As soon as Roman walked in the door, Hector called out and wove his way through the tables packed with patrons, a wide grin on his brown face. “Amigo!” He waved his arm toward the wall. “What do you think?”
Roman liked the vibrant colors, the mountains in the background, Mexican workers toiling in fields, a beautiful Latina carrying a basket of white lilies, children in colorful costumes dancing in a circle. He nodded. “Buen trabajo, amigo.”
Hector laughed. “You speak Spanish!”
Roman forced a smile. “You just heard the extent of my vocabulary.” Other than gracias and a string of curses best forgotten. A plump redhead made her way toward them. Roman recognized her from the picture Hector had shared in San Diego. “Your girlfriend?”
“Mi esposa. Two weeks ago. Vegas. No questions asked.” Hector put a possessive arm around her as she looked at him with adoring eyes. “Tracy, meet Roman Velasco, el patrón.”
“A pleasure.” Roman shook her hand.
“Hector has talked a lot about you.”
Roman winced. “I’m not an easy boss.”
Hector wasn’t finished dispensing news. “We’re expecting a bebé.” He looked proud and happy. Feeling an odd pang of envy, Roman congratulated them.
“Come.” Hector waved him over to a vacant table. “Dinner is on me.”
The guacamole and chips were fresh and delicious, the salsa hot enough to make Roman’s eyes water. For a small girl, Tracy had a big appetite. Hector chuckled and said she was eating enough for twins. Roman ordered a combination plate of chiles rellenos, enchiladas, refried beans, and rice. Hector talked about the importance of family and friends. Other mural projects had come his way. He’d be able to support a family now, but assured Roman he never forgot un amigo. “Anytime you need me, I’ll be there.”
Roman told him the mural in San Diego had been his last. “I’m working on canvas now.” The landscape would keep him occupied for a while. What then? And when he finished it, would he sell it? Doubtful.
The waitress cleared plates and brought back coffee and flan.
“Bring Grace next time you come down. She’ll want to see the wall.”
“Grace quit.”
Hector’s brows shot up. “You let her?”
“Wasn’t my call.”
“But you still see her. Yes? She lives right next door.”
“She moved out. This morning, as a matter of fact.”
Hector looked angry. “Eres estúpido o no más obstinado?”
Tracy blushed. “Hector said—”
Roman held up his hand. “I think I got it.” Was he stupid or just obstinate? Why not be honest? “Let’s just say I took a shot, and she dodged the bullet.”
“You just give up?”
Roman turned the mug of coffee and didn’t answer.
Hector shook his head. “She was good for you, jefe.”
“Yeah.” Roman lifted his mug. “But I wasn’t good for her.” He looked at the gold band on Hector’s finger. “Things don’t always work out the way you hope.”
Dinner over, Roman didn’t feel up to Topanga Canyon and drove to Laguna Beach. Talia’s gallery was closed. Just as well. She’d want to know what he was painting. If he told her, she’d want to sell it, sight unseen. He headed north. He stopped in Malibu and walked the beach. He sat, forearms resting on his knees. The moon shimmered white light on the sea. He thought of the light that had surrounded him, the firm grip that had pulled him up from the abyss.
Jesus, why did You bother saving me?
Angry, Roman pulled out his phone.
Jasper’s voice was groggy from sleep. “Everything okay?”
“I took your advice and suggested Grace and I move to the next level.”
“Oh.” Silence. “And?”
“She quit. She moved out of the cottage.”
Blankets rustled and Jasper sighed deeply. “Start at the beginning.”
“I made a nice dinner, set everything up on the patio. She likes the view.” Roman’s eyes felt gritty. He stopped talking and tried to breathe.
“Did you make a pass?”
“I kissed her. She said she loved me. I asked her to move in—”
“Move in?”
“She didn’t like the idea of being friends with benefits.”
Jasper groaned. “Bobby Ray, when I said ‘settle down,’ I didn’t mean ask her to shack up with you. I meant marry her.”