Color Me Pretty: A Father's Best Friend Romance

He pulled out onto the street, getting in line with the backed-up traffic. “An hour ago, boss. Maybe a little more. I tried asking her if she was all right, but she didn’t want to talk about it. Thought you should know that it looked like she was crying.”

What the hell was she doing with the Murphy girl? She’d told me months ago they weren’t friends anymore, especially since the other two were being prima donna bitches to her like their fucking mothers were to everyone. “She didn’t say anything?”

“No.”

“You sure she was crying?” It was rare Della did that around anyone. She told me once she didn’t like people seeing her weak, which was bullshit. Her mother always told her it was okay to cry. What the hell had she told Della for years when she was little? “The sky isn’t weak, is it, sweet Della? It cries too sometimes.”

Elizabeth always told Della stories about Greek mythology—how everything and everybody had a place. Della would always ask her to tell her a new one or repeat her favorites. Shit, she’d compared me and a few of Anthony’s other friends to the Gods themselves. Maybe it was that day I knew that little girl owned me. Her words didn’t pump my ego, they wrapped me around her finger. Either way, Zeus had been her favorite. She’d told me stories about the sky and the storms and how much she wished she were a goddess. I’d told her she was. Elizabeth would always smile and shake her head at me.

“Pretty sure.”

“Fuck,” I sighed, looking out the window. I’d planned on going home to change before meeting Della, but things changed. “Take me to her complex, would you?”

I saw the faintest smile in the rearview, before he’d answered, “I already planned on it. Knew you’d want to see her once I told you.”

Blinking slowly, I eyed him. “That obvious?”

“You’re there for her,” was all he said.

A noise rose from the back of my throat that wasn’t really an answer. Dallas chuckled anyway, amused for a reason I had no interest in exploring. He could think what he wanted, I wasn’t going to think about it more than I needed to.

After a moment of silence between us that was filled with cars honking, people yelling, and construction work from 3rd Avenue, I said, “Do you know if she was okay?”

That damn smile grew. “She seemed as okay as she could be. Just upset. I know she used to be friends with Katrina, but…” I waited impatiently for him to finish as he moved forward once the light ahead turned green. “Well, the girl is using. Word on the street is that she’s distributing to the Pratt and Vandyke girl. A few others, too. Flamell has some pictures of them over on the south side, near the warehouse where Richard Pratt has a few businesses. The Murphy girl was with a group he couldn’t identify. Dealing for him, probably.”

I couldn’t believe it. “You’re just telling me this now? Flamell didn’t say shit to me about that. If there’s more evidence that Pratt is letting people like his goddamn friend’s daughter distribute, then—”

Dallas sighed heavily. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to get involved, boss. Think about Della. Flamell knows you two are close. If you take that information and run with it, what would that do to her?”

“She was around somebody who’s clearly unstable. If she’s using and dealing, Della shouldn’t be around her.”

“I’m sure she knows that.”

“Then what the fuck is the problem?”

“They were friends,” he pointed out lightly, locking eyes with me in the mirror. “Even if they aren’t anymore, we both know Della will always hold some sort of loyalty to people that were in her life. She wouldn’t want to see Kat brought down.”

Fuck me. He was right and he damn well knew it when he nodded once. Sometimes, I wanted to shake Della until sense was brought to her, but that was selfish of me. Her loyalty wasn’t a bad thing. “She’d want to see her get help instead,” I agreed, shaking my head.

Dallas hummed in agreement.

Cursing, I looked at my watch. “What’s Flamell going to do about it then?”

There was a brief pause. “What you can’t.”

I stared at the back of his head until understanding sunk in. “He’s going to go after the girls to get them to talk. There’d be no way for Pratt to get off with a slap on the wrist with actual witnesses testifying against him on top of the other evidence.”

Again, Dallas nodded.

Sitting back, I watched the scenery pass slowly by us. Rush hour was always a pain in the ass, but it wasn’t too different from any other time of day when you were in the city. It was suffocating, loud. I’d considered moving more times than I could count, but never did. I didn’t want to be too far away from Della.

I spoke up again. “Everybody seems to know what Della is to me. Isn’t always a good thing considering Pratt is trying to use it against me. Here I thought I was discreet.”

“Do you want people to know?”

“Eventually,” I murmured.

“If you don’t mind me saying—” I chuckled over his cautiousness, it never stopped him from sharing his two cents. “I don’t think people care as much as Pratt, or you, think they would.”