The Romeo Arrangement

“Besides losing a night of work so I could enjoy some good music and a buzz, it’s peachy,” he says with a nod. “I didn’t want to interrupt the main man while he was giving his speech, but I had to come over and introduce myself.”

“The hell are you doing here, man?” Ridge materializes behind him, holding my coat. “I thought I was hallucinating.”

“You know me,” Faulk laughs, raking a hand through his hair. “I gotta break up the monotony and put my finger on the pulse in Dallas. I’m just glad I came out and caught a live performance by the amazing Ridge Barnet. Especially seeing how it’s starting to feel like spring, and trouble’s coming with the pretty weather.”

“Yeah.” Ridge’s face goes serious, his smile melting. “Well, I’m glad you had a chance to say hello. I’m waiting on pins and needles for every email.”

His eyes flash, and he slaps Ridge’s shoulder. “Enjoy a night off. I heard from Drake that you’ve got the place all rigged up, looking out for any surprises. Everything’s quiet on my end, hoping to have some new leads for you soon. And if shit goes hot…”

He leans in, and I hear them whispering back and forth, but I can’t make it out.

“Lovely meeting you again,” Faulk says, turning back to me with a wave. “You two make a cute couple. Can’t wait for the wedding.”

He winks, scurrying away before Ridge can push him.

“What was he saying?” I ask, leaning in closer to his ear.

“Telling me he’s got our back. That’s Faulk for you, hell of a pain sometimes, but I’d be less of a man without friends like him.”

I smile, weirdly warmed at getting to meet someone else close to him.

A friend who’s willing to go out on a limb to banish our nightmare.

I slide both arms in my coat as he holds it for me.

The entire time, I tell myself this is all an act. There’s no good reason to be disappointed when we get home and everything reverts back to normal.

I’m just relieved it’s over and we managed to pull this off without starting a fire.

Well, not one that isn’t connected to a suspicious number of nerve endings.

It takes a good while to cross the room. Nearly every patron stops to say congratulations, or asks me a question about starting design work, and to thank Ridge for the open bar.

We’re almost to the door when another man walks up to us.

“My compliments to both of you, and thanks. The entire town’s gonna be talking this up forever.” He frowns, tugging on the bill of his hat. “Say, those newshounds you mentioned…they’ll do anything to get the scoop, won’t they?”

Ridge nods, but rather than answer, says, “Grace, this is Jess Berland. I bought my truck from his dealership when I first moved here.”

“Right, sorry,” Jess mumbles. “It’s real nice to meet you, Grace. I didn’t mean to be rude, I just…”

“You weren’t being rude,” I say, concerned by how he’s frowning.

“I was just asking because I stepped outside for a smoke earlier. Saw two guys near your truck.”

My insides freeze.

“They might not have done anything, but it looked kinda funny to me.” Jess digs around in his pants pocket and pulls out a key ring. “Here, take my ride. Just traded my old one in for something better, doesn’t even have its plates yet. It’s parked out back. I’ll have yours towed to the shop and check it over in the morning.”

“Funny how?” Ridge asks, sizing him up.

Jess shakes his head. “Well…it was pretty damn obvious. There was a dude climbing out from under your truck while the other guy stood lookout. They didn’t see me because I’d gone out the back door and walked around the side of the building.” He rattles his keys, still holding them out to Ridge. “Seriously. Take my truck, man.”

“How will you get home?” I ask.

He laughs. “Aw, hell. I’m related to half the people in here. I’ll get a ride.”

Ridge takes the key ring and passes over his own set of keys. “Thanks, Jess. I appreciate it.”

“Not a problem! I’ll check it over real good for bugs—uh, surveillance devices,” Jess says, quickly darting a look around the room before leaning in. “I saw it in a movie once.”

Ridge gives him his best poker smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing like that. Just a few nosy-ass reporters who never learned to mind anybody’s business.”

“I’ve been watching, made sure you didn’t leave until we talked. Sorry it wasn’t sooner. I got held up by Arthur Snowden talking about how he almost cut his finger off fixing his wife’s washing machine last night.” Grinning, he tells me, “Arthur has a frequent flyer card for the clinic. He’s a walking accident and loves to tell everybody about his last ER visit.”