“Yes. I have. Last week. I meant the veteran who has been evicted from his home.” Reyna met his stare for a hard second and then turned away. Her father hadn’t cared enough to ask about Charlie Fox. If Sean hadn’t made a point to show her how cold that lack of concern seemed, would it ever have occurred to her?
Reyna was afraid the answer was no.
She swallowed to clear the hard lump in her throat.
For the remainder of the meal, conversation was easy but careful. They talked about Brisa’s volunteer project funding new libraries for three local high schools, and her modeling career, stalled after a disagreement with the photographer for a high-end boutique in Miami’s Design District. Marisol asked for opinions about whether the fall vacation she was planning would be better spent shopping in Paris or tanning on Fiji’s beaches.
Since Reyna had spent a lot of time in faraway places but hadn’t done much shopping or tanning, she didn’t have a lot to contribute. She did wonder why someone would travel halfway across the world for a beach when they were already surrounded by them in Miami, but she swallowed that thought.
“Or a family vacation!” Marisol clapped her hands. “We could go somewhere together, a place we’ll all enjoy. I like this. Lots of time to spend together.”
When no one jumped on her suggestion, she folded her napkin. “Everyone check your calendars. We’ll talk more about where when we know when we’re going.”
That would never happen. Reyna understood Marisol’s impulse, but they barely managed a meal without arguments. A week of togetherness would require intervention by either law enforcement or perhaps foreign governments. The Monteros needed space and lots of time apart to stick together.
When the meal was finally over, Reyna said, “We’re on for a three-month trial, then, right, BB?” She wrinkled her nose as her sister rolled her eyes at the old nickname.
“Yes. I’ll call you and we’ll set up a time to start my training.” Brisa stood and Reyna gratefully followed suit. They’d both hugged Marisol when their father said, “I see someone I need to talk to. Marisol.” He held out his arm. She’d be the right accessory for whatever kind of meeting came next. “Reyna, you’ll need an escort for this party. I’ve got someone in mind.” Her father pinned Reyna down with a stare. “Brisa will bring whoever she’s dating at the moment. They’re always good for publicity, but for you, I’ll find someone with the right connections. I’ll have someone text you with the details.”
Arguing here would be too public, too much.
That was why her father had chosen his manner of delivery. He’d known she’d object to being set up with whatever associate he deemed advantageous.
That didn’t mean she would go along with his plan, though. Now that he’d warned her, she could make her own plan.
“Thanks for brunch, Dad,” Reyna said and wrapped her hand around her sister’s wrist. “We’re going to take a walk down by the water before we go.”
He held up a hand, but he’d already moved on to the next conversation. She and Brisa followed the stairs down to the boardwalk leading to the marina.
Before Reyna could say anything, Brisa had wrapped her arms around her neck for a hug. “I’m glad you’re back, Reyna.”
Frozen, Reyna stood there, overwhelmed by the emotion, until she remembered to return the hug. “Me, too.” This was what she’d hoped for and had been missing. Her sister.
“And you won’t regret bringing me in to Concord Court. I have ideas.” Brisa eased back and framed her face with jazz hands. The ideas were big and exciting. For now.
“Great.” She wouldn’t mention Brisa’s terrible track record at sticking with anything for more time than it took for the next exciting idea to show up.
Not today. They were happy.
Brisa touched the rose pendant dangling on the gold chain around Reyna’s neck. “I can’t believe you still have this.”
“What do you mean? You don’t have the stuffed purple unicorn I gave you when you were ten?” Reyna had been so proud of that Christmas gift. The unicorn had been life-size, if you could say that about an imaginary creature. Brisa could sit on it and yell commands as if it was a trained show pony.
Brisa wrinkled her nose. “Not on me.”
“This rose pendant has been around the world.” Reyna fiddled with the delicate pink rose. “I’m not sure how many times I’ve replaced the chain, but I’ve kept this with me. It reminded me of you.”
The weird tension between them thrummed while they tried to come up with a change of subject. Until Reyna left, it had been the two sisters against the world. They could get back to that, couldn’t they?
“Do you want to walk to the end of the marina and back?” Reyna asked. “You can tell me about whoever you’re dating. Dad is not a fan.”
“That is usually the first quality I look for in a man—the ability to disappoint Luis Montero but not enough to get me kicked out of the family. Unless you want to be married off to fulfill dynastic dreams, I suggest you learn from my example,” Brisa said with a sigh. “I can help you with that, too.”
They shared a grin, like the other times they’d teamed up to outmaneuver their father.
Reyna threaded her arm through her sister’s. This was how they’d ended every visit to the club when they were growing up. A trip to the water could wash all the family tension away. Bringing her sister on at Concord Court would ease the workload while she was pursuing her next career as a firefighter.
It might also eliminate some of the time and distance between them. This brunch had made it crystal clear what Reyna had escaped by joining the Air Force and how much Brisa had dealt with while she’d been gone. Brisa needed some room. Reyna could give her that at Concord Court.
What came after, she’d worry about later.
CHAPTER FIVE
AS SEAN JOINED the unofficial therapy session that took place most nights around the pool in the center of Concord Court, he tried to shake off his weird mood that had settled over him while Bo was out for his nightly constitutional. Reyna’s SUV was parked in front of her unit. That had been enough to make him wonder how brunch had gone. Knowing Luis Montero as well as he did, he’d understood her moody sigh that morning. What he was less clear on was why he was curious about how it had worked out. Reyna was his boss. Nothing more.
The memory of that delicate rose pendant against her skin flashed in his mind before he shook it off. Why that kept happening was something to evaluate the next time he was looking to get in touch with his emotions.
So, not tonight.
During the day, the pool showcased the amenities to be found at the town house complex, the lush Florida landscaping and the cold, clear-blue water. At night, the shadows provided the perfect cover for whoever needed to show up to talk.
Even when he had nothing to say, staring up at the night sky was better than trying to sleep through nightmares.
Nightmares that were always worse with no dog at his side.
As he opened the gate, Sean reached down to scratch behind Bo’s ears. He’d miss the hound dog on the nights when bad memories jolted him awake.
His nightmares shouldn’t have so much power, not when so many men and women had been through so much worse than he ever had in his short military career. But the length of his time in the Marines meant nothing in the middle of the night.
The nightmares still came. Fire still blazed against a starless sky.
Cracking jokes to lighten the load of his friends was a much better use of his time than fighting tangled, sweaty sheets and wishing things were different.
When he closed the heavy wrought iron gate behind him, Sean could see that only Mira Peters and Peter Kim had shown up. The group had grown to a steady five after fellow Georgian Jason Ward had moved in, but tonight he and Marcus Bryant were missing.
Since Sean hadn’t mentioned his grand
plan to Ward, the low attendance might be the best situation.
“Did you tell her?” Mira asked before he’d even stretched out properly in his seat. “You promised you were going to do it yesterday.” Mira and Marcus had been a part of the first wave that moved into Concord Court, even while construction was still being finished. The three of them had gotten pretty tight, and Mira had never been one to let something go when she knew she had the right answer. She was the heart of the group. “If you want to make something of your program, Reyna could be a big asset.”
“Sure. If a person can get her to slow down long enough to listen and sign on. I don’t know who that person is.” Sean tipped his head back to stare at the stars. Military life had never been a good fit, but he’d stayed as long as he could. Being a marine had fitted him like a silk suit. Constricting. Uncomfortable. This here was his home.
He’d wanted to be a hero, but watching the building he’d been sent to help clear explode in the middle of the night had been too much—there had to be another way. That ringing in his ears, the fire... That was the part that always woke him up.
Sean inhaled slowly, his heart racing in an instant. That image, bright orange on a dark backdrop, triggered the panic if he let it go too long.
When he’d gone back home to Georgia, he’d started working construction, but the urge to help, to be a part of the mission, had stayed with him. Training service animals had been the easiest answer to the hardest question, but to expand, he needed help.
“I tried, Mira. Twice,” Sean said, even as his conscience pointed out he hadn’t tried hard. “She was in a hurry. Neither of us is going anywhere. There’ll be another time.” Relaxing around the pool at night was usually easy. During the day, Reyna might keep him on edge, but he was good at his job; he knew everything there was to know about Concord Court.
After his mother died, leaving him with a whole lot of nothing in Georgia, Sean had been lost. He’d left the Marines to come home, but without her, he’d had no home.
The job posting for a construction manager for Montero Financial had coincided with his grandmother’s request that he come for a visit. His mother had been one of seven sisters. Five of them had stayed close to home in South Florida, and having that connection had made it easy to move south. There were enough aunts and cousins in the area to keep him busy—he visited when he could.
Or when he was required to. At least Mimi’s birthday party would save him another long day in the office. Sean hated being stuck behind his desk. That was something he’d have to remind himself of when he was being overrun by female cousins next weekend. Seven sisters had produced fifteen daughters and two sons. Now? The crowd of cousins was overwhelming.
Fingers crossed his uncle Manny showed up for the party.
Peter’s drawl interrupted his thoughts. “Reyna never strolls when she can march, for sure. I’d say a man who wants her help would be motivated to catch her unless that guy only talks a big game.” He softened the pointed words with a dripping cold beer, so Sean didn’t do anything but twist off the top to release some aggression.
Everyone wanted to give him advice. But none of them understood how hard it could be to talk to Reyna Montero. She was intimidating. Asking for her help was the same as asking Michael Jordan to join his basketball team for a game of pickup. If she said yes, he’d have all the help he needed, but at the end, she’d outscore him and he’d be left wheezing on the sidelines. And if she said no...
“She signs the checks around here. Gotta navigate carefully.” Sean thumped his feet up on the table to prove to them he was sure of his words. “Besides that, I push her too hard and she could tell me no more dogs around this place. That would shoot my whole plan to pieces.” Sean draped an arm over his chair to run his hand down Bo’s side. The dog had stretched out in his usual place near Sean’s chair.
Neither Peter nor Mira responded. Weak moonlight gleamed on their bottles as they drank.
“Where’s the poet tonight?” Sean asked, ready for a diversion. Jason Ward had been opening up to them while he was taking classes at Sawgrass University. Missing a night could slow that down.
“He might be putting distance between us, now that we know about his leg.” Mira huffed out a sigh. “Even though we’re the ones he should be talking to.”
Ward’s amputated lower leg had never been a secret to Sean, but he’d also never been the guy to shoot his mouth off about other people’s business. His position as Reyna’s temporary right hand meant he saw the recommendations and applications that came through. Making sure the facilities at Concord Court operated and supported the vets it was meant to serve was his job.
Ward didn’t want to talk about the leg. Sean understood that to a point. Pushing him to confide about it before he was ready would do more harm than good. “How much longer is his summer class?”
“Couldn’t be more than a week,” Peter said. “If he’s going to make a move on his writing professor, the clock is ticking.”
Mira said, “I hope he doesn’t try one of Sean’s poems. They’re bad, dude.”
“Roses are red, leaves are green...” He ignored their groans as he tried to come up with an ending that would make them laugh. That was another part of his job. Comic relief. If that made it difficult for other people to take him seriously, fine. He could live with that. “Roses are red, leaves are green, the best beer is cold, and so is the queen.”
Nobody laughed.
“What? That one rhymed. Give me some credit.” Sean tried to read their expressions but the darkness hid them.
“You weren’t referring to Reyna, were you?” Mira said, her words tight like she was pushing them through a clenched jaw, “because I will pick you up and throw you in the pool myself.”
Mira was petite, but the former Air Force medic didn’t make promises she couldn’t keep.
Sean straightened in his chair. “Of course not. No!” Had that even been in the back of his mind? No way. Reyna wasn’t icy. She wasn’t. She was more like pure fire, banked but glowing, ready to burn with a grim stare. He’d watched her put pushy would-be suitors in line. Everyone knew she could turn a man to ash but she didn’t, thanks to control. She’d been in command of airmen and airwomen and it showed. “I wouldn’t. I didn’t. I don’t doubt her commitment to this place. She cares about every vet here.”
Mira’s dark form unbent and relaxed against the seat. “Weird combination of words to pull up, Wakefield. Consider giving up on poetry completely.”
Sean rolled his head on his shoulders. That was solid advice.
“You’re still mad about Charlie. I get that.” Mira twisted her glass bottle on the table. He thought about stopping her there. If Reyna was around, none of them would escape a lecture. Glass in the pool area? It was a security risk.
Reyna Montero didn’t take risks, but security? It was at the top of her priorities, something he appreciated.
“Not mad, just...disappointed, I guess.” Sean had done his best to make a case to let Charlie stay. Reyna had listened carefully, asked for a couple of days to evaluate, and then she’d followed the written policy of Concord Court. Fairly. Evenly.
But not coldly.
“Yeah.” Peter’s voice was quiet. “I get that. How was he hurting anyone?”
“The mission. You guys understand that. We’ve all served. We all understand how our missions guided our work. Reyna’s only following that example.” Mira didn’t appear any happier than Sean, but it was the only argument he could make. “There’s one battle, but every branch, every team deployed, every man and woman has a piece of the mission. Medics don’t fly planes or clear bombs. They still win wars.”
Mira exhaled loudly. She didn’t talk much about her own time in the service, but it had to have been intense. She’d also made her point. Concord Court served a narrow section of vets. Trying to do more than that would lessen its impact.
That didn’t mean anyone would ever get to know her.
“I caught her on the way out to brunch this morning when I was loading up Bo to visit Punto Verde and Charlie.” Dressed like the perfect mix of the girl next door and old money. Beautiful. No-nonsense. Intimidating. The memory of that fragile pink rose flashed through his mind again.
In another lifetime, a construction manager from Georgia would never meet a rich, decorated Air Force pilot from Miami, but this was Concord Court. All types of people came through here. “She had the time to talk about Charlie. Nothing else.”
Mira sighed long and loud. “She would have waited for you to make your case for your training program. She would have. I know it.”
Peter added, “How many times do I have to say this? Set a meeting. Treat it like business. She’s bound to listen then.”
“Sure. I’ll make charts and graphs showing zero money coming in while money actively leaves Concord Court for adoption fees and trainers to work with my volunteers, and then I’ll mention I have a couple friends on board to help.” Sean pointed at the two of them. “You’re it. Marcus will be leaving soon, but I’m counting him, too. I will rope in Ward eventually, but is that even three slides in a presentation? Fifteen minutes for my huge sales pitch. Can I fill that?”
He ran his hand over his head, seriously regretting he hadn’t gone back to school and gotten a degree in something that would help. Business. Accounting. Talking to important people. Did they offer degrees in talking good?
All things that required suits instead of work boots. No, thank you.
The Dalmatian Dilemma Page 5