Think Twice

She climbed down the steps, went to her own house, and tried the front door. Bear knew her step, and she waited for him to start barking, but he didn’t. That must mean that Mary had taken him to work with her, so she went back to the cab, where the driver was getting out of the front seat.

“Miss, is there a problem?” he asked, worried.

“I need to call my office to get my keys. Can I use your phone?”

“I ran out of battery when we hit the city.”

“Wait here. I have another idea.” Bennie went down the street and to an alley that ran behind the row houses on the block, including hers. She knew she had an old window to the basement, and she could bust it to get in. The alley was narrow, flanked on either side by back fences, and the cobblestones that made up its floor dipped in the middle, collecting rainwater and moss.

She walked to her own fence, a brick affair that contained her patio. She jumped up and tried to reach the top with her left hand, but she fell back, wincing in pain. Her right hand hurt, and her flip-flops had almost no purchase. She tried again, jumping higher, and made it the third time, flopping over the wide ledge. She was catching her breath when she heard someone shouting.

“Hey, you!” A woman’s voice echoed across the backyards. “What do you think you’re doing? I’m calling the cops!”

“Wait, no!” Bennie raised her head, but the motion threw her off-balance, sending her falling off the wall. She landed on the cobblestones, pain arcing through her skull. Her hand throbbed, and for a minute she thought it couldn’t get any worse, until the cabbie was standing over her, his hands on his hips.

“You’re trying to beat me out of the fare! You think I’m dumb ’cause I’m country?”

“No, wait,” Bennie started to say, getting up, and the cabbie yanked her to her feet by her arm.

“I want my fare! This took up my whole day!”

“Wait, listen, I have to get into my house. There’s a window-”

“Hell, no! You’re not gettin’ away with this!” The cabbie tugged her through the alley, to the sound of nearby sirens.

“Listen, I’m a lawyer, and we can straighten this all out.”

“A lawyer? What a load of bullcrap! Is that why you dressed like that?”

“I’m telling you, you’ll get your money.” Bennie looked down the street as a Philadelphia police cruiser shot toward them, its siren blaring and its lights flashing red. The cruiser cut the siren, and two uniformed officers emerged and hustled over. One was heavy and one was thin, and she flashed on Officers Villarreal and Dayne.

“Officers,” Bennie began, “I live here, and as soon as I get in my house, I can pay this driver.”

“Bullcrap!” the cabbie interjected. “She doesn’t live here. She’s not anything she says she is. I picked her up at the police station, and she’s trying to beat me out of the fare. You ever hear of a lawyer wears sequins?”

“Both of you, relax.” The heavy cop raised his hand, then turned to Bennie. “You say you live here?”

“Yes.”

“Which house is yours?”

“That one, 2133.” Bennie pointed with her good hand. “If I can get in the back window, I can get his money.”

“I understand.” The cop nodded. “Let’s see some ID, Miss.”

“I don’t have any, on me.” Bennie considered telling him the story, but tabled it for now. “Look, if I had to, I could go to my law office, get the keys, come back, and let myself in. Maybe I should do that, instead.”

The cabbie scoffed. “Don’t let her out of your sight, Officer! She’s a liar, plain and simple. If I told you what else I think she is, I wouldn’t be the gentleman I am. She owes me three hundred dollars!”

“Three hundred?” The cop’s eyes widened under the bill of his cap. “Okay, I’ve heard enough. Let’s go downtown, folks.”

Chapter Sixty-three

“What was that?” Alice followed Grady into her office, uneasy. She felt shaken by Fiorella Whoever, but couldn’t let it show. Even though the curse was crazy, did that woman really know who she was? How? Alice didn’t need any more surprises. The money had already been transferred, and all she had to do was conduct business as usual, keeping a lid on any suspicions for just a few more hours.

“I don’t know what that was. Something Italian, with a British accent?” Grady walked around her desk, sat down in her chair, then bent over and popped up with the yellow DHL envelope, to the Bahamian bank.

Oh no! “I must’ve dropped that.” Alice reached for the envelope, but Grady was already reading the address.

“BSB? What’s this, you representing them?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know you were doing banking matters. That’s tricky, especially offshore. What’s the case?”

“A small litigation matter. Contract dispute.”

“Who’s your local counsel in Nassau? I’ve used Lawrence Bastone. He’s pretty good and he won’t undermine you with the client.”

“I forget, I’m still freaked by Fiorella.” Alice had to get out of this conversation. She took the DHL envelope and set it aside. “You ever see anything like her?”

“No, she was a natural force, like a volcano. Mount Etna. Vesuvius. Pompeii.”

“Or merely delusional.”

“On the contrary, I think she had your number.”

Gulp.

“You are evil.” Grady smiled, in a sexy way.

“You got that right.” Alice kissed him, teasing him with her tongue. She let her fingers slip to his thigh, then slide to his crotch. He’d forget about BSB bank if his blood went elsewhere. “I am evil, I just don’t look it. Nobody knows what I’m capable of, except you.”

“Keep it that way.”

“I will.” Alice pressed herself into his lap, feeling the hardness there. His hand moved to her breast, and she knew she was home free.

Chapter Sixty-four

Mary wondered how things could be so right and so wrong, in the very same day. She may have won her first motion as a partner, but the only restaurant open for lunch this early was Japanese and her parents never ate anything but Italian. The waiter served their sushi on a sampan, and the DiNunzios recoiled as if it were a garbage barge.

“IT DOESN’T LOOK LIKE FISH TO ME, MARE.”

Her mother, still in her topcoat, shrank from the table.

“It is fish. It’s special fish.” Mary didn’t mention the uncooked part. She figured it wouldn’t help her argument.

“Mr. D, try it!” Judy chirped, reaching for her chopsticks. “You’ll love sushi. It’s delicious!”

“Ugh.” Fiorella turned up her Roman nose. “I dislike sushi.”

“Really.” Mary couldn’t hold her tongue another minute. “Well, if we hadn’t had to flee my office, because somebody at the table screamed at my new partner, then we could have waited until noon and had eggplant parm, which we all love.”

Fiorella didn’t reply.

“FIORELLA, SHE’S RIGHT. YOU SHOULD SAY YOU’RE SORRY FOR WHAT YOU DID.”

“Si,” her mother said softly, and Fiorella turned to Mary.

“I’m sorry. Let’s move on and forget this matter.”