His lips twitched. “ ‘Dickface’?”
She shrugged. “I couldn’t think of anything bad enough.”
“ ‘Dickface’ works just fine. They’ll add time for his assault on you; breaking and entering, too. He has a cousin who’s not taking his incarceration well. Even with your charges, Hammell told me they could only do a twenty-four-hour hold until Daisy presses charges and he has his day in court.”
“Hard to do when she’s so out of it. I think she knew Charlie was in the room, but she didn’t open her eyes. It killed me that he had to see his mother like that. The bruising was so much worse today than it was yesterday, and Charlie freaked out seeing all the tubes and hearing the beeps of the monitors.”
“If he hadn’t run all the way to get us, their story would’ve ended up very differently.” His leashed anger was evident in the tightness of his jaw and the way his fingers flexed in hers. “His being a drunk has little to do with the violence. He’d be like that without the booze. Alcohol just exacerbates the fact that he’s an angry, weak man who preys on those smaller and weaker than himself.”
Mia realized that he was also talking about his own father, and she turned their hands so they were palm to palm, her hand cradling his.
“Being a husband and father isn’t about strength,” she said quietly. “It’s about making the right decisions for your family; it’s about fully assessing situations before you put your family at risk. We can both relate to Charlie, because neither of us had a father who treated people with dignity or respect. Yours was like Latour: he ruled with his fists. My abuse was a lot more subversive. But in the end we were both colored by who our fathers were. I’d like to be a part of helping Charlie learn that there are men who are good and kind, and that not every male in his life is angry and violent.”
The waiter appeared as if by magic. They ordered bowls of seafood gumbo, grilled redfish, and a bottle of crisp pinot grigio.
“What happens tomorrow?” Cruz asked as the waiter left with their orders.
“I go to my mailbox place and pick up the papers. Sign them in front of a notary and overnight them back to the investment company.”
“I thought no one knew where you were.” Cruz straightened, suddenly alert.
“I contacted the investment company directly, via email. I had to give the private-equity firm an address to send the papers. Don’t worry. The mailbox rental place is here in New Orleans, and they have a notary. I’ll be in and out in a flash. They open at nine. I’ll drive in, and be back home for breakfast.”
“Not showing your hand would be better yet. This is still too damned close to Bayou Cheniere for my liking.”
“Well, the papers have to be signed, and Todd and Miles won’t let me return to San Francisco to sign them there.”
“Now at least three people know you’re in New Orleans?”
“No. Although, as I told you, I trust them one hundred percent. I only gave the equity company the address, and directly to the personal email of the man in charge of my LBO.”
“Michael Ordway.”
“Ye—” Her eyebrows rose. “How do you know his name?”
“Because you’ve been convinced someone is trying to fucking kill you, and while you only want to know the who, I fucking want to know the why.”
“That doesn’t answer the question, Cruz. How do you know Ordway’s name?”
“You told me the name of the company. I know this much about you: you’d only deal with their top man. Ordway is that man. He’s savvy, well respected, and a shark for his clients.”
Mia mulled that over. She wasn’t accustomed to people second-guessing her, nor was she used to someone stepping in to protect her. It felt odd. Good, but . . . odd.
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers, a sweetly romantic gesture that made her heart kick up pleasantly. “Trust me. I only want to keep you safe. Let’s forget business,” he murmured, his breath humid on her skin, “and for a few hours, other people’s problems, and just drink our wine and enjoy our meal.”
“Excellent plan.”
He reached into his back pocket, and withdrew a piece of lined paper, which Mia recognized as from her pad in the kitchen. She smiled. “So, instead of heavy dinner-table topics, you want to talk about construction and plumbing? Let’s move that hot-water tank to the top of the list.”
He unfolded the single sheet on the table and smoothed it with his free hand. “Let’s talk about this list.”
Chapter Fifteen
Are you blushing?”