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John:My guy looked into that doctor for you. Public records show a number of civil cases he filed and dropped.
John:One big ass red flag: restraining order filed by an ex a couple years back after a domestic dispute.
John:Take as much time as you need with your friend. The job will be here when you’re ready.
Me:Thank you, sir. I appreciate it. I’ll touch base on Friday.
John:Sounds good.
Before I can put my phone away, another message pops up, and the name makes me growl in my throat.
Javier:How’s dad? He’s still staying with Julia?
Me:Yes. I’m with him now. He’s fine. Medication has him pretty knocked out.
Javier:Nice. Say hi to Jules for me.
Me:Say hi yourself, I’m busy.
9
Julia
As bad as my day started, it’s almost completely turned around now. Sure, I have to remind myself every thirty-two seconds that Mateo is off-limits, but hanging out and watching old movies with him, I can almost pretend that we’re kids again.
I’m feeling significantly more charitable toward Mateo as the sun sets. As much as I hate to admit it, I do feel safer knowing I won’t be alone if Grimaldi turns up again. I could probably take him, but it’s nice to know I wouldn’t have to.
Washing my hands, I glance up at the mirror. The last forty-eight hours have taken their toll on me. Dark circles shadow my eyes and I still look a little puffy from my crying jag this afternoon. I had hoped that once I got through the wedding and my bridesmaid duties were done, life would go back to normal. Ha.
My stomach rumbles as I dry my hands, and my mind strays to the uneaten lunch sitting in my fridge. Mateo is still sitting on the couch next to a conked-out Luis when I get back. He’s on his phone, rage typing a text, his jaw clenched. He glances up, his eyes stormy.
“You ok?” I ask.
“Fine,” he replies, pocketing his phone.
“… Okay. You just look kind of pissed… never mind. You want to wake up sleeping beauty here?” I gesture at Luis, who is currently drooling on the velvet cushion of my sofa. “He needs to eat something and take his Prednisone.”
Mateo nods, and I head to the kitchen. I dig the bag out of the fridge and peek at the contents. Clearly, Lilah packed my food with her current status of “eating for three” in mind. A stack of sandwiches is piled up next to two containers of soup, a couple bags of potato chips, a container of pasta salad, and, my favorite, a little lemon tart.
Best sister ever.
I heat the soup, grab some utensils and plates, and load everything up in the center of the table. The three of us sit at the table, eating quietly.
Luis manages to get the food into his mouth (barely), but as soon as he finishes a sandwich and takes his meds, he gets to his feet declaring he’s going back to bed. He pats Mateo on the shoulder and kisses the top of my head before heading down the hall.
“Be good, you two. Stay out of the liquor cabinet,” he says before shutting the door.
I grin at Mateo. That was Luis’ standard good night speech when we were in high school, too. “Is he under the impression that ever worked?”
“I doubt it. I don’t think we were very sneaky.”
“Speak for yourself. Remember that time I steamed the paper wrapper of the top of the peppermint schnapps and re-glued it?”
Mateo’s lips pull up on one side. “Oh, I forgot what a master badass you were with the boozy hot cocoa.”
I stick my tongue out at him as I reach for the lemon tart, setting it between us and digging into with my fork. “You’re such a smart ass. You drank two cups of that cocoa and kareoke’d that Ed Sheeran song with Lukas.”
“Um, no.” Mateo points his fork at me. “You’ve got your facts wrong. I drankonecup of that cocoa and then Lukas and I chased it with multiple shots of tequila. So you can blame Jose Cuervo for your damaged eardrums.” He cuts a massive wedge out of the tart and pops it between his lips in one bite.
