Maggie Lee (Book 11): The Hitwoman Hires a Manny Read online

  As much as it pained me, I had to agree with the lizard. “I do manage,” I said slowly.

  God waved his tail like it was a pompom. “And you can find her without him.”

  I hesitated. Could I? “I can try.”

  “Excellent!” The lizard clapped his little paws.

  I could tell from the side-eyed look Piss was giving me, that the cat was dubious about the plan.

  I ignored her, and focused on the lizard’s cheerleading.

  “Patrick no?” DeeDee whined pitifully.

  “Not this time,” I told her with more conviction than I felt.

  The dog looked at my face, worry shining in her dark eyes. “Patrick mad?”

  I shook my head. “We’re not mad at each other. We’re just…” I trailed off, not sure what the redhead and I were to each other.

  I’d thought we were making progress with our relationship, but this latest development was a reminder of how tenuous a grip I had on him. I wasn’t sure if I was more angry or sad by his abrupt desertion.

  Before I could figure it out, there were three sharp knocks against the basement door.

  “Are you down there, Margaret?” Aunt Susan called.

  “I’m here.” I jumped off the couch and ran up the stairs to open the door for her. “What’s up?”

  “I have wonderful news,” she gushed, grabbing my arm and pulling me into the kitchen.

  “The twins already showed me the room. It’s wonderful. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “It did turn out well, but that’s not what I wanted to tell you. I have an even better surprise.”

  “Better?” I asked suspiciously. Marlene was right, I really didn’t like surprises.

  “I found someone to take care of Katie.”

  Frowning, I crossed my arms over my chest. “I thought we were going to take care of her. That’s why I quit my job at the insurance company.”

  “Yes, yes, dear,” Susan soothed. “But I found someone to pick up the slack.”

  “Who?” I asked as Loretta wandered into the kitchen.

  “A manny.”

  “A manny?” I practically shrieked.

  “I adore mani pedis,” Loretta interrupted. “Nothing says femininity like a pretty mani.”

  “Not that kind of manny,” Susan corrected.

  “There’s no such thing as an ugly mani,” her sister countered, batting her false eyelashes.

  “I don’t want a manny. I don’t need a manny,” I roared.

  “Of course not,” Loretta soothed. “You’re beautiful without one.”

  “I already hired him,” Susan told me.

  “Hired him?” I shouted. “I’m Katie’s guardian, not you. What the hell makes you think you can hire someone to care of her without consulting with me?”

  Susan blinked. “I was just trying to help.”

  “By cutting me out of the process and making unilateral decisions?” Fighting for control over my emotions, I lowered my voice. “You can’t just do what you think is best for Katie.”

  “You’re right,” Susan agreed. “I shouldn’t have hired him without talking it over with you first. It’s just that the arrangement was so perfect…”

  I squinted at her. “What arrangement?”

  “Well, he needs a place to stay while he figures out where he wants to live, what he wants to do…” Susan began to explain.

  “You hired a homeless man to take care of Katie?” I shrieked, giving up all pretense of having a calm, logical conversation.

  Susan arched an eyebrow. “Of course not, he’s a qualified and respectable individual.”

  I frowned at her, feeling the beginnings of a headache throb at my temples. “Who happens to be environmentally friendly because he lives in a recycled cardboard box?”

  Loretta, who’d watched the conversation like it was a professional sporting match, interjected, “Is he handsome?”

  “Who cares if he’s handsome?” I grabbed my skull with both hands, trying to make the pounding in my head stop.

  “He’s quite good-looking,” Susan told her, ignoring my outburst. “And he has wonderful manners.” She gave me a pointed look.

  “Are those his qualifications?” I sniped.

  “I’ll have you know he already chased off an unsavory character who was lurking in front of the house.”

  “We already have a guard dog,” I snapped.

  “Before you get yourself all worked up--” Susan began.

  “I’m already worked up!” I yelled.

  “Why don’t you at least meet the young man?”

  “Meet him? I don’t want to meet him. I want to fire his homeless ass.”

  Susan shrugged. “Okay. That’s your prerogative. He’s waiting in the dining room.”

  I stared at her in horror. If he was in the next room, he’d no doubt heard everything I’d said. And yelled. And shrieked.

  I was pretty sure my head was literally going to explode like an overfilled water balloon at any moment.

  Susan ushered me toward the dining room, waving her arms like a farm-wife directing a flock of wayward chickens.

  Deciding that the stranger in the next room would be easier to deal with than my aunt, I stumbled into the dining room.

  “Uh, hi,” I muttered to the dark-haired, broad-shouldered man who had his back to me as he examined some of Susan’s silverware.

  Turning, he flashed a heart-stopping smile at me. “Hi, Maggie.”

  I gasped, unable to conceal my surprise that Angel Delveccio, wearing a Navy t-shirt, was standing in front of me. “You’re the manny?”

  “The one you’re going to fire,” he confirmed, a devilish twinkle in his eye.

  I sank into the nearest chair, trying to make sense of what was going on, while war drums beat relentlessly against the interior of my skull. “I don’t understand.” I squinted at him suspiciously. “Did your uncle put you up to this?”

  His gaze narrowed and frown lines wrinkled his forehead, but he kept his tone light. “No. This was all your aunt’s doing.”

  I made a mental note to add Susan to the list of my future assassination victims.

  “Mind if I sit?” Angel asked.

  I waved my hand. “Help yourself.”

  He helped himself to the seat beside me. I half-expected the antique chair to splinter beneath his rugged weight. Our knees practically touched and I could smell his spicy aftershave.

  “Look,” I said in a rush. “I’m sorry about what you overheard. I didn’t mean to insult you. If she’d said you were here…” I sucked in a breath and eyed him suspiciously. “What are you doing here?”

  “Maybe I should explain what happened,” he offered.

  I nodded, massaging my temples with my fingertips.

  “Your aunt saw me helping your niece practice her physical therapy exercises.”

  “And why did you do that?”

  “She was trying to show Dominic…I was there to visit Dominic…not spy on your niece,” he added hurriedly as though he thought that I might think he was some kind of pervert, besides being homeless.

  “Go on.”

  Angel expelled a puff of frustration. “Anyway, she was trying to show Dom the exercises they’ll teach him to do, but she wasn’t doing it quite right and I wanted to make sure she didn’t adopt any bad habits, so I showed her the right way.”

  Dropping my hands into my lap, I looked closely at him. “And how do you know the right way?”

  Angel squared his shoulders and lifted his chin defensively before saying, “I’m a physical therapist.”

  “For real?”

  He nodded curtly.

  I wondered what Tony/Anthony Delveccio thought about their nephew doing such honest, noble work instead of going into the family business.

  “Now that I’ve left the Navy, I’m trying to get resettled. Looking for a job. Finding a place to live. Your aunt suggested I could help out for a while here, while I figured things out, but she should have discussed i
t with you first.” He leaned closer and whispered, “I thought you’d put her up to the offer.”

  I blinked. “Me? Why?”

  He shrugged. “I thought maybe my uncle had suggested it.”

  I shook my head as a bolt of nervousness shot through me. What would Delveccio think about this arrangement? If he disapproved, it could strain our dealings. I looked up at the dark-eyed man who was watching me carefully. “Did you ask your uncle about it?”

  Annoyance flashed in his gaze. “Nope.”

  I cringed inwardly, realizing that asking a grown military man if he’d gotten permission from his uncle was probably pretty insulting. “I didn’t mean…” I began to apologize.

  He waved it off. “I get it. You’ve spent enough time with my uncles to know that they usually get their way.”

  I nodded, wondering if he could tell the difference between the twin mobsters.

  An uncomfortable silence stretched between us.

  “Look,” he said finally, “I get that you don’t want me here.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “I don’t appreciate Aunt Susan arranging things behind my back, and the idea of entrusting Katie’s care to a stranger terrifies me,” I admitted.

  He nodded slowly. “I understand. But eventually you’re going to have to. Wouldn’t it be better to have it be the devil you know?”

  “But I don’t know you,” I countered.

  He sat back in his chair and regarded me steadily. “You know that I helped you change your tire. And you know that Katie likes me. You know that if anything happened to your niece, my uncle would kill me…literally.” A challenge sparkled in his eyes as he added that bit, waiting to see how I’d react to the mention of his family’s illegal practices.

  I didn’t bat an eye.

  “You can run a background check on me,” Angel offered. “You’ll find out where I got my degree, that I was honorably discharged from the Navy, and that my credit score is stellar.”

  “So why live here?” I asked.

  “It beats living in an extended stay hotel.”

  “But you’ve met my family.”

  He chuckled. “Trust me, compared to my family they’re not that bad.”

  “They’re nuts,” I warned him.

  “Remember where we first met,” he reminded me.

  I couldn’t help but smile considering that we’d met at the mental health facility where my mother and his cousin resided.

  “C’mon, Maggie,” he murmured, leaning closer so that the scent of his spicy aftershave tickled my nose. “You need the help. I need a place to get my bearings. What do you have to lose?”

  “Animals.”

  He sat back. “You’re going to lose animals?”

  “How do you feel about them?”

  “Well,” he answered carefully, “I’m not a vegan or anything. Not really a tofu hot dog kinda guy.”

  “Me neither,” I assured him, shuddering at the thought of soy-based “meat”.

  “Well, I don’t hunt animals if that’s what you mean…”

  “Pets,” I explained. “I meant, how do you feel about pets?”

  An expression of relief crossed Angel’s face. “I like pets.”

  I nodded my approval. “But the real question is whether they like you.”

  He cocked his head to the side, a smile playing at his lips. “So I don’t only need to earn your approval, but the pets’ too?”

  “It’s a package deal.”

  “Bring ‘em on.”

  I nodded. “Follow me.”

  Jumping to my feet, I led him through the kitchen where Susan and Loretta were making a show of peeling potatoes.

  I gave them a look to let them know that I knew that they’d been eavesdropping on the dining room conversation. Susan had the good sense to look embarrassed.

  Loretta winked at me and mouthed “handsome” before saying, “I feel safer having a virile young man in the house. Don’t you, Maggie?”

  Cheeks burning, I didn’t answer. I didn’t feel safer. I felt more on edge than ever.

  Ignoring her, I led Angel to the entrance of the basement. “Don’t be afraid.”

  He chuckled. “I’ve served in a war zone, I think I can handle--”

  “Maggie! Maggie! Maggie!” DeeDee barked excitedly, rushing up the stairs toward us.

  I sensed Angel freeze behind me.

  Not that I could blame him, if a barking Doberman pinscher charged me, I’d stop dead in my tracks too.

  “It’s okay,” I told him. Then I waved at the dog, motioning for her to retrace her steps. “Get back down there.”

  The dog obeyed, but watched us curiously as we descended. “This who?”

  “This is Angel,” I told her, in a voice loud enough for God and Piss to hear too as we reached the base of the staircase. “He might be helping out with Katie.”

  “Might?” DeeDee sniffed his hand.

  To his credit, the Navy man didn’t flinch. He just stood still, letting her check him out.

  “This is DeeDee,” I told him.

  “Good dog,” he murmured softly, slowly moving to stroke her chest. “That’s a good dog.”

  “Hungry,” DeeDee panted at him hopefully.

  “Why will he be helping?” God demanded to know from his enclosure.

  Angel whipped his head from side to side trying to identify the source of the squeaking sound.

  I pointed at the terrarium. “That’s Godzilla. He was Katie’s, but after the accident, he moved in with me.”

  Angel kept petting DeeDee, but waved hello to the lizard with his free hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  God waved back with his tail, but I don’t think the man noticed.

  “Angel is a physical therapist,” I explained to the animals.

  Angel chuckled. No doubt no one had ever explained him to their pets before, but he didn’t seem to think it was terribly weird.

  “Hungry,” DeeDee panted again, fixing her dark eyes on the man stroking her, trying to will him to feed her.

  “What’s wrong, cucciola?” he murmured.

  She cocked her head in my direction, signaling she hadn’t understood him.

  I shrugged at the dog. “What did you call her?”

  “Cucciola. Sweet little puppy.”

  DeeDee licked his palm, approving of the endearment.

  I smiled, knowing he’d just won the dog’s heart. “She’s hungry.”

  “She’s always hungry,” God groused.

  “Have a seat.” I waved for Angel to sit on the couch while I grabbed a biscuit for the dog and tossed it to her.

  Angel sank down on the sofa and slowly surveyed the room. I waited, knowing it was a lot to take in the first time. Even though I was so accustomed to it, I never noticed it anymore.

  “When we were kids, we called it The Ship,” I said.

  “I can see why,” Angel murmured, studying the walls, each of which offered a painted ocean view. One wall consisted of an endless line of white-capped waves. Another featured a tropical island complete with palm trees and a Tiki hut. Still another showed mermaids frolicking in the sea. The floor was painted to look like the boards of a ship and the ceiling was a sky dotted with fluffy clouds.

  “Someone’s very talented,” Angel said quietly, but I got the distinct impression he wasn’t a fan of the artwork.

  “My mother in her manic stage.”

  I let the statement hang in the air, like a spotlight showing off an unexpected detail in the paintings.

  Angel flicked a sympathetic gaze at me. “How old were you?”

  “What?”

  “How old were you when she did this?”

  I frowned at the mermaid. “Seven.”

  “Was that when she was hospitalized?”

  I sucked in a breath, surprised that he had such a clear view of my mother’s mental state. “Right after she finished it.”

  He nodded, as though I’d just s
hared a familiar story, instead of something that was slightly insane. “So you can understand why I need to be here for Dominic.”