‘No,’ I shook my head. ‘One night. That’s it. We agreed.’
‘But, Alejandro –’
‘Alana!’
‘Alex!’ she snapped and I glared at her. She only ever called me Alex when we were alone and it felt like she had shared an intimate part of our relationship with this stranger sitting in our kitchen.
I narrowed my eyes at her, and then at Lucia, who was staring at me with her mouth half open and a spoonful of cereal suspended halfway between her face and the bowl.
‘Just what the fuck are you suggesting we do? Take her in? Just like that? You don’t know her, Alana.’
‘And you do?’ she snapped.
‘I know her family,’ I snarled and that seemed to snap Lucia from her daze.
‘Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,’ she yelled, causing Alana and I to turn our attention to her. ‘And I amnothinglike my family,’ she spat.
I put my coffee mug onto the counter. ‘You still haven’t told me exactly what it is you two want.’
Lucia shoveled a spoonful of cereal into her mouth so I looked at my wife instead.
‘Lucia doesn’t want to go back to the Bakers,’ she said.
‘That is not my fucking problem,’ I snapped.
‘I want her to stay with us, Alejandro,’ she added. ‘Lucia wants to apply for emancipation, but until she does, she’d like to stay here.’
‘What? That could take months.’
‘I know. But where else can she go?’ Alana pleaded.
I took a deep breath. Back to the Bakers. Anywhere but here! That was what I wanted to say, but I couldn’t look at Alana and say those things because she was doing that big brown eyes thing that made me weak at the knees.
I looked at Lucia instead. ‘Come with me,’ I snapped.
Lucia stood up obediently.
‘What? Where are you going?’ Alana asked as she took a step towards me.
‘I only want to talk to her. You want me to think about letting her stay here, then there are things I need to know.’
I walked out of the kitchen towards my office, with Lucia following close behind me.
A few moments later, I was sitting at my desk and Lucia was sitting opposite me. She glared at me defiantly. She was different around Alana – vulnerable and relaxed, and I wondered which one of those personas was an act. Perhaps they both were? Or maybe they were both real? I considered myself a good judge of character. I was skilled in the many ways of making people tell the truth, but often, I didn’t need to employ them. I could tell when someone was lying to me – at least I usually could.
‘My office is sound proof. Anything you say in here will be between you and me,’ I told her.
She nodded. ‘Okay.’
‘Why did you come to L.A?’
‘I already told you the truth. I wanted away from my rotten ex-boyfriend and far away from Chicago. L.A was the first bus leaving the station.’
‘Why did you target my wife?’
She frowned at me. ‘I didn’t target her. In case you hadn’t noticed, your wife is kind of a good person. She was nice to me. Seemed like she cared about me, and I hadn’t felt like that in a long time. I liked her before I even found out who she was.’
‘And when you did find out?’ I snapped.