got worse and worse.
Get a grip! Lucy pinned her shaking hands under her arms. This is nothing. I can do this...I’m going to do this...
It’s illegal, the mean little voice whispered.
So? Lucy shot back. So is what he’s been up to. Otherwise I wouldn’t be going to blackmail him with it.
Yeah, but...Lucy held her breath, waiting for the mean little voice to finish. What if he decides to pay you off with a bullet in the brain?
Lucy’s entire body turned cold, every molecule in her stiffening.
A bullet in the brain...
She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe. Sure, he’s a crooked lawyer, probably deals with thugs and hoods and...and gangsters? Lucy gulped at the thought of any of those kinds of people. But murder? He’s a Lawyer, not a hit-man.
Lucy finally relaxed enough to shift in her seat and crack her aching neck. Her arm and head were starting to hurt again too.
He’s like Daddy. Lucy scrunched her eyes closed at how wrong those words felt rolling around in her brain. He’s just a cheap, tacky version of...of him. Yeah, sure. He’s immoral and should be in jail with Daddy, but that doesn’t mean he’d...
“Kill me...” Even as she said it, she couldn’t dispel the uneasiness, the uncertainty. Sure Daddy cheated the IRS, and probably his clients. And he more than likely really did deal in slave labor. Lucy still couldn’t wrap her heart and mind around the fact that her father had sold PEOPLE. But Daddy couldn’t have...he just couldn’t kill someone. So crooked Frank Luvici wouldn’t either.
Of course he wouldn’t, princess.
Lucy was getting pretty sick of that mean little voice.
Chapter 5
THE AIR smelled better, richer, the Sun was warmer, and just being back in her home town...correction, the city, made every step Lucy took better. Her nerves were still there, but after she stopped at Starbucks for the first non-fat caramel-mocha latte she’d had in six months, and took that first, heavenly mouthful as the taste burst on her tongue, a surge of absolute certainty rose in her.
She would get what she wanted. There was no two ways about it.
She was going to win.
Luvici’s office was on the third floor of a rundown brownstone building. The elevator creaked and hadn’t been cleaned in about a gazillion years, but it was better than huffing it up three flights of stairs.
Lucy wanted to look and feel calm and beautiful when she went in to blackmail Luvici. She didn’t want to be breathless, sweating and worn out.
Plus, Luvici might like the whole sweaty thing way too much.
The foamed glass door had Luvici Law Offices in faded, peeling gold lettering. The door wasn’t locked, so Lucy took a deep breath and walked through the door, flashing the young, blonde, bubble butted—and probably headed—secretary one of her most stunning smiles.
The blonde’s smile was sweet, but her eyes gave away a little So, what do you want? attitude.
Lucy started to sidetrack around the secretary. “I just need a moment of Mr. Luvici’s time.”
Unexpectedly the blonde maneuvered herself between Lucy and Luvici’s door. “Sure, Miss. But Frank...I mean, Mr. Luvici, is booked all day.” She put her hands on her hips, and Lucy could see that she was going to give her more than a little problem. Could Lucy just push past her? The blonde’s smile was still Snow White perfect, but her eyes had a hard edge to them.
“But it’s important.”
“If it’s that important, then you’ll need to make an appointment.” Obviously this wasn’t her first time rebuffing solicitors from her boss’s door. “I think he has an opening in about two weeks.”
Lucy put her hands on her hips and glared at the woman. Well, might as well throw out surprise number one.
Lucy put her hands up in mock surrender and then sashayed over to a small bank of waiting-room chairs lining the opposite wall. Sitting down, she crossed her legs and shot the blonde her best smile.
“Miss, I don’t think you—”
“I didn’t catch your name,” Lucy cut across her.
“W-what?”
“Your name? I don’t remember asking. It was rude of me.”
The blonde got a startled expression on her face, making her smile falter. Without the smile she looked five, maybe ten years older. That alone could be why she was boning a schmuck like Luvici.
She pushed away the fact of how her own looks had faltered, and in only six months time.
“Darla,” she mumbled before plastering a mere shadow of her former smile back on her face. “My name is Darla.”
“Well, Darla. Would you