Amanda
It took us longer than anticipated to finish up at the Booby Bungalow. First, I had to change my clothes. Then I had to say goodbye to each of the girls. Finally, after more chatting, there were hugs given all around, time spent lingering in the vestibule, and promises to get together again soon. All in all, it took over an hour. In other words, it was a typical Pittsburgh farewell.
Tommy showed great patience and didn’t say a word as we walked to his truck. In high school, he drove a banged up red pickup with a dent on one side and a Smokey the Bear sticker on the back. It read, “Only you can prevent forest fires.” I know because I borderline stalked him for years. The truck he had now, sleek and modern, was still red, and, oddly enough, had the same sticker. Well, a newer version, but the same design.
A creature of habit, as well as a creature of hotness, he was ridiculously handsome. The man could set a forest on fire just by looking at it.
Watch out, Smokey.
Tommy opened the door, held my elbow as I got in, and then slid into the driver’s seat. He didn’t start the truck, though. He just sat there with his hands on the wheel. I waited until the silence between us felt awkward and I couldn’t take it anymore.
“So, how about those Steelers?”
Could I have possibly come up with a stupider question? But at least it earned me a smile. Tommy turned to look at me, his face illuminated by the flashing palm tree on the Booby Bungalow sign.
“So, how about that pole dancing?” he asked. “Sister Mary Agnes would not approve.”
“Sister Mary Agnes can suck it.” I slapped my hand over my mouth. “I didn’t mean that.”
Tommy leaned forward in his seat and peeked up at the starry sky. “Uh, oh. She’s dead, you know. That means she heard you. You’re going straight to hell, Amanda Cecilia.”
His words made me pause. “You know my middle name?”
He gave me an incredulous look. “Don’t you know mine?”
“Of course, I do. Tommaso Bernardo. I even know your confirmation name. It’s Salvatore. After your uncle or something.”
“Cousin, but I’m impressed.” He gave me a sexy, crooked kind of smile. It made my heart go wonka-wonka-wonka in my chest. Tommy’s smile had done that to me since before I even owned a training bra. “I don’t know your confirmation name.”
“Well, I wanted it to be Frances. I’ve always liked St. Francis of Assisi.”
“Because he was constantly surrounded by cute woodland creatures?”
“Exactly. But during our confirmation ceremony, I realized the person assisting the bishop was Mrs. Frances Wagner.”
“The woman with like twenty children?”
“Yes. She spoke to the girls at St. Alphonse each year about the evils of birth control, and how we should all plan to become happily married breeding machines as soon as possible.”
“She did not say any such thing,” he said with a laugh.
“It was close. Anyway, I saw her up there, and knew if I said I wanted the name Frances, she’d think it was because I wanted to be like her and have a million babies, so I panicked. I had only seconds and couldn’t come up with another name. You were standing right in front of me.”
“Alphabetical order.”
“Yep. Belfiore. Carmichael. Dragonsong. But Betty Carmichael was home sick with mono, so my turn came right after yours. When I heard you say ‘Salvatore,’ it stuck in my head and I automatically said the same thing.”
He tossed back his head and laughed. “Your confirmation name is Salvatore?”
“Yep. They changed it to ‘Salvatrice’ on my certificate. Worst name ever. Salvatore is cool, but Salvatrice? Ew. But, anyway, that’s why I remember your confirmation name.” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “Some of the other girls were jealous. They wished they’d thought of it first, because you were obviously the most popular guy in our grade.”
He started his truck. “I was not the most popular guy, but you were definitely the most talented person in the whole school. Maybe even in the whole city.”
I rolled my eyes. “I was a chorus geek who always got into trouble for breaking the uniform code. Uniforms never seemed to cooperate with me.”
He let out a laugh. “Do you remember that time your skirt burst into flames in chemistry class?”
“Yes, I do. Thanks for putting it out, by the way.”
“I got to put out the fire and see your panties. It was a pretty monumental moment for me.”
I eyed him carefully. “Tommy, you saw plenty of panties at St. Alphonse. The girls were all crazy about you.”
“But they weren’t you.” When he caught me staring at him, he looked away, clearing his throat. “How did you end up on stage tonight at the Bungalow?”
“The same way I ended up with a flaming skirt in chemistry class. These things just happen to me. Eliza had a custody case today, which she won, and before I knew it, I had Sex on the Brain and I was pole dancing.” I shook my head, laughing at the thought. “It was fun, but I’m not sure how good I’d be without vodka.”
He watched me out of the corner of his eye, a smile still hovering on his lips. “I forgot how funny you are. You’ve always made me laugh.”
“I’m glad.” I never knew Tommy, or anyone else, thought of me as funny. Then again, there was a fine line between funny and weird, and I was pretty sure I had crossed it many times.
“But what do you mean by having sex on the brain?” he asked.
We arrived in front of my house, and Tommy parked in the circular driveway. A fountain gurgled nearby in the carefully manicured garden, a space resplendent with topiary shaped like dragons. It was kind of a thing with us. With a last name like Dragonsong, it made sense.
I opened the door to Tommy’s truck and hopped out before he could make it to the other side and do it for me. “Goodnight, Tommy,” I said. “Thanks for the ride.”
I expected him to leave, but he followed me up the walkway to the house. “You never answered my question.”
“What question?”
“The one about having sex on the brain.”
I shot him a coy look. “What do you think I meant?”
He shoved his hands into his pockets and blushed. “I don’t know.”
“Sex on the Brain is a drink. A dangerously tasty drink with lots of vodka that makes me do things like pole dancing. It was not a good idea. I have regrets. Especially since you walked in at the worst possible moment.”
“Or the best possible moment.” He gave me one of his trademark sexy half smiles. “Good night, Amanda Cecilia Salvatrice Dragonsong.”
“Goodnight, Tommaso Bernardo Salvatore Belfiore.”
He chuckled as he walked back to his truck, and I watched him pull away with a sigh. Some things never changed. Tommy was still beautiful, and I still acted like a total loser every time I saw him.
I was about to go inside the house when I heard rustling in the bushes near the front door. I froze, taking a step backward. Someone was only a few feet away, watching me. I couldn’t see them clearly, but I knew they were there.
Footsteps sounded inside the house and the front light came on, bathing the porch and much of the front garden in its glow. I put a hand to my chest as a dark figure shot out of the bushes and ran across the lawn. Seconds later, the door opened. My father stood in the foyer wearing his robe and pajamas, and I flew into his arms, my whole body shaking. He brushed the hair out of my eyes.
“Amanda? Are you okay? What happened?”
I pushed him inside and locked the door. “Someone was out there. They ran away when you turned on the lights.”
“Who?”
“I’m not sure.” I chewed on my lip, suddenly way too sober. “But I have some suspicions.”
He studied my face, his gaze piercing. “Is there something we need to talk about?”
Could my problem have followed me all the way here from California? I had no idea. My dad waited for my response.
“We should probably call the police first,” I said.
The police arrived a few minutes later. Before I could tell them what had happened, Tommy burst through the open front door. “I heard the call on my scanner,” he said, his eyes worried. “Are you okay?”
I pushed my glasses up my nose self-consciously. “There was someone outside in the bushes. My dad turned on the lights and they took off.”
“Did you get a good look at them?” asked the officer.
I shook my head. “I saw a dark shape. I know it was a man, but I can’t be certain of anything else.”
The policeman looked at Tommy. “You’re Anthony’s younger brother, right?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see anything when you were here? Anything unusual? Any people lurking around?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“We’ll take a look outside. Hopefully, it was just a kid doing some kind of prank. Halloween is over, but the fun doesn’t stop. We’ll be right back.”
Tommy, my dad, and I went into the kitchen. My dad poured us hot cocoa with marshmallows, which made me feel about five. He studied me speculatively over the rim of his cup.
“Did you have anything you wanted to tell me, Amanda?”
My cheeks burned. I shot a look at Tommy, and then back at my dad. “No, not right now.”
“I’m sorry,” said Tommy. “If you’d rather be alone—”
“No,” I said. “We don’t want to be alone. But please don’t feel like you have to stay here and hang out with us.”
Tommy lifted an eyebrow. “Should I stay or go?
“Stay,” said my father. “I may need witnesses.”
The two police officers came back to the front door. “We didn’t see anything suspicious but lock your doors and windows and be careful. Don’t hesitate to call us if you need anything else.”
After they left, my father shuffled back to the kitchen. I stayed with Tommy in the foyer.
“I’d better go,” he said. “I have to work tomorrow.”
“Me, too.”
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Well, at least you had an interesting first day.”
“I sure did,” I said with a laugh. “I can’t wait to see what happens tomorrow. I’ve never had an actual job before. Not like this, I mean. My work was…different.”
“The singing stuff?”
“Yep. The singing stuff.”
He waited, like he assumed I might say more, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. Instead, he opened the front door and stepped outside, turning to face me. Since he stood on a lower step, I was almost at eye level with him.
“Be careful, okay?”
“I will. Thanks for driving me home, and for coming back, and for checking on us.”
He gave me a swift, sweet kiss on the lips. “Goodnight, Amanda. Go inside now.”
I did as he said, leaning against the door after I shut and locked it. What the heck had just happened? And why had Tommy kissed me?
Eliza came downstairs in her white silk nightgown and saw me standing by the door. “What happened?” she asked. “I just saw a police car pull out of our driveway.”
“It’s a long story. We should go to the kitchen. Dad’s making cocoa.”
We sat at the large island in the middle of our kitchen. My father gave her a mug, and I told Eliza what happened. She sipped her cocoa calmly as she listened.
“What time did this occur exactly?”
I looked at the clock on the wall and frowned. “About half an hour ago. Why do you ask?”
“I’m making a list of potential suspects.”
“We have potential suspects?” asked Dad, raising one eyebrow.
I didn’t say anything. I stared at the marshmallow slowly melting away in my cocoa. When I looked up, both of them were watching me.
“What?” I asked.
Dad leaned back in his chair. “There is something you aren’t telling us, and I’m wondering if it has anything to do with the reason why your mother texted me…” He pulled his phone out of the pocket of his robe and looked at it. “Thirty-seven times today.”
“Thirty-seven? That’s a new record.”
“And thirty-six of those were threats. Why haven’t you called her yet?”
Looking skyward, I tried to formulate an answer that wouldn’t worry them. It wasn’t possible. “Celeste got me into a bit of a mess.”
“What kind of mess?” His calm voice belied the flash of anger I saw in his amethyst eyes.
I shifted in my seat. “Well, it sort of involves a broken contract. And Vegas. And some tigers. And a stalker. And maybe even the leader of an organized crime ring.” I lifted my hands in the air. “In other words, business as usual.”
Dad got up without saying a word and grabbed the Kahlua. After pouring a generous amount into each of our cups, he leaned back and took a long sip.
“Start talking, Amanda. Is it as bad as it sounds?”
I considered his question and answered honestly. “It’s worse. You might want to keep the Kahlua out. We have a lot to discuss.”