intercom button. “Franky...I mean, ah…Mr. Luvici? There’s a Scarlet Jones here to see you.”
There was a thud from the direction of his office. A big one. Like the sound of a body, or a bowling ball hitting the floor. Darla rushed over to the office door and swung it wide open. She gasped.
Luvici was on his butt on the floor, about a dozen papers scattered around him, his leather swivel chair rotated by itself about a foot behind him. Luvici’s mouth was still slack jawed, a stunned gaze on his grizzled face.
And then recognition dawned over that ugly face, and an even uglier smile curled on his lips as he took in the sight of Lucy and her denim clad legs.
“Lucy Hart. My, my...you’ve grown up so very, very nicely.” He heaved himself up off the floor and brushed off his knees and pudgy bottom. “Sorry about that, I misheard what Darla here said.” He squinted his beady brown eyes at his secretary.
“Nope,” Darla said, shrugging her shoulders and squatting primly in her way-too-tight skirt and started picking up the papers Luvici had dropped. “She said her name was Scarlet Jones.”
Luvici turned and squinted his little weasel eyes at Lucy now, clearly not liking the turn things had suddenly taken. He was over forty years old, had a full head of shortly clipped blond and gray hair, broad shoulders and a sagging chest that melted into a pronounced belly. And though he was tall, and the shoulders and hair should’ve given the illusion of stature, his cheap rumpled dress shirt and tie made him look low rent.
But he did have pretty blue eyes, and if his smile wasn’t so lecherous, he’d be handsome.
Lucy forced a beatific smile on her face as she said, “Sure did, Franky. I really need to talk to you. Alone.” Lucy let her eyes flash to Darla, and then meaningfully back to him.
Luvici didn’t look happy. Actually, he looked ill, and every second he stood there, squinting malignantly at Lucy, the redder his face got. Finally he let out a big sigh and raked a hand across the back of his neck.
“Sure thing. I always have time for Adam Hart’s little girl.”
Lucy stood up, closed her eyes for a second before walking into Luvici’s office. She swung her hips as she walked, making sure he didn’t miss it.
By the time she turned around, Luvici was pushing Darla out the door, slamming it shut on his own thumb. He cursed under his breath as he put his injured digit in his mouth.
He hurt himself because he couldn’t keep his eyes off me, Lucy smiled with triumph. She sat slowly, letting him get a real long look. Maybe this won’t be as hard as I thought.
The office reeked of cigarette smoke and vinyl office furniture. Luvici’s desk was big, clunky, and made of painted green aluminum. Tacky, much like Luvici himself. Dust motes fluttered through the streams of sunlight coming through the window.
He came around to his side of the desk and watched as Lucy crossed her legs again. His grimy tongue slithered out from his mouth and licked his cracked lips.
“So, little Lucy Hart...whatever can I do for you?”
First, never say my name again.
“I so totally need your help...the teensiest little favor.” She batted her eyelashes at him.
“And what would that be?” He leaned back in his leather chair, and was, as usual, undressing Lucy with his eyes.
Lucy quelled a shiver of revulsion and instead met his lecherous eyes with a cool gaze. “I need some of Daddy’s money.”
Luvici just sat there, his expression never changing. “Money?”
“Yes, I need some of the money you hid for Daddy. I’ve got lots of stuff to get before I go to college. And then there’s tuition money, new clothes...and a car.”
Luvici raised his hand to stop her. “I’m sorry, Lucy, but what money are you talking about?”
She leaned forward conspiratorially. “You know. The money you saved from the IRS. The money you
There was a thud from the direction of his office. A big one. Like the sound of a body, or a bowling ball hitting the floor. Darla rushed over to the office door and swung it wide open. She gasped.
Luvici was on his butt on the floor, about a dozen papers scattered around him, his leather swivel chair rotated by itself about a foot behind him. Luvici’s mouth was still slack jawed, a stunned gaze on his grizzled face.
And then recognition dawned over that ugly face, and an even uglier smile curled on his lips as he took in the sight of Lucy and her denim clad legs.
“Lucy Hart. My, my...you’ve grown up so very, very nicely.” He heaved himself up off the floor and brushed off his knees and pudgy bottom. “Sorry about that, I misheard what Darla here said.” He squinted his beady brown eyes at his secretary.
“Nope,” Darla said, shrugging her shoulders and squatting primly in her way-too-tight skirt and started picking up the papers Luvici had dropped. “She said her name was Scarlet Jones.”
Luvici turned and squinted his little weasel eyes at Lucy now, clearly not liking the turn things had suddenly taken. He was over forty years old, had a full head of shortly clipped blond and gray hair, broad shoulders and a sagging chest that melted into a pronounced belly. And though he was tall, and the shoulders and hair should’ve given the illusion of stature, his cheap rumpled dress shirt and tie made him look low rent.
But he did have pretty blue eyes, and if his smile wasn’t so lecherous, he’d be handsome.
Lucy forced a beatific smile on her face as she said, “Sure did, Franky. I really need to talk to you. Alone.” Lucy let her eyes flash to Darla, and then meaningfully back to him.
Luvici didn’t look happy. Actually, he looked ill, and every second he stood there, squinting malignantly at Lucy, the redder his face got. Finally he let out a big sigh and raked a hand across the back of his neck.
“Sure thing. I always have time for Adam Hart’s little girl.”
Lucy stood up, closed her eyes for a second before walking into Luvici’s office. She swung her hips as she walked, making sure he didn’t miss it.
By the time she turned around, Luvici was pushing Darla out the door, slamming it shut on his own thumb. He cursed under his breath as he put his injured digit in his mouth.
He hurt himself because he couldn’t keep his eyes off me, Lucy smiled with triumph. She sat slowly, letting him get a real long look. Maybe this won’t be as hard as I thought.
The office reeked of cigarette smoke and vinyl office furniture. Luvici’s desk was big, clunky, and made of painted green aluminum. Tacky, much like Luvici himself. Dust motes fluttered through the streams of sunlight coming through the window.
He came around to his side of the desk and watched as Lucy crossed her legs again. His grimy tongue slithered out from his mouth and licked his cracked lips.
“So, little Lucy Hart...whatever can I do for you?”
First, never say my name again.
“I so totally need your help...the teensiest little favor.” She batted her eyelashes at him.
“And what would that be?” He leaned back in his leather chair, and was, as usual, undressing Lucy with his eyes.
Lucy quelled a shiver of revulsion and instead met his lecherous eyes with a cool gaze. “I need some of Daddy’s money.”
Luvici just sat there, his expression never changing. “Money?”
“Yes, I need some of the money you hid for Daddy. I’ve got lots of stuff to get before I go to college. And then there’s tuition money, new clothes...and a car.”
Luvici raised his hand to stop her. “I’m sorry, Lucy, but what money are you talking about?”
She leaned forward conspiratorially. “You know. The money you saved from the IRS. The money you
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