Acquiring Trouble

that I don’t even want a good spin on this.   It’s non-news.   He’ll understand.”
    Jake whistled softly in appreciation.   “Is there anyone you don’t know?”
    “Yes, you if you call me again today.”
    Jake laughed, but they both knew it hadn’t been a joke.   “Do yourself a favor, Dom .. .” Jake continued in an unusually authoritative tone.  
    What now?   Dominic sighed.
    “... put down the Jack Daniels for a night and pick up one of those models you like to date.   You'll sleep better.”
    Dominic gave a non-committal grunt and hung up.   If only it were that easy.  
     

 

    Chapter Two
     
    Arms full of bed linens, Abby Dartley froze at the click of the front door opening. Darn it. She couldn't get caught here, especially in an oversized shirt and jeans instead of her sister's maid uniform.   Lil needs this job.   Cleaning the brownstone of a man who never actually occupied it had sounded like a relatively simple, albeit annoying, way to help her sister remain employed.
    “Do not let anyone see you,” Lil had pleaded between the fits of sneezes that had accompanied her low, but persistent fever.   “They’ll fire me in a second if they find out that you went in my place.”
    “Can’t you just call in?”   Abby remembered suggesting hopefully.
    “I already used my two allowed sick days for Colby,” and then the tears had come.
    A year ago, Abby would have let her sister add this lost job to the long string of employment she’d already tried and failed at and would have covered her expenses until she found a new job. They’d been through this cycle countless times, resulting only in Lil resenting Abby more with each passing year.   The closeness they’d shared before the death of their parents was a distant, surreal memory.
    Abby had considered asking Lil to move out, hoping that some separation would give Lil the independence she said she wanted, but that was before she’d held her new niece in her arms.   It wasn’t just about Lil anymore.   Colby deserved a mother with a stable career and Lil was so close to having one.   She was one semester away from finishing her administrative assistant courses.   Even when Colby’s father had walked out at the news of his fatherhood, Lil hadn’t crumbled.   For the first time since they’d received the news of the accident that had claimed the lives of both of their parents, Lil wasn't hiding from her responsibilities.  
    Colby had changed that, too.
    It wasn’t Lil’s fault that she’d caught the flu.   Half the city seemed to be either recovering from it or succumbing to it.   More importantly, it had been a long time since Lil had actually requested help, rather than merely grudgingly accepting it.   Abby didn’t want to put too much significance on such a miniscule connection, but she couldn’t shake the hope that things could get better between them.
    Her first impression of him as he stood in the entrance, unaware of her existence, was that he looked more tired than a man of his age should.   Dark circles were evident even against his olive complexion.   His expensive suit did nothing to conceal the slump of his wide shoulders.   According to Lil, he'd paid to have the brownstone cleaned on a weekly basis, but hadn't actually been there in over a decade.   Something had brought him back and whatever it was, it had steamrolled right over him.
    He looked up and through her as he crossed the foyer.   “You can go now.”
    She considered following his weary command, but something held her immobile.  
    “Are you deaf?   I said you can leave.   Finish whatever you're doing tomorrow.”  
    Mr. Armani sounded like an over-tired child, although she was fairly certain that he wouldn't appreciate the comparison.   The wisest choice of action would have been to do as he said and leave before he had a chance to question her on her attire, but she couldn't.
    He didn't look like someone who should be alone.
    Was she simply projecting? Her friends often accused her of seeing good where there was none, but that was a hazard of her job. To be an effective middle school teacher, one had to see beyond the bravado.   Abby taught English to non-native speakers, so she was often employed in the toughest schools in the city.   She was used to defusing misdirected anger. Profanity was a cry for help. Harsh words often hid fear. Her patience paid off.   Students returned, year after year, to thank her for