Lacey Luzzi Box Set

by Gina LaManna

  “I stopped at your apartment earlier today.” Meg didn’t face me, but she spoke over her shoulder, her voice quiet. “I thought I’d pick up the costume box from Nora. Get to work on your Aladdin costume so we could go as a pair.”

  I swallowed hard. She wasn’t done speaking, I could tell, and I didn’t have it in me to interrupt.

  “Clay gave me the box. When I asked, he said you were running a quick errand to a mechanic and then stopping by the bar.” Meg took a deep breath. “I took the night off, had Julio cover bartending duties so we could talk in peace.” Meg shook her head. “I mistakenly assumed that a quick errand wouldn’t take, what...eight hours?”

  “I’m sorry! It’s not what it looks like. The errand morphed into a bigger thing, a stakeout for Oleg, and—”

  “And you forgot about me. How about a text?” Meg folded her arms. “It’s not that hard. Anyway, the bar’s closed. Go home.”

  A physical pain clutched my heart. I’d never fought with Meg before. Not a real, serious disagreement. My chest constricted as I suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

  “I’m so sorry,” I gasped, bending in half. “I never meant to upset you. I didn’t know you stopped over, took the night off...I’m so sorry.”

  “Apology accepted.” Meg shrugged. “I’ll see you later.”

  But the hollowness of her voice hurt worse than anything she could’ve said. “Meg, you’re my friend, my best friend – nobody can ever take your place.”

  “I didn’t think so, either.” Meg turned around, her expression unreadable. “Guess I was wrong. I’ll let you out through the front door.”

  “But—”

  “Give her some time.” Julio appeared from nowhere, stepping between the two of us and fixing his gaze on me.

  I crumpled to the floor, hugging my knees to my chest. “Meg, I apologized. Please give me another shot.”

  “Give her some time,” Julio whispered against my ear. “Go home for tonight, you’ve had a hectic day. She’ll be calmer tomorrow. I’ll talk to her.”

  I allowed Julio to lead me like a zombie through the bar. He helped me into my car, started the ignition, guided my shaking fingers to the steering wheel.

  “Are you okay to drive?” he asked.

  I cleared my throat and nodded. “Yes, I’m okay.”

  “She doesn’t mean all of it,” Julio said, his head still halfway through my window. “She’s just upset.”

  “We hadn’t planned a specific time...” I said, still feeling like I was in a daze. “I didn’t know she took the night off, expected me. I feel like a horrible person.”

  “A misunderstanding,” Julio said. “You could’ve texted her, she could’ve texted you, none of us would be here. It happens. That’s called a miscommunication.”

  “You’ll really talk to her? You think it’ll be okay?” I asked, my breath coming in short bursts.

  “A friendship like yours comes along once in a lifetime.” Julio shrugged. “You guys are weird. Really, really weird. But somehow you’re perfect for each other.”

  “Which is why I don’t want to ruin a good thing.” My voice caught in my throat as I thought about how much I must’ve hurt my friend when she thought I was blowing her off to hang out with Anthony.

  “She still cares about you.” Julio offered a shy grin. “She doesn’t bust out her gun and shoot at intruders for just anyone. Like I said, it will be fine. Next time, just promise me you’ll give each other a phone call first. I was in the middle of a soccer game on TV, and I might’ve missed a goal dealing with you two.”

  “Thanks.” I gave him a weak smile. “I’ll get out of here. Tell her...tell her I’m sorry.”

  “What did I just say?” Julio narrowed his eyes. “Call her tomorrow and tell her the damn thing yourself. This isn’t a game of telephone. If you’d just talked to each other in the first place, I wouldn’t even need to be involved.”

  “You’re right.” I gave a nod, convincing myself more than him. “See you.”

  Julio patted the roof of the Lumina as I pulled away from the curb.

  Tears stung my eyes, and a stubborn one dripped onto my chin as I merged onto the highway. I’d already forgotten about whoever had followed me down the alley, if anyone. For some reason, it seemed less important than my argument with Meg.

  Because the latter hurt more.

  I couldn’t get rid of the image that’d been burned into my mind after Meg told me to leave. As Julio had walked me through the bar, I’d noticed my favorite drink – a customized beverage Meg had developed full of sugar, vodka, and fruit – sitting untouched on the counter.

  Alone, and forgotten.

  Chapter 13

  THE NEXT MORNING, I ignored the space from the missing costume box on my floor. I walked past Clay’s room, not in the mood to interact with another human being. Needless to say, I wasn’t looking forward to hauling myself to the estate for Nora’s personality quiz.

  I almost forgot to pour my coffee into a to-go mug, and that would’ve been catastrophic. I could hardly handle Carlos and Nora fully caffeinated – there was no way I’d be able to handle the entire Luzzi clan in one room on no coffee.

  Buzzing across town, I did my best not to think about everything I’d screwed up in the last day or so. I’d isolated my best friend, obtained a mystery shadow who inconveniently followed me when I wasn’t looking, and signed up to entertain a bunch of kids in a wild goose chase after my dad, when I should’ve been hunting down the missing crown.

  Not a great start to a Thursday morning.

  Things didn’t improve when I found the exterior lawn evacuated at the estate. The last time the place had been this deserted, it’d been because Nora had scheduled a yoga class by a man named Ira Bliss. Ira believed in wheat grass shots, living off the land, and iPhones. I could only hope he didn’t double up in his career ventures and moderate personality quizzes, as well.

  “Place looks empty today,” I said, giving Harold a terse smile as I entered the room. “Why’s that?”

  “Hmm. Everything has been hush, hush.” Harold, to my surprise, followed me down the hallway.

  “You’re coming, too?”

  “Everyone’s required to attend the meeting.” Harold shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe the number of guards who called in sick today.”

  “I can only imagine. Is Clay here?”

  “Don’t you live with that boy?”

  “That boy is my cousin, and yes, we live together, but I wasn’t in the mood for small talk this morning. Clay tends to do his own thing, anyway. He’s the only person who could get out of this without a note from the doctor.”

  “Ah, yes. He does have a mind of his own. And no, he’s not here yet. But he did RSVP yes.”

  “There was an RSVP?” I asked.

  “Yes, but don’t worry, I set a place for you.” Harold winked. “I’m not sitting through this alone. Word on the street is, we have you to thank for the event.”

  “Nora planned it, not me,” I grumbled. “I don’t know why I’m getting blamed for this.”

  Though I didn’t want to be here as much as anyone else, I wouldn’t have missed it, either. It could be useful to see who all showed up. Or more importantly, who didn’t. After all, I hadn’t had any luck with Oleg, I had no clue who’d followed me to Meg’s bar, and I remained clueless as to whom the crown belonged.

  Harold led me to the ballroom. I followed him inside.

  “You’re the last person to arrive, except for Clay,” Harold mumbled under his breath, as fifty or sixty people turned their heads to look in our direction.

  “Wonderful,” I said. “It’s unfortunate I didn’t dress to make an entrance.”

  “Lacey, that’s how you always dress.” Harold eyed my black pants, tank top, and shawl with a skeptical eye.

  “Hey, I dressed up a bit today.” I adjusted my sweater. “I didn’t go with a hoodie.”

  “Brava, gold star.” Harold winked. “Looks like they save
d us seats up near the front.”

  I exhaled a long, deep breath. The ballroom itself was huge – it had comfortably fit twenty or thirty guards for said yoga class, and the way the tables and chairs had been lined up in here today, it easily housed twenty or thirty additional bodies.

  The place resembled a standardized testing room, just like the ones from back when I’d taken the ACT or the SAT or whatever letters combined to make an acronym that spelled utterly-boring-and-useless-test.

  “Lacey dear, sit down. You’re late, and we’re about to get started.” Nora waved at me from the stage. “Come, I saved you a seat up near the front, since this was your idea.”

  My ears burned as most of the faces turned towards me, their expressions telling me exactly what they thought about my idea.

  “Wasn’t my idea,” I said, passing through rows upon rows of murderous gazes. “I promise.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Nora called from the front of the room. “Of course it was.”

  I managed to find my place near the front – in the seat of honor between Anthony and Carlos. Neither of them looked in my direction. Harold sat on the opposite side of Carlos, clearly trying to distance himself from me.

  “What are the chances I’m going to pay for this later?” I asked, leaning over to Anthony. “Pay in terms of anger from the guards and mean looks for the rest of the day?”

  “I’d say quite high,” Anthony murmured back.

  “Ugh.” I dipped my head down at the piece of paper in front of me. “Nobody looks very happy.”

  “Are you really that surprised?” Anthony raised an eyebrow.

  “Well it wasn’t my idea, I’m just getting blamed for it.”

  Anthony whispered in my ear, his voice sending a shiver down my back. “There’s a few perks to dating me. One of them is that none of the men in this room will bother you.”

  “They’re bothering me with their looks,” I said. “They look as if they’d like to tie me to a railroad track.”

  “You’re exaggerating.”

  “Am not.”

  Anthony glanced around. “Maybe you’re right. But don’t worry, they’ll get over it. This is far less painful than yoga.”

  On my other side, Carlos grunted. If these guards looked murderous now, Carlos had been beyond livid during the yoga class. At one point Ira had tried to adjust Carlos’s pose, and I’m fairly certain steam came off my grandfather’s head. A few questions on a piece of paper should be nothing compared to yoga pants and bright pink mats, right?

  “All right, you lot.” Nora held up a hand to silence the murmurings. “We’re all here to do a personality quiz. It’s standard practice for companies these days, and here at Luzzi Central, we like to stay on the cutting edge of trends and technology. So, I made up a quiz.”

  “She made it up?” I whispered to Anthony.

  “I heard that.” Nora shot me a disgruntled look. “Of course I made it up. Did you know Mr. Myers and Ms. Briggs ask you to pay for their exam?”

  “Yes, common knowledge,” I said. But I closed my mouth when Nora turned an angry expression on me.

  “That is blasphemy. Highway robbery.” Nora stuck a hand on her hip. “I’m a people person. A social butterfly, if you ask Carlos. I know people. I get people. I’m not wasting my money on a personality quiz, when I can make one that’s just as good. If not better.”

  “Of course.” I hung my head, deciding not to mention the whole penny-wise, pound-foolish adage.

  Seeing how Nora had transferred seven grand at the beginning of summer to a faceless Indian prince over the Internet, or that Carlos paid for outlandishly expensive haircuts at least once a week, I thought a couple hundred bucks for a personality exam wouldn’t break the bank. But then again, I wasn’t Nora’s accountant.

  “So, you have thirty minutes to complete the quiz. Are we ready?” Nora’s question ended abruptly due to a commotion at the back of the room.

  “Sorry we’re late,” Clay said, yanking open the ballroom doors.

  “We?” I asked Anthony. “Who is we? Everyone is already here.”

  “Everyone?” Anthony asked. “Everyone from the family, yes, but...” His statement hung in the air as my best friend followed my cousin into the room.

  “Hey, y’all,” Meg called. “Happy Personality Day.”

  “Lovely for you both to join us,” Nora called. “I didn’t have you on the RSVP list, Meg, but we had a few no shows, so there’s plenty of extra seats. Up here, at the front.”

  Meg blatantly ignored me as she waltzed past Clay, strutting through the rows of tables like a supermodel. She handed out winks to the guards like candy on Halloween, and even blew a few smooches their way.

  “Is this seat taken?” Meg pulled out the chair next to Carlos and plopped down before he could respond. “Great, this’ll work perfectly.”

  Carlos very slowly turned his head to look in my direction, his eyes featuring a blank stare. I shrugged, then looked past him.

  “Hey Meg,” I said hesitantly. I’d never been more nervous to speak to anyone in my entire life. My stomach clutched as I waited for a response.

  “Can you please tell your roommate I’m not calmed down yet?” Meg directed her statement to Clay. “I need more time.”

  “Lacey, Meg isn’t calmed down yet,” Clay said. “She needs more time.”

  “Can you tell Meg that I really would like to talk with her?” I smiled, ignoring Carlos’s confused expression.

  “I’m not playing this game.” Clay shook his head. “We’re all adults.”

  “Are we?” I asked. “Because adults speak to one another when they have a problem.”

  “Not this adult,” Meg said, pointing a thumb at herself. “Clay, tell that to Lacey.”

  “Children,” Nora’s voice broke up the argument. “We’re getting started. Flip over your exams. You have thirty minutes, starting now.”

  Silence settled around the room, with the exception of papers flipping and pencils scratching. I ignored Meg’s angry glare in my direction, staring at my own paper until she focused on hers.

  “This first one’s a toughie.” Meg scratched her head, her pencil hovering over the page. “What’d you put?”

  Clay covered his paper. “I’m not telling. It’s personal. I can’t answer it for you.”

  I watched the exchange out of the corner of my eye. When Clay declined to help, Meg’s eyes not-very-secretly wandered over to Carlos’s paper.

  “Stop cheating,” Carlos growled. “Do your own damn work.”

  “I don’t know the answer to the first question,” Meg said. “So I’m just using a lifeline. The Peek-At-A-Friend’s-Paper lifeline.”

  “We’re not friends. Lacey, tell Meg we’re not friends,” Carlos said to me, a threat in his voice.

  “Clay, tell Meg that Carlos says they’re not friends,” I murmured.

  “Silence!” Nora roared.

  “But numero uno is muy difficult-o.” Meg sighed, and read it aloud. “First Question: Would you rather confront someone with a problem or run away from it?”

  The entire room was watching our corner by this point.

  Meg threw up her hands in exasperation. “I wouldn’t do either. I’d stick a gun in their face and make them do what I want. Is there an option C?”

  “I think that leans more towards confronting,” I said. “Clay, can you let Meg know what I said?”

  Clay ignored me.

  “Tell Lacey to check the box that says she’d run away from her problems,” Meg said. “On account of she just doesn’t show up half the time. That’s basically running away.”

  “One time!” I hissed.

  “Ever since you got a boyfriend.” Meg shook her head. “What happened to you?”

  “I’m right here,” Anthony said. “Is there a problem?”

  “Yeah, you.” Meg looked at him. “You are the problem. Leave my friend alone.”

  Anthony looked at me, stumped into silence. I’d never known h
im to be stumped.

  “Well, at least you called me a friend. That’s something,” I said. “Clay, thank Meg for calling me a friend.”

  “Not a best friend, though. Say that, Clay.” Meg smiled. “Plus, Carlos is my new best friend.”

  “I’m not.” Carlos scratched an answer so hard on his test that he tore through three layers of paper.

  “Come on, buddy.” Meg put her arm around his shoulders.

  “Get.” Carlos took a few breaths. “Your arm. Off. Of me.”

  Meg exhaled loudly and removed her arm. She punched my cousin on the shoulder. “Clay, are you up for the job of becoming my best friend?”

  Clay shrugged, his expression helpless.

  “Fill out your papers, and stop talking,” Nora said. “Now.”

  The room lapsed into silence under Nora’s hawk-eyes.

  I rushed through my answers, half reading each of them, scratching out my first gut response. I finished the test in record speed, taking the remaining time to glance up at the other guards.

  I took mental stock of all who had shown up – Fede, Dom, Carlos, Harold, Anthony – things became extremely more difficult once I ran through the list of guards who worked in the main house. The men that patrolled the grounds rarely introduced themselves, and if they did, well, I couldn’t remember their names. All dark hair, dark skin, medium height – heavy on the muscles, light on the sense of humor – they sort of blended together after a while.

  Watching for any suspicious behavior proved to be futile, as well. At best, the guards stared at their papers with a mildly annoyed expression. At worst, they watched me through hooded eyelids, as if plotting different ways to get sneaky revenge on me that wouldn’t turn Carlos against them. This strategy wasn’t working.

  “Nora,” I whispered, waving her over.

  “Yes, Lacey?” she asked with a frown. “You’re not supposed to talk to the proctor, you know.”

  “Just this once,” I said. “Can you do me a favor and make sure everyone puts a name on their exam and hands it in before they leave? It’ll, uh, help you to do a better analysis of the personality types here.”