Today,
I’m looking back at Dante and Charlie’s first date in All In, book two in my Firsts and Forever Series. It’s one of my favorite scenes I’ve ever written. I
always loved this couple, and I was so glad I got to revisit them in Armor, the
novella I published earlier this year. This scene doesn’t need a lot of
explanation, except to say Dante’s obviously not serious about wanting to shoot the
dog. Enjoy!
He’d
totally thought I was kidding.
I
met him in front of my apartment that evening at seven sharp and he started to
escort me to his car, but I said, “I’ll drive. We’re going to need my truck for
this.”
“For
what?”
“For
the breaking and entering. Or you know, the part of breaking and entering where
we haul away our bounty. Your BMW is too small for the job.”
“So,
you were actually serious about that?” Dante stared at me incredulously.
“I
never kid about committing felonies,” I told him with mock-seriousness, then
swung open the passenger door of my truck for him.
Instead
of getting in, he paused right in front of me. He was fighting back a smile,
and tried to look grave as he said, “Have you committed a lot of felonies?”
“Nope,
this is my first. But I’m highly prepared. I Googled breaking and entering and
found out everything I need to know. Plus, now I have you along as a crime
consultant.” I flashed a big, toothy grin at him.
“So
you know what I do for a living.”
“Yes.
Granted, bringing you along for this is kind of like bringing a tank into a knife
fight. But still, I’ll bet your expertise will come in handy. For one thing,
you might know how to work these.” I pulled a little black and white case out
of the pocket of my jeans and held it up.
“What
is that?”
“It’s
a lock picking kit.”
“Is
that…my God, it is. It’s got Hello Kitty on it.” He burst out laughing.
“Yeah,
yeah,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I know it’s not the big, manly lock picking
set you’re probably used to in your line of work. But this one was half as much
as any of the others.”
“Where
does one even find a Hello Kitty lock picking kit?” Dante asked with a raised
eyebrow and a huge smile.
“eBay,
of course. You can find anything on eBay.”
“Apparently.”
“Get
in,” I said, “We’re burning moonlight.”
He
plucked the little case from my hand and got in the truck. I slammed his door
(three times, because it had a tendency to swing open unexpectedly if you
didn’t close it just right), and then went around and got behind the wheel. As
I fired up the engine and pulled away from the curb, Dante unzipped the kit and
pulled out a couple slender tools.
“These
seem pretty flimsy,” he pointed out, bending one of the tools slightly with his
thumb. “They probably wouldn’t pick anything sturdier than a typical
residential lock.”
“Well,
then it’s a damn good thing we’re not headed to the Wells Fargo Bank right
now.”
“No?
That’s too bad. I haven’t pulled a good bank job in weeks.” I glanced over at
him and he grinned and said, “Kidding.” He turned around in his seat a bit and
studied my profile as he asked, “Are you actually okay with my job? You seem to
be taking it in stride, far better than I would have anticipated.”
The
mafia thing was utterly bizarre to me, something so far removed from the world
I lived in that I couldn’t even sort of come to grips with it. So I’d
compartmentalized it and tucked it away for later analysis. Instead of trying
to explain that, I answered with another question. “Are you really okay with me
taking you to commit a felony on our first date? Because most people would find
that odd.”
“Oh,
I find it incredibly odd,” he said, “and also completely entertaining. I don’t
date a lot, but I’m pretty sure this first date is already totally off the
charts in terms of overall bizarreness.”
“Don’t
worry, there will be time for a normal date after the breaking and entering. We
can grab some dinner if you want, and then go back to my apartment for loads of
wild monkey sex.” I had to say that humorously, because if I’d said it any
other way, I might have induced a panic attack in myself.
“Works
for me,” he said cheerfully, and rested his big hand on my right thigh.
A
couple minutes later, I parked the car on a quiet residential street in the
Richmond and took a deep breath. I’d been trying to keep this little excursion
light and upbeat, but my nerves surfaced now and I gripped the steering wheel
tightly. I stalled for a long moment, leaning forward to look at a white house
up the street. If I hadn’t brought a date, I really might have bailed on this
whole thing and gone back home. But having Dante along made me feel a little
more confident about this whole endeavor, for some reason.
I
took another deep breath, then swung the door open. “Please grab that white bag
by your feet and bring it along,” I said as I got out of the
truck.
He
did as I asked, peeking into the fast food sack he carried as we walked down
the sidewalk. “What’s this for?”
“It’s
to distract Peaches.”
“What’s
Peaches?”
“You’ll
see.” I jogged across the street with Dante right behind me, then hesitated at
the foot of the staircase leading up to the simple, white, row house. I sighed
and said as I looked up at the front door, “This is going to be pretty
anticlimactic if they’re home.”
“Want
me to go up and knock on the door?” Dante asked.
“That’s
a good idea. I’ll wait over here,” I said, and ducked around the side of the
staircase.
He
jogged up the stairs and knocked on the front door, which instantly triggered a
barking frenzy inside the house. After a few moments he tried the bell, and the
barking grew even louder. But no one came to the door.
“Looks
like we’re good to go.” I climbed the stairs, took my lock picking kit from
Dante, and crouched down as I said, “You be the lookout. I watched a YouTube
video on how to do this. It should only take a minute.” I unzipped the case and
removed two of the tools.
“Are
you ever going to tell me whose house this is?” Dante asked, turning his back
to the door and watching the street.
“Walter
and Ida Connolly’s,” I said.
“And
who are Walter and Ida Connolly?”
“My
parents.”
“We’re
robbing your parents?”
“Noooo.
That’d be nuts. We’re just going to get some of my stuff. We’re leaving their
stuff alone.”
“I
don’t understand. Why is your stuff locked up in your parents’ house, and why
do we need to break in to get it?”
I
jiggled the tools in the shiny new lock as I said, “Up until last week, I lived
here. Then I came out to my parents, and was disowned on the spot. That of
course also included getting kicked out. I’d only had the foresight to pack up
some clothes beforehand and stash them in my truck. I just thought I’d have to
clear out for a couple days until they calmed down a bit. I totally
underestimated the full extent of their rabid, Bible-thumping bigotry.”
“I’m
sorry, Charlie.”
I
sighed and said, “It is what it is. I should have anticipated this and planned
ahead. But instead, stupidly, I gave them more credit than they deserved. Damn,
this lock picking kit isn’t working.”
“Do
you want me to try?”
“Sure.”
We traded places, and I took over the job of lookout.
While
Dante went to work on the lock, I said, “I tried to come back home toward the
end of last week, which was when I realized they’d changed the locks. My father
swore at me through the door and told me I wasn’t welcome here anymore. He told
me never to come back. That’s fine with me, except for the fact that everything
I own is locked up in that house, and I’d like at least some of it back.” I
fought to keep my voice steady through that, mustering all my bravado.
“What
if they got rid of your stuff?” Dante was still working diligently on the lock.
“I
guess that’s a possibility. I would have come sooner, but they’re always home.
This is the one night of the week I knew they’d be gone, because this is when
they play bridge with the Sullivans.” I turned to see how Dante was doing, and
told him, “They’ll be home in less than two hours, so could you step it up a
bit?”
Dante
stood up and said, “Yeah, I totally can’t pick that lock.”
“You
can’t?”
“Nope.”
“How
is that even possible?” I asked him.
He
smirked at me and put the lock picking kit in my hand. “I’ve never picked a
lock in my life.”
“You’re
kidding.”
“Why
would I have done this?”
“Um,
because you’re in the mafia?”
“I’m
in the real mafia, not the Kindergarten mafia. If you want me to
shoot the lock out, that I can do.”
I
raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you armed right now?”
“Do
you want me to shoot the lock?”
“Hell
no! Attracting the attention of the whole neighborhood with gunfire would be
highly counterproductive. So does that mean you are armed right now?”
“Do
you really want to know?” He was grinning at me, his dark eyes sparkling.
I
thought about it for a moment, then said, “No. Come on, let’s try the back
door.”
As
we walked around the block to get to the alley behind my parents’ house, Dante
took my hand. I visibly flinched a little when he did that, so he asked, “Are
you okay with holding hands?”
“Yeah.
I mean, I’m not really used to public displays of affection. I only came out
last week, remember? Before that, I was way, way in the closet. Like,
back there with the winter coats and old prom dresses. But, you know, I need to
get used to being out.”
“If
it makes you uncomfortable, you can always let go of me,” he said, giving my
hand a gentle squeeze.
I
tightened my grip on him and said, “No thank you.”
When
we got to the alley, I jiggled the back gate and found it locked as usual. I
paused for a moment and regarded the seven foot high wooden fence with my hands
on my hips. Then I dragged over a lidded trash can, climbed on top of it, and
looked down at Dante. “I can’t believe you wore a three thousand dollar suit
tonight. Didn’t I tell you we’d be breaking and entering?”
He
grinned up at me. “You did. I didn’t believe you.”
I
hopped onto the top of the fence and sat on it for a moment. “You can wait
there if you want. It’d be a shame to mess up a suit that cost more than my
truck.”
“No
way am I sitting this out,” Dante said, removing his suit jacket and slinging
it onto the top of the fence beside me. He rolled back his sleeves as he said,
“Speaking of that piece of shit you drive, would you be offended if I bought
you a new car?”
“What?
Yes!”
He
got up on the trash can and I jumped into the yard. He then climbed onto the
top of the fence somewhat awkwardly and balanced precariously for a moment.
Finally he caught his balance and leapt into the yard, landing right in front
of me. “This is fun,” he said. “I don’t remember the last time I hopped a
fence.”
I
grinned at that. “Probably because you’re not in the Kindergarten mafia.”
“Probably.”
He smiled at me, and drew me into his arms.
“What
are you doing?”
“Thinking
about kissing you.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
He echoed incredulously.
“I
mean, why now? Did hopping a fence make you randy?”
He
laughed at that. “No. Well…kind of. Do you really call it being randy?”
“The
word ‘horny’ is kinda gross if you think about it. I immediately picture a big
frog with horns on its head. You know, like a horny toad? Either that, or I
think of Austin Powers, saying, do I make you hoooorny?” I’d said that
last part with a British accent, of course. Then I added, “Ew.”
“God,
you’re bizarre,” Dante said with a big smile, still holding me in his arms. It
was pretty dark in the backyard, but his amused expression was unmistakable.
“But
don’t you agree that horny is kind of a gross word?”
“No.
Are you rambling like this because the thought of kissing me makes you
nervous?”
“Definitely.”
“Thought
so,” he said, before brushing his lips to mine.
I
wrapped my arms around him and held on tight as the kiss deepened and my lips
parted under his. My entire body responded as the kiss became passionate,
insistent, his tongue claiming my mouth, his big hands crushing me against him.
Everything else fell away, besides Dante, and me, and that epic kiss.
Then
the dog started barking inside the house, bringing me back to the here and now.
It brought Dante back to earth, too. He picked up my hand and we went around to
the kitchen door on the right side of the building.
I
crouched down and went to work on the lock. There was a little light coming
from the neighbor’s house, just enough to see by. Dante pulled his phone out of
his pocket, and as he flipped through a few screens he said, “Randy is far
worse than horny. Unless you’re British, I suppose. But since I’m not British,
the word Randy immediately conjures images of a guy with a big belt buckle who
drives a truck.”
“Truck
drivers with big belt buckles make you randy?”
“No!
Truck drivers with big belt buckles would be called Randy. The proper
noun, not the adjective you’re trying to make it into.”
“It’s
an adjective? Not a verb?”
“Why
would randy be a verb?” Dante asked as he crouched down beside me.
“I
dunno. Seems like an action word.”
He
chuckled at that and held up his phone, then tapped the screen. A YouTube video
on lock picking started to play. I studied the video, then concentrated on the
lock. Fifteen minutes later, I sat back on my heels and sighed. “I suck at
this.”
“Here,
let me try,” Dante said, and we traded places. I played the video for him again
and he watched closely, then went to work on the lock.
“Maybe
I should have spent more money and not gone with the Hello Kitty lock pick
set,” I said after a while.
“Ya
think?”
“So
maybe we should come back same time next week with some better tools.”
“Oh,
there’s nothing wrong with these tools,” Dante said, his brow knit in
concentration as he worked the lock. “You just shouldn’t have gotten the Hello
Kitty set because you’re a grown man, and not a five-year-old girl.”
I
laughed at that. “What kind of a psychotic company would make a lock pick set
for a five-year-old girl?”
“What,
do you think you’re the target market for that product?”
“Apparently,
since I actually bought it.”
“Incidentally,
I’m pretty sure that kit isn’t a licensed Sanrio product,” he informed me. “The
cat doesn’t look quite right. Its head is kind of square. It’s probably some
sort of cheap, trademark violating knockoff. Not so much Hello Kitty as Hell No
Kitty.”
I
laughed at that. “Well, I’ll be sure to turn ‘em in to the Hello Kitty police.
Why do you know that the company that makes Hello Kitty is Sanrio?”
“Everyone
knows that. Come here and help me.”
I
crouched down beside him. “What do you want me to do?”
“Kiss
me,” he said, and leaned over and planted a big smooch on my lips. He smiled at
me and added, “Now hold this bottom tool in place while I work the top one.”
After
a couple minutes with both of us working on it, we heard a clicking sound and
looked at each other with wide eyes. Dante reached up and turned the door handle.
“It’s unlocked,” he said with a huge smile.
“We
did it!”
“Well,
either that or it was unlocked the whole time. I don’t think we actually
checked it before we started working on it.”
“No,
think positive,” I said, straightening up. “We’re awesome. We totally picked
the hell out of that lock.”
Dante
straightened up too, and we gave each other a high-five. He reached for the
door handle, and I said, “Get the hamburgers ready.”
“The
what?’
“The
hamburgers. Wait, what did you do with the fast food bag?”
“Shit.
I must have left it on the front porch.”
“Oh
man! How are you even a criminal? I’m a better criminal than you are!”
Dante
chuckled at that. “Want me to go back over the fence and around to the front of
the house and grab the bag?”
“No.
It’ll take way too long, and this has already taken forever. We’re going in,
just stay behind me. I’m going to go straight through to the front door and
grab the burgers, and then when we’ve used them to distract Peaches we can run
upstairs to my room and get my stuff. We’re not going to try to take
everything, just a few clothes and a couple things that have sentimental
value,” I told him. Then I flung the kitchen door open.
We
were greeted by a small, brownish-black spiky mess of fur with big sharp teeth
and a tremendous underbite. It growled and lunged and snapped viciously. “My
God, what is that?” Dante asked, slipping into the kitchen and closing the door
behind us. He really did stay behind me, using me as a human shield. Chicken.
“That’s
Peaches.”
“But…what
is it?”
“It’s
a dog.”
“That’s
not a dog,” Dante said as he leapt back a few inches, out of snapping underbite
range.
“Sure
it is. What else would it be?” I asked as I carefully eased around the crazed
canine.
“A
rabid, reanimated Muppet, maybe? What the hell kind of dog is it?”
“He’s
an Affenpinscher. Mostly.”
“That’s
not a real breed,” Dante said, hugging the wall behind me as I guided us
through the kitchen and down the hall.
“Of
course it is.” The dog continued to snarl and jump at us. He made up for the fact
that he was only a foot tall by his hell-bent determination to kill us.
“Wait!
You lived here, up until a week ago. Why is it attacking you?”
“Peaches
has always hated me.” We’d finally reached the front door, and I swung it open
carefully, holding the dog back with my foot. “Actually, he hates everyone,
except for my mom and dad.”
The
dog growled and latched onto the cuff of my jeans, shaking his head violently,
as if he was trying to kill my foot like a rat. “Oh shit,” Dante exclaimed.
“It’s got you. Want me to shoot it?”
“Hell
no, I don’t want you to shoot my parents’ dog! Though if you’d remembered the
hamburgers, that would have been helpful.”
“You
didn’t remember them either.”
“You
were carrying the bag. It was your responsibility,” I said as I hopped up and down
on one foot, the eleven-pound dog trying his damnedest to pull me off balance,
and reached outside the door and grabbed the white paper bag.
I
thrust the sack at Dante. “Throw him a hamburger. That’ll distract him.” The
dog was still shaking my pant leg violently, and Dante grabbed a burger, pulled
off the paper, and started to throw it to Peaches. “Not the bun,” I told him,
holding onto the doorframe with both hands to keep from tipping over.
“Why
not?” he asked as he shook the patty onto the floor. Immediately, the dog let
go of my leg and started scarfing down the meat.
I
stood upright and pushed my hair off my forehead as I said, “Because Peaches
has a gluten intolerance. If he eats bread, he’ll have diarrhea for a week.”
Dante
stared at me for a long moment with one eyebrow raised, as if I was totally
insane. Then, while still maintaining eye contact with me, he tossed the bun to
the dog. Peaches caught it and wolfed it down.
