Dog Collar Knockoff by Adrienne Giordano Read Free Book Online

you’re a manly man?”
    “Because I carry a big freakin’ weapon and I can’t be seen with a midget dog. Then again, carrying a big freakin’ weapon means I can have any dog I want.”
    “Whatever you say, Detective.”
    “Oh, ouch. Did I not just ask you to dinner?”
    “Yes.”
    “Then how about calling me Tim, because there’s something off about you calling me detective when I’m trying to take you on a date.”
    Just wait until you get me into handcuffs.
    Mother of God! Lucie threw her hand over her head. She had to be insane. Or lonely. Or just plain horny. Or maybe she simply needed someone to touch her. In a good way, a loving way that made her feel safe and secure and not… heartbroken. Sitting at home, waiting for Frankie to come back to her was hard. Brutally so. And Tim seemed like a nice guy. What could it hurt to go out for dinner?
    “Sure. That sounds fun.” Handcuffs notwithstanding. “Tim.”
    “I’m off this weekend. How about Friday night?”
    Friday night. Hmmm. She’d been out of this dating thing a while. Maybe she should pretend to be busy?
    Nah. Who had the energy for that?
    “Friday night is good.”
    “Great. I’ll pick you up at seven. Does that work?”
    “Yep. Sure does.”
    Just that fast, she had a date. With someone other than Frankie. Did anyone else hear that? The sound of her heart crumbling like an abandoned building? Think about the handcuffs.
    Lauren turned the corner. “Oscar did his thing in the bush.”
    “Okay!” She went back to Tim. “Sorry. The dog just made a deposit in his favorite bush.”
    She smacked her hand against her head. “Did that sound as bad as I think it did?”
    “I didn’t hear anything.”
    “You’re a good man, Tim O’Brien.”
    “You haven’t seen nothing yet, sweetheart.”

Chapter Three
    L ucie sat at her mother’s dining room table, her laptop open in front of her, researching Gomez paintings. After overhearing Bart Owens’ argument, a niggling feeling of him being involved in something crooked wouldn’t leave her. For the Lutz’s sake, she decided a little research on that painting was necessary.
    Across the table, Mom was dressed in a plain white T-shirt and lightweight modern cargo pants. Her poker night outfit. She liked the extra side pockets for holding her money. She sat quietly, hand-stitching a sample faux fur vest for one of the Ninja Bitches to test. If Mom and Ro could get the design on the first one right, they’d pitch a line of fur accessories to Frampton’s Department Store, their largest client.
    The front door—one of those vintage oak ones that weighed slightly less than a ton—flew open and smacked against the inside wall. Lucie flinched and Mom’s entire body jerked.
    “Ow!” Mom dropped the vest and shook her hand out. “Stuck myself.”
    Ro’s dramatic entrances were nothing new, but one day, she’d give someone in the Rizzo family a heart attack.
    “Ro!” Lucie said. “You just bludgeoned my mother.”
    Stomping toward them in a micro mini, a tank top, and her typical mile-high strappy sandals, Ro went straight to Mom, threw her arms around her and started bawling. “I’m sorry.”
    Lucie wasn’t one to swear, but crap. Ro. Crying? “Ro, it’s not that big of a deal. Just take it easy next time.”
    “There, there,” Mom cooed, rubbing Ro’s back. “It was just a little stick.”
    Still sobbing, Ro straightened up, grabbed a piece of loose silk Lucie had bought from the overpriced-but-worth-it fabric store in Lincoln Park and blew her nose on it.
    Had she lost her mind? “Hello? That was silk. Do you know what that stuff costs?”
    “I’ll pay you back. After I get my settlement check from my stripper-banging husband.”
    “No!” Mom said.
    Ro wailed again. “Yes! I’m done. He expects me to pretend like nothing happened. Like he didn’t humiliate me in front of an entire town. All for his re-election. If he’d act the least bit sorry, maybe I could stand by him.