“I understand about the staffing issue. Let me make that better. How about this; I’ll recruit elsewhere, but I’ll share with you, too. I heard about a great dealer school in Salt Lake City. They’ve been turning out fantastic talent.”
Moretti looks like he’s munching a porcupine. “What about all the dancers?”
That takes me by surprise. “I haven’t been taking your dancers.” My fists bunch. I’m reacting to the accusation. That’s not smart.
I shift tack and tell him, “McQueen is my brother-in-law. He might help you out with dancers.” Lucas’ eyebrow goes up and he inclines his head, like he might be graceful enough to accept the favor as a concession. I lean forward and my voice lowers to a growl. “But make damned sure that your goons stay the fuck away from Lucy.”
He seems unruffled, but the skin under his collar darkens. “Is she family now?”
I tell him, “She’s under my protection. That’s all you need to know.”
After that, I take Dad’s cue and shut up. But we’re pretty well done here.
On the way out, Dad says, “You handled that well, Paul. I’m proud of you.”
I tell him, “I don’t trust that fucker. I never will.”
But I have something more important on my mind.
As we get into the car, he asks me, “Are you serious about this girl?”
“You bet I am. But she might not have me. After that bullshit, I couldn’t blame her if she ran a mile away. That’s really not the point, though.”
“The code, Paul…”
“Listen, Dad, fuck the code. The code didn’t stop them from taking her. And if Lucy turning me down makes her fair game, then I don’t give a fuck about the code. She doesn’t deserve this, Dad.”
He says quietly, “Oh.”
“What, Dad?”
“You really are serious about her.”
Chapter Eleven
Lucy
I can’t go to the O’Malleys’ compound. JoJo wants to see me, but I feel so confused and so bad that I can’t even face seeing her. I have got to get clear in my head.
In a way, having to clean and straighten up my poor little apartment is a blessing. The physical labor takes my mind off the situation. Plus, I have to throw almost everything I own away. It’s all been trashed. So, this is going to be some kind of a new start, one way or another.
The last thing to clean up in the living room is the smashed flower basket. I scoop the sad, smashed top hat basket, the flower stems, and the petals all onto a towel and lay it out on the kitchen table. Somehow I’m not ready to put it in the trash.
Whatever I do, I can’t shake the nagging thought that I should have kept faith in my mystery admirer. I know that it’s nonsense. He never promised me anything. However long it’s been, if he hasn’t showed himself yet, he’s probably never going to.
Before I sink into a funk, I tell Thomas to take me to King Pine. I want to be where Paul has been. Where he’s been happy.
The bright lights are almost enough to shake me out of my gloom, but I overhear a croupier talking to a bartender: “Nobody knows. There are only rumors from the hospital. But we all hope he’s going to be okay.” And she leans across the bar to take the bartender’s hand.
Thomas shadows me all over the casino. Everybody here seems so concerned about Paul. It’s obvious that they all have a lot of affection for him.
I don’t remember any of my employers making the staff feel this way about them.
Being here just makes me feel even more guilty. It’s not a time when I can play games to distract myself. I won’t drink alone. The pizzas here are great, and there are fantastic pastries, but I don’t even have an appetite.
I ask Thomas to drive me home. Going back there is hard. The apartment I waited so long to get will always include the memory of the break-in. Those three men.
But if I leave, I’ll lose the memory of the night before, too.
Should I have waited, held off for my mystery man? What JoJo said makes perfect sense. My mystery man, my guardian angel, is nothing but a dream. Unless he pops up at my door, I should leave him as that.
But I’m not tough enough for a relationship with an O’Malley. I’ve loved being around them all, and Paul really is a dream come true. But for me it’s just that, a dream.
He’s ready for me. JoJo and all the O’Malleys are ready to accept me. But it’s time to confess that I don’t have what it takes to live in their world.
Thomas pulls into the lot in front of my apartment.
Paul stands at the doorway. My hero, with a bandage on his head.
I can’t stop myself running to him, even though I feel so guilty. He’s holding a huge bouquet of flowers, in a basket shaped like a top hat.