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Mateo cocked his head to the side, assessing Grayson with amusement on his face. He grinned. “Damn, you really are handsome,” Mateo said. Grayson’s cheeks heated.

“Ah, that was your—?” Grayson started.

“Wife, yes,” Mateo replied. “Luckiest man alive, I know. And you met my daughter, too, I think.”

“Yes,” Grayson said, blinking. “She threw up on me.” He startled, realizing this was maybe not the correct thing to say, but Mateo laughed.

“That’ll be our Esme,” he said, grinning. “Don’t worry, that means she likes you!”

“It’s true!” William said, looking up from shuffling a deck of cards for the group. “She threw up on me three seconds into our first meeting—that’s a record for her. Ask anyone.”

“That doesn’t mean she likes you better, you stupid shit,” Michael said.

William snorted. “Does so.”

“Shut up and deal,” Charles said. The old men busied themselves while Grayson shuffled a bit on his feet. He looked around, taking in the art on the walls.

“The artwork is cool,” Grayson said to Mateo, clearing his throat. “Did you have someone come and paint it?”

“We did, yeah,” Mateo said. “Hired an artist for it when I took over a few years ago and revamped the place for new business. Papa was against changing the shit he’d had for the past twenty years but eventually let me do it, and it’s been good for the place. Kids are all about the aesthetic these days.”

“Oh— Yes, that’s … good,” Grayson said, the words coming haltingly. He scratched the back of his neck. The front door opened then, new customers coming in.

“Well, it was good to meet you man, but I better get going,” Mateo said, gesturing to the customers.

“Yeah, of course. Me, too.” Grayson paused, glancing over to where Charles was sitting with such ease among his friends. “Hey, we should … um, get drinks sometime,” Grayson said, forcing the words out before he could think twice.

“Yeah, definitely,” Mateo replied, expression warm. “See ya.”

Mateo left, and Grayson felt proud. He might not have any friends, but he could still make some. He turned back to Charles to let him know he was leaving, feeling quite pleased with himself. The men had already begun a game of poker, their expressions laser focused.

“All right, Charles, better get going,” Grayson said, touching Charles’s shoulder. “Need to get back to the shop.”

“Yeah, you go on,” Charles said, not looking up from his cards. But at Grayson’s words, William looked up.

“The shop!” William said, as if suddenly remembering. “How’s our Lucy-Lu doing?”

Their card game promptly stopped, each man’s attention turning to Grayson.

“Yes, how is Lucy? How could we forget to ask!”

“Where has that girl been?”

“Tell her we miss her!”

Any happiness Grayson had previously been feeling disappeared. Everyone in this small town seemed to be obsessed with Lucy, and she with them. She knew more than half the people who entered their store and was constantly running out to give little baked treats to people on the street.

“Yes, she’s … well,” Grayson said, voice flat.

Charles laughed. “She and Grayson are constantly redecorating the bookstore,” he said.

“That’s our Lucy,” William said, smiling fondly, entirely ignoring Grayson’s part of Charles’s statement.

“Tell that girl to come see us soon,” Francisco scolded Charles. “You keep her all to yourself!”

“All right, all right,” Charles said.

“Hey, speaking of girls—do you have a girl back home, Grayson?” Michael asked, eyes curious.