The Lucie Rizzo Mystery Series Box Set 2, page 41
part #5 of Lucie Rizzo Mystery Series
“Yada, yada,” Tim said. “It’s a negotiating point for a later date. We’re establishing framework here.”
She gave him an eye roll. Were they really doing this? The little flutter in her belly sure thought so. “Fine.”
“For framework purposes, if I asked you to marry me and pop out some kids, you’d be okay leaving Chicago?”
She made a show of tilting her head one way, then the other.
“Luce, seriously? You’re breaking my stones now?”
“You can’t rush a girl.” When he shook his head, she squeezed his hand and tried to get to her tiptoes to kiss him, but her feet dug into the sand making her miss her mark. He helped by bending low, so she wrapped her hand over the back of his head and hit him with a smacking kiss. “I love you. And, yes, I’d leave with you. If that’s what you need to be happy, and you’ll support me in my business, we’ll make it work.”
Riding the high of talking about a future filled with a brood of O’Brien babies, Lucie made her way up the beach, her hand wrapped inside Tim’s and the sun warming her cheeks. Suddenly, the possibilities in her life seemed endless.
Mrs. Timothy Aloysius O’Brien.
Dad would have a heart attack.
Lucie Rizzo-O’Brien might be better. Still, an Irish last name? That’d be interesting.
Interesting and fun. She grinned up at Tim. When he locked his gaze on hers, that tiny flutter came back. Gosh, she’d gotten lucky. “I like this.”
“What?”
“Vacations with you. We’re both so busy at home, it’s nice to have quiet time and talk.”
“It is. We should do this twice a year. Even if it’s not the full ten days, maybe we break it up. Do four in the summer and ten in the winter.”
Yes. She could wrap her mind around that. When she worked in banking, she always planned her vacations at least a year out to snag the days before any other associates claimed them. Being an entrepreneur didn’t allow for a lot of free time. If she had one complaint about running her own business it would be the inability to turn everything off. When self-employed, there was no such thing as a day off. Always emails to tend to, orders to place, checks to write.
Except now. Now she had Tim, a sandy beach, and sunshine. And a future she hadn’t even realized she’d been dreaming of.
“You two!”
Uncle Henry stood on the boardwalk waving his arms. Primped and dressed to kill in black cotton shorts and a white button-down, the man looked sharp—relaxed, Florida sharp anyway—and ready for Tiki Night.
“Hey, Unc,” Tim called as they closed the last thirty feet.
“It’s after four. We gotta get in there before Lois Weinstein grabs the good spot. She’s a shady one.”
Lucie checked her watch. Four oh three. And Joey made fun of her about her obsession with keeping on schedule?
“Sorry,” Tim said. “We could have met you inside.”
Not bothering to wait, Henry started toward the club entrance, waving them forward. “Let’s go.”
“Wow,” Lucie whispered. “Tiki Night is no joke.”
“I guess this is what we have to look forward to in our old age.”
Lucie made an ick face. Lord, if her existence ever came down to beating Lois Weinstein to the good seats, she might never retire.
Twenty minutes later, Lucie understood the fuss. Retirees claiming their view of the ocean occupied every available inch of space along the outer deck rails. Henry, bless him, managed to commandeer the only table against the railing and his irritation at their tardiness came full circle.
The good table indeed.
Everywhere Lucie looked she saw gray hair and wrinkly, Florida-baked skin. Talk about bringing down the average age demographic. She and Tim were toddlers compared to them.
“This place is packed,” Lucie said.
“That’s why we had to get here early. Otherwise, we have to sit back there.” He jerked a thumb to the remaining tables situated against the windows. Behind all the crammed-in bodies blocking the view.
“My Mattie, she likes this spot.”
Lucie glanced at Tim, who’d managed to smile. His mother had been working him over about getting “intel” on Uncle Henry’s girlfriend. All Tim wanted was quality time with his uncle and his mom had given him an assignment. One he wasn’t too thrilled with since it put him between his mother, someone he liked to keep happy but wasn’t afraid to go against, and his uncle, whom he hadn’t seen in years.
This would be the ultimate test of the good detective’s mediation skills.
He picked up his beer, took a sip and tilted the end at Henry. “You’re really crazy about this woman.”
“What’s not to be crazy about? She’s beautiful and funny. And everyone loves her. You’ll see.” He circled a finger. “Every man here wants her. I’m beating them off with sticks.”
A senior smackdown. How fun would that be? “Sticks, huh?” Lucie leaned over and popped a light kiss on Tim’s mouth. “That could be dangerous. Do I need to be worried about Tim falling victim to her charms?”
Tim made a low humming noise that sent Lucie’s libido into high gear. Florida. A most excellent place.
“Not a chance,” Tim said. “I’m a one-woman man.”
“Woohoo,” someone cooed. Lucie’s mind snapped back to Ro making one of her grand entrances. Please, God, no.
Wait. It couldn’t be. First of all, this was Lucie and Tim’s vacation, a mere thirteen hundred miles from Chicago. Second, her BFF promised to supervise the business while Lucie took some downtime. And, Ro, being Ro, would never, ever go back on her word. Coco Barknell meant too much to both of them.
“Woohooo!” The voice came again, deeper this time with more of a rasp than Ro’s.
Not Ro.
Henry’s eyes widened, the glow enough to light an entire room, and he shot from his chair, literally hopping up to see over the crowd.
“Doll.” He waved.
Tim’s head swiveled sideways, his eyebrows hiking nearly to his hairline. “Doll? My mother would kill herself.”
“Ssshhh. He’s in love. Leave him alone.”
He gave her a soft pat on the thigh. “I’m gonna start calling you doll.”
Oh, no. No way. Babe? Fine. Honey? Even better. Doll? She’d skin him. “Not if you want to live, you won’t.”
He snorted before angling back for his first peep at Uncle Henry’s beloved. His relaxed features transformed into the tight lines of his all-business cop face. “Holy crap.”
Uh-oh.
Following his lead, she turned. An older woman with deep auburn hair—really big auburn hair—and a face full of expertly applied makeup pushed through the crowd, smiling and waving. She squeezed between two couples, and Lucie caught the full brunt of the leopard print top that clung to her boobs, revealing a mountain of cleavage.
No wonder Uncle Henry was beating men off. She looked like a cross between a high-end madam and a retired stripper.
Poor Tim swung back, his jaw clenched hard enough to crack a few teeth.
“Don’t say it,” she said.
For a moment, his eyes bugged out. Then his mouth opened and hung there. “I’m…shit. You know what I’m thinking, right?”
She sure did. Strutting toward them in second-skin white leggings and high-heeled sandals was Ro in twenty-five years.
Lucie squeezed his arm. “Just relax. Take a breath or something.”
“My mom will stab herself.” Tim lifted his hand, jabbed it toward his face. “Right in the eye.”
“Stop.”
“Holy crap,” he repeated as a bead of sweat dripped from him. Lucie handed him a cocktail napkin. Dab, dab, dab. He blotted the sweat bubbling on his forehead. “Luce, you have no idea. My aunt, his first wife? She was a saint. I mean, if she wore anything other than a turtleneck, she considered it improper. Covered from head to toe. We used to joke that she was a failed nun.”
Before Mattie reached them, she was intercepted. She met Henry’s eye for a brief second, the apology evident as a couple pulled her into a brief conversation.
“Mattie!” Another woman called.
All around them, a chorus of “hellos” and “Matties” sounded.
“She’s popular,” Lucie said.
Uncle Henry peered down at her, a smile still lighting his face. “I told you. Everyone loves her. She’s the best.”
After a day in the sun, Tim’s fair Irish skin had fallen victim to sunburn, but now the redness faded to a dull green. Between that and the sweating, Lucie put her hand against his cheek. Could he be sick? Maybe the crab cake sandwich at lunch?
“Tim? Are you okay?”
“I’m telling you,” he whispered, the words coming in hard punches. “She will stab herself.”
Lucie peered up at a smiling Henry. “Well, she might have to adjust.”
Three
Mattie broke free of the crowd and rushed toward Henry, her boobs testing the precarious boundaries of her stretchy shirt.
She reached her arms to Henry and folded him into Camp Cleavage. “Oh, my darling.”
Having spent nearly a lifetime with Ro, Lucie recognized a woman’s ability to make the most of her assets. Ro usually popped a few extra buttons to make a man fall in line.
Mattie wasn’t so subtle.
She pulled back and held Henry’s arms. “I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting.” She let go of him, swung sideways, and—whoa—Lucie couldn’t stop staring at her damned boobs. It was like a train derailment. Terrifying, but absorbing at the same time. They were just so…there.
“Hello,” Mattie said, holding her arms out. “You must be Tim and Lucie.”
When Tim failed to respond—gobsmacked by the rack, no doubt—Lucie slid from her seat to greet the woman.
“Hi, Mattie.” She stepped into Boobville, accepting a generous hug topped off with a little squeeze at the end.
Okay. So maybe Mattie was a lot. Maybe a little more than a lot, but she gave great hugs.
Lucie stepped back and spun to Tim. “Say hello to Mattie,” she chirped.
When he didn’t move, she latched onto his arm and damn near pulled him to his feet.
Come on, man, snap out of it. If it wouldn’t make a scene, she’d be tempted to pat his cheek. Knock some life into him.
“Right.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry. I was…”
Mattie took a step, obviously intending on laying one of her awesome hugs on him.
He made a strangling noise and Lucie considered running interference but was saved by a woman shoving between them.
“Hello, Mattie,” the woman said. “Great crowd tonight. Love your blouse.”
“Thank you, Lois. Are we still on for lunch next week?”
Ah. This must be the famous Lois Weinstein, scoping out a spot so she could commandeer the table if they abandoned it.
Not a chance, sister.
“Of course,” Lois said to Mattie. “You pick the place.”
“Doll,” Henry said. “take my seat.”
“Thank you, Henry.”
Henry slid to the empty chair he’d risked his life saving. “How was your day?”
“Oh, it was fine. You know. Same old thing.” She waved at someone, then met Lucie’s gaze. “I’m a decorator. Well, not a real one—although, they call them interior designers now. I just help out in the community. I have an eye for these things.”
Tim blinked. Had to be the leopard print tripping him up.
“That’s wonderful,” Lucie said. “My friend, Roseanne, is the same way. Some people just seem to know when something works. I don’t have that gift. Ro constantly tells me to stop the madness.”
Mattie let out a hoot and patted her hand against her heart, making her left boob jiggle. “I think I’d like this Roseanne.”
Mid-gulp of his beer, Tim half-choked, half-gagged and spewed the sudsy brew. Lucie jumped up and smacked his back hard enough to dislodge a lung.
“Are you all right?”
He cleared his throat and held up a hand. “Wrong…” Cough, cough. “Pipe.” Cough, cough.
He shook his head, exhaling a heavy breath. Poor guy. In Lucie’s nutty family, this wackiness happened on the daily. Tim? His peeps were normal.
At least until Mattie came along and evened things out. Heh, heh, heh. Finally, a weakness revealed.
Now, Tim understood, on a much smaller scale, the chaos one over-the-top person could create.
“Oh, my goodness,” Mattie said. “You scared me.”
Uncle Henry scooted his chair closer to Mattie. “Honey, are you okay?” He set one hand on her forehead, then moved it to her cheek. “Do you feel faint? Need some water?”
Tim’s mouth dropped open. Here he was, nearly dying in front of them—well, that may have been an exaggeration, but still—and Henry was worried about Mattie.
Making no bones about it, Tim lifted one hand and pretended to stab himself in the eye.
“Oh.” Mattie pressed both hands to Uncle Henry’s cheeks. “You are the sweetest man. Always taking care of me.” She dropped her hands, straightened her back so her boobs poked out a little more, and glanced at Lucie. “Isn’t he the sweetest?”
Lawdy, this woman. A lot. Between the big hair, the tight clothes, and the boobs, Lucie wasn’t sure where to look. And forget about Tim. He was gone. Completely fried. Lucie set one hand on his leg and squeezed. “Yes. Absolutely the sweetest. Well, next to Tim, of course.”
Again Mattie hooted and something about that laugh, the tinkling edge of it that screamed manufactured, put Lucie on alert.
In her lifetime, Lucie had seen a lot of women like Mattie. Ones who needed attention, any attention, from men and grappled for it however they could.
A waitress swung by and Henry ordered another round of drinks for everyone. Including four waters. Just in case Mattie felt faint again.
“Now,” Mattie said, “how was everyone’s day? Did you enjoy it?”
Lucie nodded. “I know I did. Particularly because it snowed at home today.”
“I remember those days. Freezing until June. I don’t miss it.”
“Where are you from, Mattie?”
“All over really. I lived in the northeast for a while and then headed south.” She looked beyond Tim. “There’s Eleanor. Eleanor!” She lifted her hand and waved. “Woohoo.”
“Hi, Mattie,” the woman called back. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yes?”
“Looking forward to it. We’ll hit that little shop on the boulevard for some lamps.”
Mattie came back to them. “I’m sorry about that. Eleanor is one of my clients. I’m working with her tomorrow. Her husband died—God rest his soul—six months ago and she wants to update the house. Give it a fresh look. Out with the old, in with the new.”
A pained noise came from somewhere in Tim’s throat. All eyes moved to him.
“Sorry.” He bumped the side of his fist into his chest. “Still got a little something stuck.”
“Ooh, which reminds me.” She ran a hand down Henry’s arm, stroking gently. “Darling, would you be able to feed and walk Aphrodite tomorrow? You know how she gets if her schedule is interrupted.”
Aphrodite?
“You know I will. Anything for you.”
While Uncle Henry and Mattie made gag-worthy extended eye contact, Tim leaned over, kissed Lucie’s cheek, and whispered. “Forget the eye-stab. My mom will kill herself. Bullet. Right to the head. Bang.”
“Thank you, honey,” Mattie said. “You’re just so sweet.”
Tim cleared his throat again. “So, Mattie. Aphrodite is your dog?”
“Yes. She’s a sweetheart. Henry helps with her when I have to be out of the house for an extended time.”
Excellent. A nice, generic topic to explore.
“It’s good that you have help,” Lucie said. “Dogs can be fussy about their routine. My company provides dog walking and the scheduling is serious business.”
“Lucie loves the dogs,” Tim said.
“Well, most of them. I do have my favorites I guess.”
“Otis,” Tim said. “The Ninja Bitches.”
Mattie’s eyes widened. “The what?”
Lucie laughed. “That’s not their real name. They’re Shih Tzus. Short on stature and big on attitude. They like Tim, though. They flirted with him the first time they met him.”
Lucie thought back to a year ago when a rash of dognappings had plagued her clients. That was the first time she’d met Detective Tim O’Brien. Back then she’d had no idea she’d fall in love with an Irish cop.
Tim ripped off a big smile. “What can I say? I have a way with women.”
“How adorable,” Mattie cooed.
Lucie had described Tim in many ways over the months.
Alpha.
Patient.
In-charge.
Adorable? Not so much. He’d hate that. Would more than likely rail about it all night.
On cue, he hopped out of his chair. “Excuse me.”
Henry eyed him. “Where you going?”
“Restroom,” he said.
“Didn’t you just go when we walked in?”
Uh-oh.
Lucie jumped in. “He drank a lot of water today. Hydration. It’s good for you.”
“With my prostate? Please.”
Another strangled noise shot from Tim’s throat. This must be the cross street between Tim’s version of sane and not.
Being accustomed to lunatics, Lucie had no issues holding up the conversation in Tim’s absence. “Henry, if you’d like, I’d be happy to help with Aphrodite tomorrow. If Mattie doesn’t mind, that is.”
“A professional dog walker? I’d never mind that.”
“But you’re on vacation,” Uncle Henry said.
“Yes, but I miss walking the dogs. I’m in the office most days now so I don’t get to see my buddies much. I miss out on all the love. Besides, I think Tim is planning on sitting by the pool tomorrow before you take us sightseeing again. He wants to relax a bit.”
Uncle Henry met Mattie’s gaze, then faced Lucie. “Sure. If you want. Maybe you can give me some tips.”
No sooner than Lucie closed the bedroom door did Tim point his finger at it. “That woman is not right for him.”
