Page 27 of Working for the Mob

“She has a job to do, and she needs to do it. This is how she’s paying rent,” I said, coldly. I wasn’t going to let Lance move in on her just because he found a shiny new toy.

“Now, listen here, Art––” Lance said, but Genevieve cut him off.

“No, it’s alright,” she said. “Can you pick up Lucy, down at the café? She’s had the same day as me, but she’s been on her feet the whole time. I’m sure they’re hurting her, and I’d feel a lot better if you drove her home.”

Lance paused. He wasn’t used to being told ‘no,’ and I enjoyed it.

“You did say that you’d doanything,” I interjected. “Do you still feel that way?”

He looked from me to Genevieve, and his cocky smile returned. “Of course. I’d be glad to give Lizzie …”

“Lucy.”

“Right. Her, a ride.” The usual suave was absent. “Well, Genny, I’ll be seeing you around then.”

“Thanks, Mr. Necci.”

“Call me Lance,” he said, and nodded to us. I didn’t miss the warning glare he shot me before he put on his hat and exited the room.

Genevieve turned back to her work. She still blinked her bloodshot eyes more than normal, but didn’t look at the point of tears.

I don’t know what I’d do if I found out that my whole life savings was gone, and I was stuck in a new town by myself.

“I can drive you home,” I said, surprising myself. “And we can go a little early today. You started before me anyway.”

“That’s alright,” she said. “I enjoy the walk. Especially in this weather. And you’re right. I have a job to do, and I need to do it.”

“Alright, but I’m walking you home if it’s dark,” I said.

Genevieve looked out the window and then to me. “Fine. This town has already stolen my clutch. I don’t want them to steal anything else.”

I didn’t respond to her. She wasn’t completely right. The man who stole her clutch wasn’t from East Lannington. He was an outsider. But she considered herself so far above this town that she didn’t see a difference.

???

Those were the last words we said to each other all afternoon. When five o’clock finally rolled around, the sun hadn’t completely set, but it was dark enough for me to make the excuse to walk her home.

“Do you think that Lucy’s already left, or should we stop at the café first?” Genevieve asked. “I’m not sure whether she would actually take a ride home with your brother or not.”

“Give me a second,” I said and picked up the phone.

“For Pete’s sake, not another work call?” Genevieve asked, and I held up a finger to silence her. She narrowed her eyebrows and opened her mouth to say something else, so I turned to face the window.

The line rang a few times, but no one picked up. After the fifth ring, I set down the phone and faced a red-faced Genevieve. “No one picked up at the café. They must have gone home by now––they close at two.”

“Oh,” she said, in comprehension.

“Are you ready to go?” I asked, and put on my jacket.

“Actually, I changed my mind. If you give me a ride home, can we make a couple of stops first?” Genevieve asked, and flashed her doe eyes she used on me earlier.

“I’m not your personal valet,” I said. “I’ve got things to do tonight.”

“What? A dinner date with Medusa?” she asked, and I covered my chuckle with a scowl.

When I didn’t snap back at her, all her fight dissipated. She lowered her head and her shoulders sagged. “That’s fine. I can just walk home.”

I nodded, and she stood up and put on her jacket. I knew it’d be smarter for me to stay here and continue with the mountain of paperwork I had to do, but regret oozed through my ribcage. A hollow feeling told me I was making a mistake.

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