“About what?” She refolded the map as he drove toward Malibu.
“Coming on this road trip with me.”
She looked at him. “You didn’t call it a road trip. You said it was strictly business.”
“Take it easy. I’m not kidnapping you.”
“Are we going to Golden or not?”
“We’ll get there.” He nodded to the map in her hand. “Find Ojai.”
Frowning slightly, she refocused on the map.
Roman glanced at Grace. She was looking out the car window. She’d hardly spoken on the drive to Ojai. Was he getting the silent treatment? Roman wondered what she was thinking, but didn’t dare ask. He had tricked her. She didn’t know the full extent yet. “Have you been to Ojai?”
Her smile was relaxed. “I’d never driven through Ventura until today.”
Surprised, he gave her a quick look before he pulled into a parking space on Ojai Avenue. “We’ll check out a few galleries after breakfast. Might be good to see what other people are selling.” He was also curious what would catch her eye. He knew she didn’t care for his work.
He found a café on a side street near the Arcade. The hostess seated them by the window. Grace thanked her. Tucking her purse under her chair, she looked across at him. “Is something wrong?”
“Not at all. I’m just beginning to realize how little I know about you.”
“I could say the same.”
“Where were you born?”
She leaned back, studying him. For a moment, he didn’t think she’d tell him. “Memphis, Tennessee. What about you?”
“San Francisco. Do you have family in Memphis?”
Her expression clouded. “I was young when my parents died. My aunt brought me to Fresno when I was seven. Are your parents in San Francisco?”
She didn’t want to talk about her parents, which made him curious how they’d died. Better to answer her question before asking another. “You and I have something in common. I was seven the last time I saw my mother. She went out one night and never came back. CPS took over after she disappeared. I moved around a lot.” A slight understatement. He couldn’t even remember all the foster homes he’d run away from.
Roman had just told her more about his past than he’d ever told a woman. Thankfully, she didn’t look at him with pity. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking. He gave in to curiosity. “How’d your parents die?”
She let out her breath softly and avoided his perusal. He knew she wasn’t going to tell him when the waitress arrived with their coffee and asked if they were ready to order. Roman said they needed a few more minutes. Grace avoided further conversation by hiding behind the menu. The waitress returned and took their orders. Grace faced him again, expression enigmatic. “When did you decide to become an artist?”
She didn’t want to talk about her parents. Okay. “I didn’t decide. It just happened. A teacher caught me doodling in class and said he’d accept drawings in lieu of incomplete homework assignments.”
“You told me you tagged buildings. Were you in a gang?”
He smiled slightly. “Quid pro quo.” He’d answered her questions. She shook her head.
Breakfast was a quiet affair.
On the way out of the restaurant, Roman paused at a display of tourist brochures. “Let’s take a walk.” Grace fell into step beside him. He found the first gallery around the corner from the Arcade. Roman wandered, taking note of where Grace lingered. She liked seascapes, landscapes, watercolors. No wonder she didn’t like his work. But then, neither did he.
She must have felt him looking at her because she turned. “Time to go?” They headed for the car.
Roman felt edgy when she stayed silent as he drove. He’d never had a problem getting a conversation started with a woman. He stopped at a coffee shop in Ventucopa. “I need a caffeine break. How about you?” Grace asked for a latte. She talked with a woman at the bakery counter. He had to wait for the coffees, and saw there was no lull in Grace’s conversation. She glanced over when he collected their order. The women exchanged a few more words, and Grace touched her arm before joining him.
He handed her the latte. “You don’t have any trouble making friends, do you?” He wished she’d be that open and friendly with him.
“Veronica says the wildflowers are still in bloom on the Carrizo Plain.”
Veronica. Grace probably knew the woman’s entire family history.