Star-Crossed (18 page)

* * * *

Jules’s office building was actually an old, renovated house one block over from the sheriff’s office. Her workspace took up the entire downstairs floor, but the upstairs had been converted into two fully furnished apartments she rented out. One room went to her assistant Alaine, the other to Jesus Garcia, affectionately known to his friends as

“Chuito” and to his fans as “The Slayer.”

Chuito was Clay’s pet project that he picked up in Miami three years before. Now at twenty-three, with a successful career as a UFC light heavyweight, Chuito could afford something much bigger and nicer than one of the upstairs apartments above Jules’s office, but he stuck around for some reason, and Jules really couldn’t complain.

He was naturally handy and could fix anything from the kitchen sink to her

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transmission. He mowed the lawn during the warm months and shoveled the driveway all winter. He also spoke Spanish, and every once in a while in a law office, even one in the backwoods of Garnet, having someone who could translate was a huge benefit.

“
Sí, no habla español,
” Jules said into the phone and then waved at Alaine. She cupped her hand over the receiver and whispered, “Where’s Chuito?” Alaine looked at her watch. “It’s not noon yet. He’s probably still sleeping.”

“Get his ass up! Now!” Jules said, pointing to the staircase, and then turned her attention back to the phone. “
Un momento.
” Two semesters of Spanish in college thirteen years ago was not enough to properly handle a phone call from Colombia about a possible adoption for Maria and Gary Handover, who’d been laying the groundwork to bring home Maria’s sister’s baby. Her sister’s husband had died, leaving his widow unable to support all three of her children. It wasn’t Jules’s specialty by any stretch of the imagination, but being the only lawyer for two towns meant she handled all sorts of different things.

After several long minutes Chuito came stumbling down the stairs with his short, dark hair still mussed from sleep. He wore only a pair of jeans that hung low on his hips, showing off the word
Slayer
tattooed over the deep ridges of his stomach muscles in thick, black, Old English letters.

Chuito rubbed a hand over his face as he walked up to Jules’s desk. “Okay, what is it you need me to say?”

“They called me.” Jules shrugged. “It’s got to be ’bout that adoption I’m working on for the Handovers.”

Chuito took the phone, speaking Spanish before he looked to her. “They got your request, and they’re just calling with a list of requirements.” Jules fell into her seat and rolled up to the computer. “Give ’em to me.” 142

Translating all the information took a while, and Alaine brought Chuito a cup of coffee, placing it on Jules’s desk next to where he stood. Chuito said something into the phone and then placed his hand over the receiver to grin at Alaine. “
Gracias.
” Alaine shrugged, looking pleased. “
De nada.
”

“Ah.” Chuito’s smile grew broader. “I see I’m starting to leave an impression. It only took three years.”

“Aren’t you on the phone?” Jules said, looking pointedly at the receiver in his hand.

Chuito went back to the conversation, and by the time he was done, Jules had a fresh new to-do list for the Handover case. She was still working on it as Chuito stood there sipping his coffee.

“Go put clothes on,” Jules said without looking up from her computer. “You know you can’t be walking ’round half-naked. Her father would burn this office to the ground if he saw that. He’s already fit to be tied over you two living in the same building, and I ain’t even getting into your flirting. You got to stop that. You know that girl’s naive.”

“Maybe I’m naive too,” Chuito said in a low, playful voice.

Jules glanced up from the computer, giving Chuito an unimpressed look.

“What?” Chuito’s smile grew teasing and devious. “I could be innocent; you don’t know I’m not.”

“I know plenty. Now go put a shirt on. This is a place of business.” Chuito leaned down and got in her face. “You’re welcome, Jules.”

“Thank you, Chuito,” Jules said in a singsong voice. “If you get dressed, I’ll buy you lunch.”

“Sounds good to me.” Chuito turned with his coffee in hand and headed up the stairs.

Jules went back to work. The phone rang more than usual for a Monday, and it took her a few minutes to get to her cell phone when it buzzed on her desk. She picked

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it up, glancing at the picture on the screen and then frowning. Work had distracted her, and for a moment the wires felt crossed in her brain. She slid her finger across the screen to get a closer look.

Below a picture of the Garnet city limit sign was a text from Romeo.

Where’s the nearest restaurant? Starving.

Jules’s heart rate picked up because there in living color was something she’d been trying to deny knowledge of all morning. This was actually happening. Romeo was in Garnet, and Jules was in so much trouble.

She hadn’t just spent a night with him in Las Vegas. She’d spent nearly every night since then with him. His voice had been the last thing she’d heard before she closed her eyes to sleep for the past three months. Now there was no denying the obvious—she was in a relationship with this man.

And he was here.

Despite the problems it caused, she just wanted to see him again. To hold him. To feel those big arms wrapped around her. There were so many things she wanted to do with him—
to him
—and she’d been looking forward to this day for the past week when Romeo had finally cleared his schedule and given a date.

She texted Romeo an address and then stood up and screamed at the top of her lungs. “Chuito! If you wanna eat, you better be down here in three minutes!” Alaine stopped filing and turned to look at Jules in surprise. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Jules walked to the coatrack and grabbed her coat off a hanger. “Get your coat, darlin’. I’ll buy ya lunch.”

“Really?” Alaine perked up, her gaze darting to the ceiling as if she could see Chuito through it. “But—”

“Trust me, you two sitting in the same booth is the last thing this town is gonna be talking ’bout today. And if your preacher of a daddy don’t approve, who gives a shit?

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Chuito’s your friend, and I’m tired of telling you to hide it. We both got to learn to start living our lives the way we wanna live it.”

“Well, okay, then.” Alaine turned away from the file cabinet without a backward glance. “I’ll get my coat and make a sign.”

Alaine taped a handwritten sign on the door to the office stating what time they’d be back from lunch, and listed Jules’s cell number in case of emergency. Chuito barely made it past the closed door because Jules was determined to get where she was going and if Chuito’s free lunch was a casualty—oh well.

Once outside Jules pulled her keys out of her purse and then pushed the button to unlock her car doors.

“Can I drive?” Chuito asked as he zipped up his coat.

“Boy, you better stop fussing with that coat and get in the car,” Jules said as she used the reflection of the window to her Mercedes to fix her hair.

“I’m Puerto Rican. I need my coat zipped up in this weather. What’s the hurry? Is Hal’s running out of food?”

“Just get in the dang car.”

She slid into the driver’s side just as Alaine sat in the passenger seat next to her.

Jules pulled down the visor and put on lipstick while she waited for Chuito to get into the backseat. He wasn’t moving any faster despite Jules’s obvious impatience because Chuito had a hard time functioning before noon.

“You sure I can’t drive?” Chuito complained as he closed his door. “I feel like I’m gonna die when we let you behind the wheel.”

“That ain’t a lie.” Alaine smiled. “The only one worse is the sheriff. Maybe it’s a cop thing.”

“Or a Conner thing,” Chuito agreed. “Either way, I see my life flash before my eyes every time.”

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Jules put the Benz in reverse, her hand on Alaine’s headrest as she looked behind them for oncoming cars. When she saw the way was clear, she peeled out of the driveway. Chuito cursed, Alaine laughed, and Jules ignored both of them.

Making record time, she pulled up to Hal’s Diner, which was predictably busy for the lunch rush. A quick glance at the parking lot showed all the usual cars and regulars, so she took a moment to look in her rearview mirror and mess with her hair once more.

“That’s like the tenth time you’ve looked at your reflection in the past five minutes.” Chuito narrowed dark eyes at her as he leaned forward from his seat in the back and contemplated Jules. “Do you have a crush on me?” Jules reached over and pushed Chuito’s face away, making a huff of annoyance as she opened her door. She got out and brushed at her clothes—a black jacket, with a low-cut, gold undershirt and a shorter skirt than she usually wore, but it wasn’t like she’d bought it just for Romeo. It’d been hanging in her closet for over a year. The fact that it was her nicest, most expensive business suit was of little consequence.

Chuito got out of the car, studying Jules fussing with her outfit. “I was joking, but now you got me scared. You’re not really after me, are you?” Jules rolled her eyes. “No.”

“Thank God. That’d be like doing it with my mother.” There was so much wrong with that statement, Jules couldn’t help but hit him.

“Do I look old enough to be your mama?”

“No, it’s just a mental thing.” Chuito dodged Jules’s second hit, holding up his hands to protect himself in classic boxing fashion. Jules kicked him instead, the tip of her high heel connecting with his shin, and he jumped in response. “
Hijo de la gran puta!

Why are you attacking me? It’s a fucking compliment!”

“Then don’t compliment me anymore,” Jules snapped as she turned around to walk up the steps to Hal’s and shook her head. “Your mother.” 146

“Look at me.” Chuito gestured to himself as he dashed up the steps to stand next to Jules at the door. “I’m sexy. That didn’t come from nothing. My mother’s good-looking.”

“I think you should stop now,” Alaine offered. “She’s obviously in a mood ’bout something.”

Jules walked into the diner, which felt warm and cozy in comparison to the chill of outside. For some reason this diner smelled more like home to Jules than the house she’d grown up in, and it helped to calm her wild nerves.

“Hey, Jules,” Melody said as she walked past her with a tray in her hand. “Y’all are earlier than usual.”

“I reckon it’s good for Chuito to get up before noon every once in a while.”

“Shoot, I ain’t blaming him for sleeping in. I would too if Clay didn’t get up every morning with the chickens.” Melody laughed and pointed to the right side of the diner.

“Pick a seat.”

“Can we get the round booth by the window?” Jules asked with a wince as she helped herself to three menus. “I know it’s not your section.”

“I’m sure we can arrange something,” Melody said with a smile. “Be my guest.”

“Are we expecting someone?” Chuito asked curiously.

“It does feel like something exciting’s ’bout to happen,” Alaine agreed, looking enthusiastic about the prospect. “Good thing too, ’cause everyone’s looking at us. Far as I’m concerned, a distraction can show up anytime now.”

“I’ll sit next to Jules,” Chuito said, the good humor disappearing from his voice.

“No,” Alaine argued. “We’re allowed to be friends. We’re at lunch together for once. You can sit next to me.”

Chuito didn’t complain, but he did seem very aware of the eyes on them as he slid into the booth, settling between Jules and Alaine as if being next to both of them made

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the sin a little less noticeable. He put a hand to his forehead, looking out the window and mumbling, “Why’d I agree to this?”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table before Alaine finally whispered, “I don’t care what he thinks, ya know?”

“But I do.” Chuito sighed.

Alaine dipped her head, hiding behind a curtain of strawberry-blonde hair as she reviewed the menu. Pale anyway, the freckles on her nose stood out more starkly than usual, and Chuito studied her for one long moment before he turned back to the window again. Then he frowned, leaning in closer with his gaze trained on the parking lot.

Jules knew what he was looking at, and rather than press her face against the glass like a lovesick fool, she observed the other patrons of Hal’s Diner. The wave of curiosity was a tangible pulse that resonated through the restaurant, starting with the people sitting closest to the windows and spreading outward until everyone’s gaze was not so subtly on the parking lot.

The temptation was too much to resist. Jules leaned into Chuito just in time to see Romeo crawl out of the hottest car that had ever graced the fine roads of Garnet County. That black Ferrari stood out like a sore thumb, and Jules realized everyone had been looking at the car until that moment. Now the not so subtle looking turned into full-out shock; the murmur of curiosity was brash and obvious.

“Holy shit.” Chuito glanced at Jules and then back to the parking lot as he shook his head and then said under his breath, “
Ahora si se va poner bueno la casa.
”

“What?” Jules said defensively, though she couldn’t look away from Romeo.

“Nothing,” Chuito said with a small laugh of disbelief. “I got nothing to say about anything.”