"Tyree would never forgive us if we started asking the customers. Same goes for one of those online crowdfunding deals. Not his style, and you know it."
"Yeah, I do," Reece admitted.
"That's not what I meant, anyway," Jenna said. "It's just that Easton's a lawyer, so he'd know how to renegotiate the loan or get an extension or forgiveness, or whatever you call it. And he knows everyone, too. Maybe whatever bank holds the note is already a client."
"Well, it's not going to do us any good to sit around making suggestions," Reece said. "We need to go talk to the man."
"Be persuasive. You have to convince him to let you help." They rose, and Jenna took all their plates and carried them to the counter, then came back. "You guys will figure something out."
She leaned in and kissed Brent's cheek, then turned to Reece. She hesitated for just a second, the pause so brief he barely noticed. Probably wouldn't have, except that he was hyperaware of her. And so he noticed the hint of a blush on her cheeks, too, when she brushed a feather-soft kiss across his cheek.
"So," she said, then cleared her throat. "Right, well, I need to go get dressed. I've got that job interview. Wish me luck?"
"Always," Reece said.
"You don't need luck," Brent said. "You've got talent." He turned to Reece. "Ready?"
"What? Ready to tell a man I've respected my whole life, who has more pride in his little finger than you and me put together, that I know he's hurting for money just a few years before his only son's about to go off to college? Why the hell would you think I'm not ready?"
Brent met Jenna's eyes. "We'll be leaving now."
"We'll call you later to see how your interview went," Reece said.
She waved the words away. "Oh, please. Don't worry about me today. I'm just looking for a job. You guys are trying to help Tyree with his life."
Chapter Seven
It was a twenty-minute drive from Brent's north-central bungalow to Tyree's East Austin home in the Wilshire Wood neighborhood. But for the entire trek, neither Brent nor Reece said a word to each other. Instead, the only sound was a stream of music from KUTX, a local station owned by the University that aired an eclectic mix of music including local artists. Normally, Reece wouldn't mind--part of his job was bringing in local talent, and he'd found several bands for the club by tuning in.
This morning, however, the music-filled silence seemed heavy. And it wasn't until Brent had pulled up in front of the charming stone house and killed the engine that he turned to Reece and spoke.
"Be careful," he said, then opened the door and slipped out of the Volvo before Reece could ask what the hell he meant.
Except, of course, he didn't have to ask. Reece and Brent had been friends a long time, and he knew damn well that Brent wasn't a guy who missed much. It's one of the things that made him such a good father.
It was also damned annoying, and when Faith was a teenager, Reece was pretty sure she'd back him up on that.
"You're imagining things," he said as they walked up the sidewalk, the concrete uneven from years of tree roots pressing upward.
"Could be," Brent said easily, then rang the doorbell. "It's happened before." He stood back, leaning against the stone facade, his brown eyes fixed on Reece. "But in my imaginary world, you're not exactly Mr. Commitment. And Jenna needs a friend more than she needs another guy who disappears on her."
"You don't know what you're talking about," Reece protested, though it sounded hollow even to his own ears. "And anyway, if you think that I would ever hurt--"
The door flew open, cutting off his words, and Elijah Johnson stood there, tall and lanky in a suit and tie. Half-black and half-Japanese, his skin was a shade lighter than Tyree's, and he'd inherited his mother's eyes and his father's broad shoulders. In the last year, the kid had shot up, surpassing his father in height. And even though Reece had seen him only a few weeks ago, it seemed like the kid had grown another foot since then.
"Isn't it a school day?" Brent asked. "And why are you in a suit? You look snappy, by the way."
"Yeah? Is snappy professional? I need to look professional." He took a step back, then waved his hands to indicate the whole outfit as he looked between the two of them. "Would you hire me?"
"Hell, yeah," Reece said. "What am I hiring you for?"
"My boy's got an interview in about an hour over at Dell Children's Hospital." Tyree's deep voice came from the side of the house, and Reece turned to see his friend and boss come up the driveway in sweatpants and a white T-shirt that displayed bulging muscles and tattooed arms. His dark skin glistened, and he wore fingerless leather gloves. He'd obviously been working out in the makeshift gym that took up one half of the detached two-car garage.
"An interview?" Brent said. "Let me guess. Neurosurgeon."
Eli rolled his eyes, then stepped back, holding the door so that the two visitors could come in, followed by Tyree. "It's for a summer internship in the lab. And if I get it, then I'd work there first and second period my senior year."
Tyree practically beamed. "My boy's decided he wants to go to med school." His smooth baritone voice was usually laced with a hint of his Cajun background. Today, it was also filled with pride. "An internship like this could open some doors."