A/N: All familiar characters/etc. belong to Janet Evanovich, only my words are my own. I am not making any profit from this.
Thank you for all of the favorites/follows/reviews and to those of you who've been reading along. I am sooo crazy excited to have finally started the second part of the story (mostly because Ranger, obviously). I hope you like it and I promise there's more Ranger to come!
Also, I'd like to apologize in advance for the terrible English to Spanish translations… My high school Spanish skills have completely atrophied, and, well, google can only do so much.
And yay for Tricky Twenty-Two coming out! Guess what I'm doing this weekend? Yup, binge reading some Stephanie Plum.
Part II. "I WISH on a star that somewhere you are thinking of me too." - Selena, "Dreaming of You"
Chapter 9
Stephanie Plum POV - 21 MAY 2015 (Present Day)
"And this is my beau, Luke Morrison!" Grandma Mazur announced from her position tucked snugly into his side. This morning, Grandma announced that she'd set up a post Mommy and Me lunch for me and the twins to finally meet Luke.
They actually made a really cute, geriatric couple, Luke's eyes mirroring the mischief in Grandma's. Luke was about seven inches taller than Grandma at 5'9" with close cropped white hair and a military background judging from his sharply creased khaki pants and rigid posture.
"Hi Luke, I'm Stephanie," I greeted cheerily, reaching out my hand to shake his weathered one, "and these two are Theo and Serafina," I added, ruffling their hair as they stared raptly at Luke, trying to figure out who this new person was.
"It's a pleasure to meet you dear, although I feel like I know you already after all of Edie's stories," Luke replied genially before kneeling to greet the twins.
"Alright, let's get the gummy bears settled into these highchairs! I'm starving!" Grandma exclaimed, scooping up Theo to settle him into the highchair between us while I did the same for Serafina. I snapped bibs on them with minimal fussing while Luke chivalrously helped Grandma settle into her seat.
Over a bruschetta appetizer I caught Grandma Mazur and Luke up on w*ish and plans to move into the new house in a few days and I got to know a little about Luke. He served in the Marines for a few years and opened his own mechanic shop. After a rather contentious divorce, he ended up moving to Vermont where he and one of his marine buddies grew their business into a handful of mechanic shops. A few years ago he retired from actively managing the mechanic shops and moved back to Trenton to be near his two sons, Luke Jr. and Charles, and his five grandchildren.
"So Grandma, how has the apartment hunt been going?" I asked as I cleaned up a smudge of squash mush that managed to escape Theo's mouth.
"Well, I've narrowed it down to a couple of places, but it just feels like such a huge decision!" Grandma explained. "And so much to consider. I mean, I really liked an apartment at Coral Gables because it was spacious and has a great pool, but my friend Henrietta's sister lives there and she's always trying to steal my men!" she explained, with an outraged expression. "And there is no way I'm giving her a chance to dig her hooks into this one," she added, hooking her arm with Luke's with a surprisingly sappy smile.
"She's your Joyce Barnhardt!" I exclaimed, recalling the woman who's naked dalliances with my husband of five long months saved me from a bleak future as Mrs. Dickie Orr.
"Don't say that! Don't you even think that!" Grandma replied, aghast at the comparison.
"Well, that's no good. Any other places on your radar?" I chortled at her reaction.
"There's also Horizons Apartments, but you know Madge Wilson lives there and she's apparently been sleeping with my friend Irma Patterson's husband. It all came out a few days ago and everyone at the Clip 'n Curl is in a tizzy," Grandma continued, waving her arms around.
"Wait, wasn't Irma having an affair with someone in Newark?" I asked, trying to catch up to the drama in Grandma's ever widening social circle while I re-fastened Serafina's bib. Even the unicorn galloping on a rainbow bib I let her pick out (or as much picking as babbling and pointing can imply) didn't sway her fussy tendencies.
"Irma's still seeing that fella, but she likes making time with her husband too. Besides, just 'cause she's cheating doesn't mean she wants to be cheated on. Although, I did try to explain to her that it was fair, considering."
"I think Rush Crossing seems like the best fit," Luke added, "it's newer and has a clubhouse for people to hang out and a lot of semi-organized activities because most of the residents are older and retired."
"That does sound nice. And it's in the Burg but not too close to mom, so you'll have some freedom," I added with a conspiratorial wink, dipping another piece of tortellini in pesto and popping it into my mouth.
"Oh, and the hot tub!" Grandma squealed with a roguish glint in her eyes, "I have some plans for that hot tub."
After sneaking a peak at Luke who's blush was rising almost as quickly as mine, I decided to just focus on wiping the drab smears from my raspberries' faces and ignore Grandma Mazur who was very overtly making flirty, mushy eyes at Luke.
Stephanie Plum POV - 21 MAY 2015 (Present Day)
"Oh my gosh! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Mona Bradbury's exclaim shot through my cell phone speaker.
I was calling the people we'd selected yesterday to let them know they'd been chosen as w*ish franchise owners for our first phase of expansion. I'd already called Daniel Bellerose in New York City and Sophia Wyatt in Las Vegas and was now informing Mona Bradbury who was going to open a w*ish storefront on Rodeo Drive. Mona had traded in her reality television mogul husband for an MBA and was eager to start the next phase of her life. She had a wonderfully dry sense of humor, daring sense of style and tons of great ideas for w*ish.
"You're welcome and congratulations!" I replied, mirroring her excitement. "I just wanted to call and give you the good news. You'll get an email later on today with the contract and a proposed timeline for getting w*ish up and running in California."
"I can't wait, I have so many ideas!" Mona replied.
"Awesome! I look forward to hearing them. Please try to get the contract signed, notarized and back to me by Monday so we can get started."
"I will. Absolutely!"
"Thank you. I know it's quick, but we've got a pretty tight schedule and that'll give us a week to get the location setup and staff hired for the opening," I explained.
"Okay. I've already put out some unofficial feelers for staff members, so I have a few people in mind. I was wondering if I could pick your brain about hiring people after the contract things are handled?" she asked, living up to my impression of her as someone who was rarely idle.
"Definitely. I was going to schedule a conference call on Monday between all five of you w*ish boutique owners and myself to go over setting up the store and to talk about things like hiring staff," I explained, the feverish excitement I felt at the forthcoming developments. "And with respect to hiring, I trust your judgment, but I would prefer to have the security company I used to work for run all of the background checks. They'll give you a major break on the cost and the benefit of their impressive experience."
"Background checks? I hadn't even thought of that…" Mona muttered to herself. "That sounds great. I am psyched to get started!"
I beamed at her attitude, "Well, we've got a pretty tight schedule, but I really think we can make it. Anyways, I'm emailing you the contract as we speak. Feel free to call if you have any questions or concerns."
"Okay. And thank you for your call. You made my week!" Mona replied before we said our goodbyes.
I shuffled back into the nursery to check up on the twins before calling Ariana Solares, our choice from the Miami candidates. She had a bit of a rough childhood but turned it around after her best friend was killed in a drunk driving accident. Her resume was less padded than the others', but she was a hard working and very smart. She'd put herself through college while working an assortment retail and hospitality positions and w*ish would be her first opportunity to actually manage something all her own.
"Hey raspberries! What are you up to?" I queried, kneeling down on to the carpet next to their playpen. I'd set them up with blocks, stuffed animals and a stacking cup game to keep them busy while I made the calls and began packing up for the move.
I received a chorus of "Mama, Mama, Mama" from both Serafina and Theo as they clamored for my attention in their adorable, matching, two-peas-in-a-pod onesies.
Stephanie Plum POV - 18 NOV 2013 (18 Months Ago)
Damn it, I thought to myself as I paced in front of Global National Bank in downtown Newark in my business finest. I'd officially exhausted all avenues of financing for w*ish and had struck out spectacularly. What was I going to do? According to my calculations, I needed a business loan to match at least half of my current savings to get w*ish started. Ideally, I could get the bank to completely match my savings, but at this point I'd take anything I could get.
I was making my third pass past the double glass doors to the bank, my pitch portfolio clutched between my arm and my side as I furiously rubbed my temples when I collided into someone. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," I exclaimed, picking up my black, leather portfolio off of the gritty sidewalk and looking up at the person I'd inadvertently knocked into.
"Stephanie! How wonderful to see you," Alexander Ramos' gravelly voice filled the air as he reached down to help me up. He was wearing a navy pinstriped suit and flanked by two he-men wearing matching black suits stretched tightly over unnecessarily bulging muscles.
"Mr. Ramos, it's nice to see you too," I replied, leaning in to let him buss my cheek while straightening my slate grey pencil skirt and ruffled, ice-blue silk blouse. "How are things going with your sons? Hannibal and Homer?" I asked. We'd met when I was doing surveillance on his property for RangeMan. Alexander had used me as his getaway driver to escape his overbearing sons for some ouzo and a smoke at his local haunt.
"Call me Alexander, please. And my sons are well, probably better than they deserve," he replied, tsking and shaking his head disappointedly. "I'm just glad we were able to smooth things over with your boss after my idiot son tried to frame him for murder," Alexander replied, hooking my hand into his arm and leading me into the granite floored foyer of Global National Bank. "Enough about me, how are you? You haven't been to Deal lately and I have missed our occasional drink despite you refusing my generous marriage proposal," he joked jovially.
"I'm mostly the same, except I recently moved to Newark and am trying to get a little business started. That's actually why I'm here today, I had a meeting with the bank," I replied, ignoring the prickly feeling on my arms at being back in the bank that most recently rejected me as too risky an investment.
"Well, I can't wait to see what it is. I know you will be wonderful at whatever you choose to do," Alexander commented, though his expression of confidence and support turned to one of curiosity as he took in my dispirited expression. "What is it, krotída mou (Greek: my firecracker)?"
"Oh nothing. It's just the whole new business owner thing is a little trickier than I expected. But it'll be worth it," I said with a vehement, hair tousling nod, as much to reassure myself as Alexander.
"There is no need to hide anything from me, especially when I could help. Now, what is wrong?" Alexander asked, supportively yet sternly, his whiskey gaze fixed sharply on my eyes.
I could feel my eyes glisten, but I blinked away the tears that were oddly quick to arrive over the past few weeks. Until now, no one had really pried too deeply into how my progress on w*ish was going. They just assumed I was doing well. And the designing part was, without a doubt. I had several sketch books filled with designs for a myriad of lines that I was beyond excited for the women of New Jersey to see. The financing portion of things was proving to be particularly difficult and an ever growing hurdle I couldn't seem to find a way past. There was something about being turned away by the eighth bank that was making me feel like a resounding failure. "I've just been having a little trouble getting a business loan," I explained before continuing on quickly, "I have quite a bit in savings, but it's not enough if I want to do it right. The financing is the only thing that's really holding me up."
"I see. It is ridiculous how these banks work, no? They irresponsibly help people buy homes they cannot afford and destroy the real estate market because they are greedy and now they get government bailout money that you and I pay for yet they tell us that we are a bad investment," he scoffed before adding "And they call me a criminal. Malakíes (Greek: Bullshit)" while patting me on the arm.
"Thanks, and sorry. I'm just getting a little frustrated," I replied.
"Not to worry. You are brilliant, I knew the moment I met you. Don't let what these stupid bankers say get to you, they know nothing," he said matter-of-factly, brushing off my worry and inspiring me to consider doing the same. "Now, tell me what you need, I will write you a check, yes?" he said with surprising nonchalance, as if he didn't just offer to solve all of my problems with the casualness of handing me a cup of coffee. He pulled his checkbook and a fancy silver pen from his suit pocket, poised to fill it out.
"Oh no! No, Mr. Ram-Alexander, I replied hastily, grabbing his wrist to stop him. "I wasn't looking for a handout or trying to hint or make you feel obligated-"
"No one is feeling obligated, dear. Besides, I believe in you and your dream, which is?"
"Oh, I'm starting a lingerie boutique called w*ish. I've already got most of the designs ready and a few locations and manufacturers scouted out. Once I convince one of these banks to bet one me, I'll be up and running in no time!" I gushed.
"Lingerie, now that is an intriguing, solid investment," he said, with a wide smile. "You know, I think the bank's short-sightedness could very well be my fortune."
"And how is that?" I queried, unsure as to where this conversation was taking us.
"It just so happens that I know of a wonderful investment firm, Vasiliou Ventures, which would be very interested in you and your w*ish," he offered excitedly, with a wide, genuine smile.
"Really?" I questioned, unable to keep the optimism from my voice. "I… wow, I would really appreciate the opportunity to at least make my pitch."
"Ah. There's krotída mou (Greek: my firecracker) and the… how you say? Gumption? Yes, gumption that makes you, you. So few women have that nowadays," he added, shaking his head in disappointment. Personally, I think if you only spend time with women who's greatest ambition is to fulfill their potential as trophy wives, you can't really complain about lack of gumption… or reading skills for that matter. "Now, I must be going, but I will have the secretary at Vasiliou Ventures call you to set up a meeting," he explained before giving me a hug, bussing my cheek and heading off to his meeting, leaving me stunned and slack-jawed. And hopeful. Very, very hopeful.
Camilla Manoso POV - 21 MAY 2015 (Present Day)
"To the happy couple!" I said, raising my bellini to toast Daniella and Olivia along with their close friends and the rest of the women in family. We were having a little brunch to start of our Bridal Shower day before heading out for some facials and massages at Indulgence Day Spa, dinner, and dancing. I'd planned the day's events with my sisters and sister-in-law to be low key and relaxing per the brides' wishes, and neither wanted a wild 'last' night out.
"So," my eldest sister Celia said as everyone started munching on the tapas style brunch items, "I was thinking we could do presents while we eat, because we're running a little behind."
"Hey, we needed our beauty sleep!" Daniella huffed, jokingly. A wide smile gracing her caramel features and eyes lit up in joy. Yesterday, I'd finally convinced her to stop trying to micromanage things and just enjoy their wedding. My plea was as much for her benefit as it was for my sanity. I couldn't handle any more bridezilla-ness from either of them. I was in marketing and not wedding planning for a reason.
"Please, you two look amazing. You're practically glowing!" Maya, Olivia's friend from Boston, said. She worked at SafeLink, a domestic violence hotline that collaborated heavily with Reach, the non-profit organization Olivia worked at to lobby for and obtain financing for several domestic violence and homeless shelters in Boston.
"She's right, you both look beautiful," my mom added, brimming with excitement and once again on the edge of tears. She usually ended up teary for the entire length of wedding festivities if my sisters' and brother's weddings were anything to go by. She was seated next to Abuela Rosa (Spanish: Grandma Rosa), my paternal grandmother, both sharing a quiet conversation while occasionally chiming into ours.
"I believe I heard something about presents," Sofia Santos said as she walked in and plopped into the seat next to me, toting two plum and gold w*ish bags. She exuberantly handed a bags to each Daniella and Olivia after checking to see which was which. "Me first!"
"Okay!" Olivia replied, gleefully accepting the gift bag.
"Thanks Sofia, but you didn't need to get us anything," Daniella added, tossing the gold tissue paper from the bag onto the floor and pulling out a flirty satin and lace slip from w*ish's soon to be retired glam*ish line. "Wow, this is beautiful," she murmured, running her fingers over the fine lace details, "but way too much. You're a student, you shouldn't be spending money on me like this!" she added.
"These are beautiful, Sofia," Olivia added, holding up her red and purple lingerie set for everyone to admire, "but Dani's right, it's too much. We're just glad you could join us to get pampered for the day."
"Come on guys, I wanted to!" Sofia replied, tossing her dark hair sassily over her shoulder and snatching up a bellini from the tray in the center of the table, "besides, Steph gave me a mega employee discount," she shrugged and huffed when my mom took the drink from her hands with a chastising look. "Tia (Spanish: Aunt)?"
"You're only twenty, sobrina (Spanish: niece)," my mother replied after a lengthy, mocking sip of what was Sofia's drink.
"If I had a hook up like that, I'd be buying stuff for me and my friends all the time," Mia, my older brother Raphael's wife said, with a noticeable edge. She tended to be selfish, always trying to find the angle to get something for herself, and a little prickly towards those who didn't do so on her behalf. Sofia just shrugged off Mia's comment, unwilling to offer to take advantage of Stephanie. After a few months of knowing Mia, we'd all adopted the same response to her particular brand of passive aggressive comments.
"Whoa, you work for w*ish, the lingerie company?" Sandra, Olivia's friend from college, queried. "I just read an article on w*ish in Vogue. The designer is very impressive."
"Steph's great," I replied, "I actually do marketing for w*ish." I grabbed my two gift bags which were overflowing with shimmery tissue paper from where I'd stowed them under the table. "Speaking of w*ish, I had Steph make some one-of-a kind pieces for you two," I explained.
"Oh my, wow!" Daniella said, stunned as she took in her gift. Stephanie'd designed her a merry widow in a soft ivory to match her wedding gown with pearl and crystal details. "Thank you, Cam, this is incredible. You have to thank Stephanie for me!" she said, placing the lingerie delicately back into the bag before leaning across the table to give me a quick hug as Olivia opened the gift I'd gotten her, excited anticipation on her face.
"This is gorgeous!" Olivia exclaimed, pulling everyone's attention as she held up the blush pink silk strapless bustier and matching panties and robe with lace details and flirty ties. "Camilla, this is… thank you. It matches my gown perfectly," she said, a little catch in her throat as she handed the lingerie to Daniella and pulled me in for a hug.
Out of all of us siblings, I had the closest relationship with Olivia because I was the most eager to welcome her into the family when they first became serious. It was probably because I wasn't as surprised with Daniella's choice of a girlfriend over a boyfriend. Everyone else needed a little time to acclimate themselves. It also helped that I went up to Boston a few times a year for my old job, so I got to visit them and really get to know Olivia outside of the chaos of family gatherings and holidays.
"Quo hermosa. Si solo tuviera esta cuando yo era mas joven… (Spanish: How beautiful. If only I had this when I was younger…)" Grandma Rosa said wistfully as she strummed her fingers lightly along the delicate lace and silk fabric, unaware of my sisters and I blushing and my mom's soft hum of agreement.
"So, you said Stephanie made these special for you?" my mom asked, her eyes widening at my nod as she turned to translate it for my grandmother who was also surprised at Stephanie's generosity.
"Hey, you invited her, right? I know she wasn't on the official list, but she's more than welcome and we'd love to finally officially meet her," Celia asked as she handed Daniella and Olivia a couple festively wrapped gift boxes.
"Yeah, but she's busy this weekend. I really wanted her to come to meet Carlos. I could totally see them hitting it off!" I shared my matchmaking plan. I'd thought Stephanie and my brother Carlos would be great together for a while now, but he hadn't been up from Miami in forever so I hadn't gotten the chance to put my plan into motion. It also didn't help that my cousin and Carlos' business partner cachinnated violently to the point of tears when I told him my plan and flat out refused to help.
"Steph's got the twins though. I don't know if she'd give Carlos the time of day because he doesn't come off as… family friendly," Sofia shrugged as she subtly took a sip of the bellini Grandma Rosa snuck her with a sly smirk.
"Really? Maybe then he would move back to New Jersey," mom said hopefully, the wedding bells in her eyes doubling.
"Psh," my older sister, Maricella, snorted. Maricella was a full-time housewife who occasionally worked a temp job when things got tight. She tended to be a little bit of a bossy know-it-all who enjoyed criticizing others while ignoring her own shortcomings. Basically she was the older sister that ratted you out for sneaking out or having a boy in your room. As the baby of the family, I took my duty to rebel rather seriously and did some irreparable damage to my relationship with Maricella that she was too busy to remedy now. "Carlos isn't capable of being in a long-term relationship, much less one that involves children," she added critically, rolling her amber eyes as Mia chortled in agreement.
Thwap. Grandma Rosa's slapped her hand sharply down on the cream tablecloth with an affronted expression on her face that she leveled at Maricella, Mia and then my mom, causing silence to blanket our previously boisterous table. "La gente en cases de cristal no debería arrojar piedras. Ahora volvamos a nuestra celebración. (Spanish: People in glass houses should not throw stones. Now, let us get back to our celebration.)"
A low hum of conversation resumed as Celia shoved another set of gifts at Daniella and Olivia attempting to alleviate the mood once again.
"Creo que alguien con tanta creatividad intrigante sería perfecto para Carlos (Spanish: I think someone with such intriguing creativity would be perfect for Carlos)," Grandma Rosa whispered to me with a conspiratorial wink before cooing over the a sheer, red teddy Olivia had been gifted.
Stephanie Plum POV - 21 MAY 2015 (Present Day)
"I keep on fallin' in and out of love with you," I crooned along to Alicia Key's Fallin', as I danced with Serafina in my arms from the oak changing table to her daisy covered, rolling baby walker. I settled her in and watched her shuffle her feet to roll towards Theo who was inspecting the kitchen area, the only room aside from the nursery that didn't have boxes stacked in it.
I had packed up my bedroom and the living room and was moving onto the kitchen. I taped up the bottom of another cardboard box and placed it on the kitchen counter. I stepped between Theo and Serafina who were shuffling around in their baby walkers, babbling and giggling with each other, completely unconcerned with the fact that in a few short days, we'd be moving from the apartment into our new house. Leaving our first home, I thought with a pang of nostalgia. This apartment had been a safe haven for myself when I needed it most.
More importantly, it was where I learned how to be a mom.
I shook my head to clear away the nostalgia and get back on task. I needed to get everything boxed because the Merry Men would be here in three days to move everything to the house. I grabbed a stack of square, white plates with blue swirls, placed them in bubble wrap sleeves and began stacking them into the box. I managed to dance my way through packing the plates and bowls before getting sidetracked by a tugging on my yoga pants and a whiny "Mama, Mama," from below.
I looked down to see Theo pouting and pinching his fingers carefully to keep a hold on the stretchy, soft material. I knelt down next to him and grabbed his tiny, pudgy hand in my own. "What wrong Theo?" I cooed. His response was to bang his RangeMan sippy cup, courtesy of Ella, against the edge of his baby walker. "I guess it's time for a snack, huh?" I replied, freeing his cup from his surprisingly strong grip and scooping Serafina's up as well. I rinsed and filled them about halfway with water and returned them to my raspberries along with a handful of cheerios each which earned me excited warbles as they began their snack. Theo started munching after first upturning his bowl to pour the cheerios all over the tray part of his walker while Serafina opted to poke at the cheerios one at a time, hooking them carefully around her tiny fingers and then daintily placing them in her mouth. I couldn't wait to introduce her to Bugles.
I constructed another box and started wrapping my glasses and mugs in tissue paper while humming along to the awesomeness that is Adele, smiling when I caught Serafina humming disjointedly along as well. She got it. Well, obviously she got it, she was brilliant, I thought smugly as I reached to the back of the cupboard for the reject mugs that never really made it into circulation. And the second I saw it, I knew why. My stomach knotted tightly with the memories trapped in that stupid, halloween mug. When I first started at RangeMan, I convinced Ella to help me spread some halloween cheer with little gifts for the guys. After that, Ella and I teamed up to use all major holidays as excuses to subvert the strict RangeMan dietary restrictions. The month I moved to Newark, I got mugs made with a picture of a FTA ghost in handcuffs and "Who you gonna call? RangeMan!" on them that Ella filled with baked, chocolatey yumminess.
It was the last time I'd spearheaded an effort to spread any holiday spirit around RangeMan.
Stephanie Plum POV - 16 OCT 2013 (19 Months Ago)
"RangeMan, Stephanie Plum speaking," I answered my desk phone mechanically as I finished going over the proposal contract for our next order of body armor from Stealth, Inc.
"Hey Bombshell," Ramon replied, he was working the lobby desk today. "We just got a delivery for you. It's been scanned and it's on it's way up."
"Thanks Ramon!" I answered, excited that my order of customized mugs intended to spread some halloween happy around RangeMan had finally arrived and thankful to finally have something to look forward to. I'd been having a pretty crappy week so far and it was only Wednesday. I'd been warned about dating someone I worked with, worked for, and despite everything, I'd gone ahead with it. I was convinced that the risks didn't matter because I'd been certain we would last. I had faith in us. Too bad I was alone.
"Anytime Bombshell. So, does this have something to do with this year's Halloween treat?" he queried, clearly trying to finagle some inside information. The guys tended to bet on everything, and the small halloween token Ella and I planned would garner him a pretty pot.
"You'll just have to wait," I sing-songed, rolling side to side in my seat.
"If I were you, I'd meet the box at the elevator. Lester offered to bring it to you and I don't think he's above sneaking a peek!" Ramon warned me before hanging up.
I walked down the hallway, past the glass encased control room filled with monitors and the War Room, the large conference room that was currently being occupied by a team preparing for a government mission. A team that was part RangeMan and part government employees who were holed up in there, pouring over topographical maps or practicing throwing ninja stars or learning code phrases or whatever it is that Rambo types do to prep for saving the world. All I knew was that it didn't involve honing their verbal communications skills or explaining their cryptic, unilateral decisions. I assume such things fell behind the curtain of need to know.
Lester Santos had taken me aside and explained what was going on when I saw the non-RangeMan team members saunter in bright and early Monday morning. Unfortunately, he invoked need to know after sharing that the mission would require Ranger Manoso and Bobby Brown, two of the four members of RangeMan's core team and owners, along with three government employees, none of whom I'd had the pleasure of officially meeting. I did ask Lester if he knew anything about the one female member of the team who seemed to think that a low-cut tank top and booty shorts were business casual. I get that she kicks ass or whatever, but it's only socially acceptable to dress like Lara Croft on halloween. Unless you're actually doing some tomb raiding, I suppose. Lester's response had been to nod at her attire and shrug, as if to say what do you think she's like. Lester may not be the best with sugar coating things, but at least I can trust him to always tell me the truth.
"Well hello Beautiful," Lester greeted me with his signature, panty dropping smirk when the elevator opened. He carried a large box out of the elevator and nudged me with his shoulder as he walked me and the box back to my desk.
"So, did you peek?" I asked, looking up into his green eyes.
"Me? Beautiful, you wound me!" he exclaimed with a wink. I shrugged in response after confirming that the tape on the box seemed intact.
We'd made it halfway to our destination when the door to the War Room opened for what seemed like the first time in three days. A young, latin guy with a surfer's build sauntered out, ruffling his shaggy hair and smiling brightly with a cute dimple when he saw Lester. "Santos," he greeted with a brusque head nod.
"Hey Axel, how've you been?" Lester replied, rolling his eyes and shaking his head when he caught his friend checking me out.
"Excited to get back out there. I hate all this prep crap," he grumbled. "So, who's your friend," he asked pointedly.
"Beautiful, this is Axel Colon, we've taught him everything he knows," Lester introduced, ignoring Axel's amused snort. "Axel, this is Stephanie Plum, Trenton's very own Bombshell Bounty Hunter."
"Seriously Les, that's my introduction? Uncool." I groused, nudging him with my shoulder before shaking Axel's outstretched, calloused hand.
"So, do you know where a guy can get some decent pizza around here?" he asked, attempting to disarm me with his charming smile.
"Seriously, kid? That's what you're going with?" Lester chortled. "Weak."
"What? The hella healthy RangeMan diet is becoming a little much," Axel defended his query.
"Shorty's has decent pizza and cheap beer," Lester offered. "Beautiful?" he added, nodding his head further down the hall towards my desk.
"It was nice m-meeting you," I said, intending to follow Lester back to my desk when two more of the mission team came out of the War Room. One of my bosses entered the hallway and leaned casually against the wall, wearing his customary head-to-toe black RangeMan gear which managed to accentuate his muscles to perfection. Well that and an accessory he didn't normally have: some chic draped all over him. There was something I instantly didn't like about her. Her smile was a bit too wide, her laugh a little too chipper and her hands a lot too all over my boyfriend's… ex-boyfriend's adonis caliber torso. I was snapped from my staring my Lester nudging his knee against my pencil skirt clad thigh. "I suggest you try Pino's though, it you want good pizza," I added to Axel before forcing a smile and rigidly walking down the suddenly claustrophobic hallway.
"I didn't know you hired women at RangeMan," I heard the Tomb Raider wannabe huff in my periphery, appreciative of Lester's bulk shielding me from the flirty couple. Well, I was thankful until Lester halted, twisted around to shove my box into Axel's chest and hooked his arm around my shoulders, pulling me snuggly into his side. I looked up at Lester trying to glean what the hell he was doing as he pivoted me forcibly to face her, my pointy toed stilettos scuffing noisily against the black, glinting tiles.
"Hi, I'm Stephanie," I introduced myself after a few awkward moments of silence, reaching out my hand reluctantly to shake hers.
"Diamond Suarez," she replied, leaning against the muscle bound chest she was just groping, previously known as my muscle bound chest to grope.
Diamond! Diamond? Her name was Diamond, naturally. Unfortunately, I was being bombarded by too many stimuli and was no longer able to keep my inner monologue, well, inner. "I don't care about you're stripper- I mean stage name," I managed to catch myself, although the damage was done judging by the evil eye she was leveling at me. "What's you're real name?" My comment was met with a chortles covered by snorts from Lester and Axel and outrage from Diamond.
"That is my real name, bi- Stephanie" she bit out, managing to catch herself before the expletive fully left her trollop red lips, and fisting her hands where they rested against her sides.
"My mistake. Your parents must be thrilled with how you turned out, given that they set the bar low enough for you to trip over," I sort of apologized with an innocent, doe-eyed look and shrug.
"I think you had it right the first time, Beautiful. I've heard some stories about her preferred method of gathering intel and I think her parent's were pretty much dead on with the name," Lester whispered to me but made sure his voice carried enough to be heard by everyone in our vicinity.
"Actually, I've known a few strippers and escorts, and I'd say they're a step up, if the stories are true," Tank's gruff voice chimed in from behind me. "Hey Little Girl, is that for our halloween surprise?" Tank asked me, nodding his calvous dome at the box Axel was mutely carrying, his mouth slightly agape as he enjoyed the volley of barbs.
"Yup," I replied, popping the p and shooting Tank a grateful smile for shifting the conversation and my focus away from Diamond and her lack of adherence to personal space protocol. "And I promise to make sure none of Ella's treats have coconut in them," I assured him with a wink. After close to a year at RangeMan, I'd finally learned what Tank's candy kryptonite was when he embarked on a ten minute rant about never fully being done chewing coconut after he accidentally ate some.
"Axel, would you help Beautiful get that box back to her desk. She'll fill you in on the merits of Pino's dessert on the way," Lester added with a devious smirk and challengingly raised eyebrow aimed at my ex. "How was it you described that tiramisu?" he asked me with feigned innocence, still not averting his gaze from his colleague and my boss.
I smiled at Axel's surprised expression at having learned that Tank had an opinion about coconut and knowing that something was going on beyond the obvious conversation we were having before turning my face towards Lester who was still looking straight ahead. "I… um," I cleared my throat, trying to ignore the warm blush infusing my features and attempting to pull away from Lester's side. Unfortunately, Lester was intent on reminding my ex-boyfriend of how I described their dessert and driving home the fact that I would be discussing this with the handsome, dimpled Axel Colon. "Orgasmic, I called it orgasmic," I huffed before rolling my eyes, pivoting sharply on the edge of my stiletto, and sauntering back to my desk.
Lester Santos POV - 21 MAY 2015 (Present Day)
"Shit," I grumbled, scrubbing a hand roughly down my face as I realized I had no excuses left to hide behind to keep from making the phone call I'd been dreading having to make all day. I leaned back in my leather office chair and dialed my phone, waiting as the ringing droned on in my ear, not sure if I wanted her to answer and just be done with delivering the news or if it would be better to get her voicemail and put it off some more. I never did get to finish deciding which was the lesser evil because Stephanie's cheery yet slightly out of breath voice filled my ear.
"Hey Lester! How's it going?"
"Eh, same ol'. Why are you out of breath?" I asked.
"Oh, I was just trying to get to my phone. It fell behind a few of the boxes in my bedroom," she replied.
"So, you all ready for the big move?" I asked, "because we're gonna be there bright and early Sunday morning to help you get moved in."
"Getting there. Right now it's in the in-between stage where there are boxes and piles of stuff everywhere so it looks like everything I've purchased over the past like year and a half exploded everywhere," she explained with what I was certain were frantic hand gestures. "On the upside, the raspberries think it's fun and exciting, like their home's been turned into a giant maze."
"Man, that does sound pretty awesome. I would've loved that as a kid!"
"Please. I know you wish you could've spent the day playing with Serafina and Theo in our apartment maze rather than schmoozing clients and doing paperwork!" Stephanie teased. "So, what's going on with you? Are you excited for the wedding?"
"Yeah-wait, you know about Daniella and Olivia's wedding?" I asked, thrown off that she was broaching a topic adjacent to the one I needed to address.
"Seriously, Les? Between your sister, cousin and girlfriend, I'm probably more aware of the wedding itinerary than you are," she chortled. "Oh, and I'm supposed to subtly ask you what color tie you're wearing because apparently you've turned Calista into one of those we-must-match girlfriends," she added dryly.
"Oh, I hadn't really put much thought into it 'cause I'm a guy and well, not to boast, but I look amazing in anything and especially in nothing," I said in a teasingly lascivious tone. "You're the fashionista though, any thoughts?"
"Oh, um… I'd go with that dark charcoal suit you wore to the gala we went to with a light gray shirt and a colored tie. What colors do you have?" she asked after a little initial hesitation, undoubtedly picking up on the fact that I was stalling by asking for fashion advice.
"Hmmm. I have some in black, gray, blue and green," I replied absentmindedly, trying to figure out how to segue our conversation smoothly to the news I needed to impart.
"Green. A light, minty green," she replied smugly. "Trust me, I know the dress Calista'll wear to match that tie and… you're welcome."
"Thanks… I guess." I replied before just attacking the topic head on after a few moments of awkward, stuffy silence. "Listen Stephanie, I uh… have something to tell you."
"Stephanie huh? Must be serious if you're busting out my full name," she replied with a forced, dry scoff.
"Ste-Beautiful, it's not bad news, not really, just something I wanted to give you a heads up about. Okay?" I said cautiously, strumming my fingers along the cool, dark glass surface of my desk.
"Okay Les, hit me with it," Stephanie replied, resignedly.
"He's coming back… for the wedding. He's getting in tomorrow and he'll be here till Sunday." After a few moments, I decided to fill the deafening silence, "I just found out today. Tank and I have and will encourage him to reach out to you, but you don't have to talk to him if you don't want to."
"I-I… damn it," Stephanie paused to clear her throat, "thank you for telling me. I hope I get a chance to finally tell him about… our raspberries, but I don't want either of you to force him to talk to me. It should be his choice to open up his life to me, even if it is j-just to catch up and for nothing m-more," she added slowly, policing her every word.
"Okay Steph. And remember, we're here for you, whatever you need," I barely managed to reply before she claimed Theo was getting fussy and hung up without so much as a good-bye.
This bullshit had gone on for far too long, I thought. I couldn't believe that one of the most honorable and courageous men I'd ever known was too chickenshit to get in touch with the woman I know he still cares for and ask for her forgiveness and friendship once more, if not for another chance. And I really couldn't believe that despite several of us, Stephanie included, encouraging him to talk to her, he steadfastly refused to man up.
I levered my self wearily from my seat and lumbered towards the office adjacent to mine. I knocked sharply once before leaning in, pulling Tank's gaze from the dossier he was reading. "You tell her?" he asked gruffly followed by "beer or whiskey?" when he registered my swift nod.
"Both. And I'm calling his ass to the mats."
Ranger Manoso POV - 21 MAY 2015 (Present Day)
"Are you sure you can't stay any longer? I really wanted to take a little trip into the city to show you my office!" Camilla whined, hoping her disappointed tone would convince me change my travel plans. "We never get to hang out anymore and I've haven't even been able to fill you in on how I got Mod Management started," she huffed petulantly.
I'd decided when I left New Jersey that I was only going to return when I absolutely couldn't get out of it. Unfortunately for me, all of the women in my family had spent the past several weeks convincing me that it would be unacceptable to skip any portion of my sister's wedding, including the rehearsal dinner which I would be arriving just in time for. "I have to leave Sunday, I have work," I replied with what I hoped was finality as I finished going through some expense reports for a recent bust.
"Ugh, fine" she sighed, defeated. "Oh, I called dibs on picking you up at the airport," she announced smugly, adding "I already told Lester," when I attempted to explain that I'd made arrangements.
"See, we do have time to catch up. There's no need for a trip to New York City," I countered.
"I guess. And you'll finally meet my friend and business partner, Tucker! He's my plus one for the wedding," she chattered at an impressively rapid pace, a habit that telegraphed her excitement.
I'd heard her mention Tucker since college, but I'd never had the time or inclination to meet him. Apparently that was in the past because he seemed to be garnering a starring role in my baby sister's life. "Tucker?" I replied with a menacing calm I'd perfected years ago.
"Yeah, you know, my friend Tucker. Anyways, I'm really excited for you to meet and you better not scare him, okay?" she demanded.
"I don't like to make promises I can't keep," I replied, signing off on the report and stacking it with the others at the edge of my black metal, minimalist desk. "So?"
"So what?" she sassed back over the sound of motors revving and wind whipping in the background.
"Camilla," I bit out brusquely.
"No Carlos, there's nothing going on. Yet," she relented huffily. "So, you excited to be back and see everyone again?"
Her question shone a spotlight on the only real concern I had with visiting New Jersey. I'd left Trenton abruptly after my last mission and being the stubborn ass that I am, refused to heed any of my honorary brothers' advice that would've softened the news of my departure. But despite their disappointment, I knew my friends harbored a combination of respect and fear that would restrain them from forcing me to confront anyone I didn't intend to on my trip up north. "I was there seven months ago," I pointed out as I rolled some of the tenseness out of my shoulders and rested my head against my black, leather seat.
"Yeah, well, that was before the wedding craziness took hold. Dad's been getting more and more vocal about his disapproval of Daniella marrying a woman, Mom's freaking out about the seating arrangement because apparently Lester slept with Mr. Hernandez's daughter and can't be anywhere within 50 feet of him, I'm saddled with trying to cajole the caterer into adding a vegan option, and Mia's being a bitch about not being a bridesmaid," she ranted in one overdrawn breath. "Oh and Eva picked out a pink flower girl dress which doesn't really go with the blue and silver theme, but she's five and adorable and her moms are getting married, so who cares, right?" she demanded, her voice acquiring a manic hysteria by the end of her thought.
"Sure," I responded tentatively, resigned to the fact that any answer would be wrong.
"Well, now Mari's daughters, who are in high school incase you forgot because clearly they have, demand to pick their own dress colors and Mari refuses to talk to them so that's a whole thing now. Why can't Mari be a cool mom like Celia?" Camilla groused.
"Sorry. Just remember, the matrimonial circus will be over in a few days," I offered, thankful she couldn't see my subtle smirk at her suffering.
"Yeah. And since I've decided I'm definitely going to elope, we're done planning weddings until Sofia decides to tie the knot."
"I wholly support your plan, but this guy sure as hell better ask me for permission before whisks you away to be married by an Elvis impersonator," I demanded, a little steel coming through in my tenor at the thought of my baby sister getting married. "And you don't even think about Sofia getting married around Lester," I warned, knowing that his brotherly overprotectiveness exceeded even my own.
"Mhmm… I've got to get back to the Bridal Shower festivities. I've been gone too long and despite the fact that they're all pretty heavily buzzed, mom and abuela (Spanish: grandma) included, they'll eventually notice that one of their two designated drivers is missing."
"Have fun, and thanks for the offer of a ride, but I can just have-"
"Nope, not gonna happen. I'll see you tomorrow!" she said with an amused lilt, a cacophony of giggling and shrieking marking her return to the fun I'd be forced to endure soon.
I blew out a slow, deep breath, scratching at the scruff of my overgrown stubble, finally relenting to the inevitable fact that in a few, short hours, I'd be back to breathing the muggy, smog infused air of New Jersey. Back home, the thought came to me unbidden, jarring me with its veracity and leaving me wondering if maybe it was time. Time to confront my past failings and make amends.
Ranger Manoso POV - 31 OCT 2014 (7 Months Ago)
"Thanks," I murmured to the waitress who refilled my mug with green tea, never averting my gaze from the luxury apartment building across the street from the cafe I'd been sitting in for most of the afternoon. Lurking really. Apparently I was that guy, I thought, scoffing at myself.
After finally returning from the seemingly never ending mission from hell, I spent the last seven weeks being debriefed and recuperating from a nasty knife wound and mild dehydration. I'd made some hard choices before I left, to keep my focus sharp and make sure my team and I came home safe. Unfortunately, I was slammed with regret every time we hit a little lull in action while I was in the wind. Apparently, being officially unattached didn't mean I was truly unattached. And it definitely didn't stop the occasional dream of the bliss I'd so callously thrown away.
So here I sat, contemplating my next move. The truly pathetic thing was that if I could just man up, I knew I had a chance, despite everything. I knew her, I knew her heart and I was confident that given some explanation, honesty and time, she would welcome me back into her life. But did I deserve it? Did I deserve her friendship? Her love?
No, the thought reverberated around my mind, like an ominous, encroaching abyss, sentencing me to the gloomy existence I'd forced upon myself. I blinked the thought away and continued my vigil on her apartment. The apartment she moved to after I ended things. The one that was devoid of any memories of me, of us. Her fresh start.
I was staring raptly, waffling my gaze between her living room and dining room windows. I'd stolen a few glimpses of her earlier, walking around with a smile on her face bright enough to lighten even my heart a little. After the next time I see her, I'll man up, cross the street, knock on her door and plead for forgiveness, I promised myself just as she stepped back into my view. She was dressed up as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz in a sky blue dress with white, puffy cap sleeves and her chestnut tresses molded into soft curls and parted into low pigtails and what I imagined were sinful, red heels. She had a thing for heels that I wholly approved of. It had been her way of forcing some color into her RangeMan approved attire.
I let my mind wander for an indulgent moment, wondering how she would've gone about attempting to cajole me into participating in her Halloween mania. Would she have pouted at me or flirted with me to to convince me to dress up and join her. The first year she worked at RangeMan, she'd used flattery to persuade me to accompany her to a haunted house, sizing me up and pinching my bicep before declaring me suitable to protect her from vampires and zombies. After that year, she always planned something for us to do together to celebrate Halloween, as friends. I was snapped from my reminiscing when I recalled last Halloween, the one we should've spent together, as a couple.
I shook off her hurt, betrayed expression that haunted the dark recesses of my mind and focused on the present. I watched her adjust the tiny blue bows in her hair while using the window as a makeshift mirror, her nose crinkled slightly in concentration. She had finished and turned around to walk further into her apartment when she halted abruptly, her hand snapping to cup the back of her neck. She pivoted rapidly, her hair streaming through the air and she walked back to the window, pressing her other hand against the glass as her gaze bounced around, searching. She always knew when I was near. She could sense me. We could sense each other. She'd once described it to me as a tingly feeling that ran up her spine and settled at the base of her neck.
I smiled softly, awed that our bond persevered despite the hurt and distance and bullshit as I took in her hopeful expression. Until it turned angry, her hand turning into a fist as she shook her head as if to shake herself free of the tingle, to shake herself free of me.
Lester and Tank wouldn't give me many details, but they did imply she was doing well. She'd obviously managed to move forward and carve out a new life for herself. And she was happy. From the past several hours of stalking her, it was obvious that she'd found some happiness, and it wasn't right of me to take it away after I'd already taken so much.
I heaved myself out of the rickety, coffee shop seat, my exit punctuated by the kitschy bell hooked to the door. I took one last wistful look up at her apartment, "goodbye Babe," I whispered, breathing the crisp, fall air in deeply and taking pleasure in the ache from my recently healed ribs as just penance. If nothing else, this afternoon illuminated the right path for me. I was going through with the transfer to run RangeMan Miami.
A/N: I know that the timeframe between Stephanie picking the w*ish boutique owners and the new locations actually opening is a bit tight. I ended up changing a few things from my original timeline and for the rest to fit, that bit is just gonna have to be a little rushed.
