As for her parents, they were predictably horrified when she returned from Josh’s that morning to pack a bag and explain they shouldn’t look to see her again until after the New Year. Going off with a man she barely knew…what had come over her? She was making a terrible mistake, a whopper, her mother tearfully told her. Rather than argue, Mandy reminded them she was a grown woman, not their little girl. She had thirty years of mistakes under her belt, such as getting hooked up with a creep like Lenny and entrusting him with her finances, but so far she’d managed to survive. At this point, her making another slipup was akin to an Aussie tossing another shrimp on the barbie—what was one more?
The only other person with whom she’d had to square her plans was Josh. Sex was a great way to keep him under watch, but short of handcuffing him to the bed, a tantalizing prospect even if he wasn’t in danger, she couldn’t expect to keep him indoors indefinitely. That was too bad because the apartment was the hands-down safest place for him. The FBI had selected the location in Canton specifically. For all she knew, the bar below was a federal front operation. Regardless, in her police academy days she’d read enough briefs on how federal cases were conducted to surmise that the two special agents she’d met at the morgue would be stationed close by, watching the comings and goings like a pair of hawks. Even with great sex and great gab in between, she couldn’t expect to keep Josh indoors indefinitely. Eventually he would want to go out and when he did, he would be a walking target.
The only real way to head off the hit was to take a proactive approach and turn the hunter into the hunted, to smoke the hit man out of his hiding hole before he could make his next move. And so while Josh was back at the apartment repairing a leaking kitchen faucet—a task he’d apologetically told her would take several hours—she seized the opportunity to pay a call on her cousin, Mikey. If anyone had his ear to the ground and his finger to the pulse of the seedy underbelly of Charm City, it was her ex-con cousin.
Mikey worked as a bouncer and fill-in bartender at Club Strip-Tease, one of the more popular spots on The Block, Baltimore’s red-light district. The two-block stretch of East Baltimore Street was home to sundry strip reviews, porn and sex toy shops, and miscellaneous adult entertainment venues from the landmark Gayety Theater to Larry Flynt’s new Hustler Club. Advancing down the street past neon-lit clubs and glass storefronts of mannequins modeling the latest in S&M wear, an occasional catcall came her way but otherwise the street stragglers left her alone. It was just after twelve noon, early for sin, and most of the Block’s merchants and clients were still resting up for another big night.
She opened the smeared glass door to Club Strip-Tease, the stink of stale cigarettes hitting her in the face as soon as she stepped inside. Taking in the empty stage with its metal poles and the floor of tables with the chairs still up, she made her way over to the bar, the heels of her boots catching on the sticky floor.
Standing behind the bar restocking the shelves, Mikey greeted her with his gold-toothed grin. “Hey, Mands, what’s up?”
The black sheep of the Delinski clan, Mikey had a rap sheet as long as Mandy’s arm, but it was all petty stuff—stealing office computer equipment after hours, forging driver’s licenses and fake IDs for college kids, stripping stolen cars for parts. As far as she knew, he’d never physically harmed anyone, man or beast. During his last stint at Lorton, he’d become active in the inmate program to feed and care for the feral cats living on the prison grounds. Since his release, he’d been the main caretaker for a colony that resided behind the club’s trash Dumpster. Just about every time she saw him, he tried to give her a kitten. Criminal record aside, he was a real pussycat.
She shrugged. “Oh, you know, this and that. Mostly working, picking up as much overtime as I can to get the bucks together for a down payment on a house.”
Looking sympathetic, he nodded. “Yeah, me too. There’s this culinary school in Philly I’ve got my eye on. It’s a six-month program, and tuition ain’t cheap.”
Ever since she’d known him, he’d loved to cook. She’d never say so in front of her mother, but the mushroom sauce he made to go with his cabbage rolls beat hers hands-down. Still, as much as she wanted him to succeed, there was a time when she would have questioned his ability to fit in with the canapé crowd. With his craggy face, gold-capped front teeth, and streetwise swagger, he looked more like a mobster from
The Sopranos
than he did Emeril. But making an extraordinary wish and having it granted, experiencing the man of your dreams come back to life before your very eyes changed a lot. It changed everything. Living the miracle firsthand, only now did she see how cynical she’d become over the past five years as a beat cop. At some point, she’d stopped dreaming, stopped hoping altogether. Until Josh had come into her life, she’d given up on second chances, miracles, and yes, herself.
If culinary school was Mikey’s dream, his ticket to a new life, then she was all for it. “Just keep yourself clean and you’ll get there. You’re doing good, Mikey. We’re all really proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mands. That means a lot to me, especially coming from you.” He hesitated, staring her up and down. “You lose weight or something?”
Taking a seat on one of the vinyl cushioned stools, she shook her head. “I wish.”
“Well, you look…I dunno, different, like you got this glow about you or somethin’.”
“Thanks.”
She felt the heat of what surely must be a Day-Glo blush spreading over her face. Any glow she had was the direct result of one and one thing only—spending time with Josh. After leaving her parents’ house on Christmas night, they’d gone back to his apartment and made love for hours. At this rate, they’d run through the gamut of possible sexual positions before the week was out, not that she was complaining. Whether he took her hard and fast up against the wall or slow and gentle in his lap on the side of the bed, he was completely committed to ensuring her pleasure. Knowing he would never hurt her, or pressure her into doing something she wasn’t comfortable with, allowed her to let go as she’d never done or thought to do before. And of course it didn’t hurt that she was so crazy about him she wanted to lick him from head to toe like an ice-cream cone, and then devour him in one sitting like a coveted chocolate dessert.
“Get you somethin’ to drink?”
The question brought her out of her lusty daydream and back to the practical present. Reminded this wasn’t a social call, she shook her head. “No thanks. I’m good.” She looked around the empty bar. Other than the skinny Asian kid mopping the floor, she and Mikey appeared to be alone. Still, you couldn’t be too careful. Even though she was in civilian clothes, jeans and a black turtleneck sweater, sitting at a bar
sans
drink might raise suspicion. “On second thought, give me a Diet Coke?”
“You got it.” He filled a glass with ice and soda and slid it across the bar to her.
Eyeing the smudged drink ware, she tore the paper off a plastic drink straw and used it to take a sip. She set the glass aside and admitted, “I need a favor.”
He paused in wiping a glass with a dish towel to look across the bar at her. “Listen up, ’cause I’m only going to say this once. You stood up and spoke for me at my probation hearing. I know you took heat for that at work, but you did it anyways, and I don’t forget that. I owe you big time. Whatever you need, you got it.”
“Thanks, Mikey.” Sipping her soda, she ventured another glance about before turning back. “You notice anything weird going down over the past week?”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s The Block, Mandy. When isn’t something weird going down?”
He had a point there. “What I mean is have you noticed anyone hanging out not part of your regular clientele, anyone who might look or seem like they’re from out of town, like I don’t know…Boston?”
“Boston, huh? You got somebody specific in mind?”
“Maybe, maybe not. It’s too soon to say. I got a lead on a mob hit that’s supposed to go down before January second, and I need to check it out. Just remember, any New England accents walk in, you page me, okay?”
“Okay, you got it.”
She slipped off the seat and stood. “Thanks for the soda. You take care now, keep focused on school.” She turned to go.
“I will. Hey, Mandy?”
She turned back around. “Yeah.”
“Tell your mom I appreciate her having me over to the open house the other day. Her dumplings were delish.”
Relieved beyond words, she rushed across the room and threw herself into his arms.
“Whoa, that’s some greeting. I guess I don’t have to ask whether or not you missed me.” His broad smile told her that her missing him pleased him indeed.
Pulling back to look up at him, she got a whiff of some spicy scent overlaying his own. Needing to focus on something, anything, beyond her recent fear, she said, “You smell good, different though.”
He raised an arm and sniffed the inside of his wrist. Making a face, he said, “Some rep for Ralph Lauren shot me with a cologne sample when I was passing through the menswear section.”
“The menswear section…as in a department store?” A host of grim possibilities hit her like a fist in the gut. She threw her arms around his waist and pulled him closer if only to make sure he was still real, still alive.
He nodded, blue eyes twinkling like those of a sexy St. Nick. “I snuck out to Towson Town Center and did some shopping while you were gone.”
Holding him tight, she said, “Why didn’t you call me on my cell? We could have gone together.”
He disengaged from her arms and stepped back, looking at her strangely as though she’d suddenly morphed into Glenn Close in
Fatal Attraction
or at least the most insecure, possessive woman on the planet. “It was no big deal. I figured you had an errand to run and I’d only be gone for an hour or so.”
It was a big deal, an enormous deal actually. He could have been shot and killed though she could hardly say so.
Making an effort to tamp down her panic, she raked an ice-cold hand through her hair and asked, “Hit any good sales?”
“I wasn’t exactly looking for bargains. I was looking for a Christmas gift—for you.” He pulled an exquisitely wrapped box from the shopping bag and handed it to her. “Merry Christmas, one day late. It’s not exactly La Perla, but I hope you’ll like it.”
Resolved to be more vigilant in the future or at least more creative—maybe she’d be breaking in that new pair of department issue handcuffs sooner rather than later—she said, “You didn’t have to buy me anything.”
He shrugged. “I know I didn’t have to, I wanted to. Go ahead and open it.”
She carried her present over to the bed and sat to open it. Now that any immediate danger was past, she felt her adrenaline knock down from dizzying rush to slow percolate. The paper was so pretty that rather than tear it she untaped one side and slid the box out. The pink Victoria’s Secret box was a familiar sight though until now the only gifts from that store had come courtesy of her.
Anticipation building, she lifted off the lid. Nestled within the perfumed pink tissue paper was a small folded square of black lace. Lifting it out, she saw it was a one-piece teddy scarcely bigger than the disposable diaper her sister, Sharon, strapped on her newborn. She’d never had a man buy lingerie for her before, or shop for her at all, for that matter, and the thoughtfulness of the gesture touched her. She only wished she had a better body to show it off.
Emotions mixed, she looked over to Josh. “It’s so beautiful and, um…so tiny.”
Grinning, he reached over and slid a hand inside the fabric. “It stretches, see.”
“I, uh, see that, only by the time it expands to fit me, it may be more like dental floss than lingerie.”
He drew his hand away. “You don’t like it. That’s okay. I had the salesclerk include the gift slip. You can take it back and exchange it for something you really want.”
“No, it’s not that. This is beautiful, perfect really. The only problem is…I’m not.”
“Mandy—”
She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Let’s face it, Josh, I’m way too heavy, okay fat, to wear something like this. I mean, I wouldn’t want you going blind or anything.” When he didn’t so much as crack a smile, she added, “That was a joke, by the way.”
“Well, it wasn’t funny. You’re not fat, you’re full-figured. Lush—and very,
very
sexy.”
This was the very last conversation she wanted to be having with him and now was the very worst time to be having it. She still wasn’t fully recovered from the shock of him slipping out on her. “Whatever euphemisms you come up with, I know what I am and what I look like.”
Gaze serious, he shook his head. “I don’t think you do. At least try it on.”
“Now?”
He shrugged. “No better time than the present.”
Holding it up again, she was sure that, stretchy fabric or not, he’d underestimated her size. She’d bet her badge his previous girlfriends were all gym rats with model-thin figures.
“Okay, you win. I’ll try it on. But remember, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She got up and carried the lingerie to the bathroom.
He followed her with his eyes. “Hurry back.”
Inside, she pulled the door closed and faced herself in the mirror, pulling her sweater over her head and slipping out of her jeans and underwear. Staring at her naked self in the full-length mirror backing the door, she tried to see what Josh supposedly saw. The top half of her wasn’t so bad, she had to admit. Her arms weren’t skinny by any means but they were toned from all the push-ups she did and her breasts were, well, pretty nice, she had to admit. Her stomach might not be exactly flat, but she had a waist and it cinched more or less where a woman’s waist was supposed to. But when her eyes dropped lower to take in the rest of her, all bets were off. She turned sideways to study her profile in the mirror, a depressing sight. Her butt was huge, her thighs way too wide, her ankles definitely erring on the thick side. And God, could she ever use a tan.
From the other room, Josh called out, “Hey, how’s it going in there? You didn’t climb out the window or anything did you?”
“Actually, I did. I’m halfway down the block by now. This is a recording.”
“Hurry up, funny lady. I can’t wait to see you.”
Oh you can wait, believe me, you can wait
. One hand balanced on the edge of the sink, she held out the teddy and stepped into it. Shimmying, she tugged it upward over her hips, steeled for the humiliating sound of tearing fabric.
Only amazingly, it didn’t tear, but stretched just like stretch fabric was supposed to do. Encouraged, she pulled it the rest of the way up, slipped the spaghetti straps over her shoulders, and turned back to the mirror.
Oh my God
. Until now she wouldn’t have thought it possible to feel more naked wearing something than well, nothing at all. The lingerie’s plunging V-neckline shot downward to just above her navel, covering little more than her nipples and the sides of her breasts. The sheer lacy fabric left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Her pink areolas shone through as did the triangle of reddish brown hair between her thighs. And then there was the snap crotch that barely covered anything at all. Thong-style, it fitted snugly between her buttocks, a single scrap of lace.
“Hey, you, at this rate, it’ll be next Christmas before you come out. Don’t make me come in there and get you.” It was Josh again, tone tinged with impatience, leaving no doubt he’d make good on his threat if she didn’t show herself soon.
Finding her brush, she used it to make a quick pass through her hair. Giving her head a final toss, she called out, “Close your eyes because ready or not, here I come.”
Moment of truth time
. Bracing herself with a deep breath, she opened the bathroom door and stepped out.