No Laughing Matter: Lennox Brothers Romantic Comedy Page 4

  “Get Carlotta out too.”

  “What if she’s involved with the drug ring?”

  “Just get her out of there, okay?”

  I couldn’t make out much more than Asher’s shape as he stopped out of range of the dim lamp, in the shadows by the door. But I could see the tilt of his head and could imagine his thoughtful expression.

  “You’re letting your personal feelings sway you,” he said. “I thought it was important to bring the entire cartel down?”

  I glowered at him. He knew I’d give my life to put every one of those assholes behind bars. Hell, I almost had. But my gut was telling me to protect Carlotta.

  “Are you going to stand around talking all night?” I asked.

  Instead of answering, he bent to put on the shoes he’d left by the door, then buttoned his jacket.

  “Don’t loiter over there,” I told him. “Stay under the radar, and avoid both Frankie and Santino.”

  “I’ve got this.”

  As soon as he left, I jammed my binoculars back to my eyes, waiting for him to appear next door. I was already regretting letting him go. No matter how smart and capable my brother was, I shouldn’t be letting him saunter into the middle of my operation. Not when there was so much at stake.

  But it was too late to stop him now.

  Chapter Five

  Carlotta

  Winter in San Dante wasn’t exactly freezing, but it was cold enough that I was regretting I hadn’t worn a coat.

  Instead, I had on a slinky silver dress and high heels. Another mistake. My feet were already sore, and in future I’d have to remember that high heels were for events with chairs, not parties so crowded there was barely room to stand next to the pool.

  This was a ritzy house. Though the architecture was a little dated, it would be worth a fortune because it was practically on the beach. But at night, standing on its brightly-lit deck, the no-doubt impressive view of the ocean looked more like an expanse of black nothingness. Over the obnoxious loud music, I couldn’t even hear the surf.

  “Fun party,” said Nat to the man she’d introduced as Santino, a regular customer at her café.

  “It’s more fun now that you’re here.” Santino gave Nat a smile. He’d made a beeline to us as soon as we’d arrived, and the way he was looking at Nat, it was obvious why he’d invited her to his party. Not surprising seeing as Nat was a knockout, especially in the little black dress she was wearing. Her long dark hair was loose and she was wearing her glasses, as usual. They were thick enough to make her eyes look enormous behind them.

  Santino had sharp features, and a short beard. He was wearing a nice suit and several gold rings, which I couldn’t help but notice because he was smoothing the front of his suit as though worried it might wrinkle. Not bad looking, but I could tell Nat wasn’t interested. Her smile was polite rather than flirty, and her gaze kept drifting away from him.

  “Let’s go to the bar and grab a drink,” Nat suggested.

  The three of us threaded our way through the crowd, cutting close to the swimming pool on our way to the bar. We hadn’t quite reached it when Santino stopped. “This is Frankie,” he said, introducing us to a tall, bald man with a gray beard, who was about Mom’s age. He was thickset, with old, faded tattoos on his forearms, and small, mean eyes.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” said Frankie, looking me up and down before giving me a toothy smile that made me instantly uncomfortable. “You look lovely,” he said. “Carlotta, is it? I like your dress.”

  “Thanks.” He was standing too close, but the swimming pool was right behind me, and this area was so crowded it was hard to move away.

  “What do you do, Carlotta?” he asked.

  “We’re looking for the bar.” I misunderstood on purpose, because I really wanted a drink, and if we moved toward the bar I might be able to escape him.

  “Carlotta’s an influencer,” said Nat.

  “Not anymore,” I muttered. “My sponsors have stopped replying to my emails.”

  “Does that mean you’re looking for work?” asked Santino, smoothing his suit jacket again.

  “I’m actually looking for a martini. Though I do have bills that need to be paid, so a job would be good too.”

  Santino dug in the pocket of his suit and handed me a business card that smelled of his cologne. “It’s your lucky day. I’m hiring.”

  His job title was printed under his name. “Importer and Distributor,” I read. “What do you import and distribute?”

  “Gifts and novelty items. Pretty things.” He flashed his handsome smile at Nat. “Not as pretty as you are, Natalie.” She rolled her eyes, but Santino’s gaze was back on me. “I need someone to do odd jobs.”

  “Well, if you’re looking for odd, I couldn’t be any odder.”

  “Does that mean you’re interested?”

  “That depends. Is the work illegal, immoral, x-rated, abusive, exploitive, or uncomfortable?”

  “Nothing like that.” He held up both hands, chuckling. “Just office work and a little driving.”

  “I waitressed while I was at acting school, but I’ve never done office work.”

  “You’ll like it. Give me your number.” Santino handed over his cellphone, and I punched in my number before slipping the business card he handed me into the small bag I had slung over my shoulder.

  “I’ll get us a drink,” said Nat.

  Frankie leaned in. He was a big guy, and he was standing so close I couldn’t get around him. “I’m a social media expert,” he announced. “I can solve the problem with your sponsors.”

  “Really?” I hesitated. Nat was already moving away, and I wanted to go with her. “Shall we talk about it at the bar?”

  Frankie didn’t move. “I own a PR company. I know how things work.”

  Nat turned back. “Are you coming, Lottie?”

  I argued with myself for a moment. Frankie looked more like a man who robbed convenience stores than a social media expert, but maybe he really did have some wisdom to share. In spite of the sleazy look he’d given me, he had to realize he was way too old for me and maybe he wasn’t aware he was crowding me.

  “I’ll help you get the drinks.” Santino joined Nat. “We’ll bring them back.”

  Nat raised her eyebrows at me, and I nodded my agreement.

  “So,” I said to Frankie when Nat and Santino had moved away. “What do you think I should do?”

  “Forget about work. You should let me look after you.” He gave me a suggestive leer.

  I groaned, regretting my decision not to make a break for it when I had the chance. “Seriously?”

  “Of course I’m serious. You’re beautiful, and I’m rich and powerful. I’m a very successful man.”

  “How nice for you. It must be such a comfort in your advanced years.”

  He leaned closer, not taking the hint. “Women like spending time with me.” When I took a startled step backward, right to the edge of the swimming pool, he closed the gap, lowering his voice as though he were sharing a secret. “My friends get the best of everything.”

  “My friend quota is full, but I’ll be sure and let you know if a place opens up.”

  “Baby, I’m talking about being special friends. Ask me nicely, and I can make all your problems go away.” He ran his index finger down my arm and I saw his little finger was missing.

  I gave a disbelieving laugh. He was so over the top, he had to be messing with me. Maybe he’d made a bet with someone that he could get a woman to knee him in the balls in her first fifteen minutes at the party.

  “Are you being ironic?” I asked. “Perhaps you’re performing a one-man play about how the MeToo movement has enabled women to speak out more freely when faced with inappropriate behavior?”

  “Be sweet to me, baby, and I’ll be sweet to you.” He brought his face uncomfortably close to mine, and I noticed his pupils were dilated. In fact, they were huge. And he was sniffing. I’d assumed his sinuses were reacting to the coo
l evening, but what if there was another explanation?

  Though I didn’t do drugs, I knew what it meant when someone was talking too fast and sniffing, with eyes like the dark side of the moon.

  “Hey Frankie,” I said sweetly. “Would you please get out of my way before I slip off one of my shoes and stab my heel through your eye socket?”

  He chortled. “You’re beautiful, baby, but you’re wound too tight. I have something that’ll loosen you up. Something to make you feel great.”

  “I don’t do drugs.” I tried to figure out how to get past him when the guys on either side of him were built like three-hundred-pound NFL players, and crammed together with their backs to me, forming a wall I couldn’t push through.

  “Come on, baby. Let me take you to heaven.”

  “I’ll stick to planet Earth. Or Mars, if colonization ever becomes a viable option. But as the saying goes, heaven can wait.” I shoved against the nearest linebacker, but he was too busy talking to the guy beside him to notice. It felt like trying to perform demolition work without a bulldozer.

  “Then have dinner with me,” said Frankie. “Have you ever been to Pierre’s? Best restaurant in New Orleans, and most people can’t get a table.”

  “No thanks.” I peered through the linebackers. Where was Nat?

  “I’ll fly us there in my plane, and we’ll have the best oysters you’ve ever tasted.”

  “I’m allergic.”

  “To oysters?”

  “To men with planes.” I fumbled inside my bag, trying to tug out my phone. Maybe I could message Nat to hurry up and rescue me?

  Before I could pull it free, a male voice came from behind Frankie’s back.

  “Excuse me.”

  Frankie turned to look at the man who’d interrupted him, finally giving me a little room. For the first time since he’d cornered me, I felt like I could breathe.

  The newcomer was gorgeous. But then, all three of the Lennox brothers were like catnip for the eyes. Asher was two years younger than Mason, and a little shorter and leaner, though he was still well muscled. Asher’s hair and eyes were darker than Mason’s, and he had a graceful way of moving.

  The smile I gave him probably showed how relieved I was to see a friendly face. “Hey, Asher. It’s been a while.”

  “Sorry to interrupt, Carlotta, but would you mind coming with me?”

  “Happy to.” I tried to dodge around Frankie, but he moved to block me.

  “She’s not going anywhere.” Frankie narrowed his eyes at Asher. “This is a private party. Were you invited?”

  “I have something to discuss with Carlotta.”

  “She’s staying right here.” Frankie stabbed a finger into Asher’s chest. “And you need to leave before I have you thrown out.”

  Outrage made my voice shrill. “I’ll go with him if I want to.”

  “You’re not going anywhere with him, baby. You’re with me.”

  My mouth dropped open. I was so stunned, words failed me.

  “There’s no need to get aggressive.” Asher’s tone was calm, and he seemed as unruffled as ever.

  “I’m never aggressive, jackass.” Frankie poked Asher in the chest again. “Now fuck off before I shove your teeth down your throat.”

  Okay, that was it. Now he’d officially made me angry.

  “I’m not with you, Frankie, and I will never eat any kind of food with you.” I planted my fists on my hips. “I won’t set foot in your car, your plane, your house, or your garden shed. The answer to any question you ask me will always be no. Nein. Neit. Non. Nope.” I wracked my brain, trying to remember how to say no in more languages. “Nouch,” I said finally. As far as I knew it wasn’t a word, not in any language. But would a drug-addled creep know that? I didn’t think so.

  “You heard her. Now step back and let her get past.” Asher sounded bored, and I wondered if his apparent level of calm was a mask he could put on. Maybe the more tense he got, the more serene he was able to sound, like how I sometimes found myself wearing a strained smile when my feelings were hurt.

  “Get out of here, jackass.” As Frankie swung around to snarl at Asher, his elbow landed in my ribs hard enough to make me stagger backward.

  One moment, there was concrete under my heel. The next moment there was only air, and I was falling backward into nothing.

  Then I hit the water.

  The freezing shock of it squeezed the air from my lungs. It closed over my head, and I dragged in a breath that turned out to be liquid.

  Instinct made me kick to the surface, and I was already coughing when I surfaced. The water I’d swallowed burned back up my throat, and the strength of my big hacking coughs almost sunk me again.

  My lungs hurt and my eyes were burning, my vision blurry. My wet hair was plastered over my face, and I pushed it out of the way, blinking.

  Asher crouched on the edge of the swimming pool, reaching to haul me out of the water. He heaved me up, and I stood dripping on solid ground. Nat finally appeared, carrying two drinks and wearing a shocked expression.

  A few moments ago, the party had been loud. Now there was dead silence. Even the loud music had stopped. I could feel everyone staring, but nobody was laughing.

  Yet.

  Lifting both arms theatrically, I paused with them angled up, and then took a low bow.

  My dress had turned transparent. It stuck to my body like wet gossamer paper, and as I lowered my head, I saw the clear outline of my underwear.

  I mentally fist pumped.

  In a stroke of completely unplanned good luck, I’d worn my novelty Star Trek panties that had Spock’s face on the front, and To Boldly Go Where No Man Has Gone Before printed across the back.

  Staying down in a low bow, I swiveled around so everyone could see my butt, which was rounder than most. I held still for a moment, then wiggled my hips. If that didn’t make them laugh, nothing would.

  Somebody whooped as a ripple of laughter ran through the partygoers. When I straightened, people started clapping. I grinned, and indulged myself by taking another bow.

  The laughter, wolf whistles, and applause slowly petered out. People turned away to resume their conversations. Except for the drug-addled creep standing next to Asher.

  Frankie was staring at my body, his gaze devouring my wet dress. His eyes held a ravenous gleam, as though he was a stoner at two in the morning, and I was the last burger at the drive-through. I wasn’t self-conscious about my body, but Frankie’s creepy gaze would make a nun crave a baggier habit.

  Glancing back down, I saw my panties had become almost as transparent as my dress. Maybe Frankie was checking out how Spock would look with a beard.

  “You okay, Lottie?” Nat was looking around for somewhere to put the drinks.

  Instead of answering, I shivered. Now the cold sea breeze was hitting me, instantly dropping my body temperature.

  Asher stripped off his jacket and wrapped it around me. I didn’t object, though it was an expensive looking jacket, and the pool’s chlorine would probably ruin it.

  Which reminded me. My high heels were at the bottom of the pool with my shoulder bag and… dammit, my cell phone. I’d have to leave this party barefoot and phoneless.

  “I’ll take you home.” Nat shoved the drinks she was carrying at the nearest bystander. “Here, you can have these.”

  “I live next door,” said Asher. “You can dry off there.”

  Frankie tried to elbow Asher aside. “She can dry off here.” But Asher had his feet planted, and Frankie seemed to be having trouble getting past him.

  “I’m g-going with A-Asher.” I was suddenly so cold, my teeth were starting to chatter. Catching a glimpse of a relatively clear path to the house, I grabbed my chance to dash toward the door.

  My dress already felt clammy, and being wet had turned it scratchy. On the plus side, the crowd was miraculously parting for me, probably because I was soaking wet and nobody wanted me to drip on their nice clothes.

  I had to go
through Santino’s house to get to the street, and I made it inside and all the way through the living room and hallway to the front door. Nat and Asher were behind me, presumably stopping Frankie from following. But when I flung the door open, a man was standing right outside, blocking my exit.

  “M-Mason?” I yelped.

  Chapter Six

  Carlotta

  I was so surprised to see Mason, I stumbled over the front doorstep. And because I was cold and my bare feet were so numb they were starting to lose feeling, my stumble turned into a fall, and suddenly the ground was accelerating toward my face.

  Mason grabbed me before I hit, setting me back upright on unsteady feet.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Y-y-yes.” My teeth were clattering together like castanets. “C-c-cold,” I added, by way of explanation.

  Mason slid his arm around me, though my wet hair and clothes were going to soak his T-shirt. He seemed to be generating heat, like a giant walking furnace, and I felt instantly warmer.

  “I’m o-okay,” I said. “You d-don’t n-need to—”

  “Come next door.” He didn’t loosen his arm, but hustled me down the path toward Santino’s front gate.

  “You live next door?” asked Nat from behind us.

  “I’m staying with Asher.”

  The path was cobbled with decorative stones, and my numb bare feet stumbled again, despite Mason’s grip.

  “Quicker if I carry you.” Mason bent to put his arm under my knees.

  “W-what? No, you c-can’t—” I let out a squeak as he swept me into his arms.

  Though I grabbed around his neck, I wasn’t in danger of being dropped. Not when he was cradling me with his enormous muscles barely flexing. But for several long strides, all I could do was hang on. All words had deserted me. The strangeness was overwhelming.

  Mason Lennox was carrying me to his house?

  No, this had to be some kind of hallucination. I couldn’t really be pressed against Mason’s wide chest, getting his T-shirt wet and dripping pool water onto his jeans.