Dog Collar Knockoff (12 page)

Joey slid a hard glare at Lucie then went back to Tim, grudgingly shaking his hand. “Joey Rizzo.”

The two had quasi met a few months back when O’Brien had been investigating Lucie’s dognappings. She didn’t recall any words actually being exchanged, but there’d been a load of posturing on her brother’s part. All she remembered was Joey doing the silent don’t-screw-with-us routine. Total charmer, her brother.

But hey, at least this time he’d shaken Tim’s hand and actually said something. Progress. Even if it was only two words.

“Where were you?” Lucie asked.

“I… uh… out.”

Yoi. Probably making collections at the bar. Something he couldn’t readily admit in front of law enforcement. “Okay, then. Great.” Lucie jerked her head. “You can go on inside now. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Good to meet you,” Tim said.

“Right. You too.”

Excellent
progress!

Joey moved past them and let the screen door smack behind him—a sure sign of rebellion over the fact that Lucie had been out with the enemy.

But Tim was unfazed. He stood, broad shoulders comfortably back, with a big ole grin on his face.

“Nice guy,” he said. “I think we’ll get along well.”

Lucie snorted. Down deep, her love for Joey had grown over these last few months. As annoying as he could be, he’d been there for her. Helping her with the dogs, lugging supplies, and yes, saddling up to get his baby sister out of trouble.

“He’s a good guy,” Lucie said. “Protective of the women in his family. He’d be that way with any man.”

Aside from Frankie.

“I’m sure it doesn’t help that I’m a cop.”

“Ya think?”

The only cops, outside of Tim, who had ever set foot on Rizzo property were the federal agents keeping tabs on her father and Joey and the goings on in the Rizzo world. Her brother’s only crime, to Lucie’s knowledge, was running his bookmaking business. From childhood, their father had warned him off life as a mobster, and Joey was too terrified to go against his wishes. And whether he wanted to admit it or not, Lucie didn’t truly believe her brother had the stomach for mob life.

The porch light flashed off then back on again and Lucie rolled her eyes.

“That would be my cue to go inside and kill my brother. Since you’re a detective, you might not want to be here for that.”

“Homicide isn’t my area anyway.”

Ha. Good one.
After years of being so serious about every damned thing, Tim O’Brien brought a lightness to her.

“Thank you again,” she said. “You have no idea how much I needed a fun night.”

He leaned forward and the porch light flipped on and off again. Three times. Now she’d had it. She half turned to the door. “Joey! Quit it! Go to bed, you animal.”

Her temper didn’t fire that often, but when it did, look out. And more often than not, Joey was the cause.

“Hokay,” O’Brien said after her outburst. “I’m gonna go.”

She shifted back. “I’m sorry.”

He cracked up and ran his hand down one side of his face. “You guys are a riot.”

Quickly, before the light could flip off, he kissed her. On the cheek.

Dammit, Joey!
She wouldn’t have minded a little smooch from the hunky detective.

Right now she had bigger issues.

Leaving Tim standing at the base of the stoop, she slipped through the front door, and feeling a little wistful after a nice evening, offered up a little finger wave before closing it.

Now the war will start.

She wheeled around, found Joey the Snoop—formerly known as Joey Big Ears—standing near the steps. She jabbed her finger at him. “Are you insane? What am I five? Don’t you ever pull that stunt again. How humiliating.”

“He’s a cop!”

“So what?”

That knocked him back a step and his jaw flopped open. “Seriously? What don’t you get about this cluster?”

“Yes. Seriously. He’s a nice guy. We get along. And, hey, I
like
him.”

“What about Frankie?”

“He dumped me.”

Joey waved both hands. “You’ll get back together.”

Historically speaking, maybe. Now, who knew? “You don’t know that.”

“You’re giving up on Frankie for a cop? Dad will shit himself.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll get your fun telling both Dad and Frankie about this. Enjoy it while you can.”

“You think I’m gonna tell them? You’re crazier than I thought. Nuh-uh, baby, that’s on you. I’ll just sit and watch the action.”

She slid her purse off her shoulder and waved it around. “I knew if you saw him you’d be a jerk about this. I should have met him somewhere.”

And how fair was that? Now she couldn’t bring a friend over? This life. Total killer.

“Wait,” Joey said, his eyes shooting crazy wide. “Just hang on one second. You wacky broads cooked up that whole thing with Roseanne earlier, didn’t you?”

“Oh, just stop it.”

Joey gritted his teeth and jerked his head. “I can’t believe it. Witches. I’ll give you props though. When I got there, that lunatic had her foot stuck in a hole in her front yard.”

That’s a good friend
. Ro had actually dug a hole and shoved her foot in there.

“I had to dig her out with a garden spade. What an actress! All to get me out of the house. And I find this out now, after…”

He broke off. Gritted his teeth.

“What?”

Not for anything, but Joey was taking this way too hard. All they’d wanted was to get him out of the house. Really not that big of a deal. At least she didn’t think so.

“Nothing,” he said. “It just
sucks
that you two cooked this up and lied to me.”

Oh, please.
Lucie flapped her arms, waved them like the crazy person she might be. “Because I knew this is how you’d behave.”

“Hel-
lo
.” This from Mom marching down the stairs in her robe, her chestnut hair plastered down on one side. “Do I need to remind you that it’s midnight and I happened to be sleeping? At least until the two of you started screaming.”

“Ma! Your daughter is dating a cop.”

Mom frowned as she hit the bottom step and came eye-to-eye with Joey. “How is that your business?”

Go. Mom.

“Yeah,
Joey.
”
Very mature, Luce. Very mature.

Joey threw his arms up. “Sure. Take her side. You’re both nuts. You know what? I’m goin’ to bed. I’m the only one around here with enough sense to see what a train wreck this is.”

On his way by their mother, despite his comment about her being nuts, he smacked a kiss on her cheek. Total mama’s boy.

“Sorry we woke you. I love you.”

“I love you too, Joseph. Good night.”

Mom waited until Joey slammed his bedroom door and turned back to Lucie. “A police officer? You’re kidding?”

Lucie grinned. “It gets worse.”

“Oh, Lord. Tell me he’s involved in investigating your father.”

“No. He’s Irish.”

“Well, that should make for interesting Sunday dinners.”

*

The following morning,
Lucie walked along the sidewalk in front of the Bart Owens Gallery with a dopey smile on her face. For the first time in months she felt… decent. Happy, even. Her cell phone rang. Ro. “Good morning, my soon-to-be Academy Award-winning girlfriend.”

“Hey, girl, I do what I can. Where are you? I’ve got samples to show you for our new headquarters.”

Samples. Oh. Yay. Sometimes, Lucie just wanted Ro to do it. Not involve her. This would be one of those times. How many variations of one color could she look at? “I told Bart I’d walk Oscar for him.”

“It’s Saturday.”

“I know, but Bart is out of town today. It’s not a big deal. I’m doing the morning walk and Lauren’s handling this afternoon. I should be done by nine-thirty. Want to meet at the store?”

“Sounds good. That’ll give me time to get my fabulous on.”

“I’ll look forward to that.”

“You know it. How’d it go last night? Did you get lucky?”

“Yes. But not in the way you’re implying. You have a filthy mind, my friend.”

“Oh, come on. I’m divorcing my husband. I’m entitled to a little filth as a distraction. Do tell.”

“What’s to tell? He’s a nice guy. He’s…”

What?

Cute. Sexy. Funny. Said all things that made her think about a panty drop? Check. Check. Check and, oh, yes,
check
. “He’s different.”

“As in, he’s not Frankie?”

For sure that. “Definitely not Frankie. He makes me feel… comfortable.”

The second the words left her mouth, Lucie winced.

“Bah!” Ro said. “Comfortable. What the hell does that even mean? Listen, honey, I married the comfortable guy, and I just busted him banging a stripper.”

“All I meant was he’s easy to talk to. There’s no judgment. He just listens and then gives his opinion. And it’s kind of nice to have a conversation and not have everything I say be used as a weapon.”

Wow. That was an interesting reveal. But apparently those feelings had been making a run for it because they shot free pretty easily.

“You like him,” Ro said. “Good God, Luce. He’s a cop.”

“I know. I don’t care. I think we’re getting together tomorrow.”

Ro sighed. Lucie knew how she felt. A little conflicted and confused. “Well, if it’s what you want, then enjoy it. Just be happy.”

Who knew what she wanted? All she knew was she didn’t want to fight anymore, and for one night, Tim O’Brien gave her that. “We’ll see. It’s early yet. By the way, Joey is not happy with us.”

“Ooohhh-weeee, don’t I know it. He sent me a
wicked
text last night. That thing should have fried my phone.”

Lucie gasped. “Did he really? I’m so sorry.”

“Please. I told him to get over it because he was only proving your theory that he’d be an idiot about the cop.”

“He must have loved that.”

“He swore at me. Via text.” Ro giggled. Giggled? “He’s straight up nuts, but he makes me laugh.”

Eww. With a divorce imminent, the idea of Ro and Joey… just eww. “Um…”

“What?”

Not my business.
“Nothing.”

“Then I’ll meet you at the store around 9:30 and we’ll look at samples.”

“Thanks, Ro. For everything. I love you.”

“Back at ya, babe. Later.”

Stowing her phone, Lucie cut down the alley to the back door leading to the gallery’s office. She unlocked the door and readied herself for the requisite leg humping from Oscar the kink. Imagine if the dog hadn’t been neutered?

Once inside, she spotted the gallery door open—odd, considering Oscar wasn’t allowed in the gallery without Bart present. Where the heck was this dog?

“Oscar?” she called. “Here boy.”

The tippity-tap of nails echoed in the gallery. Oh, darn it. That dog would be toast now. Bart must have forgotten to secure the door.

“Lucie?”

Bart’s voice. She cocked her head. Had she mixed up the date? On the one morning she wouldn’t have minded staying in bed a little longer. Sheesh.

And yep, Bart swung around the stairway and headed straight for her with Oscar the perv scooting around him. Lucie bent at the waist, held her palm out low. “No humping, Oscar.”

The dog came to a stop, gave her a sniff and planted his butt. “Good boy. Stay.”

She pointed at him, made sure he knew she meant business, then straightened up and faced Bart. “Hi. Did I mix up the date? I thought you were gone today.”

He smacked himself on the head. “I’m so sorry, Lucie. I forgot to tell you my plans changed. I don’t know where my mind is lately. I won’t need you today. Obviously, I’ll pay you for your time.”

At least she hadn’t been the one to make the mistake. All in all, not a big deal. She waved the suggestion away. “Thank you, but that’s not necessary. I needed to be up anyway to review some samples for my new office.”

“Wonderful. How’s that going?”

Oscar came out of his sit/stay and sniffed her shoe. If he made a move toward her leg, she’d lose it. “It’s going well. I’m excited. It should be ready in a couple of weeks.”

“Congratulations. Your business is taking off. It has to feel good.”

“Yep. After being downsized, I took a good bounce.”

Bart sat behind his desk, grabbed a stack of folders from his inbox and rifled through them. “A bounce you made happen. And my offer still stands. If you have any other clients needing artwork, I’d be happy to offer you a commission.”

The prior night’s conversation with Tim, the one about how he always followed his gut, came back to her. Concern over the Bart situation had been nagging her, making her wonder if he was into something not-quite-legal.

And bringing her in on it.

Can’t have that.
Not with her business growing. No risks to her reputation could be taken.

“Thank you, Bart. I appreciate that. The extra money will come in handy for my business. I’ve worked hard to become my own person. To separate myself from my father’s lifestyle.”

Bart cocked his head and smiled in a greasy salesman sort of way that made the hairs on the back of her neck dance. He went back to the folders pulling one from the bottom of the stack and then scooted to the lateral filing cabinet behind him. A key stuck out of the lock on the cabinet and he twisted it, opened the drawer, filed the folder, and relocked the cabinet before turning back to her. “Lucie, you’re such a dear. It has to be difficult dealing with your father’s troubles. I completely understand. Whatever I can do to help. Just let me know.”