I chuckle.
“She doesn’t talk much for a lawyer.”
“Trust me, she does,” Frankie says.
The shorter girl is much more open, talkative, the kind of woman who makes friends easily.
I can’t say the same about Luna Rae. I find her intriguing, but maybe I don’t see much of who she is.
Her voice resonates in the back.
“Your friend won’t mind you taking a detour and giving us a ride?”
“My friend?” I ask.
Her eyes meet mine again.
“The woman you were surfing with.”
“Oh. She must be home by now.”
She nods as if she understands. I bet she doesn’t. She wouldn’t ask if she didn’t want to know if Sammy and I were together. She must think Sammy is waiting for me at home.
I let her be, not offering any details.
We ride in silence for the next few minutes until downtown starts looming in the distance.
“It will only take a minute,” I say, pulling my car in front of the repair shop.
I climb out and look for Jose, one of the mechanics who service my cars and is also the shop's owner.
I give him the keys, the girls’ address, and instructions.
“They’ll have it tonight or tomorrow. I’ll send my people right away,” he says before I thank him and pull away.
I find them sitting in silence, tucked in their blankets. Their eyes hover over me as I slide into my seat.
“You might have it tonight or tomorrow, depending on what needs to be fixed.”
“Thank you,” Luna Rae says in a soft voice.
“Do you need to pick up food or something?”
“We’re going to be fine,” Luna says.
Frankie's eyes tell something else.
“Are you hungry?” I ask her.
She nods.
“What would you like to eat?”
“Anything, but we can’t step out to order. Maybe a drive-through?”
“I’ll go,” I offer.
“We can order from home,” Luna says.
Frankie smiles.
“Don’t mind her,” she says to me.
I let my car roll, a restaurant flashing a red light sign not far from us.
“Italian,” I say, pointing to that place. “Or Mexican.”
I gesture to my left.
Frankie looks at her friend.
“Anything works for me,” Luna says.
“Mexican.”
“Mexican it is.”
I stop the car in front of the restaurant and order the food on my phone—enchiladas, burritos, nachos, salsa, guacamole, and Sopa de lima.
“Ten minutes,” the man says.
I hang up and spend the next few minutes talking to Frankie. She asks me about kite surfing and my summer plans–– her friend is all ears in the back.
She rarely asks a question, keeping her distance.
I wonder if she’s guarded because of me, men in general, or people. Frankie is the opposite, having no problem chatting with me.
The restaurant door slides open a few minutes later, a man carrying two bags in one hand and an umbrella in the other stepping out.
“Can you give me my wallet?” Frankie says, shifting in her seat and looking at Luna.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say, my hand landing on her forearm.
Avoiding her eyes, I open the door.
“Thank you, Mister Rex. Come back soon.”
Grinning, the man lifts the bags to me. I take them and pass them on to Frankie.
Her eyes sparkle with delight.
“Thanks, Miguel. Say hi to Anna for me, okay?”
“Yes, Sir.”
I shut the door, sealing in the aroma of fresh lime, cilantro, and spices.
“It smells so good,” Frankie says, diving into the bags, the blanket sliding off her shoulders.
I get a glimpse of her pink underwear and move my eyes away. It feels as if I’m in a girls’ dormitory.
My focus shifts to my driving, a stare burning the back of my head.
I lift my gaze.
“You didn’t pay,” Luna says.
“What?” Frankie tosses at us distractedly, munching on nachos. “Who didn’t pay? I wanted to pay,” she says exculpatory before noticing Luna’s stare on me.
“I have an open tab,” I say.
Her expression remains set.
“Do you come here often?”
“A few times a week.”
My answer doesn’t cover all her questions, but she opts to stay quiet.
A few more moments of silence slip by before my phone rings. I lift it from the cupboard and glance at the name.
It keeps ringing, drawing Frankie’s eyes to it as well. Luna has her eyes on me by default.
Shy and distrustful––an interesting combination.
‘You always like them complicated,’ my father always said. And he was right.
The ringing stops before starting again. He’s not going to give up. He never does.
I swipe the screen with my thumb and bring the phone to my ear, steering the car with my free hand.
“Yes?”
“Where are you?”
His voice vibrates in my ear, thick and raspy. He sounds pissed. He always sounds pissed.
He wasn’t in the greatest mood today.
The whole damn day.
“I’m on my way,” I say cryptically.
“I’ll leave without you.”
“We don’t have to be there until midnight,” I toss at him, shooting a glance at the girls.
Frankie is still focused on the food. Luna Rae stares blankly out the window.
“Don’t care. Where exactly are you?”
“I’ll be home in an hour.”
“I don’t need you.”
“Why are you calling me then?”
“Brotherly love.”
His sarcasm is as thick as his husky voice.
He always sounds as if he just woke up, smoked a pack of cigarettes, and sucked on pussy until his lungs fell out.
“You have a job to do. If you can’t do it, I’ll replace you.”
“I’ll be there,” I deadpan.
The sound of static fills my ear for a few more moments.
“Kian?”
It takes him a moment.
“Are you with someone?” he asks.
There’s no point in lying to him.
Sooner or later, he’ll find out. I don’t want to give him the impression that I tried to hide from him.
“I’m dropping someone off.”
“Woman?”
“Mm-hmm.”
My eyes go to Luna Rae.
She keeps her gaze on the windshield, but something tells me that every word registers with her.
“Do I know her?”
“No. It’s not important.”
“It’s? She’s listening to you?”
“No. Not really.”
He stays silent for a few more moments before grumping one more time.
“Hurry.”
The call drops dead.
I slide the phone back into the cupholder, just as Frankie swivels her head and points to a house at the end of the street.
8
LUNA RAE
“Thank you,” I say, relieved as I swing my legs over my seat, clambering out of his ride.