“Whoa, girlfriends.” Shanice jumped in. “Obviously, Grace is doing a great job or the guy wouldn’t make such a generous offer to keep her working for him.” She looked at Grace. “What I want to know is what else is going on here.” She raised her brows. “Come on, girl. Give.”
Grace shook her head. “Nothing is going on.”
“Have you prayed about it?”
“Constantly. I’m still praying.” Grace looked at the three. “It seems to be a gift from God, or am I just desperate to find any way to be on my own again? It solves one problem, but creates another.”
Nicole spoke up. “It would give you a big boost on the financial side.”
“And save you all that time on the road,” Ashley agreed.
Grace wavered. “What about Samuel?”
Shanice put a hand over Grace’s. “Selah and Ruben could keep him weekdays, until you can find childcare nearby. And you’d have him all to yourself on the weekends. Maybe this is the step toward independence you’ve been looking for.”
“You could take online classes,” Ashley added. “It’s been a while since you’ve had the time or money to go back to school. Instead of three hours a day on the road, you’d have three hours of study time.”
Grace fought tears. She looked at Samuel asleep in her arms. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to make any more mistakes.”
Shanice’s dark eyes grew moist. “You’ve had more than your share of heartache, honey, but sometimes what looks like a gift is a gift.”
“I just want to be sure I’m not setting myself up for more trouble. If you all wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to come up and see the place, and meet Roman Velasco. I want your impressions of the man before I give him any kind of answer.”
Grace told Roman Monday morning that she’d consulted three friends. “They’re free Saturday morning, if that’s convenient for you. We won’t take up much of your time.”
His mouth tipped. “You mean they’re checking me out, making sure I’m not some wolf after a lamb.” He waited, leaving her with the feeling she should say something. But what? She couldn’t pretend she trusted him. She barely knew the man, and her instincts had failed her before. Everyone had seemed to know what sort of man Patrick was. How had she been so blind? She’d been enamored by his looks and popularity in the beginning. Later, she wanted to believe what he said. She’d overlooked warning signs and plunged ahead, convincing herself she loved him. The truth was a cold slap in her face, and he hadn’t tried to soften the blow.
“Okay, Ms. Moore.” Velasco’s expression grew wry. “I guess a girl can’t be too careful these days, right? Are you still going on those interviews?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t expect me to wish you good luck.” Annoyed, he entered his studio.
On Wednesday, Grace prayed all the way to the first interview, in a downtown office building. God, if You’re the one bringing all this about, please give me a clear message. I’d be right next door to Roman Velasco. He’d be boss, landlord, and neighbor. He’s deep water, Lord, and I’m a lousy swimmer.
The receptionist gave Grace forms to fill out. She sat in a waiting room with half a dozen other women coated in confidence, several with leather briefcases, wearing designer suits and three-inch heels. When Grace’s turn came, the gentleman shook her hand and sat facing her from behind his polished mahogany desk. He’d already perused her application and references. He was polite. The interview lasted six minutes. He thanked her for coming in and wished her well.
As she walked back to her car, her phone alerted her that she’d missed a call. The message said her Friday interview was canceled, the position filled.
Grace brought Samuel with her on Saturday morning. Roman Velasco’s driveway was hard to spot, so she stopped and waited just off the road, where Shanice would be sure to see her car. A few minutes before they were due to arrive, Shanice’s yellow Volvo roared around the curve. Grace honked. Shanice’s brakes squealed as she turned onto the macadam drive. Grace led the way around the giant valley oak and along the curve down to the main house.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, Grace saw her friends gaping at Roman Velasco’s modern beige stone house, a fortress tucked against the hillside. Square cement pavers floated in a sea of black pebbles up to heavy, carved wooden double doors, where blue-green, pink, and mauve rosettes of echeveria and spiked agave spilled over two large terra-cotta pots. Instead of staying on the gravel circle, she took the short drive to the right and pulled in close to the cottage.
Shanice parked behind Grace and got out of her car. “Thanks for watching for us. I would’ve missed the driveway if Ashley hadn’t spotted your car.”
“I know. I missed it three times my first day of work.” Grace unlatched Samuel’s car seat from its base. Still half-asleep, he sucked his thumb as she led the trio along the pathway to the front of the house. A stone wall curved around the paver patio, complete with fire pit. Ashley and Nicole paused to comment on the gorgeous view of the canyon while Shanice took Samuel’s carrier so Grace could dig into her pocket for the key Roman had given her.
As soon as Grace walked in, she knew she was in deep trouble. Shanice followed closely behind and gasped.
The living room alone was bigger than the apartment Grace had shared with Patrick. The kitchen was small, but efficient, everything state-of-the-art. Rather than linoleum, the floor was expensive cream-colored travertine. Grace stood rooted in shock. Swooning, Ashley and Nicole pushed past her and went exploring.
“Oh, wow!” Ashley cried out. “Come look at the bedroom!” Numb, Grace followed and stared. A California king-size bedroom set would fit easily, if she had one. Her twin bed and nightstand would be lost in here. One door opened into a walk-in closet bigger than her bedroom at the Garcia home.
“Wait until you see the bathroom!” Ashley laughed in wonder.
Grace admired the yellow-and-white marble floor and counter, two white porcelain sinks with shiny chrome fixtures, a Jacuzzi tub big enough for two.
Nicole stepped into the small hideaway lavatory and flushed the toilet. She squealed with delight. “It’s an integrated toilet and bidet!”
Ashley opened a shower door. “There’s a rainfall showerhead and jets in the walls!”
“And you’re wondering if you should move in?” Nicole laughed. “This place is fantastic!”
“Tone it down, girls.” Shanice spoke with less enthusiasm. “We’ve yet to meet the commander of the fortress.”
Roman debated whether to wear his usual jeans and T-shirt or put on more formal slacks and tuck in a button-down shirt, but knew Grace would be immediately suspicious. So, he cranked up his usual style with black jeans and a navy-blue polo, front tucked in behind a brass anchor buckle. He raked his hands through his hair. Maybe he should’ve shaved, but he didn’t want to look like this meeting was the biggest event of his weekend. Even if it was.
Why should this girl’s opinion matter to him?
Because she had class, and having her around reminded him how far he had come up in the world. Unlike other women, who just wanted to drag him back down again.
Roman saw the cars arrive from an upper window, but waited another twenty minutes before strolling the paver walkway between the main house and the cottage. If she accepted his offer, she’d be living less than a thousand feet away. He wouldn’t be entirely alone out here, not that it had bothered him all that much until now.
The front door stood open, and women’s happy, excited voices drifted out. Unfortunately, Grace’s wasn’t one of them. He knocked on the doorjamb to announce his presence. Grace appeared, her expression enigmatic. “We were just looking around.”
“I know.”
She stepped aside so Roman could enter and introduced him to her three friends. Strawberry-blonde Ashley O’Toole stared at him with wide blue eyes. Nicole Torres shook his hand firmly. Shanice Tyson looked closer to the kind of girl he understood. Experienced, tough, street-smart, even
if she was wearing designer clothes. She held a baby on her hip and gave him a polite, if somewhat cool, nod. He caught the wind of distrust blowing from her direction, the alpha female he’d have to win over.
He extended his hand to Shanice first and looked her straight in the eye. “It’s good to know Ms. Moore has friends who look out for her.” He included the other two women with a glance. Grace stood by, watchful, noncommittal. She wasn’t going to be rushed into any decision, not this girl. Roman told her he was on his way out for the afternoon—a lie, but good for a quick exit. “I’ll leave you all to discuss the pros and cons.”
Grace walked him out the door. “It’s far more than I expected.”
“It’s just standing here, empty.” Would that be enough to silence any further doubts? “It’s yours if you want it.”
“I still need to think about it.”
What had her so worried? “Talk it over with your friends. I want you to feel comfortable with your decision.” Comfortable enough to move in, anyway. “I’ll see you Monday morning, Ms. Moore.”
Roman walked along the path to the main house. He could feel her gaze fixed on him, but didn’t look back. He recognized defensive walls when he saw them. He had them, too. He’d give her the same space and courtesy he wanted. For now.
On edge, he decided to turn the lie into truth and went for a long drive. He needed to clear his head. Or put something else in it besides curious thoughts about his personal assistant, where she came from, and what made her tick.
Grace and her friends talked it over.
Ashley giggled. “I can understand the temptation. How do you concentrate on work around a man like that?” She fanned herself.
“He’s in his studio. I’m in the office.”
Nicole, more practical, offered advice. “If you have a written agreement, you’ll be all right. That way, he can’t change the rules. I can have one ready for you by church tomorrow.”
Shanice jumped in. “Obviously, Grace has reservations or she wouldn’t have invited us up here to see the place and meet Velasco. Now that we’ve seen him, we know why.” She nodded. “He looks like a player.”
“Just because he’s handsome?” Ashley came to Roman’s defense. “Have you seen him in a club?”
“I haven’t been to a club for over a year, Ashley, and you know why.”
“He seemed polite enough. We shouldn’t judge,” Nicole remarked.
Shanice gave her a steely-eyed look.
“He didn’t give any indication that he’s putting the moves on Grace. He called her Ms. Moore.” Ashley sounded annoyed.
Shanice raised a brow at Grace. “Any instincts about the guy when you’re alone with him? Any vibes?”
“No. He made a point of telling me I’m not his type.”
“Okay.” Nicole spread her hands. “So, I’ll ask the obvious question. What’s the problem?”
Grace had to think about it. “Once I’m in, it’ll be hard to get out.”
Shanice ran her hand over Samuel’s head and looked at Grace. “Are you talking about the house or the job?”
“Both.” Grace took Samuel. “I don’t want to do anything stupid.” She glanced around the cottage, and temptation gripped her. She’d never be able to afford a place like this. She’d be lucky to find a one-room flat, and what sort of life would that be for Samuel?
“You like the place, don’t you?” Shanice asked.
“Who wouldn’t?”
Nicole let out her breath. “Roman Velasco offered you this place for free. Right? You could offer him the same rent you paid on the apartment in Westwood. Paying Velasco rent will keep this a business transaction. You won’t be vulnerable. You needn’t feel obligated in any way.”
Grace kissed Samuel’s warm, rosy cheeks. “I wouldn’t see my son Monday through Thursday.”
“But you’d have him Friday night through Sunday,” Ashley reasoned. “Without Selah. And once you find childcare, you could have him with you whenever you’re not working. I’m sure there are other children up here in the canyon.”
“Probably with nannies,” Shanice put in. She touched Grace’s arm. “Are you worried about Selah and Ruben? The arrangement was always supposed to be temporary.”
“She’s become very attached.”
“So have I.” Shanice tickled his chin and got a giggle. “You know I’d take you both in, if I didn’t already have a roommate.”
“I’d kill for a place like this.” Nicole sighed. “And think about the other advantages. The time you’ll save commuting. Time you can use for online classes. The more education you have, the better your opportunities. If this job doesn’t work out.” Her cell phone chimed. She dug it from her purse and checked the text. “It’s Charles.”
Shanice glanced at her phone. “Time to head back, girls.” She blew a raspberry against Samuel’s neck. “See you, snookums.” She kissed Grace’s cheek. “This place looks like a gift from the Lord, honey. I think you can handle Velasco.”
Ashley brightened. “I have an idea! Instead of going to the café next Sunday for our get-together, why don’t we each bring something up here?” She looked at Grace. “What do you say?”
“Make it two weeks. I have to move in first.”
Grace waved as Shanice backed out, picked up speed on the gravel turn, and shot up the driveway. Shaking her head, Grace smiled. Her friend had a lead foot and good reflexes.
Grace changed Samuel’s diaper before she settled him into the car seat. He’d be asleep before she reached the road.
With the increase in salary and a nice place to live, she’d be able to make plans. She could afford childcare. She could take online courses toward her degree. Nicole was right. She would have extra hours for study. She had done well enough in high school to earn a scholarship to UCLA. Her goals had gotten derailed when she ran into Patrick Moore.
Glancing toward the main house, she wondered if Roman Velasco was still at home, but decided it would be better to wait until Monday before saying anything.
GRACE, AGE 20
A shock wave coursed through Grace as she caught a glimpse of what might lie ahead. Patrick had been benched from the football team due to an injury. She tried to bolster his spirits, but he was bitter. She’d come home from classes today and found him watching television. When she asked why he wasn’t at practice, he said he’d quit the team. He wasn’t going to suffer in practice for a team that had no intention of using him.
Grace assumed Patrick would use the extra time he now had to get a part-time job, especially now that he had forfeited his football scholarship. They’d just gotten married and were barely getting by with both their scholarships and her job at McDonald’s. When he made no effort to do so, their bills mounted. When she pleaded with him, he called her a nag.
After two months, he went to the campus employment office, but claimed they couldn’t find anything that suited him. Library or office jobs were for girls. Fast-food restaurants were for losers. Had he forgotten that’s what she was doing to support both of them?
He said he was working hard enough just to keep his head above water with his course load. He had conveniently forgotten that Grace had a heavier load than he did and was also working twenty-five hours a week. When he suggested she add more work hours until he could find a job, she reminded him she had to maintain her GPA to keep her scholarship. He accused her of being selfish, of caring more about school than her husband. Did she have any idea how difficult it was for him to do college-level work? Someday, he’d be the breadwinner. What sort of job could he get if he didn’t finish college?
The more Patrick talked, the guiltier Grace felt. School had never been easy for Patrick. She wanted to be supportive and encouraging. Wasn’t that what God said a wife should be? And, in truth, between school, work, and Patrick’s demands, she was exhausted. She didn’t know how long she could keep up with all of her responsibilities.
She tried to pray, but worried instead. Whose education mattered more?
His, she decided. With that in mind, she applied for a full-time clerical job at a public relations firm, praying that if God had other plans, the job would go to someone else. When they offered her the position, she saw it as a sign. She withdrew from UCLA, grieving in private, while wearing a smile for Patrick’s sake. He was grateful, of course, but it didn’t make their lives any easier. He had no intention of taking on any duties around the apartment, considering that women’s work.
So Grace would come home after a full day at the company to find Patrick lounging on the couch, watching sports on TV. He’d give her a kiss and tell her about his classes and what assignments he had to do. The apartment was always a mess, his books and papers strewn over the table.
She had to work out a tight schedule so she could get all the shopping, laundry, and cleaning done on one of her days off. She gave up going to church. It had always been a battle between them anyway. Patrick never went with her. He said church was a boring waste of time. Better if she used Sunday to prepare meals for the week ahead, packaging and stacking them in the freezer so all she had to do was warm them up when she came home from work. That left her evenings free to help Patrick with his studies. Often he was more interested in having sex than doing his course work. “We can come back to it.” He always fell asleep. Frustrated and worried, she’d get up and finish his work.
Halfway through junior year, Patrick informed Grace he’d changed his major from business administration to physical education. He figured it was a better fit for him. She thought he had a point. When he said he might need postgraduate work to get a really good job, she felt another shock wave of warning. She said that wasn’t part of their agreement. He smiled, kissed her, and said they’d talk about it when the time came for a decision.
There was one thing they had to talk about, though. Grace was pregnant. It wasn’t part of the plan, but she hoped it would help turn things around for them. There had to be some way to make it work. She’d always assumed they would start a family sooner or later.