“The loan. What’s it for?” Ford asks, cutting into his chicken breast.
“He’s redoing The Gold Room. Wanting to make it less . . .”
“Seedy?” Lincoln offers, taking another bite of his burger. “No offense.”
“None taken. It’s really just basic things that should’ve been done decades ago. Paint. New flooring. New seal on the roof. Things like that.”
“How long has he owned that place?” Ford asks.
“A while.” I pick up a fry and drop it. They’re using forks for fries. Shoving my hands under the table, I feel my face flush. “Nate got into it originally for a fuck fest, I think. Then he got married for a few years and they had Ryder. Now it’s just the two of them, he’s seeing things a little different.”
“Kids will do that to you,” Lincoln nods.
“You know,” Ford says, taking a sip of his water, “I know a guy that does flooring that’s affordable. The guy was in the service with me, but is damn smart, hard worker, and is just getting started. I could hook you up if you are interested. No pressure.”
“That’d be great,” I say, feeling thrown off-balance. “Thanks.”
Lincoln takes another bite. “What’s Troy’s brother do, Ford?”
“Yeah. Travis is a roofer, I think. I’ll ask and send that to you too if it would help.”
Camilla beams, the smile on her face the widest I’ve ever seen it. “I love this, you guys.”
“What?” Lincoln asks.
“Not you talking with your mouthful,” Cam groans. “Mom would kill you right now.”
“Mom’s not here.”
Cam rolls her eyes. “You’re disgusting.”
He makes a point of swallowing, much to Camilla’s disgust, before looking at me. “Tell us about yourself, Dom.”
“Dom?” Cam laughs.
“You call him that.”
“I’m also having se—”
“Easy,” Ford warns, making us all laugh. “We don’t hate him now. Don’t push your luck.”
The table bursts with laughter, Camilla leaning her head on my shoulder. I lay my arm along the back of her chair. My tattoos peek out from beneath the rolled-up sleeves of my shirt, the edge of a cross that I had inked to remember Joey visible.
Something about the moment stills time. The voices around me are muffled as I feel trapped somehow in this weird spot mentally—thinking about Joey, how he had Nate’s laugh and our mother’s need to please everyone. If he were an adult, I wonder how he’d fit in this situation. Probably better than me.
I look up to see two women sitting at the table across the aisle from us. They’re decked out in bright dresses and huge, tacky necklaces. They smile politely at Ford, and I wait for them to also look my way. I hope they don’t.
Their smiles falter, slipping from their faces when they see me with Camilla. It’s almost a look of horror before they recover when Cam sits up, posture perfect, and addresses them.
“Good afternoon, Paulina. Raquel. How are you this afternoon?” she says, going into what I call pageant mode. It’s so not the Camilla I know. And it’s not one I particularly like.
“So, back to this thing about your brother calling me a dick . . .” Lincoln’s words draw my attention away from his sister. When I look at him, he’s grinning. “Tell him I paid for the entire bottle of Patrón and we only drank half. He owes me.”
Camilla
THE ROAR OF THE ENGINE is the only sound I hear as Dom’s car takes the curves leading back to my house. It’s been a quiet ride since we left Hillary’s House, neither of us saying much.
It’s a lot to process. For both of us.