Page 7 of Found Objects
“Now, back to you getting laid.”
“That’s incredible,” I told her. “Why would he suddenly do that?”
“He loves his daughter,” she said, like the answer was obvious.
“He’s never talked about leaving before.” It seemed suspicious.
“Maybe pretty boy talked him into it. I’d certainly give him whatever he wanted.”
Perhaps the blond had more power than I was giving him credit for. “Huh.”
“Can you go over there, please?”
“Why would they need to talk to me?”
“I have no idea. Why don’t you go find out?”
“You know—”
“And maybe see if he’d like to take a walk in the woods with you.”
“No man dressed in a suit like that wants to take a walk in the woods.”
“You’re so judgmental. Just try.”
“You’re matchmaking now?”
“As far as I know, you haven’t hooked up with anyone since—”
“You should stick to what you’re best at, which is bossing people around.”
“Listen, even if I’d missed him not looking at all the stunning specimens of female beauty who work for you, I could not miss the way he’s been staring since you stepped out here.”
“I would rather have coffee than get laid,” I confessed.
She rolled her eyes. “Listen, I’m sure it’s almost—oh, look, here it is.”
Lupe Salazar was suddenly beside me with an enormous stoneware mug of her amazing café de olla, which had to be made specially in a clay pot that she didn’t pull out every day. It smelled heavenly, like cloves and cinnamon and the chilis she added for me.
“Tapadh leat,” I said, letting my Gaelic come out before I immediately took a sip.
Lupe nodded, crossed her arms, then gently shoulder-checked me.
“What?”
“You saved Missy Harrington, her daughter, and that cute puppy of theirs from her piece-of-shit husband last night.”
“You did?” Paris asked me.
I shrugged.
“He did?” she asked Lupe. “When was this?”
“Crystal told Diane when she was here earlier for their regular coffee order that he was with her until around four in the morning.”
I stayed quiet, just drinking my coffee.
“According to Diane, who talked to Missy, she thought they were going to die.”
