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Nearly two hours later, I found my way to the kitchen. Thankfully, Consuela was in there, busy shearing potatoes. She peered up when sensing my presence. I needed to go, had a gamut of appointments starting with my therapist. Jas had left a half an hour ago, having to head to check in with his parole officer.
As I tried clasping my cufflink at my wrist, I smiled cheekily, hoping not to put this woman off with this. But I needed her help. “Morning.”
She smiled beautifully. “Buenos dias, Shi-Shi. You look amazing.”
Finally catching the clasp, I swung my arms in the air then smacked my thighs. “I brought my overnight bag this time. Makeup and things.”
Consuela shook her head. “You don’t need it. You’re beautiful and young. I remember those days.” She winked.
“So, speaking of those days…” I hesitated, but didn’t have time for coyness. I really had to go. “I need to replace his bed.”
Her eyes blossomed. “His bed?”
“Yeah. I kind of broke it this morning and after a bit of investigation, I don’t believe it was quality furniture to begin with. In fact, none of his bedroom fits the motif of the house.”
She laughed. “That’s because his bedroom was the only room Frankie didn’t have designed before he came home. He said he’d take care of it.”
I pointed over my shoulder. “That was taking care of it?”
She hummed she didn’t know. “Jas is a low-maintenance man. I just clean around him and let him be. Easiest job ever.”
“Does that mean you would be able to help me pick out a set? Like something suitable to his taste?”
“You’re suitable to his taste,” a small voice announced itself as Frankie turned the corner, carrying cloth shopping bags into the kitchen.
Consuela laughed silently, focusing on her shaving craft.
“Good morning.” I didn’t know what else to say to the Linda Hunt lookalike, the woman I now knew was Jas’ bank and partner.
“Hi, sweetie.” She dropped the bags onto the countertop nearly her height. Then Frankie smiled at me, not at all alarmed about seeing me in Jas’ kitchen at seven-thirty in the morning. “Didn’t catch much of it, but is it something I can help with?”
“Uhn-uhn,” Consuela answered, face to her handiwork. “Jas’ bed is broken. Shi-Shi wants to replace it.”
“Ohhh…” Frankie stiffly turned back to me, her whole body instead of just her neck. “Broken?” I nodded with a tight smile. “His big ass. I told him that bed wasn’t fitting for him, much less him and a woman.”
“Do you know if he has a particular furniture store he fancies? I hear you furnished this place. Do you have one?”
Frankie shook her head. “I hired a designer. That was many moons ago. I mailed him pictures as options and Jas approved what he liked over the phone. I have no clue where the designer shopped.”
I took a deep breath. “Okay,” I singsonged. “I have a place I like. Let’s just hope he does, too.” I pulled out my card loaded with my personal contact information and placed it on the counter then started toward one of the kitchen entrances. “My goal is to have it delivered today if they have something decent in stock. I guess I should arrange for some bedding, too.Shit,” I swore to myself.
“Someone will be here all day, whether it’s me or the boys,” Consuela’s heavy accent carried.
“Great. Have a wonderful day, ladies.” I waved as they returned the sentiment.
My day had just gotten longer.
“Still employed byRizzo’s Custom Homes & Developers?”
“I am,” I answered my parole officer, my attention on a familiar-looking face across the way in a holding cell.
His head was low and he kept twisting and turning, but couldn’t go far while cuffed.
Damn…
His ass was going back up.
“Paystub available?”
