Page 33 of Challenged By You
“Much better. She said if I saw you down here to thank you again for the soup. She said it was delicious.”
“Does she need any more?”
“Nah. She knew I was coming down with some friends.”
I lift my pointer finger and scold him much the same way I imagine Carlita Alvarez would admonish her oldest grandchild. “Don’t you boys be getting into trouble. Not if you want me putting in a good word with my employer for any of you.”
Abashed, he changes from a borderline punk to what he is, a seventeen-year-old with no focus. “Yes, ma’am.”
“The same goes for your so-called friends. I just saw one of them almost knock over Mr. Paul. The poor man can hardly see where he’s going, Luis.” My voice is laced with exasperation.
“Right,” he mumbles.
“Listen.” I lay a hand on his arm briefly before letting it drop. “You can be a leader or a follower. Either way you’re going to get what you deserve. What do you want?”
“That sounds like a challenge, Ms. P.”
“She’s good at them,” Jonas pipes in. His eyes are kind of scary right now. “Make sure you’re the kind of man up to accepting them.”
That seems to penetrate. Luis slaps Jonas on the back and winks at me before putting his big hand on Annie’s head and ruffling her hair. She giggles. He fist pumps Chris before dashing to catch up with his friends. But not, I note smugly, before he stops to have a quiet word with Mr. Paul.
The line surges forward again before Jonas speaks almost conversationally. “Do you realize your ‘friend’ is a member of a gang?”
“What on earth are you talking about? He’s just a young—”
Swinging me around, Jonas wraps an iron-hewn arm around my waist to pull me against him. “I like you, Trina. I don’t want to see this smart mouth displayed on the front page of my newspaper because you told a Neta how to behave. They don’t take too kindly to that.”
“Neta? He told me that was the name of his ex-girlfriend.”
Jonas passes a hand through my hair I pulled half up before leaning down to whisper in my ear, “T, that gang has been in the paper most often for being involved in organized crime around drugs. They’ve also been involved in a variety of other crimes including burglary, robbery, firearms, and trafficking. They were the subject of a federal racketeering investigation in New York City, involving attempted and actual murder, assaults, and a whole host of other things.” He hesitates before telling me the rest. “Rikers Island used to be called ‘Planet Neta’ since a branch of the gang resided in each building.”
“But Jonas—” I cling to his shirt as the line shunts forward again. “He’s just a boy. He’s Carlita’s grandson. He wouldn’t…” I leave the rest of my question unsaid. Because I really don’t want to know.
“And keep it on that level. Think of him at the crossroads of Luke and Vader.”
Jerking back, I yell, “You’re giving me aStar Warsanalogy?”
Behind me, a man mutters, “I don’t care what he gives you as long as we get closer to the front of the line. This is the only time I can get García’s. Line’s too damn long for me to wait on.”
Oops. “I’m so sorry.” We push the stroller ahead a few feet before Jonas begins talking again.
“Like I said, I’ve learned a lot about you I like this past week. I don’t want to see you taken out witha saltwith a deadly weapon.”
It takes me a moment before I burst out laughing. “Oh. My. God. You’re the one killing me—by using all these food puns!”
Guiding us to the edge of the tent, he scans the menu before murmuring in my ear, “I have a weakness for them. Julian finds the best ones and has them framed for me for my birthday, Christmas, any holiday he can make up.”
And knowing that little weakness about him warms my insides. As he scans the menu, I ask him, “How hot do you like things?”
His head twists to look down at me. Just as he’s about to open his mouth to say something that will likely make me want to punch him and turn my insides all gooey, I quickly warn him, “If you like your taste buds, don’t go extra spicy.”
Jonas throws me a wink. “Ah, so that’s what you meant.” Before I can cock my arm, he turns to order. “We’ll take two full specials. Not spicy. Four bottles of water, and do you have anything for kids?”
“Tortillas. Rice. You want both.”
Jonas frowns but orders two of each. I’m reaching in my wallet to pay him back when he singes me with a glare. Getting our food, he pulls out his wrap. “Is there a spot to eat?”
Spinning in place, I remark, “Good a place as any.”
