Page 32 of Freeing Ruby

Feeling more at ease, I come forward and join them in the living room. “I appreciate your support, Mr. McIntyre.”

“Please, call me Shane.”

I notice Shane is careful to keep his distance. He doesn’t offer to shake my hand, which I appreciate. “Well, I’ll be going now,” he says. “I just wanted to stop by, say hello, and assure you that we won’t let your father’s reaction derail our investigation.”

Miguel’s boss lets himself out—without making any comments about the number of locks on my door—and Miguel secures the door after he’s gone. I don’t even have to ask him to do it. He just knows.

Miguel turns to face me, and for a moment we just look at each other. I’m struck yet again by how handsome he is. I’m struck by the fact that he doesn’t seem to possess an ounce of vanity, even though he’d have every right to.

And then it dawns on me. I’ve never considered that fact that surely he has someone in his life. Someone that amazing would have to, and yet he’s stuck here with me twenty-four-seven. That’s not fair to him or to his partner. “If you need to leave for a while, go do something, or go see someone, it’s totally fine, you know.”

He looks confused. “I don’t need to go anywhere.”

“Don’t you have someone—like a girlfriend or, you know, someone—to go home to?”

He laughs. “Oh, no. There’s no one.”

I find that hard to believe. This guy must have women throwing themselves at him all the time. “There’s no one?” How’s that even possible? He’s—well, he’s pretty amazing.

Smiling, he shakes his head. “I have friends, yes. Lots of them. But I’m not dating anyone, if that’s what you mean. I work long hours. I don’t have time to meet women.” He laughs. “It’s a common problem in my line of work. We hardly get any free time. Several of my friends ended up falling in love with their clients, and now we joke that McIntyre Security is actually a dating service in disguise.”

“Your friends fell in love with their clients? Is that allowed?”

“Well, Shane can hardly get on his people for doing it when he did it himself. He fell in love with one of his clients, Beth, and married her. They have two young children now.” He looks thoughtful. “Speaking of my friends, I was wondering if I could invite a couple of them over for a visit. I thought you might like to meet another young woman your age. What do you say?”

The air leaves my lungs in a rush, and I feel lightheaded. “I don’t know. I’m not sure how I’d feel about having more strangers in my apartment.”

“You’re doing fine with me here, and I’m a stranger. Or at least I was. I’m not a stranger anymore, am I?”

“That’s different. You’re—” Before I can say another word, there’s a knock at the door. I automatically flinch.

“Miss Ruby,” says a muffled voice through the door. “It’s me, Leo. I’m here with your groceries.”

I start toward the door, but Miguel says, “I’ll get it.”

Miguel’s already walking to the door and peering out the peephole. Then he unlocks the door, opens it, and there’s Leo from Frank’s Market, holding two paper sacks of groceries in his arms.

Leo’s eyes widen in surprise when he sees Miguel, probably because he’s not used to seeing someone else in my apartment. He glances past Miguel until his gaze lands on me. “Miss Ruby, is everything okay?”

“Yes, fine,” I say.

Miguel takes the bags from Leo, who’s staring at him.

“It’s okay. Miguel’s a friend,” I tell him, hoping to reassure him that everything’s all right.

Leo finally breaks his stare and leaves. Miguel closes the door. I lock it as he carries the bags of groceries to the kitchen.

“Perfect timing on the groceries, right?” I say. “Now you can teach me to make authentic Mexican enchiladas.”

While Miguel empties the bags, I put the items where they go. In addition to the staples I ordered, I find corn tortillas, sweet corn, several varieties of dried chiles, as well as onions, garlic, tomatoes, cilantro, and a lime. The one thing I don’t see is a can of enchilada sauce.

“You’re making the sauce from scratch?” I ask, surprised.

He nods. “Of course. My grandma would box my ears if she found out I used canned enchilada sauce.” He turns on the faucet and washes his hands. “Now, watch and learn.”

Pumpkin hovers at my feet, meowing plaintively.

“I think someone’s hungry,” Miguel says, nodding at the cat.

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