“How come he has the same last name?” I ask.
“Oh, rumor has it, the mom gave the kid the same last name because Mr. Falco denied he was the father and didn’t have anything to do with the kid, so she did it to spite him.”
She’s eating up this gossip thing. But all it makes me feel is sick to my stomach. I need to stop, but also, I need to know who I’m up against.
“Most people think he killed his dad because he wanted to take over the business.”
I don’t ask her to elaborate on either the killing or the business. I have a feeling what Donovan is into isn’t legal, and I don’t think I need to know more than that. In fact, I want her to stop talking altogether. I don’t think I can handle much more.
I ask if she has anything in rose pink, and she dashes off. Alone in the fitting room, I breathe a sigh of relief as I begin stripping down.
It hits me that I’ve never been shopping, at least not that I can remember. The aunts would often order things I needed and have them delivered. They had to go into town to pick the packages up since we lived too far out, so they would get things that would last a while. I was never one to complain or really care as long as I was clothed.
And before that, well, I’m sure my mom took me when I was young, but thanks to Sandra wiping my memories…
I sigh and push the thought away. I just need to get through today.
As we bounce from shop to shop, my energy depleting with every threshold we cross, I learn quite a lot about my curse buddy. It’s like people know him by his bodyguard, Andre, and they can’t help themselves from talking about him. I wish it would stop, but I’m also taking every little tidbit in and trying to piece it together to make a whole picture. To make the man.
Donovan is definitely not a good man. Which doesn’t really come as a surprise. After what I’d seen him do yesterday, well, there was no excuse I could come up with where a “good” person would do that. Morally gray, at best, but it seems more like he walks along the line of black if anything.
Did he really kill his father? If he did, was it because he wanted to take over the business or is there more to it? Is he a cold-blooded killer or does he have a reason to hurt the people he’s hurt? Like that guy yesterday, what was that all about? One person did mention how Donovan “takes out the trash” and he “does his best to keep the streets clean.” Not sure what he meant by that, but it leaves me wondering about a lot of things.
I guess I won’t know until I talk to the man himself. I quickly shoo that idea out of my head because he’s not going to tell me anything.
I’m about done. I feel worn out, and though I don’t want to admit it, I noticed the lines coming back and slithering down my arm.
I need to be close to Donovan again, even if it’s the last thing I want right now.
An idea comes to me before I can tell Andre I’m ready to head back.
“Here,” I say, heading for the store Sandra brought me to yesterday. Theonlystore she’d taken me to.
I don’t even look to see if Andre is following with all the things we’ve gotten today. There are so many bags. I tried to say no, but he cut me off with Donovan’s never-ending wad of cash every single time.
“Hello,” I say to the willowy woman who was here yesterday.
“Oh, hi.” She stops short when she sees Andre behind me. I think this is going to work out just the way I hope.
“You were the one who showed me the room scent from the back yesterday?” I ask, staring at her hard, willing her to get what I’m trying to say.
“Right! Yes, the special one we just made.”
“I should have bought it yesterday.” I let out a tiny laugh, as if to say it was stupid for me to walk away without getting it. “Do you still have it?”
“Oh, no, I’m so sorry.” She looks at me, and I don’t miss the knowing twinkle in her eye. We’re speaking the same language, and I couldn’t be more relieved.
I need to talk to Sandra again, and I don’t know if it’s the best thing to let Donovan or any of his minions know what I’m doing. Not until I’m sure of… something. “I sold it this morning.But if you come backtomorrow afternoon, I can have another batch done and ready.”
“Really?! That would be so amazing.” I might be laying it on too thick. Maybe I should tone down the overacting a little.
“Yes! Is there a number I can reach you at to let you know when it’s ready?”
I glance at Andre, who is no help with the‘I don’t give a crap’shrug he gives me.
“I don’t right now. But… I could be here at…” I glance at Andre again. He holds up three fingers before turning his back, pretending like he’s not paying attention. “Three?”
“I will see what I can do,” she says with a smile that’s a little too wide.
