Page 31 of Freeing Ruby

Avocados

Syrup

“Add whatever you need for the enchiladas to the list,” she says, “and anything else you want. I’ll place an order later this morning, and we’ll have it in time for dinner.”

I glance down once more at the tiny painting she’s working on. “I’d like to commission you for a painting.”

“Really? What would you like me to paint?”

“My grandma’s dog, Sugar. She’s a tiny long-haired Chihuahua—so small she fits in the palm of my hand. She’s the sweetest little dog I’ve ever known. She’s mi abuelita’s baby.”

“I’d be happy to. I just need a good photo of the dog.”

I pull out my phone and scroll through my camera roll until I find a good photo of Sugar.

Ruby studies the photo. “That is one seriously cute dog.”

“Can you do it?”

She nods. “Yes, absolutely. I’ll fit it into my queue.”

“Perfect. My grandma’s birthday is coming up. This would be the perfect gift.”

After I add the ingredients I’ll need for dinner to the list, Ruby places the order.

“We’ll have it by four o’clock,” she says. “Will you teach me to make enchiladas?”

“Of course, but if you want to learn from the best, you should let my grandma teach you.”

Ruby’s smile quickly falls, and immediately I wish I’d kept my mouth shut. She’d have to leave her apartment to meet my family, and that’s obviously not going to happen. “Ruby, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

She shakes it off. “No, it’s fine.” She nods toward the painting she’s working on. “I’d better get back to this. I’d like to finish it today.”

“Sure.” I motion toward the living room. “I’ll let you work now.”

It occurs to me that, if I can’t bring Ruby to my grandma’s house, maybe I can bring my grandma to Ruby. Ruby seems fine having me here. I think she might be open to having visitors. Maybe I could get one of my female friends to come over. They’re all around Ruby’s age, and they’ve all dealt with serious traumas. If Ruby won’t go out into the world, maybe I can bring a little bit of the world here to her.

Chapter 12

Ruby

In the middle of the afternoon, we get a visitor—Miguel’s boss.

Miguel lets him in while I watch from down the hall, from my studio doorway. Miguel warned me that Mr. McIntyre was coming so I wouldn’t be caught off guard. I suspect the man’s here to talk about my father’s visit.

Shane McIntyre is a good-looking man, in his late thirties, I’d guess. He’s tall with short brown hair and a trim beard. His eyes are a surprisingly bright shade of blue. He definitely looks the CEO type, dressed in a dark gray suit with a white dress shirt and a matching gray tie.

He nods to me, giving me a warm, friendly smile. “Hello, Ms. Foster. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Hi.” I look from Shane to Miguel, who are standing side by side. “I’m sorry my father was so rude to Miguel this morning. I think he sees everyone as a servant he can boss around. I assure you it was nothing personal against Miguel. He’s been wonderful.”

Shane gently elbows Miguel. “That’s why I chose him for your case.” The man smiles again, and it’s clear he’s making an effort to put me at ease. “Miguel was once my wife’s bodyguard—before she was my wife.” He chuckles. “Before I even met her, in fact. So, yes, I know how wonderful he is. My wife reminds me of this all the time.”

Shane winks at Miguel, who elbows his boss right back. It’s clear the two men have a good relationship.

“Stop,” Miguel says to his boss. “You’re going to make me blush.”

Shane laughs, and then addresses me once more. “Miguel’s caught me up to date on the events that have occurred since he arrived. We’ll catch your stalker soon.”

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