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What the hell?
I shook it off as best I could. Jesse was an important man with important clients. I wasn’t the only one he had to tend to. Maybe this phone call was important. Too important to waste the precious seconds it would take to plant a kiss on my forehead.
I turned off the TV and ate my eggs Benedict in silence. There was nothing good to watch this early in the morning, anyways.
* * *
The second time I noticed it, it was just after dinner. He’d spent the whole day locked in his home office.
Not literally. The door was open by a couple of inches. Probably so that he could hear me if I called for help, but he didn’t reemerge from his phone call earlier that morning.
Jesse had given me a number to call to order food. There was a system, apparently. I could order whatever I wanted through the security firm. The food would be picked up by an employee at Pegasus Star, who would then in turn deliver it to the safehouse. This way my location would remain anonymous to outside parties.
I ordered a pizza with extra cheese, pineapple, and banana peppers. A weird combination, but downright delicious. It was my go-to combo during my first year of college. Inexpensive. Filling. And a great conversation starter. It helped me weed out the weirdos who were too snooty to like pineapple on their slices.
I approached Jesse’s office with a piece of pizza on a plate. I doubted he’d accept it with him being a health nut and all, but I wanted to offer it to him all the same. The low murmur of his voice reached my ear as I drew closer. He wasn’t speaking English, but Spanish.
“Déjame saber cuando puedes.Gracias, Roberto.”
I poked my head in, transfixed with the lilt of the language rolling off his tongue. “I didn’t know you knew another language.”
Jesse didn’t look up at me, distracted by whatever he was reading on his computer. I wasn’t sure why it annoyed me so much. “It comes in handy sometimes.”
“Where’d you learn to speak it?”
“School.”
“Oh? That’s all?”
“Practiced it with one of my neighbors growing up, too. I think that helped.”
“What was your neighbor’s name?”
“Marco. He lived in the next trailer over.”
I raised my eyebrows, curiosity hitting an all-time high. “You grew up in a trailer?”
Jesse finally glanced at me, looking very much like I said the wrong thing. “Yes. In a trailer park just outside of Austin.”
I grinned. “You’re originally from Texas?”
“Is that so surprising?”
“I don’t know. Don’t Texans have a drawl?”
“Trained myself not to.”
I tilted my head. “Why?”
Jesse shrugged. “Just because.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek as the silence lengthened. “Hey, Jesse?”
“Hm?”
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No.”
