Free Unlucky by Jana DeLeon Page A

rise from her chair, her fists already clenched in anticipation of knocking the bastard out cold. Then she felt the sharp point of Amy's heel stab her directly in her big toe. She glared at her friend, who gave her the barest shake of her head, everything in her expression telling Mallory not to do what she'd been planning.
    Mallory bit her lip and unclenched her hands. As much as she hated to admit it, Amy was right. Hitting Royal wouldn't solve anything but to get her a night in the tank for assault--hardly a good way to win the money she needed--and now more than ever, Mallory wanted to keep Royal from owning Harry's business.
    "You think it's easy to work demolition?" Scooter stared at Walter Royal like he had tost his mind. "Demolition's harder than construction. Hell, you can bend wood to fix just about anything, and what you can't bend you can hide with molding and caulk, but if you rig dynamite wrong, you blast up a city block."
    Royal gave Scooter a look of dismissal and waved one hand. "I never said I was replacing everyone at the company--just the foreman. It's a management decision. I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand."
    Scooter leveled his gaze on Royal, his voice calm and strong. "I understand being screwed, Mr. Royal. It always looks the same."
    Mallory saw Scooter tense and knew he was about to stand up and finish what she'd started to do earlier. Holding one hand up to put Scooter at bay, she gave Walter a fake smile. "I guess I'll be looking at my other options, then." She extended one hand toward Royal. "I appreciate the heads-up. It will give me an opportunity to start checking on some firms in New Orleans."
    Royal stared at her for a moment and she tried like hell to form her expression into the model of sincerity. It must have worked because he finally gave her a broad smile and extended his hand. "I knew you'd see reason. It's nothing personal, after all. It's just business."
    Mallory shook his hand and gave him a nod. "Of course." She released his hand and turned around to face the others, knowing Amy would let her know when her archenemy had vacated the area.
    "Asshole," Amy said, and Mallory knew Royal had retreated to his hole under a rock.
    "Is his back to us?" Mallory asked, itching to turn around and see what would befall her nemesis.
    Amy nodded. "Yeah, it's safe to look."
    Mallory turned slightly in her chair and watched as Royal crossed the dining area. Just as he stepped in front of the double doors to the kitchen, someone inside swung one of them open and plowed him right in the face. The force of the blow had Royal staggering backward into the nearest table where the occupants had just been served the lunch meal of spaghetti and meatballs.
    The occupants jumped from the table as Royal fell backward across it, a shower of spaghetti and red wine shooting up from the table and raining down to cover him. The door-slinging waiter stared in horror, then rushed into action, helping Royal off the now-broken table and trying to wipe at the stains on his shirt.
    "Stop touching me, you moron!" Royal yelled, and shoved the waiter away from him. "I'll be talking to Reginald about this. You
will
be buying me a new suit." Royal gave the waiter a final glare, then stomped across the dining area to the lobby exit, leaving a trail of spaghetti in his wake.
    It was all Mallory could do to hold in her laughter until he'd made his exit. Amy's face was beet red and she had her napkin pressed over her mouth. Scooter was doubled over on the floor next to the table, giant tears streaming down his face.
    When the door slammed behind him, the three of them collapsed in laughter. The other players stared for a moment, then started to join in by smiling or letting out a chuckle or two. After all, it
was
funny, and Walter Royal wasn't exactly the most popular man in Louisiana.
    "I can't believe he was stupid enough to shake your hand," Amy said as she dabbed at the corner of her eyes with her napkin. "What