Something that would have thrilled me just a few days earlier had my stomach in knots today. “Sure.” I grinned at her, hoping it hid the conflicting emotions I felt. “As long as we don’t have to tell him how we ‘made it official.’”
“Heh. Yeah, no.” She grimaced. “It’s going to be hard enough for him to deal with the whole ‘boyfriend’ thing without putting that image into his head.”
“Good deal. You want to go over together?”
“I’m going early to help cook, but I’ll text you the address. It’s right on the Main Line, really close to the train stop.”
“Time?” It occurred to me that I was way more interested in how soon I’d be seeing her again than how soon I’d be getting into Tommy’s house.
“Sevenish?”
“I’ll see you then. Have fun in class.”
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, yeah. Microeconomics is a party.”
I chuckled and bent down once more to kiss her on the forehead. “See you at seven.”
I climbed the wooden stairs to my efficiency, thinking about dinner that evening. I knew I should be happy that I’d finally gotten what I’d come for—or at least was closer to it—but I couldn’t shake the feeling of Spencer in my arms last night or the image of her asleep in bed next to me. I couldn’t stand the idea that I’d lose the chance to ever see her again. If I found the ledger tonight, I’d be on my way back to the Village by this time tomorrow.
But then, what were the chances Tommy would keep something like that just laying around? Odds were good I might not even find it tonight. Or ever, really. The thought of failure suddenly didn’t seem so bad, and I quickened my pace up the rickety steps.
The smell of cigarette smoke caught my attention before I heard the reedy voice. “Well, well. Look who finally decided to show up.”
I stopped short, astonished by the sight of Judd Sheedy leaning back against my door, dangling a burning cigarette between his knees.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I’d assumed the Mercedes I’d passed on my way up the driveway belonged to a guest of my landlord’s, but I shouldn’t have missed the Louisiana plates. My time with Spencer was making me soft.
“Pop was starting to worry that you might be fucking around up here on his dime.” He flicked the cigarette at my feet. “I came to make sure the job gets done.”
I swept the smoldering butt off the stairs with the side of my bare foot. “Thanks, but I’m doing fine on my own. You can tell Pop that when you get home.”
“Nuh-uh.” He shook his head. “I’m staying until you get the book or I get it myself.”
The idea of Judd Sheedy getting anywhere near Spencer had me to the landing and yanking him to his feet by his shirt collar before I had time to think about it. I slammed him back against the door.
“I don’t need your help,” I said through gritted teeth. “Just stay out of my way.”
Judd flashed his rat-like sneer. “Easy, Buffer. This ain’t much of a welcome. You haven’t even invited me in for tea. What would Maggie say?”
I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to calm down. He hadn’t even mentioned Spencer, so there was no use getting into a fight in full view of my landlord’s house and getting us both kicked off the property. I let him go and nudged in between him and the door so I could unlock it.
“Come on.” I yanked the door and stepped aside. “Get in here before someone sees you and thinks I’ve started taking in vagrants.”
“Nice,” Judd said. “Mr. Big Shot pretends to be in college and suddenly thinks he’s better than me. Just remember, you haven’t found that book yet and odds are you never will. You think you were dog shit in the clan before? Just wait until you have to go back empty-handed.”
I slammed the door behind me and flicked a light switch to illuminate the dim apartment. “Fuck off.”
Judd crossed to the refrigerator. “So, Buffer…” He helped himself to a long swig of milk straight from the carton and swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “What’s your plan? Assuming you even have one.”
“As a matter of fact, I’m having dinner at Tommy’s tonight.” I knew I shouldn’t have let him get under my skin—the less Judd knew the better—but I couldn’t help taking the bait when he started in on me that way.
“And it only took you, what, a month?” He tossed the open carton back inside the refrigerator, and I saw a stream of milk spill out before he slammed the door shut.
I grabbed a rag from the counter. “You’re a damn slob, you know it?” I shoved him aside and opened the door again. The carton had nearly emptied itself, and milk pooled on the bottom shelf. I sopped it up and threw the wet rag into the sink.
“What do I care about cleaning up? That’s what women are for. And pussies like you, I guess.” He laughed at his own joke and made himself comfortable at the kitchen table, sitting in one chair and putting his feet up on the other. “So tell me about this dinner.”
“There’s nothing to tell. I’m going to Tommy’s around seven, and I’ll look for the ledger while I’m there.”
“That’s your big plan?”
“Do you have a better one?”
“What if I do? This ain’t my show. You’re the one who wants to be the big hero.”
“I thought you came to make sure the job was done right, Prince.”
“I’m here to make sure you don’t fuck it up,
I kicked the chair out from under his feet, and they crashed to the floor, pulling him to the edge of his seat. He sprang out of the chair and slammed his hands into my chest, shoving me backward.
I hit the refrigerator and sent magnets scattering. I was back in his face in a heartbeat, though, my hands clenched into fists. “You just remember who Pop sent here in the first place, asshole. If he thought you were even close to smart enough, don’t you think he would have sent you instead?”
“He knows I’m good for more than finding some little book. I was out on the road while you wasted all your time in school. Playing fetch is all you’re good for.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Prince. Maybe one of these days you’ll actually believe it.”
“If you didn’t have to look presentable for your little dinner tonight, I’d wail the tar out of you, you little shit. Jimmy Boy isn’t around to protect you this time, so don’t push your damn luck.”
We were in each other’s faces now, so close I could feel flecks of his spit on my cheek when he threatened me. My muscles jumped with the desire to pummel him. “I’m pretty sure I can kick your ass without you landing a punch if you’re that worried about keeping my face pretty.”
“In your dreams, Buffer. Maybe I should fuck you up so I can take your place at dinner. I saw a picture of Costello’s daughter, and I gotta say, I can see why you’ve been taking your time with that hot little piece of ass.”
I shoved him so hard it knocked him from his feet, and he flew backward, landing on the table, which immediately collapsed under him. He scrambled back to his feet, sending pieces of broken wood sliding across the kitchen floor. He slammed his body into me and drove me back into the fridge, which groaned as it inched backward, gouging out strips of linoleum. I lowered my head into his shoulder and aimed my fists into his sides, one after the other. I shoved him again, all my weight behind the effort, and he stumbled back. His foot caught a broken table leg, and he crashed to the ground a second time. I threw myself on top of him, intent on unleashing every bit of frustration, anger, and uncertainty I’d been keeping at bay since I’d realized how I really felt about Spencer. I let my arms fly, not all that concerned with where they landed. Judd defended himself with one hand and strained to reach something underneath him with the other. I assumed he was groping for a broken table leg, and I wasn’t really concerned about his ability to land a blow with it. But when something cold and hard pressed into the skin under my chin, I froze.
“That’s what I thought.” Judd panted. He kept the barrel of the gun tight under my jaw and forced me back so he could push himself up to sitting. “Now you want to rethink that whole kicking-my-ass thing?”
