Chapter 54
"What do you think of this one, Dante?" Laura asked, placing a piece of cake in front of him. It was number six in the mass of cakes that surrounded him.
On the table behind Laura were round cakes, square cakes, cakes covered in fondant, some with decorations and others barely started. Every color you could imagine were spread on top of the counter, like a palette rich with vibrant flavors and hues.
"Mom?" Lulu expressed in disbelief, "I know you mean well, but-"
"Lulu, you have to try this," Dante recommended, using his fork and feeding her the piece of cake in front of him.
"What is it?" Lulu asked, as she opened her mouth and Dante placed the fork into her mouth, before digging into the cake and placing it in his mouth.
"Sweet Vanilla Spongecake with apples, ground almonds and applejack liquor," Laura told them, as Dante closed his mouth over the concoction and smiled.
"This is by far the best butter cream frosting that I have had in ages, Laura," Dante gushed, taking another bite, of the cake flavored with caramel.
"It's good, Mom. But, Oh My God, Dante," Lulu exclaimed, as he dug his fork into the slice of cake and she watched him devour another bite, "Why don't I just get you a shovel?"
"Baby, this is amazing. We have got to have this at the reception. I love this caramel."
"Yeah, honey, I can see that, " Lulu laughed, as he finished off the caramel cake and moved on to the Red Velvet cake covered in white fondant with decorations of flowers and leaves.
By the time he was finished, Dante had finished off nearly all six of the slices of cake in front of him, sat back in the chair and rubbed his stomach.
"I don't know if I can decide," he told them, taking a sip of water from the glass that Laura placed on the table, "They're all really good. I think I need to taste some more."
"I cannot believe that you just ate all of that," Lulu said in amazement, shaking her head at the empty plates that surrounded him.
"What do you think of the butter cream with the red velvet? Oh, and baby, while I like that caramel apple one, maybe we should have a devil's cake and maybe the vanilla cake instead with that fondant icing. What do you think?"
"What do I think? Do you have any idea how much sugar you just inhaled?"
"I'm serious, Lulu. It's your decision."
"You're the chef, honey. If that's what you think-"
"I'm an Italian chef, baby. I'm not a pastry chef. I'm asking you, Lulu- what do you want?" Dante questioned, sitting up in his chair and rubbing his stomach.
"Well, I like the apples and caramel, but I think it's a little rich for a wedding cake. I do like the red velvet and the vanilla cake," Lulu answered, as Dante nodded in agreement.
"Mm," Dante replied, taking a bite of the vanilla cake with chocolate fondant, "I agree, baby."
"Red Velvet Cake with Butter cream Frosting and a vanilla cake with Chocolate fondant. I'll make some flower decorations for the fondant and place some fresh strawberries as a garnish. This sounds great. Anything else?" Laura asked Dante, jotting down notes on a piece of paper.
"Do you have some more of that caramel butter cream that we could take with us? I may want to do a little research," Dante asked Lulu's Mom, grinning.
"Dante!" Lulu scolded, punching him playfully in the arm.
"Research?" Laura asked, placing the empty plates in the sink.
"What items taste good with butter cream? That sort of thing. I may get hungry later," he answered, sending Lulu a cocky smile.
"I could make an extra batch," Laura promised Dante, with a genuine smile, as she covered the cakes and began to wipe down the counter, "Give me an hour or so. I will place it in the refrigerator for you and you can help yourself."
"You are the absolute best, " Dante exclaimed, kissing Laura on the forehead.
"You are unbelievable," Lulu replied, with her hands folded across her chest.
"I know," Dante answered with a cocky grin, "and later," he whispered for her ears alone, running his hand up her arm, "I'm prepared to show you just how unbelievable I am."
"With caramel?"
"You don't like caramel?"
"I love caramel, Dante. I just think that if we're planning on dessert you should add some chocolate sauce and strawberries," she replied innocently, turning her back on him and walking away, "Oh, and honey, don't forget the whipped cream," she reminded him, turning to lightly brush his lips with her finger.
"Where are you going?" he asked her, as she walked out of the kitchen.
"You just remember what I said, Chef Falconeri."
"Whipped cream, chocolate sauce and strawberries. Got it," Dante barely whispered, as his eyes swept over her backside and he started to imagine all of the different ways he could use the ingredients later that evening.
His eyes turned dark with passion and he shook his head to clear his thoughts.
"Dante?" Laura said, interrupting him.
"Yeah," he said, turning to his future mother-in-law.
"The cake toppers. I was asking you about them?" she said, while wiping down the table with a wet cloth.
"Cake toppers? I don't follow," Dante asked, confused.
"Do you think that Lulu will want a traditional one? You know, bride and groom standing together, or we could do something different."
"Different how?"
"I don't know. Do you have any ideas?"
"Hey, I know I'm a chef, but when it comes to cakes- especially wedding cakes- I'm at a loss," Dante told her.
"Well, we could look for something that is special to the two of you. What do you think?"
"I think that marrying your daughter and awaiting the arrival of our child is the greatest thing to ever happen to me, Laura. And the rest is-"
"Just the icing on the cake. Ok, I'll figure something out," Laura promised, as Dante turned to exit the kitchen.
"Oh, Dante?"
"Hm," Dante answered, turning toward Laura.
"When you think of my daughter and everything that you've done together. What memory stands out the most?"
"What memory? " Dante responded, smiling, "Stickball. Yeah, definitely stickball."
"Stickball. Ok, thanks, sweetie," Laura told him, patting him on the shoulder, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some work to do," she told him, walking him toward the door, where Lulu was waiting, "Goodnight."
"Night, Mom," Lulu said, kissing her Mom on the cheek.
Dante's arm was draped around Lulu's, as he assisted her down the steps and he suddenly stopped once their feet had hit the ground.
"What?" Lulu asked him, turning into his arms.
"Your Mom just called me, Sweetie," he said, completely stunned.
"You're loving this, aren't you?" Lulu asked, grinning, as Dante looked back at her, perplexed.
"What do you mean?"
"The attention. You love it," Lulu laughed, as her hands played with the buttons of his shirt.
"I love your attention," Dante admitted, moving in closer and kissing her softly on the lips.
"The way your eyes sweep over me," he continued, as his hands stroked her arms.
"The way you touch me."
"Like what?" Lulu asked, gazing into his darkening gaze.
"Like you want to grab hold of me and tackle me," he grinned.
"Hm...No," Lulu smiled, as Dante looked outraged.
"Tell the truth, Lulu," Dante prodded, caressing the side of her face with his hand.
"I have no desire whatsoever, Chef Falconeri, to see you sprawled on that ground," she said pointing to the tiny patch of grass in front of her family's restaurant.
"What about any other place?" Dante whispered close to her ear, his breath causing her pulse to race.
"Oh, that feels nice," Lulu exclaimed, as his mouth closed over her earlobe, "What places did you have in mind?"
"Our sofa, the floor near the coffee table...on the coffee table," he grinned, breaking away from the side of her neck to look deep into her eyes, "the kitchen counter, the shower too. Then, I'll let you take advantage of me in our bed."
"All of those places? And I'm supposed to tackle you?" she laughed, as he smiled back.
"Hey, it's a dirty job, but-"
"And what if I said I want you to-"
"I'd say, name the time and place, baby," Dante said with a cocky grin, as he pulled her closer.
"Shower. Two minutes," Lulu whispered, as Dante looked surprised.
"Then, maybe I'll let you take advantage of me in our bed," Lulu grinned, as she turned and raced toward their apartment.
Dante Falconeri stood frozen for a few seconds, while he contemplated life with Lulu Spencer at his side. His life was never going to be the same, he thought, shaking himself.
"Hey, but what about dessert?" he shouted, racing after her.
Sonny grabbed the bottle of scotch and poured the dark liquid into the glasses, before taking a seat opposite of Luke.
"I'm listening, friend," Luke told Sonny, as he swallowed.
"I don't know what you want me to say," Sonny answered, relieved that the day was nearly over.
"How about the truth? Was that kid telling it? If you had anything-"
"I don't know what that punk is talking about, Luke? That's the truth," Sonny said, slamming his hands on the table and shaking the glasses.
"I don't believe you. How does he know so much, Sonny, huh? That would have been fifteen years ago...you were just getting established in Port Charles. Did you step on someone's toes, stumble over a corpse? What happened, Sonny?"
"He played on Dante's baseball team. That's all I know," Sonny shared, refusing to say more.
"You're holding out on me, pal. What is your connection to that kid's friend and his father? And that son of a bitch, Logan Hayes?" Luke pressed.
"Contrary to every one's opinion of me, I don't just eliminate people for the fun of it," Sonny yelled, running his hand through his hair in frustration, "If I had to remember-"
"Every body. I know, Sonny. The list would be a mile long. I get it. I'm not asking you to recite the damn mobster code of silence here. Those bastards came after my family, Sonny. Mine," Luke replied, slamming his hands on the table, "Now, I want the truth. What's your connection?"
"Anthony Poletti owed money. A lot. He was chest deep in gambling debts to an associate of mine and needed my help to get him out. Our sons played on the same baseball team. Period. When it came time to pay up, he was short on funds, couldn't make the full payment. So, he came to me."
"And you loaned him the money," Luke commented.
"No. I didn't. He owed over a hundred grand, Luke. At that time Adela's was soaking up everything we had like a sponge.
"And your non-legitimate cash was locked up tighter than Fort Knox."
"I couldn't exactly move cash without the Feds knowing about it. They were watching me like vultures," Sonny confessed, "So, I couldn't do anything and my associate sent his goons to recover his money. Things got messy. I felt bad for the kid and tried to help him out. That's the truth, Luke."
"And Logan Hayes?"
"The kid was a nothing more than a courier, sent out on meaningless errands. He was quick on his feet, though. He came up with this idea to scam the insurance company on Poletti's store. Arson. Said that he had this friend of his that was great with matches. I told the little bastard that his plan was idiotic and that the insurance company would see him coming from a mile away. Jesus, Luke, the kid was fresh from the academy. He was quick on his feet, but a little short in the marble department when it came to brains. How was I supposed to use someone like that in the department?"
"But, he went along with it anyway. Burned the place down. He couldn't have done it alone. He would have had to have help," Luke informed Sonny, as he scratched his chin.
"Well, it wasn't from me. I felt bad for what happened with his friend's old man, but I cut the little punk off at the knees," Sonny answered, "He collected his cash from someone, but it wasn't me. Kid sent his friend up the river without a paddle. The idiots didn't even check to see if the building was empty. Then, the police found a body in all of those ashes. Shoddy work all around, but I had nothing to do with it."
"What body?" Luke asked, as Sonny tried to rack his brain.
"Some homeless guy."
"Hm," Luke replied, thinking.
"What?" Sonny asked.
"I remember that day. Photo in the paper. Thought I recognized that guy," Luke added.
"The homeless guy? Who-"
"I'm sure it was nothing," Luke answered, dismissing his suspicions, "So, Logan went on to work for the PCPD and this friend of his, our Matt Hunter, was sent to prison for arson. What about Anthony Poletti's kid. What did Matt Hunter call him?"
"Lil T," Sonny told Luke, trying to remember the kid that seemed eager to break into the mob world, "He never worked for me and it wasn't my cement shoes that put him in that lake."
"It was someone's," Luke shared, trying to remember the article about Poletti's kid being pulled from the lake, a bullet to his chest.
"You think he was a snitch?" Sonny asked Luke.
"I don't know. Could've been? Would explain a lot," Luke responded, rising from his seat.
"It might be worth looking into."
Lulu was adjusting the shower head, a soapy loofah in one hand, when she heard the curtain slide to the side. Her heart skipped a beat, and the heat inside the shower intensified.
"It took you long enough," she told him, turning into his arms and gasping as he pressed her against the wall, "I thought that I was going to have to wash myself."
"Good things come to those who wait," Dante assured her, his body molding to hers, as he took the loofah sponge from her hands, positioned them around his neck and kissed her. Long. Thoroughly.
The taste of him was sweet, like caramel. His scent intoxicating.
His body was slick against hers, the water from the shower pulsing against him and trickling down upon her.
She gripped him tighter. Her fingers lost within his hair, their hold desperate.
He broke free of their kiss, his lips moving to her neck, as one hand dropped to her side and the other held her securely against the wall. Protectively.
She felt the brush of the sponge against her breasts, the porous material causing goosebumps to erupt upon her skin, as Dante soaped her body and her nipples instantly reacted. Blossoms that burst open.
"Mm," Dante moaned, capturing one and pulling it into his mouth, as Lulu arched beneath him.
"You taste like raspberries," Dante smiled, peering up into her amber-colored eyes, dark with emotion.
"It's the body wash. I bought something new," Lulu sighed, as he released his tiny morsel and glanced up at her.
"No. I'm sure that's not it. It's definitely your skin," Dante noted, using his lips to suckle her breast, "Mm, like candy."
Her eyes struggled to stay open and he smiled, moving his attention to her other breast, while one hand continued to hold her against the tiles, as her body jerked beneath the onslaught of his mouth.
He moved further, dropping to his knees, the cascade of water raining around him, as he used the sponge on her swollen abdomen, pressing his mouth against her skin and whispering soft murmurs.
She closed her eyes and waited. Anticipated the feel of him on her. Her lips parting as she imagined the taste, the press of his lips.
The sponge glided across her thighs, his hand parting them gently to gain further access. He teased her inner thighs. First with the soft press of his mouth on her skin, caressing. Then, with the brush of the sponge, its soap creating bubbles upon her skin.
"Dante," Lulu cried out, not sure how much more she could take, as his hands were now braced on each side of her hips, keeping her movements to a minimum.
He trailed the sponge down both of her legs, gently lifting each foot and washing the pads of her feet and in between her toes, before rising to his feet and turning her to face the tiled wall.
Then, she felt his hands, the trickle of the water, as he squeezed the sponge and washed her back, slowly moving downward.
One hand moved around her to play with her breast, while the other dropped to her backside, gripping the sponge, as it teased the exposed flesh.
"Part your legs," Dante whispered against her ear, as he pressed against her, the sponge creating delicious sensations to erupt throughout her body as she complied.
He moved it in and out between her legs, listening to her increasing sighs and her short, inhaled breaths, before dropping the sponge to the floor and replacing its teasing touch with his hand.
Her feet nearly buckled beneath her, as his finger parted her folds and his thumb pressed deeply. He pulled her against him, one hand clutching her abdomen, while the other continued to torment her.
She braced the palms of her hands against the tiles, as she pushed against him. His fingers felt incredible, but they weren't providing the right friction. They weren't large enough.
She needed more.
She cried out in despair, as he released her, turned her into his arms and moved them beneath the water's spray, rinsing the suds from her body and his, while he held her in his arms, his hands massaging her buttocks and his lips nuzzling the softness of the skin upon her neck.
Dante felt her swollen abdomen pressed against him, his body aching to get closer.
Lulu wanted to be in control. Wanted desperately to feel him against her. Inside her. Every part of him surrounding her. She moved her leg higher, and felt his hardened shaft slip between her legs, not inside, but closer, pressing against her lips.
Dante groaned, pulling her tighter against him, as he reached over and turned off the shower. Slowly he backed toward the curtain, careful not to make any quick movements, as Lulu attempted to climb him, needing desperately to be even closer.
"Lulu," Dante said, out of breath, "I need a second."
"I can't wait," Lulu told him, as he reached for a towel and attempted to dry the both of them, while Lulu clung to him, refusing to let go and running her hands up and down his back.
Dante walked backwards with her, using his memory of the room to guide them toward the bed. The backs of his knees hit the bed at the same moment that Lulu pushed him backward, crawling on top of him and showering him with kisses.
He pulled her further on the bed, returning her kiss, as he gently nudged her to her side, her back toward him. He placed soft kisses upon her, his hand tracing the contour of her spine, until it reached the small indent above her bottom. His hand teased her skin, parting the folds to dip inside, groaning as he felt the wetness against his skin. He pulled her closer, one hand pressed against her roundness, as she lifted her thigh and he pushed his length inside.
Lulu came instantly, her body shuddering around him, as he slowly moved behind her, increasing his pace with each thrust of his hips. He moved one hand to cradle her breasts, caressing them, as his other hand rested at the juncture of their bodies, his thumb pressing against her. She cried out and he reveled, loving the fact that he could arouse her so quickly. He moved faster, resting his chin upon her shoulder, and groaning as he felt himself nearing his own climax, but waiting for her to near her own once again.
Lulu was whispering incoherently, the sound of her breathing, driving Dante onward, as the force of his thrusts threatened to send them off the edge of the bed and onto the floor.
She cried out, the rush of sensation flooding her, as she closed her eyes and let her second orgasm take control.
Dante gripped her tightly, his arm holding her securely, as with one final push, he erupted inside her, the elation causing him to nip at her shoulder and shudder behind her.
Minutes later, he turned her in his arms, resting her head upon his chest, as he placed a kiss on the top of her head and waited for their breathing to return to normal. Lulu relaxed and fell asleep in his arms as Dante held her gently.
He had never been shy when it came to sex, but from the moment that Lulu had ensnared him, everything was different. He was like a randy teenager, with a hunger that was insatiable. He'd never known anything like it, or anything so powerful. It went deep down inside him, clutching at his gut and causing it to tighten, before tangling with his heart and squeezing. Love. It was indescribable. This feeling that he got when he was around her, intoxicated by her. It tormented him. She tormented him. The smell of her. The very taste of her. He was completely lost, but found at the same time. He couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life wrapped in her arms, hearing his name on her lips and knowing that with every whisper, every breath, she was connected to him, as deeply as he was to her. Wife. It did have a nice ring to it, Dante thought, as his eyes drifted closed and he fell asleep beneath her.
Dante awoke to the frustrated sigh of Lulu, as she attempted to paint her toenails, her efforts in vain as she couldn't quite reach her toes.
"Dammit," she cried out, tightening the lid on the nail polish and flinging it upon the bed.
"Hey, watch it, babe," Dante grinned, sitting up and bracing his back against the bed frame.
Lulu was dressed in one of his tee shirts, her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, her fingernails painted with a sheer coat of pink.
"I give up. I can't do this," Lulu wept softly, turning to Dante and revealing her stress, "I can't even reach my toes."
"You're crying because you can't paint your toes?" Dante answered in disbelief, as a pillow came sailing toward him.
"This isn't funny, Dante. It's horrible," Lulu cried, dropping her head against his chest and holding him tightly.
"I'm not an artist, but how hard could it be to-"
"You'll paint my toes," Lulu shouted, gleefully, reaching for the polish and bending her knee, with her toes pointing at Dante's face.
Dante reached for her foot and held it gently, while twisting the cap off of the nailpolish and pulling it off.
"No, wait," Lulu yelled, in exasperation, as Dante attempted to paint the first nail.
"If you don't brush the excess paint off, it will glob," she scolded, as Dante looked at her and rolled his eyes.
"Maybe this is a bad idea," Lulu informed him, as she tried to retract her foot, but he continued to hold it securely in his grip.
"You want your toenails painted. I'll paint them," Dante ordered, as Lulu looked on in frustration.
"Fine. But, if it looks messy, you're starting over."
"Good. Now, trust me, baby. Painting toenails is like painting the side of a house. It's a piece of cake," Dante grinned.
Forty-five minutes later, Dante wiped the sweat from his brow and painted for what he hoped was the third and last attempt on her toenails, placing the cap on the polish and tightening it.
"Well?" he asked Lulu, who scanned every toe, looking for any sign of a botched job. Two times she made him bring out the nail polish remover and start over. Two times he had to repaint them, because she didn't like the crease in the paint, or he accidentally brushed the skin of her toe.
"It'll do," she commented, as Dante glanced at her in frustration.
"It'll do. Forty-five minutes of freaking artistry and your response is, it'll do," he gasped, nearly choking on his outrage, "It's freaking Picasso work. No, that Campbell's soup guy. What's his name?"
"Warhol?" Lulu replied, raising her eyebrow. Apparently, the acetone from the polish was getting to him.
"Yeah, him," Dante fired back, staunch in his defense of himself, "That's how good it is."
"O.K. Honey, you're brilliant. Amazing," Lulu grinned, as Dante looked back at her in annoyance.
"Well, now you're just being plain mean," Dante informed her, nearly sulking, as he rose from the bed and walked toward the dresser.
"Where are you going?" she asked him, blowing on her toenails, as Dante glanced down at her.
"I figured that I'd go down to that new nail salon on King Street and apply for a job," Dante answered, sarcastically, as Lulu laughed, "Good luck with that, honey. Oh, while you're there will you see if they got in the sea green polish. I've been waiting for weeks."
"Yeah, sure," Dante replied, shaking his head, "I'll pick that up right after I get my manicure and pedicure," he told her, turning his back to her and walking toward the bathroom.
"I've seen your toenails, Dante," Lulu told him, as he shut the door, "SCARY," she shouted, as she brushed the side of her toenail and smudged the paint.
"Dammit."
Twenty minutes later, Dante emerged from the bathroom, freshly shaved, his hair a mass of wet, dark locks, wearing a towel that hung low on his hips.
"What are your plans for the day?" Lulu asked him, sitting on the bed, a pair of brown leather boots beside her.
"Lucky and I are going to meet up at the PCPD and then I have a few errands to run. What about you?" Dante asked, dropping the towel at his feet and presenting his backside to her.
"I...uh..well," Lulu stammered, struck speechless by the Grecian God that stood before her, "No, don't turn around," she shouted, as he closed the dresser drawer and pulled on a pair of boxer briefs.
"Why?" Dante questioned, smiling, as he walked toward her, a pair of jeans in his hand.
"Because...I wasn't finished admiring the view," Lulu gloated, grinning back.
"You liked what you saw, huh," Dante said with a cocky grin, "I can arrange another view," he told her, standing and reaching for the elastic band of his briefs.
"No," Lulu laughed, jumping to her feet, "We'll never get out of here," she informed him, kissing him soundly, before smacking him on his backside.
"You need to meet up with Lucky. He hates it when you keep him waiting," Lulu reminded Dante, "And I have a few errands of my own. Plus, I'm meeting Mom for lunch. Want to come?"
"Lunch? Not sure what time I'll be done," Dante answered, trying to think how long his errand would take him, "How about I call you?"
"Hm. An errand that could take you well past lunch," Lulu grinned, as Dante pulled on his jeans and reached for a dark blue tee shirt, "Exactly what are you up to, honey?"
"Hey," Dante laughed, as she ran her hands over his lightly furred chest,"Don't you worry your pretty little head over it."
"Will I like it?" she prodded, her hands gripping his arms.
"Who said it was for you?" Dante laughed, trying to dislodge her, as he pulled his tee shirt over his head and Lulu smoothed it over his chest.
"You are going on an errand with my brother, Dante. What else could you possibly talk about other than me," she bragged, kissing him on the lips, "Come on, honey. You can tell me."
"It won't work, Lulu," Dante answered, sucking in his breath, as she trailed her fingers under the rim of his shirt and teased his belly button.
"I don't know what you are talking about, Dante," Lulu told him, innocently, as both of her hands worked themselves beneath his shirt and dipped below his jeans.
"Whoa. Nope. Not doing this, baby," Dante replied, jumping backward and forcing her hands from his jeans.
"You are unbelievable," Lulu told him, sulking, as Dante pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
"Yeah, but you love that about me, baby."
Detective Lucky Spencer walked into the interrogation room and sat down in a chair facing Matt Hunter. In his hands, he held a large envelope, one that Matt Hunter couldn't seem to take his eyes off of, as his focus remained on the paper.
"Is that it?" Matt Hunter asked Detective Spencer, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
"You tell me what you know about Sonny Corrinthos, " Detective Spencer ordered, "And I'll divulge the contents of this envelope."
"That wasn't the deal. You keep me out of prison and I give you Sonny. That's the deal," Matt Hunter informed Lucky Spencer, adamantly.
"I'm giving the orders here, Mr. Hunter," Lucky told him, his voice authoritative, "Not you. Take the deal, or leave it."
"That's not fair," Matt Hunter answered, as Lucky tossed the envelope onto the table just out of Matt Hunter's reach.
"Fair, or not. That's what's on the table. What's in that envelope, " Lucky said, pointing at it, " For information on Sonny."
Matt Hunter contemplated the contents of that envelope, what it would mean to him and if it was the answer to his freedom. He shifted in his chair, rubbed his hands together and rolled his shoulders to release the knots developing from all of his tension.
"Fine. Sonny for what's in that envelope," Matt Hunter decided, risking his very life on the contents of that one piece of paper inside that envelope.
"Good. Now, you tell me, from the beginning, Mr. Hunter, when and how you met Sonny Corrinthos."
"I was approached about a job- arson. Nearly twenty years ago, I guess."
"Sonny called you?" Lucky asked, jotting down a few notes.
"No, Logan Hayes. Said he and Sonny needed help with an insurance scam."
"Insurance? Who's?"
"Anthony Poletti's place. The kid inherited it. The place was a bust. Logan's Dad said the bank was trying to take it away."
"You were hired to burn it down," Lucky commented, watching Matt Hunter's reaction.
"I was hired to start the fire, yes. But, what happened next, wasn't my fault."
"The homicide. I read your file," Lucky replied, as Matt Hunter became riled.
"Well, then you know that he was already dead when I set that place ablaze. I didn't murder no one."
"I didn't say you did," Lucky told him, turning the pen between his fingertips, "Who was he?"
"How the hell should I know? The guy kicked the bucket before I got there, but those damn pigs locked me up anyway. But, I know what really happened. I know who was to blame."
"Sonny Corrinthos," Lucky answered, as Matt Hunter slammed his handcuffed hands on the table.
"Damn straight. His blood was all over that place," Matt Hunter shared, implying Sonny's guilt, "Now, what are you going to do about it?"
Detective Spencer reached for the envelope on the table and Matt Hunter had his first glimpse of what freedom tasted like, but then Lucky Spencer removed the photograph from within and it was abruptly squashed.
"Do you know who this is?" Lucky asked Matt Hunter, as he glanced down at an image of a body.
"Never seen that man before in my life," Matt Hunter confessed, staring at the deceased insurance agent.
"That's funny, because we have camera footage of you and, " Lucky said, glancing at his notes, "Mr. Pinkelton having an altercation on the pier."
"So," Matt Hunter replied, shrugging his shoulders, "I must see a dozen people on that pier arguing."
"Maybe, Mr. Hunter," Lucky smiled like the cat that ate the canary, "But, my guess is that not one of them gutted someone with a knife and left them to die."
"Shit," Matt Hunter replied, looking down at the image.
"You see, Mr. Hunter," Detective Spencer told him, "Not only do I have you on stalking my sister and kidnapping, but now I have you on murder. That's minimum life in prison. No parole, Mr. Hunter."
"I don't care what that camera saw. It's not like that. He pulled the knife on me," Matt Hunter lied, as Lucky Spencer raised his eyebrow in disbelief, "Besides, we had a deal. Sonny for what's in that envelope," Matt Hunter realized, his anger rising within him, "You tricked me. You didn't even talk to the D.A., did you? What kind of justice system is this?"
"Two birds with one stone, Mr. Hunter. I get the pleasure of seeing your pathetic self rot in prison for the rest of your miserable life," Lucky informed him, "And I get to use the information that you provided to help send the man I despise right along with you. Now, that's what I call justice, Mr. Hunter."
"Oh, Lulu, you look so beautiful," Laura cried, wiping the moisture from her eyes.
"Mom, stop. I look like an elephant," Lulu replied, as the seamstress worked on the adjustments to her hips and waist.
"Miss Spencer, you have to stop squirming," she scolded, "you'll rip out the seams that I've already sewn TWO times," she said, enunciating.
"TWO times, I've felt the needle prick into my side," Lulu informed the seamstress hotly, twisting and turning, as the discomfort increased.
"Mrs. Spencer, I cannot work like this," the seamstress told Lulu's mother, tossing her sewing kit onto the floor, "If she doesn't control her emotions, I cannot finish the dress."
"I'm pregnant, you idiot!" Lulu yelled, bursting into tears, as the seamstress left the room. Lulu turned toward her mother, "It looks horrible, doesn't it?"
"Oh, honey, come here," Laura told Lulu, folding her daughter into her arms and rubbing her back, "The dress is beautiful. YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL," she enunciated, stepping back to look at her daughter.
Lulu's eyes were red from tears and she wiped them from her face, her lips trembling, as she looked down at the dress.
"You really think so," she asked, as the seamstress walked back in the room and swatted Lulu's hands from the fabric.
"You'll smudge the satin. A tear I can fix, but mascara, no."
"Are we almost finished here?" Laura asked the seamstress, as Lulu looked exhausted.
"For now. IF she doesn't eat anything else, I can finish the alterations and have it ready in time for the wedding."
"That's two days from now," Lulu reminded her, as she suffered the less than gentle ministrations of the seamstress, as she divested her of the confines of her dress.
"I'm well aware of that, Miss Spencer," the seamstress answered, placing the dress gently inside a garment bag, "Nothing but salads."
"Mom, you need to stop me," Lulu told her, blood pressure rising.
"Stop you? From what?"
"I'm going to kill her. If you don't get me out of her sight, I'm going to have to commit murder. Right here and now," Lulu confessed.
"Honey, you're being melodramatic. Come on, let's go for a walk, get some fresh air. We could stop by Kelly's, how about a hot tea to calm your nerves."
"Fine. Kelly's it is, but make it a hot chocolate and don't hold the whipped cream," Lulu demanded, as her mother smiled behind her, the tears falling down her face.
"What?" Lulu asked, turning to see her mother's tears. Her emotions were like a yo-yo, up and down and Lulu didn't know how much more she could take.
"My baby's getting married," Laura wept, as Lulu rolled her eyes and smiled.
"She's also knocked up. So, unless you want me to give birth at the wedding, Mom, I suggest we get a move on it. I don't know about you, but I'm not about to let this grandchild of yours wait another second for Mike's hot chocolate," Lulu answered, rubbing her stomach.
Fifteen minutes later, they were seated at Mike's, a hot chocolate in front of Lulu, a cup of steaming hot tea in front of Laura and a plate of Mike's famous cheese fries in the middle.
"You are the best, Mike," Lulu told him, reaching for a fry smothered in cheese.
"It's Grandpa Mike," he told her, grinning, as he looked outside and scanned the front of the diner, "But, be quick. If Dante catches me feeding you those fries, I'll never hear the end of it. Let me know if you ladies need anything else," he told Laura, as a customer entered the diner and he reached for a pot of coffee and approached them.
"So, we have the dress," Laura said, marking a notebook in front of her, "the cake and flowers. Your father and I are handling the reception. What about the guests? Still a small wedding?"
"Fifty," Lulu uttered between a mouthful of cheese fries.
"We really should consider having this at the brownstone, Lulu. I mean the size is perfect," Laura suggested, as Lulu shook her head.
"Dante's Italian, remember?" Lulu said, as she sipped her hot chocolate, "We're having the service at St. Michael's and the reception in the banquet room behind Adela's. It's already set, Mom. Olivia is taking care of that part."
"I know, honey, but you're father and I are perfectly capable of helping and-"
"You are, Mom. The cake, this dress, the flowers and food. That's plenty, Mom."
"I just feel like I should be doing more. That's all. You're my daughter, Lulu," Laura said, gushing, as she stroked the side of Lulu's face, "I want to spoil you."
"Spoil your grandchild instead, all right, Mom. Right now, I just want to get through this wedding."
"Fine. Speaking of the wedding, did Dante get his tuxedos?"
"I guess. Maybe that's where he and Lucky went this morning."
"You guess. Lulu, your wedding is in two days. How do you not know if Dante has ordered his tux?"
"The only time we have discussed clothing in the last few days, Mom, is when we were trying to get each other out of it."
"I miss these talks, Lulu. Really," Laura smiled, shaking her head.
"I'm sure that they are getting fitted as we speak, Mom. Now, can we talk about something OTHER than the wedding. I need a break," Lulu begged, reaching for another fry.
"All right. How about names?"
"Hm. What names?" Lulu asked her mother, as she sipped the hot chocolate.
"Baby names," Laura reminded Lulu, as she nearly spit out the hot liquid.
Lucky Spencer was closing the door to the PCPD's interrogation room, as Dante approached him, "Is everything all right?"
"Yeah, just fine," Lucky answered, a guilty expression on his face, as he tossed an envelope onto his desk.
"Anything I can help you with?" Dante asked his soon-to-be brother-in-law.
"Nope. I got it under control. Everything will work out as it should, Lucky answered cryptically, as Dante listened, "Now, are you sure that you want to do this?"
"Positive," Dante grinned.
"It's a big step. Once you sign on the dotted line, there's no turning back, Falconeri."
"I know. I'm sure."
"You don't even have a house yet, Dante. Where are you going to put it? It's not like you can hide it in the apartment."
"I've already thought about that. Ma's going to keep it for me. Until the wedding," Dante informed Lucky, who just shook his head in amazement.
"All right, I just hope this doesn't backfire on you, pal. It's one interruption that I'm not sure you want at your wedding."
"Hey, it's my wedding. It will be great. You'll see. Lulu's going to love it."
"I hope you're right, Dante, " Lucky said, peering down at his watch, "Well, if we're going to do this, we need to hurry. I promised that I would touch base with the Commissioner about this case I'm working on and you and I still need to get fitted for those tuxes," Lucky reminded Dante, who simply cringed.
"Why can't I just wear a suit? Why does it have to be a tux?" Dante replied, squirming at the thought of the contraption he was about to be sewn into.
"Because contrary to your opinion, Dante, it's not your wedding. It's hers," Lucky reminded, "and she is the one calling the shots. Now, are you ready?"
"As I'll ever be," Dante answered, suddenly nervous, "Maybe we should stop at Jake's afterward. Have a beer?"
"Nervous?"
"Me? Nah, I just think we should talk a little more about marriage."
"Marriage? O.K," Lucky answered, as his cell phone rang and he answered.
"Detective Spencer? Yeah...uh, sure. We can find something to pass the time until then. No, no worries. Thanks for calling."
"What?" Dante asked, as Lucky turned to him.
"Change in plans. She needs an hour or two. Looks like we can move this to Jake's," Lucky suggested, as he and Dante turned around and headed in the opposite direction.
"You want a beer?" Lucky asked Dante, as they walked into the bar and caught a glimpse of the man already seated.
"Lucky," he acknowledged, taking a swallow from the beer in front of him.
"Jason," Lucky answered.
"Did you want to go somewhere else?" Dante asked, feeling the tension in the room.
"Nope," Lucky replied, walking toward the bar and taking a seat, "If he can handle it, I sure as hell can."
"Suit yourself," Jason commented, as Coleman placed a beer in front of Dante and a tonic and water in front of Lucky.
"I always do," Lucky answered, Jason.
"So, what did you want to know about marriage?" Lucky asked, Dante, as Jason nearly spit the beer from his mouth.
"You're giving him advice about marriage?" Jason laughed, as Coleman approached.
"You need advice, bro? I'm the King of Advice when it comes to the love department," Coleman gloated, reaching for a beer from behind him and taking a swallow, "Talk to me, man."
"He wants marriage advice, Coleman," Lucky shared, as Dante shook his head and Coleman retracted.
"Marriage? Hell, sorry bro, can't help you out there. Never been and never will. Not this guy, " Coleman said, pointing to his chest.
"I didn't say I wanted advice about marriage," Dante told them, wishing he had never brought the subject up, "I said that I wanted to discuss marriage."
"You got cold feet?" Coleman asked, reaching beneath the bar and placing another Bismark beside Dante's full one, "Drink up. You'll need that second one."
"I don't have cold feet," Dante answered, frustrated.
"Then, why are you asking, Lulu's brother of all people, about marriage? Shouldn't you be talking to Lulu?" Jason asked, leaning over, as Lucky looked toward him.
"Me of all people? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"You're nearly divorced, Lucky," Jason noted, turning toward Dante, "Not exactly the person you should be referring to for relationship advice."
"You're sleeping with my soon-to-be ex-wife," Lucky added, "Not exactly the person Dante should be talking to either."
"Hey, guys, not to get involved in this little therapy session that you two seem to be starting here," Dante laughed, uncomfortably, "but, I don't have any relationship problem and marriage to Lulu is going to be amazing. So, thanks, but no thanks."
"Amazing?" Jason replied, stunned.
"No relationship troubles? You're in deeper than I thought," Lucky told Dante, as Coleman placed another beer in front of Jason.
"What?" Dante asked, staring at all three of them, "What the hell is wrong with believing marriage to Lulu is going to be fantastic?"
"Denial," Coleman, Jason and Lucky said simultaneously.
"I'm in denial?" Dante repeated, looking dumbfounded.
"See, he admitted it," Jason said, turning to Lucky.
"No, not true," Dante told them, adamantly, "I love Lulu. We're having a baby. What's wrong about being happy I'm marrying her?"
"I didn't say that you shouldn't be happy, Dante," Lucky said, pulling his stool closer, "I'm just saying that you should enter this next stage of your life with both eyes open. That's all."
"Lulu isn't Sam," Dante said to Lucky, "and I'm not Lucky," he told Jason, "So, leave me out of whatever you two have going on here," Dante said, slapping a few bills on the counter and standing.
"Dante, I wasn't trying to say you shouldn't marry my sister," Lucky shouted, as Dante walked toward the exit, "Wait up, where are you going?" Lucky asked, dropping a five on the counter and following Dante.
"You have a way of clearing a room, Jason," Coleman noted, as Jason reached for Dante's full beer and placed it in front of him.
"To marriage," Jason toasted Coleman, as he grinned back.
"The sucker has no idea what he's in for," Coleman laughed.
"Nope," Jason grinned, taking another swallow of the cold beer.
"That's bitch'n," Coleman smiled.
"Hey, hold up, " Lucky yelled, as he finally caught up with Dante's brisk pace.
"I don't want to hear it, Lucky," Dante told Lucky, turning to reveal his irritation, "You know what Lulu and I have been through. A little support would be great, pal," Dante hinted, turning his back.
"O.K. So, you're getting cold feet. It happens to the best of us," Lucky admitted.
"I told you, it's not cold feet. I want to marry, Lulu. I love her," Dante confessed, stopping on the street and standing next to the stoop of a building.
"So, what's the problem?"
"I can't shake this feeling that something is going to happen," Dante shared, nervously.
"Something is going to happen, that's the whole point of walking down the aisle, the rings," Lucky said, confused, "to get married."
"Something bad," Dante expressed in frustration.
"Look, I get where you're coming from, Dante. You and my sister's relationship hasn't exactly been a bed of roses, but all that's behind you now. You have to let this thing with Logan go. Hell, even this Matt guy is going to be out of the picture soon. It will work out fine, you'll see."
"Is he going back to prison?" Dante asked Lucky, curious.
"The evidence is there. He'll be spending the rest of his life behind bars, so no worries there, pal," Lucky told Dante.
"Yeah, one less worry. But, I still get this feeling. My instincts-"
"Stop worrying. I am not going to let anything stop this wedding from happening. Do you hear me, Dante? You're marrying my sister, even if I have to tie you to the altar, got it? Now, worry about something more important."
"Like what?"
"How you're going to explain our surprise guest at the wedding," Lucky grinned, pulling the lapels of his jacket together and walking toward their destination.
They stood outside the door, Dante nervously looking through the glass and down the corridor within, "Maybe I shouldn't do this? Do you think it's too soon?"
"No, you had a choice a few hours ago, Dante. Now you're going through with it, pal. So, open the door and start deciding."
"Mr. Falconeri, so sorry to keep you. We had an emergency, " the woman told him, directing him to the housed guests on both sides of the corridor, "They are a little anxious today, but who wouldn't be, right?"
"There are so many of them," Dante noted, walking down the aisle and peering left to right, eager little faces looking back, tongues hanging out and tails wagging.
"Why don't I let you get acquainted with them first? Introduce yourself," she grinned, "Some people say that an owner chooses his pet, but I like to think that the pet chooses his owner. Go ahead," she prodded, as Dante slowly moved down the corridor, as all shapes and sizes of dogs greeted him.
"Were you able to get-" Lucky asked her, as she nodded and walked toward the back.
Dante stopped in front of one cage, a huge mastiff of a dog lunged at the cage, his tail pumping a mile a minute and saliva dripping from his mouth, "Brutus," Dante laughed, rubbing the dog's head, "Sorry, pal, I think that you're a little bigger than what I had in mind for Lulu."
He moved down a few more and kneeled before a small dog that was so nervous it was shaking uncontrollably. It didn't have any fur and was the most hyper dog Dante had ever seen, jumping and chasing it's tail incessantly.
"Cute," Dante grinned, watching it attack it's tail once again, "But, most likely to destroy everything in sight."
Dante stood, ran his hands through his hair and prepared to walk down the other side of the corridor, when the woman returned, a small sleeping bundle cradled in her hands.
"We just got this little girl in this morning," she whispered, handing the bundle of fur to Dante.
The puppy had light brown fur that looked as if someone had taken a paintbrush to it, marking it with patches of red. It squirmed in Dante's arms, crawling deeper, until it found a comfortable position. Dante stroked the top of her head and she turned, eyes closed and licked the palm of his hand.
"She's perfect. What kind is she?" Dante asked, rocking the small puppy in his arms.
"Good question. One we're still trying to figure out. She definitely has some spaniel in her, but as for the rest-"
"I'll take her," Dante said, nuzzling the dog's floppy ears and smiling, as it whined, refusing to awaken from sleep, "How old is she?"
"Ten weeks. Now, she has her first shots, but you'll need to take her to your local vet in a few months. Is she a gift?"
"My fiancee's. It's her wedding gift," Dante grinned, stroking the dog's fur.
"She's a lucky girl," the woman said, peering at the dog.
"Yeah, she is, "Dante thought, thinking of Lulu.
"Well, you'll need a bed, feeding canisters, a few toys...Have you purchased anything yet?"
"We're all set," Lucky answered, as Dante turned to him in confusion, "We are?"
"I had Maxie run an errand for me this morning," Lucky admitted, as Dante groaned, causing the puppy to wake up.
"Tell me you didn't? Not Maxie," Dante answered, sullenly, as the puppy stretched, yawning, before climbing up his chest and licking his chin.
"This poor thing is going to be sleeping in a pink bed with blue pillows and wearing some diamond collar. Tell me she didn't buy the bowls, too," Dante asked Lucky, who grinned back, "Monogrammed."
"What? But, Lulu hasn't even named her yet," Dante exclaimed, clutching the little puppy protectively against his chest.
"Look, we'll figure out her name later. We need to get fitted for those tuxes, Dante."
"Well, let me get your paperwork and you two can be on your way," she told them, smiling, as she rubbed the puppy's head, "I'm sure whatever name your fiancee comes up with will suit her perfectly."
Thirty minutes later, Dante tried to stand still, while the tailor poked him in the side and he issued yet another groan, looking down at the floor, "Ouch, watch it," he said, turning toward the tailor.
"I'm sorry, sir. I'm doing the best that I can under the circumstances, but-"
"It's just a dog," Dante exclaimed, as the puppy head-butted his leg for the tenth time, causing the tailor to lose his concentration yet again.
"No," Dante gently voiced, reaching down to pet the puppy, as it jumped on his pants and wagged its tail.
"Really, sir. Don't you have someone who could-"
"No, I don't," Dante replied, "and stop looking at her with disdain. You're scaring her, " Dante said, accusingly, as the puppy whined, squatted and peed next to the tailor, leaving a puddle beneath her.
"That's it," the tailor said, picking the puppy up by the scruff of its neck and handing it to his assistant, "Find something for it to chew. Preferably nothing that resembles anything on a runway."
"I sincerely hope you mind your future children better than your dog," the tailor vented, shaking his head, as he continued to pin Dante's pants and tux.
"You just...sew," Dante replied, impatiently, as the man pricked him once again with the needle.
"You still want to send that little bundle of joy down the aisle in a basket with Spencer," Lucky grinned, as Dante sent him a disagreeing look.
"It will be fine. Nothing is going wrong at our wedding."
