrong.”
“What? I don’t understand.” I shook my head. “Why are we still here?”
Anthony hesitated. “Walk with me.”
“Talk to me, Anthony,” I said. “I feel like I’m being played and I don’t like that. Just tell me the truth.”
“I’d prefer to discuss it in private,” he said.
“Why?” I asked. I knew I was being petty. I knew I was making things difficult for Anthony. Still, the words couldn’t be stopped. “Aren’t you out of personal words yet? It seems like you’re all business, now.”
“Let’s walk,” Anthony said through gritted teeth.
Chapter 9
“FINE, I’LL WALK,” I agreed. “But don’t think you can get out of this by kissing me or rubbing my neck or holding my hand.” Yes, all those options sounded great, but as painful as it was, I had to know if Anthony was willing to work with me in a professional capacity. If not, either our work or our private relationship would suffer. I needed to know which one would be the first to go.
Guiding me in the opposite direction from Fede and away from the homeless man, Anthony led me down a side street one block over.
“I wanted to talk to you in private because you deserve as much,” Anthony said, as we rounded the corner.
I remained silent.
“Lacey, you’re making this difficult on me,” Anthony said. “Talk to me.”
“Fine,” I said, pulling up short and talking to Anthony’s back. He took a step before he’d realized I’d frozen in my tracks. Turning around, he dragged one hand through his hair and remained a short distance away. The space between us was a chilly one. “I know you work for Carlos. I know your job is important to you. It’s important to the whole Family – and I know that.”
I took a ragged sigh. “It’s hard work being a girl in the Family. But it’s my job, too. I work hard. I want to do well. Sometimes I’m goofy and other times completely incompetent. But that doesn’t change the fact that I try.”
“I know you do,” Anthony said. “Nobody doubts that.”
“Really?” I asked, my voice snappier than I’d planned. “Because that’s what it feels like. First, you let me talk to a homeless person who I thought was one of your men. Second, you get a message that the rumors about a bomb are false, and you don’t tell me. Instead you pretend that everything is normal. I feel like I’m your pet puppy, Anthony. Like I’m a cute little golden retriever, like you’re showing me a good time, but putting me away when anything real happens. It doesn’t feel very nice.”
“Lace,” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it like that. The reason I didn’t tell you was because I was having a good time with you.”
I looked up, my confused face reflected back at me in Anthony’s creamy brown eyes. His gaze was soft, his mouth pinched with concern.
“I don’t talk to many people like I talk to you,” Anthony said, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another. His back was stiff, his eyes hardening as he spoke. “It’s difficult for me to find someone I trust. Someone I feel comfortable to be myself around.”
My internal emotions were roiling. He’d lied because he wanted to keep talking with me? I felt like the world’s largest dork now. A cruel dork.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know – I thought...I thought you were keeping things from me about the assignment because you didn’t trust me.”
“No,” Anthony said. “I do trust you.”
I shook my head. “But—”
“There’s some things I can’t tell you right now,” Anthony said, interrupting me as I prepared to apologize again.
I raised my eyes, the apology wedged in my throat. “About what?”
“The bomb,” Anthony said, his eyes averted.
I swallowed my apology with disappointment. “I thought you trusted me.”
“I do, but—” Anthony gave a one-shoulder shrug. “It’s for your own good.”
“No, Anthony. I don’t think so.” I shook my head. Gathering up as much courage as I could muster – all the way from the tips of my fingers to the tips of my toes, I faced the man I’d come to lo— er, like and trust. “It’s not for my own good. Carlos assigned us to work as partners on this. If you want to work together, I need to be a part of the good, the bad, and the ugly.”
Anthony opened his mouth.
“Don’t say you’re shielding me to keep me safe,” I said. “I’m not saying I want to bust in the warehouse and shoot up the place. I have no interest in guns, and I certainly don’t feel comfortable keeping them in my cup holder. I use butter knives to cut my steak because I’m afraid of sharp blades, and I nearly fainted the other day when Dr. Gambino pricked my finger.”
He still refused to meet my eyes.
“All I am asking is for transparency and honesty. If we’re going to be a team – partners – I don’t think that’s too much to ask for.”
Anthony’s face contorted in a grimace that was impossible to mistake. Clearly he was fighting a battle as to whether or not he would tell me the information I asked of him. My heart ached as I longed to help him, but it wasn’t my decision to make. I’d expressed what I wanted; now he needed to decide what he wanted.
My heart sank as his face settled into a harder version of what it was moments before. His chocolaty eyes darkened until they matched the color of raw cacao, and his lips were no longer soft at the edges. Pulled in a thin line, his mouth no longer smiled and his forehead creased with doubt. Running a hand through his hair once again, he stepped closer to me.
“It’s all right,” I whispered. I couldn’t make this easier on either of us, but I would try. I wanted to be with Anthony, and he wanted to be with me. But if he couldn’t learn to trust and talk to me, I didn’t know what more I could do. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”
“Lacey,” Anthony said, grasping for my hand.
I let him catch it, hold it, clasp his fingers in mine. When I peered up at him, my eyes were beginning to blur. My birthday had gone from exhilarating to devastating in a matter of moments, but then again, wasn’t that what falling in love was all about? The highest of highs followed by the deepest of troughs, all within a matter of minutes.
Love? I distracted myself so I wouldn’t think about the moment at hand. Where had that come from? I’d barely done more than kiss the man.
“You have to trust me. You have to believe me when I say this is something I can’t talk to you about,” Anthony said.
His eyes pleaded with mine, and I believed that he was convinced he was doing the right thing. But I wasn’t.
Alas, we were at a standstill.
“I have two questions,” I said, my voice shaking. I cleared my throat and spoke with a stronger tone when I began again. “Please don’t lie to me.”
“I haven’t lied to you,” Anthony said firmly.
“Are you keeping something from me about the fireworks assignment from Carlos?” I asked.
Anthony opened his mouth, closed it, and then clasped his hands in front of his body. His eyes were stony. “Yes.”
I swallowed. I’d thought he wasn’t telling the full truth, so I wasn’t sure why it hit me so hard when he admitted it.
“Lace—”
“Second,” I said, holding up a finger, “are you leaving with Fede to work on the firearms thing?”
“I don’t have a choice,” he said.
“You do,” I said, my voice low and husky. “You’re the person Carlos trusts most. You’re the head of security. You do what you want. I thought you said you wouldn’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying,” he said, a fire beginning
to blaze in his eyes. “I told you I wouldn’t lie.”
“Then explain to me why suddenly forgetting about this whole bomb-going-off thing tomorrow is suddenly no longer on your agenda?” I asked. “The firearms issue can’t wait a day?”
“It can,” Anthony said.
“Well?” I raised my arms in a helpless gesture. “I promise you I’m not as stupid as I seem sometimes. Help me fill in the blanks, please.”
“I promised you I wouldn’t lie,” Anthony said. “And I haven’t. Like you said, I do what I want. I’m the boss. I’m in charge, and now I’m pulling rank.”
To my surprise, he closed the chilly distance between us and when our skin touched, the air went from frigid to flaming in a heartbeat. He pressed his lips to mine, an almost angry kiss, but one full of emotion and heart. His hand clamped down and held the back of my head tightly, the other arm pulling my body close with a tight grasp around my lower back.
When he broke the kiss, both of us appeared shocked. Both his chest and mine heaved with thick breaths. My mind and my spirit were rattled, but not my heart. The passion, the emotions, and the romance – none of it mattered if I couldn’t trust him.
“I hate to do this,” Anthony said. “But it’s for your own good.”
“’Bye, Anthony,” I said, stepping backwards, unable to remove my eyes from his.
“Let me drive you home,” he said. “Please.”
“No,” I said. “I don’t know if I’m going home. “
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll call Clay,” I said. “I’m sure you have business to take care of.” The poison dripped from my voice, though I didn’t mean it. I couldn’t. I didn’t have it in me to dislike Anthony, let alone hurt him on purpose. They were hollow shells of words, the sentence a skeleton of what I really wanted to say.
Anthony followed me for a bit as I strode back towards the front of the warehouse.
“Stop,” I said. “You know what’s best, and you’ve decided that what Fede’s come to discuss with you is more important than the fireworks case.”
“It’s not about important—”
