“But it’s also an energy thing. The winning cards choose you sometimes. She’s just a lucky kid. So is Lucas.”
Gabby added more wine to her glass.
“Pour me one, Gabs.”
“What about your blood pressure medication?” Gabby asked. “Isn’t that supposed to be bad?”
“Gabby.” Her granny sat up straight and looked over her gold-rimmed glasses. “I am an eighty-year-old woman, not a child, and I can manage my own risks. You can’t mother me. It’ll drive me insane.”
“But—” Someone had to worry about Granny’s blood pressure.
They were interrupted by a knock, followed by the noise of the door opening and footsteps through the living room. Instead of Justin with a martini shaker and a bag of limes, it was the only drop-by that shouldn’t surprise Gabby. Phil meandered in with a CVS bag and a lukewarm smile.
“Phil.” His name came out like an accusation. “You can’t just wander in unannounced. You don’t live here anymore.” He was the one who left.
“You need me, Gabby,” he announced as if saying it out loud made it true. “I brought some necessary items.” Like he was Santa Claus, he reached into the bag and held a spray bottle up high.
Gabby squinted at the orange and black bottle. Why was he bringing cleaning spray over at ten at night?
“It’s roach spray. I can’t have my family living with cockroaches.”
“Oh…” Her lie about needing his help because of an infestation of “roaches.” She sighed. Roach spray probably wasn’t going to work on Smirnov or his goons. If only.
A little too loud, Granny said, “You didn’t mention any cockroaches.”
Gabby sighed. “It’s okay. I haven’t seen any roaches today.” That was true.
Granny scanned the countertops. “Well, that doesn’t mean they’re not here.”
Also true. Smirnov could be anywhere. One of his goons had been taking pictures only two nights ago.
Phil set the can on the counter looking pleased with himself. “Well, at least you have something to defend yourself with now.”
And a dart gun. That would only work on the larger-sized roaches, though.
“Thanks, Phil.” She cut herself off before saying anything else nice. Phil reeked of regret and second-guessing. The roach killer was basically a text message at 3:00 a.m., Phil’s version of “Hey, u up?”
But she would not let this man, who saw her as no more than his personal support staff and not a valuable partner, weasel his way back into her life with one bottle of roach spray. Not that second-guessing wasn’t happening for her. She might not have had red hair and potential last week, but she also wasn’t scared for her life. She and the kids used to be safe.
Scratch that, Gabby had always been scared to death about everything, but the threats needed WebMD research before. Nothing like an actual threat to put a suspicious rash into perspective.
“When I was over the other night, I noticed a few bulbs were out.” He pulled a pack of bulbs out of the bag and flashed a high-wattage smile. “I know you’re not tall enough for the bulbs in the hallway.” He swaggered in that direction and started unscrewing the glass dome.
Dear god. She was never going to be rid of him. “Phil, we were just about to go to bed.”
“I know you need help, Gabs.” He smiled over his shoulder.
That light had been out for approximately three years. This was the definition of too little, too late.
Before she could usher him out the front, someone knocked on the back door. Mr. Bubbles sounded the alarm and ran, ready to eviscerate whoever dared to knock. For once, that seemed like a good idea. Gabby’s dart gun was under her bed, and the only person who had threatened to stop by was Smirnov. Not that the Mafia knocked.
“Wow, I didn’t know you had a social life, Gabby.” Granny was sitting back and, from the look on her face, enjoying the show.
Phil paused unscrewing the dome and stared at the door like the visitor was interrupting his evening. “What kind of asshole is dropping by this time of night?” Phil, of all people, asked.
“Probably Justin.” She prayed.
“It’s late. Let me answer it.” On the way to the door, he said, “We should talk. I mean, how much are you relying on your grandmother?”
