Vampires and Sexy Romance (6 page)

“Oh—my—goodness...Mary and Joseph!”

“Hey, Shirley.”  Lucy smiled and took a seat up front, right across from her.

Shirley turned in her seat and just shook her head.  “I didn’t even recognize you, baby girl.”

“It’s just a little make up.”

“Shit!”  Shirley whooped.  Her green eyes jerking as she took in the sight of Lucy.  “It’s a hell of a lot more than a little make up.  You look like a completely different person.”

This made Lucy smile more than anything.  She wanted to be another person.  She wanted to be who she used to be.

“You wearing that to work?”

Lucy shook her head.  “Off today.”

“Then where in God’s creation are you goin’?”

“San Bernardino,” Lucy pursed her lips as a thought occurred to her, and Shirley‘s eyebrows knitted in consternation.  “You wouldn‘t happen to know when the next bus runs there, would you?”

~*~

Things ran smoothly.  No more than ten minutes after Shirley left her off at the bus terminal, Lucy boarded the bus to San Bernardino.  It wasn’t crowded, so she had an hour to sit and think, without anyone trying to strike up a conversation with her.

Every so many miles there would be a sign, counting down the miles to journey’s end.  At first those miles were trudging down far too slow.  It made Lucy feel more and more impatient.  But by the time the signs started ticking down from fifty, Lucy started getting nervous.  Butterflies from hell fluttered in her stomach, and her mouth felt dray as the bottom of Death Valley. 

But why am I getting nervous? 
She thought, chewing absently on one of her ragged nails. 
I can do this.  That sleaze bag is toast.  After I’m done with him...

But as each mile marker declared San Bernardino closer and closer, her nervous stomach, and her fidgeting hands got worse and worse.

Get a grip! 
Lucy pinned her shaking hands under her arms. 
This is nothing.  I can do this...I’m going to do this...

It’s illegal
, the mean little voice whispered.

So?
Lucy shot back. 
So is what he’s been up to.  Otherwise I wouldn’t be going to blackmail him with it.

Yeah, but...
Lucy held her breath, waiting for the mean little voice to finish. 
What if he decides to pay you off with a bullet in the brain?

Lucy’s entire body turned cold, every molecule in her stiffening. 

A bullet in the brain...

She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe. 
Sure, he’s a crooked lawyer, probably deals with thugs and hoods and...and gangsters?
  Lucy gulped at the thought of any of those kinds of people. 
But murder?  He’s a Lawyer, not a hit-man.

Lucy finally relaxed enough to shift in her seat and crack her aching neck.  Her arm and head were starting to hurt again too.

He’s like Daddy. 
Lucy scrunched her eyes closed at how wrong those words felt rolling around in her brain. 
He’s just a cheap, tacky version of...of him.  Yeah, sure.  He’s immoral and should be in jail with Daddy, but that doesn’t mean he’d...

“Kill me...”  Even as she said it, she couldn’t dispel the uneasiness, the uncertainty. 
Sure Daddy cheated the IRS, and probably his clients.  And he more than likely really did deal in slave labor.
Lucy still couldn’t wrap her heart and mind around the fact that her father had sold PEOPLE. 
But Daddy couldn’t have...he just couldn’t kill someone.  So crooked Frank Luvici wouldn’t either.

Of course he wouldn’t, princess. 

Lucy was getting pretty sick of that mean little voice.

THE AIR
smelled better, richer, the Sun was warmer, and just being back in her home town...correction, the city, made every step Lucy took better.  Her nerves were still there, but after she stopped at Starbucks for the first non-fat caramel-mocha latte she’d had in six months, and took that first, heavenly mouthful as the taste burst on her tongue, a surge of absolute certainty rose in her.

She would get what she wanted.  There was no two ways about it.

She was going to win.

Luvici’s office was on the third floor of a rundown brownstone building.  The elevator creaked and hadn’t been cleaned in about a gazillion years, but it was better than huffing it up three flights of stairs. 

Lucy wanted to look and feel calm and beautiful when she went in to blackmail Luvici.  She didn’t want to be breathless, sweating and worn out.

Plus, Luvici might like the whole sweaty thing way too much.

The foamed glass door had Luvici Law Offices in faded, peeling gold lettering.  The door wasn’t locked, so Lucy took a deep breath and walked through the door, flashing the young, blonde, bubble butted—and probably headed—secretary one of her most stunning smiles.

The blonde’s smile was sweet, but her eyes gave away a little
So, what do you want?
attitude.   

Lucy started to sidetrack around the secretary.  “I just need a moment of Mr. Luvici’s time.”

Unexpectedly the blonde maneuvered herself between Lucy and Luvici’s door.  “Sure, Miss.  But Frank...I mean, Mr. Luvici, is booked all day.”  She put her hands on her hips, and Lucy could see that she was going to give her more than a little problem.  Could Lucy just push past her?  The blonde’s smile was still Snow White perfect, but her eyes had a hard edge to them.

“But it’s important.”

“If it’s that important, then you’ll need to make an appointment.”  Obviously this wasn’t her first time rebuffing solicitors from her boss’s door.  “I think he has an opening in about two weeks.” 

Lucy put her hands on her hips and glared at the woman
.  Well, might as well throw out surprise number one.

Lucy put her hands up in mock surrender and then sashayed over to a small bank of waiting-room chairs lining the opposite wall.  Sitting down, she crossed her legs and shot the blonde her best smile.

“Miss, I don’t think you—”

“I didn’t catch your name,” Lucy cut across her.

“W-what?”

“Your name?  I don’t remember asking.  It was rude of me.”

The blonde got a startled expression on her face, making her smile falter.  Without the smile she looked five, maybe ten years older.  That alone could be why she was boning a schmuck like Luvici. 

She pushed away the fact of how her own looks had faltered, and in only six months time.

“Darla,” she mumbled before plastering a mere shadow of her former smile back on her face.  “My name is Darla.”

“Well, Darla.  Would you be so kind as to tell Mr. Luvici that Scarlet Jones is waiting for him?”

Darla shifted uneasily on her four inch, absolutely lovely Italian leather heels.  Lucy could see the gears spinning around in the blonde’s head.  She recognized the name, but couldn’t quite place it.  “Scarlet Jones?”

Lucy leaned back in the chair, making herself comfortable.  “Yes.  That’s the name.  I’m sure Mr. Luvici will want to see me.”

Darla opened her mouth to say something, but Lucy cut her off with a smile and a “Thank you so very much.”

The secretary turned and wandered back to her desk, looking very confused, her brain straining to put the name together with what information she’d forgotten.  It was like watching a science fiction movie robot short circuit.

Almost in slow motion Darla leaned over her desk and pressed down on the phone’s intercom button.  “Franky...I mean, ah…Mr. Luvici?  There’s a Scarlet Jones here to see you.”

There was a thud from the direction of his office.  A big one.  Like the sound of a body, or a bowling ball hitting the floor.  Darla rushed over to the office door and swung it wide open.  She gasped.

Luvici was on his butt on the floor, about a dozen papers scattered around him, his leather swivel chair rotated by itself about a foot behind him.  Luvici’s mouth was still slack jawed, a stunned gaze on his grizzled face.

And then recognition dawned over that ugly face, and an even uglier smile curled on his lips as he took in the sight of Lucy and her denim clad legs.

“Lucy Hart.  My, my...you’ve grown up so very,
very
nicely.”  He heaved himself up off the floor and brushed off his knees and pudgy bottom.  “Sorry about that, I misheard what Darla here said.” He squinted his beady brown eyes at his secretary.

“Nope,” Darla said, shrugging her shoulders and squatting primly in her way-too-tight skirt and started picking up the papers Luvici had dropped.  “She said her name was Scarlet Jones.”

Luvici turned and squinted his little weasel eyes at Lucy now, clearly not liking the turn things had suddenly taken.  He was over forty years old, had a full head of shortly clipped blond and gray hair, broad shoulders and a sagging chest that melted into a pronounced belly.  And though he was tall, and the shoulders and hair should’ve given the illusion of stature, his cheap rumpled dress shirt and tie made him look low rent.

But he did have pretty blue eyes, and if his smile wasn’t so lecherous, he’d be handsome. 

Lucy forced a beatific smile on her face as she said, “Sure did,
Franky.
  I really need to talk to you.  Alone.”  Lucy let her eyes flash to Darla, and then meaningfully back to him.

Luvici didn’t look happy.  Actually, he looked ill, and every second he stood there, squinting malignantly at Lucy, the redder his face got.  Finally he let out a big sigh and raked a hand across the back of his neck.

“Sure thing.  I always have time for Adam Hart’s little girl.”

Lucy stood up, closed her eyes for a second before walking into Luvici’s office.  She swung her hips as she walked, making sure he didn’t miss it.

By the time she turned around, Luvici was pushing Darla out the door, slamming it shut on his own thumb.  He cursed under his breath as he put his injured digit in his mouth.

He hurt himself because he couldn’t keep his eyes off me,
Lucy smiled with triumph.  She sat slowly, letting him get a real long look. 
Maybe this won’t be as hard as I thought.

The office reeked of cigarette smoke and vinyl office furniture.  Luvici’s desk was big, clunky, and made of painted green aluminum.  Tacky, much like Luvici himself.  Dust motes fluttered through the streams of sunlight coming through the window. 

He came around to his side of the desk and watched as Lucy crossed her legs again.  His grimy tongue slithered out from his mouth and licked his cracked lips. 

“So, little Lucy Hart...whatever can I do for you?”

First, never say my name again.

“I so totally need your help...the teensiest little favor.”  She batted her eyelashes at him.

“And what would that be?”  He leaned back in his leather chair, and was, as usual, undressing Lucy with his eyes.

Lucy quelled a shiver of revulsion and instead met his lecherous eyes with a cool  gaze.  “I need some of Daddy’s money.”

Luvici just sat there, his expression never changing.  “Money?” 

“Yes, I need some of the money you hid for Daddy.  I’ve got lots of stuff to get before I go to college.  And then there’s tuition money, new clothes...and a car.”

Luvici raised his hand to stop her.  “I’m sorry, Lucy, but what money are you talking about?”

She leaned forward conspiratorially.  “You know.  The money you saved from the IRS.  The money you hid...somewhere for Daddy...for when he gets out.”

She didn’t know how to tell if he was lying.  He was a professional liar, with a college education in advanced treachery, and had probably interned a few summers in double dealing.  But as he shook his head and looked at her, she knew all too well what was etched on his face: Pity.

Lucy bit her lip.  In the last six months she’d seen enough pity in people’s eyes to last her ten life times.

“He doesn’t have any hidden money, does he?”

“No,” Luvici said, smiling with the most infuriating empathy.  “
They
were thorough.  Seized everything he had before they even arrested him.”

“I see.”  Lucy felt like her chest was about to collapse.  All her renewed hopes and dreams were starting to fall apart around her like little black snowflakes, making her vision cloud up.  She shook her head, refusing to tear up again.  She was done crying.

If there isn’t any of Daddy’s money, then there’s always his...

She looked Luvici straight in the eye.  “Blackmail is such an ugly word.”

This got his eyebrows to furrow.  “I didn’t say anything about blackmail.” 

“I know,” Lucy said, “but since I’m about to blackmail you, I thought I’d bring it up.”

“You’re going to blackmail me?” Luvici practically chuckled.

“Scarlet Jones would probably love to learn how you skimmed an extra thirty percent off every contract you drew up for her construction consortium.”

Luvici smiled.  It wasn’t a friendly or generous smile.  It made him look like a hungry, feral animal.  She felt her flesh crawl, yet she pushed herself on.

“I remember Daddy saying Ms. Jones had a nasty reputation for reeking bloody vengeance on people that cross her.”

Luvici raised both hands, mimicking the gesture Lucy had used on Darla.  But he did it better. 

“Yes.  If I had it to do over again, I would’ve heeded the rumors about Scarlet.”  He sighed sadly.  “Beautiful creature, but so bloodthirsty.”

“Then you can see—”

“That’s why I’ve already made restitution—and then some—to Ms. Jones.”

Lucy sat there in a moment of shocked silence.  “What?”

“You see.  Your father already used that one on me.  That’s the only reason I defended him.  Friendship doesn’t go far in the real world.  Just—”

“Cash and good PR,” Lucy finished for him absently.

“You sound just like your father, sweet-meats.  Too bad you think just like him too.  But slower.”  He reached into a drawer and Lucy jumped as he pulled something out.  She was sure it would be a gun, or a knife, or a really big gun.  But it turned out to be a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.  He leaned back as he tapped out a smoke and then lit it up and drew in one, two, three deep drags from it.

“Would you like one?”   He held out the pack to Lucy.

Lucy grimaced.  “A world of no.”

“So, you see, I made sure no one else could use that one against me again.  And in the process, now I’m tapped out.  I couldn’t pay you anything even if I wanted to.”  He looked Lucy squarely in the eyes, and then winked.  “Not that I want to.”

Lucy reached into the folds of silk that clung about her breasts.  This got Luvici’s undivided attention.  The smile fell right off his face, replaced by a sudden rush of ruddy lust.  Even his ears were turning red.  Her fingers brushed across the cheap vanilla paper, and she caught it between her fingers, extricating Luvici’s business card from her cleavage.

She held it up, turning it so he could see the back of the card.  “Has your home number on here.  Wonder what the wife would think if I told her about hot little Darla out there?”

If anything, Luvici seemed to enjoy what she’d just threatened him with.  His smile turned down right grotesque.

“Knock yourself out.”  He said, “My wife doesn’t care if I screw every woman in California, as long as it’s not her.”

Lucy gasped a convincing “Oh...”  Though, truthfully, she hadn’t expected him to care.  The bit about Darla was just the set up.  The real hook was just around the corner.

“So, if you’re quite finished with this little extortion scheme, I’ve got work to do.”  He was just starting to stand up, his big, gnarled paws on his desk as his arms labored to pry him out of the leather chair.

“Think she’ll care about Kenny Fry?”

Luvici froze.  His expression didn’t change, but Lucy could see something pass behind his eyes.  “Kenny who?”

Okay, Lucy.  Nice and steady.

“You know, Kenny Fry.  He’s in my class, well...what used to be my class.  He was some kind of football hero.  Had a full ride to UCLA before he was even a junior, took the team to state two years in a row before he got injured.  Tore his knee right up.”

“I’m sorry, Lucy.  I really don’t—”

“You represented his family when they sued the hospital and doctors that couldn’t fix his knee.”  It was Lucy’s turn to wink at Luvici.  “Daddy said you tried every dirty trick you knew to get that family some money.”

“Well...yes, I remember now.  I tried my best.  But we lost.”

She leaned back into her chair and sighed.  “Yet somehow Kenny’s been riding around in a spanking new, candy-apple red Camaro all year long.”

“I have no idea how he’s paid for all that.  I just hope he isn’t doing anything illegal.”  Luvici tried to sound disapproving.