Only In His Sweetest Dreams(13)

“I should look at that,” L.C. said.

“But what do you think so far?” Mercedes asked. “Harrison, do you want to wake up and hear this?”

“I’ve told you, it’s rude to interrupt a man when he’s having a conversation with the voices in his head.”

“Tell me what you think we could realistically put up for renovating these two units and I’ll let you get back to your party,” she said.

“Including the tranquilizers for Edith?”

“Be nice.”

“Hell, I don’t know. I still think stamps are thirteen cents.” Harrison pointed his cigar at L.C. “What do you think it’s going to take?”

L.C. dragged his brain onto math, shrugged and tossed out a figure that made Mercedes wince.

“That’s with labor. Zack couldn’t do all of it, but he could do a lot so you’ll save a few bucks there.” Pushing his fingers palms out into his back pockets, he shrugged. “I could do the rest for twenty bucks an hour if you wanted to offer me this space rent-free until the work is done.” He nodded at the side of the duplex that hadn’t asphyxiated them.

Silence.

Harrison swiped his sleeve across the sweat standing on his brow. “Damn, L.C. That’d mean another Special Meeting of the Board. Pete, you got more beer in that cart? I’m dying out here.”

“Help yourself.” Pete’s voice floated from inside the unit. “Bring me one.”

L.C. glanced at Mercedes to see what she thought of the idea. Her face was deep red. She looked well on the way to overheating.

“Mind viewing that fence with me?” she said.

Great. He knew what it meant when a woman’s voice got thin and tight like that. She intended to ream him a new one and he didn’t even know why.



“We’re going to look at the fence,” L.C. said behind Mercedes as she led him past Harrison. She didn’t like the tone of his voice. It sounded very much like he was humoring her when she was furious enough to explode.

The sun was growing blistering, which didn’t help. It made the air so dry, her nose hurt. The relief of stepping off the asphalt of the Ring Road and into the narrow shadow cast by the bluff made her let out a huffing sigh.

“Hey, I thought it was a good idea,” L.C. said behind her. “You’re worried about costs, I can cut that. Zack’s needs a place to stay if you keep him on. It’s not really fair for me to pay rent so he can work community hours. How is this not a win-win?”

“The part where you steal my job kind of sucks for me.” She halted at the edge of the shade where they could see the bent fence and hear the traffic beyond.

“I don’t want your job. I’m with Harrison. Meetings are a pain in the ass. The last thing I need is to spend my days going toe to toe with that Garvey woman over the height of speed bumps or wattage of light bulbs.” He scratched the middle of his chest, leaving a damp patch. She had a similar sweat gathering between her breasts. Standing out here was stupid. Nevertheless...

“So you just want to renovate for us out of the goodness of your heart?”

“Like I said, Zack and I are going to need a place to stay. I mean, he might be able to put up at the Y and I could hit the road again, but—” He hooked his thumbs in his waistband. Scowled darkly toward nothing. “I should spend some time with him,” he said in a quiet voice. “I haven’t seen much of him in the last couple of years and…”

“Kids never stop needing their parents?” She wished he wouldn’t make her feel all soft like this. Wished he didn’t make her think of the kids who needed their mom, and how urgently she needed to get them back to Porsha.

Turning, Mercedes braved the intensity of the sun and approached the fence. The broken links were hot, but she pulled the edges back together.

L.C. came up beside her to help, drawing her eye to the tats on his upper arm and shoulder. She loved ink on muscle and his were pure art, surprisingly beautiful and a little whimsical. An exalted warrior held his sword to the sky in defiance. Next to his feet, a nymph like angel sat with her knees drawn up, her face hidden in her folded arms, wings bowed in a protective frame around her.

He noticed she was staring. His expression grew stony, not encouraging her to ask about the design.

“I, um, guess I’ll call a contractor when we get back to the office.” She nodded at the fence. “What do you think this’ll cost?”

“About forty-five cents in zap straps. Are you kidding me with the contractor?”

“That’s not going to look very nice, is it?”

“It won’t look that bad and who cares? No one even lives back here. Tell you what. Put me in that duplex and anyone breaking through this fence will wish the police had been called.”

“Listen to you, tough guy.” She grinned, but shivered too, despite the heat, because the way he lifted a negligent brow told her he wasn’t joking. He was tough.

She stood too close. She could feel the tingle of a sunburn starting and something else. Sexual awareness. Seeing him every day would only exacerbate it. Not good, but he was so...enticing.

He skimmed his gaze over her face, down her neck, into her moist cleavage. The tip of his tongue touched his bottom lip.

Tiny internal adjustments happened without her consent. She straightened her spine and set back her shoulders, opened her eyes wider and parted her lips.

In an act of self-defense, she turned her face aside, trying to get hold of herself.

He made a humorless little noise and looked the other way.

“How, um, how long do you think it would take? To get both units up to occupancy?”

“Me, full time, with Zack’s help? Six to eight weeks.”

She did some mental math. “So we could sell them by summer. That’s not bad.”

He, however, and the way she was reacting to him, was very bad.

Two short months, she told herself.

“Let’s see what the board thinks.”





Chapter 7





Mercedes and the men returned. They gathered for a second time in the meeting room. Harrison explained what had been decided and Edith shook her head, infuriated. How did this always happen? She couldn’t count the number of times school staff had met without her, then presented her with what had been decided at a meeting she hadn’t even been invited to attend. It was rude and disrespectful.

“Our bylaws clearly state this is an adult-only complex.” She felt her cheeks tremble as she continued to shake her head.

“Zack is eighteen,” That Man said. Here she’d been worried about the son, but honestly, was she the only person who could see letting some tattooed jailbird live among them was a very poor idea? She glanced to Mrs. Yamamoto, but she only lowered her knitting and smiled.

“Your son is a very nice young man,” she told him. “He wanted to buy us iced tea when he took the children to the cantina. I said I prefer hot tea, but it was very kind of him to ask.”

Edith had seen it for the attempt to cozen up that it was and had declined as well. She almost said so, but caught a glimpse of Mercedes discreetly glancing at her wrist. She was worried about the children, obviously, and so she should be, leaving them in the care of a strange young man. What was she thinking?

Trying to wrap up the meeting as efficiently as possible, Edith sat straighter and said firmly, “This should be put to a general vote. The cost of the appliances alone is beyond our limit.”

“That’s why L.C. is going to make do with his son’s microwave and take the fridge from Pete’s garage,” Harrison said. “We’ll vote on purchasing the new appliances for both units at the next general meeting. All right, are we done?”

“But—” Edith touched fingers to her throat, wondering if she hadn’t spoken strongly enough because no one had heard her. “We need to vote on whether the men can move in.”

“Edith, we’re getting two strong backs for the price of one. Why in hell are you arguing?” Harrison asked gruffly, as if she was the most unreasonable person in the world. She wasn’t. Why did people always talk to her like that?

“This is a senior living complex, Harrison. That’s what our residents expect.”

“Can someone move to adjourn this meeting?” Harrison asked. “Pete and I have a fridge full of beer to empty.”

“Move,” Peter Dolinski said.

“Second,” Mrs. Yamamoto said.

“Good.” Harrison handed off keys to That Man and they all filed out, leaving Edith alone, still trying to voice her misgivings.



Mercedes still had Mrs. Garvey’s impotent arguments ringing in her brain when the social worker, Shonda Rakin, offered up her advice on how Mercedes should handle the situation with Dayton and Ayjia.

“Are you kidding?” Custody?

Shonda looked like a sunflower with her short blond dreads framing her round, brown face. It was a nice face. She’d had nice things to say to the children, and even her apologetic I-wish-I-could-hand-out-miracles half-smile was nice.

At least if Mercedes could hate the woman, she would have an outlet for her impotent anger. As it was, she didn’t want to make Shonda’s job harder than it already was but, “I can’t do that to the kids.”

Shonda brushed a dread back from her face. “Well, there’s foster care, but there’s no guarantee they would be kept together.”