Scared Stiff by Annelise Ryan Page B

great bosom buddy, if you know what I mean.” In my mind’s eye I can see him wiggling his eyebrows. “And you’re smart to get right to it while you still have them on high beams, if you get my drift.”
    Sadly, I did. But despite the fact that any moron would get one of Lucien’s crass innuendos, he clarifies.
    “You’re no spring chicken, anymore, Mattie. With tatas the size of yours, it won’t be long before you’ll have to pierce your belly button so you’ve got something you can hook your bra onto.” His comment makes me straighten up and pull my shoulders back. “Dally too long and you’ll be well beyond your freshness date. I’m only telling you this, Sweet Cheeks, because you’re family and I want you to be happy.”
    I mentally calculate the odds of anyone Lucien would fix me up with making me happy and figure I’d be better off strutting my stuff on the streets.
    “So give me some guidelines,” he goes on. “Are you looking for a serious commitment kind of thing, or just a fuck buddy?”
    “I’m fine in that regard, Lucien, but thanks.”
    “You sure? ’Cause I got a friend who’s also going through a divorce and he’s been answering the bone-a-phone so much lately he’s about worn his johnson out. “
    “Yes, Lucien. I’m sure.” I barely take a breath before my next sentence, not wanting to give him another chance to pursue his current line of thinking. “I’m calling because I want to know if you’ll consider representing someone who I don’t think can afford your usual fees.”
    “You want me to do a pro bono thing?”
    “Well, discounted rather than totally free, but yes.”
    “Who, and what’s the rap?”
    I fill him in on the case against Erik, sharing what I know, which to be honest, isn’t much.
    “You think this guy is innocent?” Lucien asks me.
    “I do, but I don’t have anything concrete to base it on right now,” I admit. “I need to look into some things.”
    “Are there any other suspects?”
    “Nothing definite yet, but there’s a boyfriend I need to talk to, some new shrink here in town.”
    Lucien groans. I know from past conversations with him that he doesn’t like shrinks of any kind. I suspect it’s because he’s had dealings with them in the past and been told things he didn’t want to hear, giving him a prejudice I’m hoping will work in my favor for now.
    “Okay,” Lucien says. “Because you’re family I’ll talk to the guy and look at the case against him, but I’m not making any promises yet.”
    “That’s fine. Let me know what you think after you do.”
    “Will do, Sweet Cheeks.”
    “Thanks, Lucien.”
    “Don’t thank me yet,” he cautions. “I’m not promising to take the case, and even if I do, you don’t know what I might ask for as a return favor.”
    The possibilities are frightening.
    “I’m sure we can work something out,” I say warily.
    “Oh, yes,” Lucien says, as I suppress a shudder. “I’m sure we can.”

Chapter 13
     
    I stop at home long enough to check on my kitten, Rubbish. He is glad to see me and mews cutely as he runs figure eights around my feet, darn near tripping me up. After a few minutes of kitty nuzzling, I get a call on my cell from the office. It’s Cass, our receptionist/file clerk/secretary. As an amateur thespian, Cass likes to dress up and play her roles on a 24-7 basis. As a result, in the month or so I’ve worked there I’ve seen her come to work dressed as a sixties-era hippie, Little Orphan Annie, a pregnant yuppie mom, an old woman, and a Goth queen. Her makeup, hair, clothing, and body language are usually so well done that if it wasn’t for her voice, I wouldn’t know it was Cass most of the time. She’s good enough with accents that even the voice isn’t a guarantee. I wonder what she looks like today.
    “I have some work for you, Mattie,” she says when I answer. “Izzy is getting his annual physical and he’s close to being done but needs a little more time.