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“Meeting the parents?” She shakes her head. “Something that dangerous would cost you a lot more than 20 grand, mister.”
I smile, which is something I haven’t done out of true mirth in quite some time. We eat in silence for a little while longer.
Della bustles in, her hands full of packages.
“Let me help.”
She gives me a sour look. “Sit down and eat. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Is that everything?” I eye the pile in her arms.
“From this first delivery, yes.” She keeps walking and disappears into the rest of the house.
“To the master,” I call. “I can help you—”
“No, and I know where everything goes better than you do! Jeez, Xavier,” Della sasses me, as usual.
“She gets to talk to you like that?” Laura seems surprised. “I mean, after what you did to Fat Tommy—” She winces.
“Della’s the only employee I let get away with it. She’s had a hard-enough past that she doesn’t need any shit from me.”
“What do you mean?”
I want to know about Laura, but she’s pulling my past from me instead. “I found her half dead from addiction, lying in a back alley along the strip. I should’ve left her there, but I took her in. She recovered, started working for me, and began a new life. Now she and her wife live in the guest house. Della cleans and fusses over me while Eliana paints and writes.”
Laura’s eyes brighten. “You saved her.”
I roll my shoulders. “I got a valuable employee.”
A rumble sounds from the hallway, and then Della’s harsh curse floats to my ears. “It’s okay, I got it,” she yells.
I rub the bridge of my nose. “Oh, Della.”
“What’s all that stuff?”
“Your things.”
“What?” She cocks her head to the side in an adorably confused way.
“Not your old things. Your apartment is just as you left it,” I explain. “These are new things I thought you might like.”
“You’re giving Dobby a sock?” she asks.
“Come again?”
She rolls her eyes. “Oh my God, I may be a prisoner, but you need to get out more. We need aHarry Potter-a-thon, stat. Do you have movies?”
“Harry Potter movies?”
“Yeah.” She grabs my plate and hers and takes them to the sink before I can protest. “We need to watch them.”
“I can get them, sure.”
Sue strolls into the kitchen, her big green eyes on the newcomer.
Laura turns. “We can watch—oh my God!”
Her scream is beyond ear-splitting, and I have some more explaining to do.
