Luna and the Lie

by Zapata, Mariana

  “I’ll know when I see it,” he answered as he turned down an aisle that held brushes.

  I almost crossed my eyes. Then I asked myself why he was in the brush section to begin with. Then I reminded myself that I didn’t need to wonder over it.

  “Sup, Luna?” a voice called out from behind the counter at the back of the store.

  I couldn’t help but immediately smile as I craned my neck toward the counter along the far back wall of the paint store. “Hi, Hector.”

  “I had a feeling today was gonna be my lucky day,” the really good-looking man, who had worked at the shop for as long as I could remember, replied from where he stood. He was already smiling that giant, white smile that had to be one of the nicest I’d ever seen.

  I snorted. “You say that to everybody.”

  “Only you.” He grinned. “Whatcha need?”

  I stopped right in front of the counter and took a peek over my shoulder as I said, “My boss wants to do something custom for two cars he’s going to start working on, so I had to bring him to the best.” Standing on the tips of my toes, I called out, “Rip?”

  What might have been a grunt answered me from the direction of where I had last seen him. The storefront was pretty small. I wasn’t positive what he was looking at, or why I couldn’t see him, but all right.

  I turned back to my friend and rocked onto my heels. “He’ll be here in a sec.”

  Hector leaned forward, planting his elbows on the counter between us, and asked the same question he always did when I came to see him. “What are you doing for lunch?”

  Then I told him the same thing I always did. “I already had lunch. What are you doing for lunch?”

  He laughed, like this was new, and it was just as nice as his smile. Just as nice as everything about him. “Nothin’ now that you aren’t coming with me.”

  “You’re so full of it.” I snorted again and glanced over my shoulder once more. Rip still hadn’t come. I turned back to the other man before asking, with my eyebrows raised, “You got one?”

  He raised his eyebrows right back. “I always got one for you,” he said, making it sound way flirtier than it was.

  He always had them, period, but this was our game.

  I dug through my purse for a dollar, then thought twice about it and grabbed another one before holding both between us. “Can I have two, please?”

  “Two?” he asked as he took the bill, then opened a drawer on the other side of the counter and pulled what I wanted out as he traded it for the money. “She’s saving for a bike now.”

  “A bike? What happened to the cell phone she wanted?”

  Hector snickered as he closed the drawer. “That’s how long it’s been since you dropped by. She already sold enough of those things to buy her cell.”

  “No way!”

  “You probably paid for a quarter of it,” he said.

  The sound of a throat clearing behind me told me Rip had appeared, and when I turned, I was more than a little surprised to find him looking past me. He was staring.

  At Hector.

  And because I knew his features well enough, I knew that face that might look carefully blank to everyone else was a lie.

  He was irritated.

  But by what, I had no clue.

  And it wasn’t any of my business.

  “How’s it goin’?” Hector asked, being as friendly as usual. “What can I help you with?”

  When a moment passed and my boss didn’t say anything, I glanced at the other man and said, “Hector, this is my boss.” Like that would explain everything. “Rip, this is Hector.”

  Rip though, didn’t respond, and his eyes still didn’t stray from the dead-eyed stare he was shooting the man on the other side of the counter.

  Okay.

  I needed to get this in gear.

  I gestured toward my boss. “Ah, Rip? You want to come over here so you can narrow down some ideas?”

  He didn’t move, and he didn’t look away from the other man. All right.

  “Here you go, Luna,” Hector said from the other side of the counter, tapping what I knew were mango-flavored chili-covered lollipops against my forearm.

  I bought one from him—from his niece to be exact—every time I came in.

  Taking them, I smiled and said, “Thank you,” before pulling the plastic off the top off one and shoving the whole thing into my mouth before holding the other one out toward Rip.

  His body still hadn’t moved, but those blue-green eyes had. To the lollipop. Then back over to Hector.

  “I got it for you,” I told him around the pop as I balled up the wrapper with my other hand and handed it to the one man in the room who had never hurt my feelings.

  “Luna said you were wanting a custom color for a couple of cars,” Hector piped up as he threw the trash away.

  Rip took the lollipop from me and shoved it into his free pocket.

  His eyes slid to me, and somehow I managed to raise my eyebrows at him because I didn’t get what had irritated him. “You okay?”

  He tipped his chin, and I noticed the way he let out a deep breath. Noticed the way his shoulders were shoved back as he came toward the counter. Then I definitely couldn’t miss the way he stood next to me, his upper arm touching my shoulder. His boot against the side of my boot.

  Maybe he did feel bad about yesterday.

  It wasn’t like he ever jerked away from me before, but he’d never come up to standing right beside me either unless there was a reason. That reason being me being upset if the last two times counted. That was something to think about.

  “Any ideas what you’re lookin’ for?” Hector asked, his eyes bouncing back and forth between Rip and me in a way I wasn’t sure how to take.

  Just as I opened my mouth, Rip beat me to it. “Red. Blood red.”

  I’m sure I looked up at him with my mouth open in surprise. Where the hell had that come from? I had literally asked him in the car if he had any ideas.

  “Almost black, but not,” Rip kept going.

  Hector seemed to think about it for a second before he nodded. “I can work with that. What about the other one?”

  That handsome face tipped down to look at me, those intense eyes lingering on my hair for a moment before they finished the trek down to mine, and he asked, “What’s your favorite color?”

  My favorite color?

  Hector answered for me. “It’s white, isn’t it?”

  I nodded, but I was going to blame the lollipop in my mouth for why I did. We’d had plenty of conversations about colors over the years. Of course he knew.

  Rip’s gaze swung back around to me, his forehead furrowed. “White?”

  I nodded again.

  “Why?” he asked like even he couldn’t believe it.

  I shrugged and took the lollipop out of my mouth long enough to say, “It’s classy. Everything looks good in white.”

  He blinked.

  “If you mix the three primaries together, you get white. I think it’s cool.” I smiled at him, for real that time. “And I’ve only painted one white car in years. I’m not sick of it yet.”

  “What kind of white can you do then?” my boss asked the other man, but his gaze remained on me.

  “Don’t do it because of me. You can do any color you want,” I threw in, not liking the pressure of him putting my favorite color on a car he was going to be selling.

  His face was super serious. “I know.”

  Okay then.

  “Show me a pure, bright white with a blue undertone then,” Rip told the other man after finally turning to face him again.

  Hector bobbed his head before pecking at the computer keyboard.

  Well.

  He really must feel bad.

  Good.

  * * *

  It took about ten different tries to get the shade of red Rip had envisioned in his head, which took hours because mixing colors was literally a science that Hector had a doctorate in, and it took half as lon
g to get the shade of white that he liked.

  When Rip said I could spray a fine layer of metal flakes onto the car that was going to be the shade of white he’d chosen—white with some hints of light blue—I had “oohed” and “ahhed” because I loved doing metal flakes and didn’t get to do them all that often; cleaning up the booth and the gun afterward was time consuming and a giant pain in the butt but totally worth it.

  I had barely closed the truck door as Rip loaded the paint into the back of the truck—he’d given me a look that said I was nuts when I’d gone to pick up the first container—so I’d backed off, put my hands up, and let him do it. It wasn’t like I hadn’t carried my own paint to the back of the CCC truck a thousand other times, even though Hector always offered, but if Rip wanted to do it now, so be it.

  The door had barely been shut when my phone started ringing from inside my purse. I pulled it out and frowned at the screen. It was the shop’s number. “Hello?” I answered.

  Instead of Mr. Cooper’s voice, or even Miguel or anyone else’s, the one I dreaded said, “When are you getting back?”

  I tipped my face toward the window to my right and bit the inside of my cheek. “Soon. Why?”

  “Something doesn’t look right.”

  I thought about the work I’d left him with and didn’t understand how it was possible for him to screw up any part of it. He should have been done by then. He should have been helping out on the floor. “How?” I heard the edge in my own voice. I really was fed up with him. I was so fed up, I was almost to the point of being past caring about whether or not he got fired for messing up so often.

  “Look… you need to get back so you can fix it,” the man-child claimed.

  Just the words I wanted to hear.

  I kept making a face. “Tell me what you think you did wrong, and I’ll tell you how to fix it before I get there.”

  The driver door opened, and I didn’t miss the teal-colored eyes that swung toward me as Rip got in.

  “It’s easier to show you. How much longer are you going to be?” he repeated.

  “I don’t know. Probably not that long, but I need you to tell me what happened because a lot of things you think might be messed up, can be fixed,” I said, trying to sound calm, but just thinking about how much him screwing up might eat up my time when I got back left a tight feeling in my gut. It was already almost five, and I wasn’t too crazy about staying late. Not today at least. I was supposed to go to the gym with Lenny.

  Jason decided to pretend he hadn’t heard me. “How long? Twenty minutes?”

  Kill him with kindness, kill him with kindness, kill him with kindness. The words alone felt like a boulder right in the center of my entire freaking existence. I’d been having to tell myself those exact same words way too often lately, and they weren’t being as effective as usual. “Jason, tell me what you did.”

  He ignored me like he always did. “It doesn’t matter. You’re going to have to fix it.”

  The truck starting up broke through my thoughts, but I kept my gaze forward on the building we were parked in front of. “I’m not going to fix anything. You need to learn how to fix it. So even if I get there, you’re still going to have to do it, okay?”

  There was silence on the other end and then, “This isn’t my job.”

  Oh, no.

  A big hand landed in front of me, palm up, and I glanced over to see that obviously it was Rip’s.

  He opened and closed those long, forever-stained fingers despite the bulk-sized Orange hand cleaner in every bathroom.

  Did he…?

  Screw it. Fine. I had already come in between these two, I wasn’t about to volunteer to do it again.

  I dropped the phone into his hand, and he didn’t waste a second bringing it up to his ear and grumbling, “What did you do?”

  I wasn’t sure if I’d answer that question if I were Jason. Honestly, I’d probably hang up.

  “You’re calling Luna when you know she’s busy, with me, so I wanna know what you did that’s making you call…. You didn’t do anything? Then why are you calling?.... So you did fuck up?.... That’s what I thought…. Again? What did I tell you yesterday?.... Go upstairs, tell Cooper what you did…. Yes, Mr. Cooper. Yup, the one who hired you. That one. Go tell him right now. Don’t wait until she gets there. She’s not doing shit.” There was a pause and then, “The fuck did you just say?” Rip snapped, and I had to press my lips together, if only to keep my mouth from opening... in almost glee.

  He blinked.

  I blinked.

  Then he pulled the phone away from his face and stared down at the screen.

  “Did he hang up on you?”

  He was still staring down at the phone when he muttered, sounding pissed, “This motherfucker….”

  He’d hung up on him.

  And… it made me laugh.

  Maybe it was Rip’s facial expression, maybe it was the idea that he was genuinely outraged, but I laughed, and I didn’t stop laughing. The frustration I’d felt toward that motherfucker, in Rip’s words, instantly disappearing. Maybe because it was nice to see that I wasn’t the only one who got treated like crap. I seriously couldn’t believe he’d hung up on him. It made me cackle and forget I was supposed to be professional and stuff. “Watch, he’s going to pretend the phone dropped the call, but he’s on the landline,” I warned him.

  Rip kept his gaze down on the black screen before thrusting the cell back in my direction. His tone was freaking grumpy as he asked, “He always this much of a piece of shit? He already knows he’s got one strike against him after yesterday. Now he’s gonna have two after this bullshit. He can’t play the dumb card too much longer.”

  So he had gotten in trouble then. That made me feel just a little better about yesterday. But I would have liked it more if he’d gotten the ax. I mean, Rip had gotten rid of people for less, but that was none of my business.

  Fortunately, he didn’t wait for my answer, probably knowing that was a yes. “He always act like that with you?”

  I closed my eye, still looking forward. “What do you mean exactly?”

  I was pretty sure Rip clucked his tongue. He rephrased it, bless his heart. “He always act like a prick like that?”

  “Well…” I trailed off, but inside, I thought yep, which was why he had reamed me the day before—because Jason was a prick.

  There was a rough, “Hmm.” Ripley’s cheek did that twitch thing, and I almost laughed again at the reminder of how mad he’d just been. “He gives you shit like that again, you tell me. Got it?”

  I made a face to myself, telling myself to let the day before go—and only partially succeeding—but still managed to say, “Sure.” If it came out sarcastic, that hadn’t totally been my intention.

  Those blue-green eyes swung to my direction, exposing something in them I couldn’t pinpoint. “Luna, just fucking tell me, all right?”

  Like I wanted to deal with Jason’s attitude more than I already did. Rip could have him if he wanted him. I felt a little like I was cheating on Mr. Cooper by going through Rip to get rid of him, but I had told Mr. C about how he acted around me, and he’d still thrown him my way. “Sure,” I agreed again, knowing I didn’t sound convincing.

  I was choosing happiness. I was going to move on and forgive Rip for the day before. He would have done it to anyone.

  I shouldn’t take it personally.

  I could see his hands flex on the steering wheel, but it took a minute for the next round of words to come out of his mouth. “Say, think of something else you want.”

  My body froze, instantly choosing that to focus on instead of… before. Because, we were back to this? Again? “Rip,” I almost groaned. “No, we’re done. We’re even. We’re fine, whatever you want to call it.” I almost started to say we were good, but that felt like a little bit of an exaggeration. In a few days, we’d be good. Right now, we were just fine.

  He didn’t look at me though. “We’re not.”

  �
��But we are.”

  “Nah, Luna, we’re not. Choose something else,” he insisted, still focused ahead.

  Was he being serious? He’d spent fifteen hours in my company, including the time he slept in a room down the hall from mine. If that didn’t count as a massive favor, a favor that should make us totally even for all intents and purposes, I wasn’t sure what else would.

  Unless….

  Did he really feel that bad about getting mad at me?

  “Rip, it counted. Just because—” My sister kicked me out, I thought but didn’t say. “—we didn’t end up having to stay or do anything, doesn’t mean it doesn’t count. You went with me. That’s more than enough.” I just wanted to… move on.

  He had other ideas though.

  “Too fucking bad.” Those blue-green eyes slid back to me for a split second, and I could see the tightness at his jaw. “Figure it out and let me know what you want.”

  “Nothing. I promise. There’s not a single other thing you need to do.” Because there wasn’t. There really wasn’t.

  Those long fingers tapped along the steering wheel, and his jaw did that tightening thing again. “Yeah, there is. The other one doesn’t count. All we did was take a fucking ride and eat a late dinner. Figure it out, Luna. I don’t wanna be sixty when you decide.”

  I pressed my lips together.

  Don’t do it, Luna. Everything is not fine and dandy. Don’t do it. Don’t—

  Let it go. Let it—

  I didn’t.

  “So I have… two years… before then?” I whispered, grimacing at the joke that I shouldn’t have made so that we could focus on the serious topic of our conversation. So I could hold on to the distance I was supposed to put between us because he was my boss.

  What I got was silence.

  Freaking silence.

  The sigh that came out of him reminded me of what I figured a hot air balloon would sound like if it deflated. “I should’ve fired you the other day.”

  I sucked in a breath, and my entire upper body turned to him.

  He was smirking.

  He thought he was being funny.

  He was… joking.

  These mocking, laughing eyes I had never seen before slid over to me, and the second they spotted my expression, they changed. My name came out a grumble. “I was playing.”