Part 2 (1/2)
”Esther . . .” Lopez let his breath out, sagged back against the couch cus.h.i.+ons, and looked at the ceiling. ”I just had had to get interested in a starving actress.” He glanced at me and added, ”One with no sense of self-preservation.” to get interested in a starving actress.” He glanced at me and added, ”One with no sense of self-preservation.”
I protested, ”I have plenty of-”
”Still hanging out with Max?” he asked abruptly.
Another awkward subject. ”Sometimes.”
Apart from enduring Golly Gee's sour temper at work, I hadn't encountered much Evil since we had eliminated Hieronymus, but I had become fond of Max. So I'd seen him a few times since then. Since Max was nearly 350 years old (though he didn't look a day over 70), he was certainly not a rival for Lopez. But Lopez thought he was crazy and probably dangerous, and he didn't like me having anything to do with him.
”Well,” Lopez said after a long moment, ”at least I can keep an eye on you at Stella's.”
I frowned. ”You suddenly have time on your hands? Has the crime rate plummeted in the Sixth Precinct, or something?”
He blinked. ”Oh. I didn't tell you, did I?”
”Tell me what?”
”That's what I wanted to celebrate tonight. My transfer to OCCB finally came through.”
”It did? Good!” I knew he'd been waiting for it for a while. ”But . . . I can't remember what OCCB means,” I admitted.
”Organized Crime Control Bureau.”
”Oh. I guess that's how you know so much about Bella Stella and the Gambellos. Organized crime. You've been studying up for your new post.”
”What happens at Stella's is pretty common knowledge. But, yeah, I take an interest.” He eyed me. ”Anyhow, since I'll be keeping an eye on the Gambellos, I should be able to keep an eye on you while you're working at Stella's.”
”I don't need anyone to keep an eye on me.” But I smiled at him. I kind of liked that he felt protective of me. I wasn't used to that, and it made the Big Apple seem a little cozier.
”All the same . . .” He smiled at me, too.
”As soon as I get a night off, maybe we could take another shot at going out and celebrating?” I suggested.
”Not for a couple of weeks,” he said with regret. ”Tomorrow I've got to go out to Long Island for two weeks of training. I'll be working long hours, so I'm going to stay with a cousin out there. And I'm going to Nyack next weekend.”
”You do lead a life of glamour.” Nyack was a suburb across the Hudson. Lopez had grown up there.
”It's my dad's birthday,” he said. ”I thought about asking you to come with me . . .”
”I'm nowhere near ready to meet your parents,” I said firmly.
”Yeah, I thought that's what you'd say.”
”So you were planning to wine and dine me tonight, get me into bed, and then abandon me for two weeks?”
”That was the plan,” he admitted.
”I'm pretty sure that makes you a cad,” I told him.
He grinned. ”I'm coming back. I just wanted to mark my territory before I go.”
”Mark your your territory?” territory?”
”A woman who could forget I was coming over tonight might forget me completely in two weeks,” he said innocently. ”Unless I make a strong enough impression.”
”You're pretty confident about the effect of marking your territory,” I noted.
”I just don't want some other guy stepping in while I'm off training to be a more effective officer of the peace.”
”I'm going to be on my feet ten hours a day at Stella's while you're gone,” I pointed out. ”The only man likely to get my attention is a foot ma.s.seur.”
”I give a pretty good foot ma.s.sage,” he said.
”Yeah?”
He lowered his lashes and nudged my foot with his. ”We can start with that when I get back . . . and see where it leads.”
Heat crept through me as I looked at him and felt the gentle pressure of his foot against mine. Securing an income a few minutes ago had revived me a little. I was just about to reconsider the possibility of taking a shower when the phone rang again.
Feeling optimistic now, I said, ”That could be my agent.”
I answered the phone. Then I realized my mistake.
”Hi, Mom,” I said morosely.
That sense of looming dread I'd felt when Stella called had been accurate, just a little ahead of schedule.
”Oh, I'm okay,” I lied in response to my mother's opening question.
Lopez rose to his feet and made leaving motions.
”Just a second, Mom.” I rose to my feet, too, put my hand over the receiver, and said to Lopez, ”Two weeks?”
He nodded. ”Foot ma.s.sage.”
”Maybe I'll ma.s.sage something of yours, too,” I said.
He grinned. ”I'll show you my favorite places.”
As he headed for the door, I said, ”You're not even going to kiss me good night?”
”With your mom practically in the room? No way.”
”But-”
”Two weeks from now,” he said. ”Kisses and . . . whatever else you ask for nicely.”