Page 28 of Hale Yes
As I’m closing the door, I hear footsteps outside, and for a second, I’m worried he might have brought Ma with him. Until I hear Lehra’s voice.
“Hold the door, please!”
I swing it back open to see a pile of boxes moving toward me. Well, it’s actually Lehra carrying the boxes, but they’re stacked so high I can’t see her head.
“You look like a box monster,” I laugh, grabbing the top three as they begin to topple.
“Pshhht, more like a superhero. I want a cape with a big double B for Box Bitch.”
Her husband, who’s right behind her, lets out a soft growl. “Fuck yeah. And one of those skintight outfits to go along with it.” She giggles, and I’m pretty sure superhero sex has just been added to their rotating list of role-playing antics.
Cruz is also carrying a huge load of boxes, but he seems to be handling his stack better than his wife. The man is built like a brick shithouse.
“Just set them down over here,” I say, leading them to the already packed boxes I’ve been working on in the living room. “My dad just arrived to surprise me with dinner.”
“Oh, gosh. We can leave,” Lehra frets, setting down her load and brushing away a damp blonde curl that’s stuck to her cheek. “We don’t want to intrude.”
“Nonsense,” my father’s voice comes from behind me. “If you like Cajun food, there’s plenty for everyone. I’m happy to meet some of Nicci’s friends.”
Ten minutes later, we’re seated around my oak dining table in the breakfast nook. Pop is scooping the beans and andouille sausage on top of beds of white rice in my pretty cobalt-blue bowls.
“You weren’t kidding about having plenty,” Cruz comments, and Pop adds another scoop to his bowl before handing it over.
“Here ya go, big guy. You look like you can put away some groceries.”
“No lie,” Lehra comments, shooting a playful look at her husband. “Thank goodness both of us work so we can pay our dang grocery bill.”
Pop spoons crawfish in a savory sauce over thick chunks of garlic bread on small plates and passes them out too. “Where do you work now?” he asks my friends.
“We both work in the Bouvier building,” Lehra tells him. “I’m Auburn Bouvier’s personal assistant, and Cruz is head of security.” She smiles proudly at her husband. “He worked personal security and was on the Emergency Service Unit before that.”
“Like an EMT or paramedic?” Pop asks.
Cruz swallows the big bite in his mouth before explaining. “It’s like the SWAT detail for the city.”
He and my father chatter about interesting assignments Cruz has taken part in—the ones he can talk about anyway. I notice he leaves out the story about taking down the Cappitani crime family. I’m one of very few people who are privy to that particular tale that had unimaginable consequences for the Bouvier family.
After dinner, Cruz and Pop carry my already packed boxes out to the moving pod on my tiny front lawn while Lehra and I load my non-essentials into the boxes she and Cruz brought.
“What about the furniture?” Pop asks, wiping a layer of sweat from the side of his neck.
“I’m selling and donating it. The townhome I’m renting in Houston comes furnished, so that’s less I need to move.”
“Are you staying in a safe area?” my father asks, his eyebrows lowering over his green eyes.
I smile at his concern. “It’s in a nice area. The HR department at Hale sent me some listings and set me up with their realtor. Cruz helped me pick out a good neighborhood, and the realtor and property manager gave me a virtual tour.”
Pop sighs his relief. “Okay, good.” He reaches out a hand to shake Cruz’s. “Thank you for helping Nicci.”
“No problem,” he says, ringing an arm around my neck and rubbing his knuckles across my head. “She’s like the little sister I never wanted.”
“Stop it, you big ass,” I tell him, wrangling my way out of his hold with a laugh.
My dad chuckles. “Is there anything else I can do to help?”
I shake my head. “I think that’s about it. Thanks for the dinner and for the use of your muscles, Pop. You didn’t have to do all that.”
His eyes meet mine, and his smile fades. “Yes, baby, I did.”
