Grace noticed another couple leaving. “I think they came in after we did.” She glanced at her phone to check the time. “Oh, my.” She and Brian had been talking for over two hours.
They left the booth and went outside. Brian held her sweater for her. They walked to her car, and he opened her door. “How far do you have to drive?”
“I’ll be home by eleven. It’s been a real pleasure meeting you, Brian. Thank you for a wonderful evening.” His hand was warm and firm.
“The kids will want to know how it went tonight. I’ll be telling them the evening far exceeded my expectations.”
“My friends will be asking the same questions, and I’ll tell them the same thing.”
Brian grinned. “In that case, would you like to join me and twenty-odd teenagers for a beach party Saturday after next?”
“Were you setting me up?” Grace laughed. “Sounds like fun, but only if I can bring Samuel.”
“Absolutely. Can’t wait to meet him.”
On the drive home, Grace heard her phone signal an incoming text. She read it after she had parked. Shanice, of course. Call me when you get in. I want to know details.
Shanice, a night owl, answered on the second ring. “Good time?”
“It turned out to be a very nice evening.” Grace kept her tone bland.
“Oh.” Shanice sounded disappointed, then brightened. “Nice enough to see him again?”
“Yes.”
“Fantastic! Tell me everything.”
“You’ll have to wait until Sunday.” Grace said good night and ended the call.
Roman used a paint roller on the back wall of his studio before Grace showed up Monday morning. He didn’t want to see the look on her face if she discovered where his real passion in art lay. When she came in with his mug of coffee, the scent of fresh paint still hung heavily in the air. She looked at the back wall. “You painted the wall again.” She grimaced. “What do you call that color? Mud?”
“Good description. It’s a little of this and that all poured into the same can, and that’s what you get.” He hesitated, then added, “Cities use it to buff graffiti.”
“I hope that’s not your idea of redecorating.”
He dabbed more red on the one remaining painting. Talia had picked up the other two. “I finished the transfer. I leave for San Diego this afternoon. I’ll be gone a week, at least. Maybe two.” Less if he worked long hours. If he ran short of any supplies, he could order what he needed and have it delivered. “I’ll finish this painting before I go. Talia can come and get it in a couple days.”
“Is there anything in particular you want me to do here while you’re gone?”
Her gaze kept drifting to that blasted wall still marred by faint outlines of the darker colors and shapes beneath. Was she trying to figure out what he’d painted? He made a downward stroke of red, lifted the brush away, and set his palette aside. “Why don’t you shop for furniture? Jasper Hawley said he wanted a bed to sleep in the next time he comes to visit.”
She kept looking at the wall, tilting her head slightly. “I need to know your taste.”
“Anything but shabby chic or French country.”
She laughed. “I’ll have you know I paid good money for my furnishings. Only the best of what the Salvation Army had to offer.”
“You won’t need to be that frugal on my dime.”
“What about bedding?”
“That, too. Pillows to sleep on.”
“How about decorative pillows?”
“Like the five you have on your couch?”
She looked surprised. “You counted them?”
“I remember what I see. You also have one on your swivel rocker, and I’m guessing a dozen more on your bed.” He wiped his hands on an oily cloth and decided he’d better change the subject. “Buy something that never goes out of style.”
He’d been striving for quality since his beginning in the Tenderloin, where it was scarce as money.
“How much are you willing to spend?”
“My bedroom set cost forty grand.”
“What?” Grace gasped. “Where do you find furniture that expensive?”
“I hired an interior decorator.”
“Oh. Why don’t I call her? She’ll know what suits you better than I do.”
“What makes you think it was a she? And maybe I want something different this time.” Grace was about as different as a girl could be from those he’d known up to now. “Something a little more . . . I don’t know. Classy. Use your instincts.”