Red Hot, Reaper’s older brother, had connected with a cartel. Some hard dudes came by, and Bobby Ray stayed in the shadows when they did. Reaper liked playing the big man when his brother wasn’t around. He had two trophy kids under two years of age from different girls. Every time he bragged about them, Bobby Ray thought of his mother. Was that what happened to her? Some guy knocked her up just to prove he was a man, then dumped her and moved on to another?
“Hey, Bird! Wake up!” Lardo punched Bobby Ray in the shoulder. “Are you going to the party tonight or not?”
“Not in the mood.” Pot made him slow and dumb, and he’d seen enough of what heroin and meth did to stay away from the stuff. Mr. Newman’s offer throbbed behind his eyes like an oncoming headache. He liked going to the library, though he made sure no one knew about his visits. It was a quiet place to chill. He’d rather read than do homework. He’d rather look at pictures of Civil War soldiers than listen to Reaper or Wolf talking about their women. Tonight, at least.
GRACE MET HER FRIENDS Shanice Tyson, Ashley O’Toole, and Nicole Torres at their favorite Sunday-after-church diner. Shanice looked disappointed. “Where’s our little man?”
“He’s at home with Selah. He had a fever. I was up and down with him most of the night. He’s fine this morning, but sleepy.” Grace had given in to Selah’s desire to keep Samuel home. She wanted to go to church and have her weekly time out with friends. This lunch gathering had become a lifeline. Talking with her friends helped her work through things. And she needed to talk over her situation with Roman Velasco and get their input.
A kindergarten teacher, Ashley dealt with helicopter parents.
Nicole worked as a paralegal for a law firm and had a hopeless crush on Charles, her work-obsessed boss.
Shanice, the wild one, had graduated from NYU, taken a year off to travel, and landed a studio job where she was on a set design team. She’d met movie stars and said they were no different from anyone else, even though some of them thought they were. Now she was telling the others about her latest job assignment. “The director wants to film in Utah at the salt flats. The place has the right alien-planet look.”
“Will you get to go?” Ashley dreamed of traveling anywhere outside Southern California. Hooked on old-fashioned Regency romances, she longed to go to England and stay in a castle, preferably one with an eligible and aristocratic bachelor in residence.
“Not if I can help it.” Shanice snorted. “It’s hotter than hades in the summer. Mono Lake is closer and more interesting, but they said Utah, and Utah gives tax credits.”
“I have a book on Mono Lake.” Ashley emptied three packets of Splenda into her coffee.
Nicole sipped hers black. “Pastor Jack was on a roll this morning. He doesn’t usually talk for a full hour. I thought he’d never stop.”
“Ironic you should complain.” Shanice smirked. “Since his sermon was on complaining.”
They all laughed with her.
“You’re awfully quiet, Grace.” Shanice raised her brows. “How’s the temp job going? It’s been, what, a month now? You thought you might only stay two weeks.”
“I’m thinking of putting in my notice with the agency.”
“Why?” Ashley looked surprised. “Roman Velasco is fascinating! And he’s gorgeous, and if that isn’t enough, he’s single!” The others stared at her. “I googled him.” She leaned forward, eager to share. “He started doing murals when he was a teenager. Now he works on canvas. Did you know art collectors line up to bid on his work?”
“He still does murals.” Grace gave the waitress her order and handed back the menu. She’d overslept this morning and had no time for breakfast. Now she was starving, as well as exhausted. “He’s under contract for a project in San Diego.”
Ashley’s eyes brightened. “What’s it going to be?”
“Wildebeests and zebras migrating across the Serengeti.” Grace sipped coffee, hoping the caffeine would give her a boost.
Nicole wasn’t interested in the mural. “Why do you want to leave? It’s the only job you’ve been able to find.”
Shanice gave a derisive laugh. “Gorgeous? Single? And has a reputation as a player?” She shrugged. “Okay. I googled him, too.” She gave Grace a sympathetic look. “Too much like Patrick?”
“Actually, he’s nothing like Patrick. He works hard, for one thing. And Patrick had charm. Roman Velasco acts like a bear with his foot in a trap. I’ve never met anyone so discontented, or so quick to lose his temper. You know I almost quit on the first day. He’s frustrated with his work, not mine. I don’t think he likes what he’s doing.” She put her coffee cup down. “The man has the most incredible view I’ve ever seen and never gives it more than a passing glance. He turned the master bedroom into his art studio. I think he practices on the back wall and then covers whatever he’s doing with some awful color that looks like a dirty swamp. His language is enough to peel paint.”