My brother and I are both howling with laughter now. “Eres un loco hijo de puta.”
“Crazy?” Simon asks. “Definitely. As for being the son of a bitch—jury’s still out.”
I freeze, worrying we’ve offended him, until he cracks up as well.
“So, can you do it?” he asks through his laughter.
Arrón mutters his questions back to him under his breath while I answer aloud. “We can do it. When do you need it?”
After we hammer out the details—from design to deadline—Simon asks, “Y’all think she’ll like it? Right?”
Arrón claps him on the back. “Man, any kid would.”
“I can’t believe she’s going to be three.” His voice is wistful—the kind of voice a father reserves solely for his daughter.
“Desi will be seventeen her next birthday. My pollito is almost grown.”
“If it’s any consolation, she’s a good kid. You’ve raised her right.” Simon’s eyes brighten. “Just the other day, there was a new kid—a transfer—and she was lost. Desi not only walked her to her class but drew her a map and highlighted the best routes. Like, she’s just… a good kid.”
My eyes burn, but I force a smile. “It’s all Imani. She’s her mama through and through.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, brother. You do your part.”
We shoot the shit for a little more until Simon’s phone trills in his pocket.
“Hey, Goldilocks, everything okay?” A pause. “Again? Have you tried calling… yeah, no, I know. You want me to ride out and check on her? You sure? Okay. Love you.”
He sighs as he tosses his phone down onto the table.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, man, it’s just… Seraphine has Mags crazy worried.”
I clear my throat and prop my elbows on the tabletop, going for nonchalant. “Worried how?”
“She hasn’t been to work since her dad passed. She’s acting out—lashing out. Magnolia and the girls are obviously concerned. Hell, I’m concerned. Something’s gotta give, but the girl is as stubborn as a mule.”
“Did you hear about the fair?” Arrón asks, unknowingly baiting my hook for me.
Simon’s brow furrows. “No…”
I give him the bare bones, not wanting to tell her business behind her back. However, the little I divulge is enough to have Simon smoking mad. “What the fuck?” he growls, shoving his chair back from the table so hard it nearly topples when he stands.
“She’s okay. Desi actually called me, and I got there before anything happened.”
“Mateo, man, I don’t know what to say—how to repay you.”
I wave my hands in front of my chest. “No repayment necessary.”
He paces a few laps around the office, muttering to himself before turning to me. “You might change your mind after what I’m about to ask of you.”
A strange combination of interest and dread mingle within me. “Which is?”
“Could you maybe like… check on her?”
The dread turns to some other emotion—one I’m not too keen to name. My friend here doesn’t know it, but he’s basically just given me the keys to the kingdom. Regardless of the fact that nothing will ever be between the two of us, a few heated looks and banter never hurt anybody.
“Check on her how?” I ask, making sure to keep a neutral tone.
Simon scratches his chin. “I don’t know, it’s just… she won’t let Mags in. She barely even answers her calls, and you’ve sort of already been there for her. Maybe she’ll be more receptive to you?”
My lips twitch with a smile, but I school my features before it can surface. “If you think it’ll help.”
Arrón sits silently, his phone in hand. To anyone else, he looks wholly engrossed in his screen. But I know him; I know he’s listening to every word Simon and I exchange. Just like I also know, the second we’re alone, he’s going to give me shit—like he’s been doing the past two years—for being attracted to her in the first place.
“I honestly don’t know, but it can’t hurt to try, right?”
Simon looks so hopeful, as if my intervention could somehow change everything for Seraphine. I’m not exactly sure that’s true, but I also know I’m going to try my damndest to get through to her. I’m going to rally around her fine ass until she rejoins the land of the living, even if I have to drag her out of limbo myself.
The path she’s on now leads to nothing but destruction, and if Simon thinks I can help, maybe I can. Our chemistry and harmless flirting aside, at this point, I don’t think my conscience will let me not try, at the very least, to get through to her.
I sure as hell would want someone to step in and help Desi—though, preferably without thinking about her sexually.
I shake off the bout of nausea that rolls through me at the thought of anyone thinking of my daughter the way I think of Seraphine, take a cleansing breath, and turn to Simon. “I’ll give it my best.”