Andi woke up just in time to call in sick without getting into trouble, which was good because trouble was already waiting for her outside.
“This doesn’t have anything to do with Danny, does it?”
She could hear Sammy interrogating someone in their living room—and could sense from Sammy’s tone that her roommate’s arms were crossed. Andi groaned and stretched in bed. She’d taken some ibuprofen before she’d gone to sleep, but she was the kind of sore that only moving more would fix.
Why? Because she’d taken a three-hour nap in a sports car that morning.
“Are you sure? Because Danny is bad news, and we don’t want any of that around here.”
She sat up in bed, blinking awake and listening. Sammy was talking louder now—on purpose. To warn her.
“Don’t make me call the cops.”
Andi’s eyes widened. For Sammy to threaten that… She reached under her bed for her aluminum baseball bat. In a T-shirt and boxer shorts, she crept out to the living room, hugging one wall with the bat low. The hall was too narrow for her to take a proper swing, but she could take a decent golf stroke into someone’s balls if she had to.
“Like I told you, she’s asleep. I’ll pass your message along.”
“And like I told you, I’d rather wait.” Andi heard the other person for the first time and realized it was a woman. A ball-shot was off the table, but maybe a crotch-shot would do. She peeked out of the hallway and saw Sammy talking to someone with platinum blonde hair. “There she is,” the woman sitting on their couch said, turning. “Good morning, Miss Andrea.”
The only one who called her Andrea anymore now that her mom had passed was… “Who are you?” Andi stepped into the living room and swung the bat up to her shoulder.
She turned herself on the couch to face Andi. She was dressed in a short black dress that made the stark-whiteness of her face and limbs brighter, and the deep red of her lips more menacing. The only thing out of place on her was what looked like a tiger-claw on the end of a leather thong around her neck, tucked against her cleavage. She stood, her heels making her tower over Andi. “Your esteemed uncle sent me. He has recently returned to town and desires to have dinner with you this evening.”
Uncle Lee. She knew it. Andi groaned. “I’m going to work. I work nightshift. He knows that.”
“So?”
Nobody else needed to know she had other plans for the evening. “So…I don’t go out on school nights, Miss…”
“Elsa.”
“Thanks, Elsa. I’m sorry he sent you for me, but we’ll have to reschedule.”
Elsa paused, then redoubled. “It will just be a light dinner; you’ll be done well before your shift starts—”
“No,” Andi said.
“Yes,” the woman demanded, as though that made it so. Andi just stared at the woman, wondering at the gall of her, and Sammy started apologizing.
“She barged in here, Andi…I’m sorry…I’ll get my phone—”
Andi waved her aside. It wasn’t Sammy’s fault; her uncle’d been trying to micromanage her life for as long as she could remember—him and all his money. She didn’t think he meant to lord it over their poorer mother’s side on purpose; it was just how he was. Only unlike their absentee father, none of his gifts ever came without a price. It was why she still had student loans. She couldn’t stand the thought of him taking credit for her education until the day she died. Although she had contacted him when Danny’d run out on his hearing—because if her derelict brother ever did come back, he would need an amazingly expensive lawyer to stay out of prison.
But Danny’s problems were his problems. And she wasn’t going to give up her evening with Damian now—with no warning—at her uncle’s say-so. Andi set the baseball bat down on the back of the couch. “Look, lady, I don’t think you’re going to wrangle me out of here in spike heels.”
A smile fluttered across the woman’s face. “You’d be surprised.”
Andi snorted. She couldn’t imagine her uncle dating someone quite so…blonde. But she could imagine him being thrilled to boss someone like Elsa around. She squinted. “Are you his secretary?”
“Akin to one, yes.”
That explained it. If her uncle had told someone he’d hired to retrieve her, maybe they were afraid of getting fired if they failed him. Uncle Lee could also be a little bit of an asshole.
Andi held her hands out in a sympathetic fashion. “Okay…so, I’ve been dealing with him my whole life. And I know the whole impossibly bossy thing he does—he swans into town and then we’re all supposed to drop everything and go see him because he’s our uncle and who doesn’t like red envelopes?” Andi couldn’t remember how many Christmases and Lunar New Years Uncle Lee had saved just by showing up. “And I know he’s my family…and I do want to see him! But tonight is just not going to be that night, okay? I don’t know what he told you, but I’m sure he made me hanging out with him sound more important to your job than it really is. He’s not going to fire you if I don’t come back—swear. That’s just how he talks; I promise.”
Elsa frowned deeply. “Your uncle is the kind of man who gets what he wants.”
“Yeah, I know.” Andi pinched the bridge of her nose. “But right now, what I want is to heat and eat a frozen pizza and then go back to bed for a nap before work.”
Elsa considered this. “All right. When can we reschedule?”
Andi sighed. How about never? But if there was anything her mother’d beaten into her thick skull, it was the importance of honoring her elders. And with Danny on the lam, her uncle—as distasteful as his obsession with being worshipped was—was all she had left.
“Next weekend. I’m off.” That way she’d have time to brace for it. She’d listen to Uncle Lee talk about how important he was without ever explaining exactly why or how and tolerate him implying that she and Danny were ungrateful—both separately and together. She loved Uncle Lee; she’d known him her whole life, but he always acted like she was her brother’s keeper—which she disliked—plus, it felt weird to reach out to him when she never knew what time zone he was in. The last time she’d called instead of texted had been when her mom was sick, and he’d been asleep in Sri Lanka.
He had still picked up though—and he was practically family. So, next weekend she’d tell him more about the latest stupid thing that Danny had done, and he’d feel an even bigger man then because Danny—once he resurfaced—really would need his help. She could see it on his face now like a movie marquee—Uncle Lee riding in one last time to help the Ngo twins out.
It really was a shame Danny wasn’t around; first, because this was all his fault, and second, because he’d practiced enough to do a really stunning impression of their uncle.
Elsa typed very quickly on her phone, waited for a response, then returned her attention to Andi. “Very well. Your ride will be here next Saturday at seven o’clock. Try to dress appropriately for the occasion.” The woman gestured to herself as an example, and Andi resolved to wear fuzzy pajamas with feet.
“Sure,” Andi said. The woman stood, and Andi walked behind her, opening the door and seeing her out. She watched her gracefully take the flight of stairs and step into a car opened by a dapper driver wearing sunglasses even though it was dark out. But he wasn’t as dapper as Damian had been. Andi bit her lips not to smile.
When she returned, Sammy was holding a pint of ice cream.
“Man, what a bitch. I should’ve just called the cops to teach her a lesson.” Sammy dug into the pint with a spoon.
“What is this I’m hearing? Samantha O’Connor, admitting that sometimes the cops have a point?”
Sammy pointed at herself with the spoon. “I’m straight now, ain’t I?” she said in her Irish lilt, her curly red hair in a tangled bun atop her head. She worked at a mom and pop body shop now—entirely legit—a complete one-eighty from the underground and illegitimate one she’d worked at when she’d been dating Danny, helping him fence stolen parts. Dating Sammy had been the best thing her brother had ever done, and dumping him had been the best thing possible for Samantha.
Andi grinned at her roomie. “You are. And…she’s not worth it.” Andi sank down beside her on their couch. This wasn’t the kind of neighborhood where it was okay to call the cops—everyone here had a slightly guilty conscience due to one or more illegal side-gigs. Cops would make too many of their neighbors nervous, not to mention their landlord, if he learned of it. And cops in this town were the shoot-first-ask-questions-later type; she’d seen enough trauma cases at the hospital to know.
“I just didn’t think anyone dressed in so much designer-shit would be that rude,” Sammy said, shoveling a wedge of triple-chocolate fudge in.
Andi snorted. “The designer-shit makes them ruder.”
“Pro-bab-ly,” Sammy said around her bite, panting to not get a cold rush. “So how was last night? Everything you dreamed and more?”
Andi felt herself flushing. “I got paid well?”
“Cheers to that,” Sammy said, tilting the pint up at her. “I was getting worried when you didn’t come home in the morning.”
“Oh, no, it was a twelve-hour thing,” Andi said, covering quickly. “I didn’t know until I was there, though. I spent all night watching someone’s sick great aunt.”
“Easy money then, too!” Sammy proffered the pint out to Andi. “Is it ice cream for breakfast or dinner for you?”
On a normal day off, Andi would’ve totally joined her, and they’d have booted Netflix up for the latest serial killer documentary. But while she’d already called in sick, tonight would be anything but normal. “Ummmmmm,” she hedged, glancing at her phone.
In an instant, she had Sammy’s full attention. “You’re ditching me, aren’t you? And not just for work.” Sammy put her ice cream down and leaned over. “Why? Or rather…who?”
Andi fought not to flush. “It’s…I met…it’s not even a date.”
“Um, yeah, ‘cause it’s after eight, and you’re not ready yet—so it must be later—and later’s edging into booty-call territory.” Andi snickered, and Sammy went on the defensive. “What?”
“Say booty-call again.” Andi tried to say it like she did, booty with an emphasis on the boooo.
“Don’t think that making fun of my accent will get you out of telling me the truth, missy.”
“Then don’t be like that,” Andi said, sticking out her tongue.
“So, who is he?”
“A friend.”
“How’d you meet him?”
“Online,” Andi said—and she wasn’t even lying. She’d answered a Help Wanted ad after all.
“Oh, no, I never have time to date anyone,” Sammy said, doing a halfway decent impression of Andi, before squinting at her. “Okay, then, what’s your safe word?”
“What?” Andi’s voice rose impossibly high, remembering the green room full of exotic black leather furniture she’d run through on the way to the pond inside Damian’s castle.
“For when I call you later. To make sure you’re not going out with a serial killer.”
“Sammy, you watch too much TV,” Andi chided.
“Um, no,” Sammy snorted, then patted the empty space beside her on the couch. “Don’t make me dust this couch cushion for Andi butt-prints.” Andi laughed as she went on. “Besides, TV watching’s just like masturbation and drinking. It’s not bad for you if you’re not doing it alone.”
“I’m not sure about that, but okay, I give up,” Andi said.
“Good, so what’s it going to be? We should’ve set one up last night, too—I thought about it after you left.” Sammy swept up her phone.
“Uh.” Andi picked a word she never had reason to use. “Rambunctious.”
“Okay. I’ll call like twenty minutes in. If you start acting like I’m telling you there’s an emergency, I’ll play along, and if you say rambunctious, then I’ll call in the troops.”
Andi realized there would be no other way around this. “Fine,” she said, and rolled her eyes affectionately at the other woman, before walking back down the hall.
“Hey, wait!” Sammy shouted after her.
“Hey, what?” Andi shouted back.
Sammy apparently twisted on the couch and sat on the armrest, leaning out so that she could waggle her spoon at Andi. “If you get laid, I want details!”
Andi waved her away and ran back into her room to hide.
What did one wear when you were meeting a man-slash-dragon whose shoes cost more than your five nicest outfits combined? And where were they going tonight? She’d only seen him in suits and dress shirts—and without any clothes at all—but she’d feel awfully silly if she dressed up and he arrived in jeans. She ripped through half her closet in a fit of indecisiveness and wished that she could call in Sammy for a consult, but there was too much she couldn’t—no, shouldn’t—explain. She didn’t want memory erasing to be on the table for her best friend too. She’d shared everything with Sammy ever since she had moved in, so no wonder this felt weird now, but this was the kind of secret that was also a burden. Sammy had enough on her plate. If Sammy would even believe her—which was a stretch too—because would Andi have believed her if their roles were reversed? Hell no. She’d have probably thought Sammy had spent too long inhaling gasoline fumes.
In the end, Andi decided on wearing black capri jeans, comfortable chunky heels, a form-fitting blue top that matched the streak in her hair, and a black sweater that tied at the waist. Cute, but not sexy, because sexy might be foolish.
And then the doorbell rang, and she heard a thump. She glanced at her phone—it was only nine—and she didn’t think Damian would be early, but maybe Uncle Lee hadn’t taken no for an answer?
“I’ll get it!” she shouted and ran up the hallway to possibly head off another of her uncle’s emissaries at the pass.
She reached the door before Sammy had even gotten up off the couch, and peeked out the peep hole. There was no one there. She opened the door carefully and found a delivered box waiting. Sammy was always ordering car parts off of eBay…
“Sammy…” she began, pulling the box inside, but then found that it was addressed to her.
“What?” Sammy asked.
“Never mind. I forgot I ordered something the other day,” Andi said, walking quickly back to her room.
“Cute outfit!” Sammy hollered after her.
“Thanks!” Andi shouted back before closing the door.
There was no return address on the box, and the label was typed—no handwriting. But precious few people knew where she lived. She shook it, and when she didn’t hear anything thump inside, she opened it. Inside, under a layer of deep purple tissue paper, was a sleek black silk dress so soft it kept trying to slip out of her hands. It had spaghetti straps and it was bias cut so that one of her legs would show more if she put it on—it was the definition of sexy.
Was this Damian’s hint for his expectations about this evening? Or did he just want to make sure she didn’t embarrass him when they went someplace nice? She wanted to be angry at him for assuming, but as she slid the dress over her head and it fell around her perfectly, she found she couldn’t stay pissed. It was just that lovely.
She spent the rest of the time putting on makeup and doing her hair—running an iron through it so that it’s straightness would be even straighter; deciding between strappy black heels and gold heels—and picking silver flats instead—because most of her nice jewelry was silver. At 9:58, she went back into the living room.
Sammy’s eyes bugged out of her head as she clutched her heart in mock disbelief, and then she started dramatically rummaging through her purse.
“What?” Andi asked her.
“I’m pulling out my rosary to start praying for you. Forget serial killers. With a dress like that on, you’re definitely going to murder a man.”
“Sammy!” Andi laughed.
Sammy put her purse down and laughed with her. “No, seriously, why the outfit change?”
Because the guy I’m seeing wanted to see me in this? seemed a bit too strange to share. “I just felt like stepping it up a bit.”
“And when’d you get that dress?”
She’d forgotten that Sammy had already seen everything in her closet. “A while ago,” Andi lied—and the doorbell rang just in time to save her from any more awkward questions. Sammy gave her a smug look but stayed on the couch, and Andi could feel her roommate’s future snarky comments percolating.
With a sigh, Andi opened the door, there was Damian. He looked like he always did—competent and strong—but he was dressed rather…normally. Jeans and a T-shirt and a snug fitting leather jacket. He was still hot, but they were definitely dressed for different places, and at seeing her, he gasped.
“You look amazing.”
Between his expression of surprise, and the fact that he wasn’t taking credit for it, she could’ve hit herself. The dress was clearly from Uncle Lee’s henchwoman, meant for her to wear next weekend.
“Oh, God,” Andi said, backpedaling into the living room while turning red. “I totally misread things. I’ll go change—”
“No,” he said and caught her wrist before she could disappear. “I would be an idiot to not want to be by your side tonight.”
She slowed down, feeling the heat where his skin touched hers, flowing over and across her body like electricity. “Okay.” Her black clutch was on the nearby table; she picked it up and turned to him. “I’m ready.”
He let his eyes travel over her again, then smiled. “Let’s go.”
“Don’t get too rambunctious!” Sammy shouted after her as she closed the door.