Page 49 of Star Crossed
“Are you sure Conner was a light heavyweight?”
“I’m sure.”
Tino shook his head. “He’s almost as big as you. Two thirty at least.”
“I’ve seen old footage of him fighting; he’s gained weight since then. A lot of weight,” Romeo had to reluctantly admit. “He probably stayed smaller when he was fighting professionally to be in a different weight class than Clay. Christ, that had to have sucked.”
“But you want me to do it,” Tino said drily. “Anyway, I could take Conner. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
Romeo stopped at the stop sign and turned to give Tino a look. His confidence was scary, even if it was well deserved. Tino was an amazing fighter, and he’d been Romeo’s primary training partner for three years because of it. The problem was other fighters had just as much reason to be confident, and Romeo didn’t think Tino fully grasped that yet. What it was like to be in a cage with a guy whose only obstacle between fortune and glory was you.
“Look”—Tino pointed out the window—“we made it.”
Romeo tilted his head, looking past the windshield to the green-and-white sign on the side of the road.
GARNET CITY LIMIT
POPULATION 3145
“There’s bullet holes in that sign,” Tino observed drily.
“There are,” Romeo agreed, staring at the dents and holes in the green metal. “Those are bullet holes, no question.”
“They shot their own friggin’ sign.” Tino turned to arch an eyebrow at Romeo. “What the hell are they gonna do to us?”
* * * *
Jules’s office building was actually an old, renovated house one block over from the sheriff’s office. Her workspace took up the entire downstairs floor, but the upstairs had been converted into two fully furnished apartments she rented out. One room went to her assistant Alaine, the other to Jesus Garcia, affectionately known to his friends as “Chuito” and to his fans as “The Slayer.”
Chuito was Clay’s pet project that he picked up in Miami three years before. Now at twenty-three, with a successful career as a UFC light heavyweight, Chuito could afford something much bigger and nicer than one of the upstairs apartments above Jules’s office, but he stuck around for some reason, and Jules really couldn’t complain. He was naturally handy and could fix anything from the kitchen sink to her transmission. He mowed the lawn during the warm months and shoveled the driveway all winter. He also spoke Spanish, and every once in a while in a law office, even one in the backwoods of Garnet, having someone who could translate was a huge benefit.
“Sí, no habla español,” Jules said into the phone and then waved at Alaine. She cupped her hand over the receiver and whispered, “Where’s Chuito?”
Alaine looked at her watch. “It’s not noon yet. He’s probably still sleeping.”
“Get his ass up! Now!” Jules said, pointing to the staircase, and then turned her attention back to the phone. “Un momento.”
Two semesters of Spanish in college thirteen years ago was not enough to properly handle a phone call from Colombia about a possible adoption for Maria and Gary Handover, who’d been laying the groundwork to bring home Maria’s sister’s baby. Her sister’s husband had died, leaving his widow unable to support all three of her children. It wasn’t Jules’s specialty by any stretch of the imagination, but being the only lawyer for two towns meant she handled all sorts of different things.
After several long minutes Chuito came stumbling down the stairs with his short, dark hair still mussed from sleep. He wore only a pair of jeans that hung low on his hips, showing off the wordSlayertattooed over the deep ridges of his stomach muscles in thick, black, Old English letters.
Chuito rubbed a hand over his face as he walked up to Jules’s desk. “Okay, what is it you need me to say?”
“They called me.” Jules shrugged. “It’s got to be ’bout that adoption I’m working on for the Handovers.”
Chuito took the phone, speaking Spanish before he looked to her. “They got your request, and they’re just calling with a list of requirements.”
Jules fell into her seat and rolled up to the computer. “Give ’em to me.”
Translating all the information took a while, and Alaine brought Chuito a cup of coffee, placing it on Jules’s desk next to where he stood. Chuito said something into the phone and then placed his hand over the receiver to grin at Alaine. “Gracias.”
Alaine shrugged, looking pleased. “De nada.”
“Ah.” Chuito’s smile grew broader. “I see I’m starting to leave an impression. It only took three years.”
“Aren’t you on the phone?” Jules said, looking pointedly at the receiver in his hand.
Chuito went back to the conversation, and by the time he was done, Jules had a fresh new to-do list for the Handover case. She was still working on it as Chuito stood there sipping his coffee.
