Page 81 of The Protégé

“I do?”

“Yes, you do. You feel the pressure, you see the problem, you find a solution, and you move toward it. Most people get stuck in one place.”

I thought about his comment. “I analyze, but I don’t spend days lingering on the issues. Mostly because they don’t solve themselves.”

“I’ve learned a lot from you.”

“Are you keeping Salon Oasis or selling it?” I asked.

“Not sure yet. What’s gotten you stressed?”

“Channel Seven News fired me.” I briefed him on it.

“It had to be Chantel,” he huffed. “If she ever comes into my salon, I’m turning her hair pink. Use this time to find a new job. At least you’re working for Slingshot. Are you dating him yet?”

“No.” But I imagined what it would be like to be his girlfriend.

“You’re his fake girlfriend, remember? This could be a fun thing to continue.”

I had forgotten. “It was a temporary thing during a crisis moment, Elliot. That event is over and there’s no need to pretend anymore.”

“Did he say that?” Elliot inquired.

I could imagine the wheels turning in his head. He was always coming up with creative plans to find me the perfect man.

“No.” I remembered Orion’s comment. “Actually, he said to keep pretending so men won’t bother me.”

“See?” Excitement filled his voice. “He wants you. I think this fake dating thing could be exciting. Have fun! Explore! You’ve got no limits. Show Slingshot how to step outside of his comfortzone. He’s got those immaculate looks, so your job is to get him dirty.”

I laughed. “Maybe.”

Would Orion agree to get dirty for me? I tried to imagine him covered in dirt and couldn’t. Plus he was still wearing the ring on his necklace...

“Gotta go now, darling. We’re heading to a party. Talk soon.Ciao!”

I tucked my phone into my purse and drove to Mona’s Café. I found parking along the street, got out, and glanced around. The café was in the corner of a residential area with a community park that was well cared for. It had changed so much since high school. More shops had crowded the retail strip.

I entered the small café and inhaled the lovely aroma. A bench had been added for extra seating by the window. Two customers were at the counter paying for something. I walked up and glanced at the pastry assortment, and my mouth watered. There was no way I’d leave this place without buying something.

They had everything my grandmother used to make. I used to lovepicarones,which were sweet, dripping donuts.

When the two customers left, I smiled at the sales associate. The woman wearing a pink apron had curly hair and a friendly face. “How can I help you?”

I pointed to the display case. “I’d like twopicarones, twoalfajores, and onepionono, please.”

“Where are you from?” she asked. “You grew up in America?”

“I was born here. My grandmother was from Peru. She used to make these. But she’s not with us anymore.”

“Life is too short. Enjoy it while you can.”

“I agree. I had a friend who used to come in here often. Do you know him? Pablo.”

She studied me for a moment as sadness washed over her face. “Yes. He was a regular at the shop. Traveled a lot though. It’s sad what happened to him. We’ll miss him.”

I nodded. “The police haven’t caught the murderer yet. They’re taking a long time.”

“They always do.” She rubbed her thumb and finger together. “If you want results, you need to know someone. Or have money or pay for a private investigator.”

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