“Oh, honey, then go. If anyone deserves some R & R, it’s you.” Shanice let out a breath. “Forget I said that.”
Grace knew why Shanice retracted her words so quickly. “I’m just nervous about spending all day with him.”
“You spend all day with him every day.”
“He’s in his studio. I’m in the office. We talk about what’s on the schedule in the morning. I go over messages midday and before I leave.”
“Oh. Well. It doesn’t sound like you need to worry.”
Everything did seem strictly business with Roman, but Grace had felt undercurrents lately. Especially at the show in Laguna. Maybe she was imagining something that wasn’t there.
“Listen, Grace. If you find yourself in over your head again, call me. And I don’t think it would hurt to get a man’s opinion about this trip. Why don’t you call Brian and talk to him about it?”
“I think I’ll do that.” If Brian really cared about her, he wouldn’t want her going off on a trip with another man. It might also be a way to find out how deep his feelings ran.
Brian asked the same question Shanice had. After a brief and somewhat-disappointing conversation, he left it up to her.
Grace called Selah to ask her advice. “Oh, that’s wonderful. It’s always good to get away and see new things. This is a great opportunity for you, chiquita. Enjoy yourself. If Mr. Velasco decides to extend the trip, just let me know. Don’t worry about anything. Sammy is fine.”
Grace wondered if Selah meant to imply Samuel wouldn’t miss his own mother. What hurt even more was knowing it might be true.
THE NEXT MORNING, Roman threw a duffel bag into the trunk of his car. He checked his watch—6:57. Grace came around the corner, wearing jeans and a lightweight pink sweater, not her usual business attire. She looked ready to travel with her small suitcase, backpack, pink tote bag, and purse. He stowed the suitcase and tote bag. Taking the backpack, he grimaced. “What do you have in this thing? Bricks?”
“My laptop and a couple of textbooks.”
Roman arranged the suitcase and duffel bag to protect her backpack. Grace was in the passenger seat before he could play gentleman and open the door for her. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he looked at her. “We don’t need a map.” He put his finger on the ignition and the engine roared to life. “The car has GPS.”
“I like maps. I know it’s a little old-fashioned.” She lifted her shoulders.
“A little?” He grinned.
“I just want to see the big picture and know where we’re going and how we’re going to get there.”
“Have your life all planned out, you mean.”
“I haven’t had much luck with that.”
When she looked away, he got the message. Don’t ask. “Okay. We’ll do it your way. I’ll drive. You navigate.”
She looked surprised. “You’re sure?”
“If you get us lost, GPS will find us.” He didn’t tell her he already knew how he wanted to get where they were going. The long way.
“If you want to get to Golden by this afternoon, we should take the freeway.”
“I hate freeways.”
She looked at the map and suggested the coast highway rather than head inland to the city and then north. She’d been nervous about this trip yesterday, but seemed relaxed, even eager, this morning. “What changed your mind?”
“About what?” She refolded the map as he drove toward Malibu.
“Coming on this road trip with me.”
She looked at him. “You didn’t call it a road trip. You said it was strictly business.”
“Take it easy. I’m not kidnapping you.”
“Are we going to Golden or not?”
“We’ll get there.” He nodded to the map in her hand. “Find Ojai.”
Frowning slightly, she refocused on the map.
Roman glanced at Grace. She was looking out the car window. She’d hardly spoken on the drive to Ojai. Was he getting the silent treatment? Roman wondered what she was thinking, but didn’t dare ask. He had tricked her. She didn’t know the full extent yet. “Have you been to Ojai?”
Her smile was relaxed. “I’d never driven through Ventura until today.”
Surprised, he gave her a quick look before he pulled into a parking space on Ojai Avenue. “We’ll check out a few galleries after breakfast. Might be good to see what other people are selling.” He was also curious what would catch her eye. He knew she didn’t care for his work.
He found a café on a side street near the Arcade. The hostess seated them by the window. Grace thanked her. Tucking her purse under her chair, she looked across at him. “Is something wrong?”
“Not at all. I’m just beginning to realize how little I know about you.”
“I could say the same.”
“Where were you born?”
She leaned back, studying him. For a moment, he didn’t think she’d tell him. “Memphis, Tennessee. What about you?”
“San Francisco. Do you have family in Memphis?”
Her expression clouded. “I was young when my parents died. My aunt brought me to Fresno when I was seven. Are your parents in San Francisco?”
She didn’t want to talk about her parents, which made him curious how they’d died. Better to answer her question before asking another. “You and I have something in common. I was seven the last time I saw my mother. She went out one night and never came back. CPS took over after she disappeared. I moved around a lot.” A slight understatement. He couldn’t even remember all the foster homes he’d run away from.
Roman had just told her more about his past than he’d ever told a woman. Thankfully, she didn’t look at him with pity. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking. He gave in to curiosity. “How’d your parents die?”
She let out her breath softly and avoided his perusal. He knew she wasn’t going to tell him when the waitress arrived with their coffee and asked if they were ready to order. Roman said they needed a few more minutes. Grace avoided further conversation by hiding behind the menu. The waitress returned and took their orders. Grace faced him again, expression enigmatic. “When did you decide to become an artist?”
She didn’t want to talk about her parents. Okay. “I didn’t decide. It just happened. A teacher caught me doodling in class and said he’d accept drawings in lieu of incomplete homework assignments.”
“You told me you tagged buildings. Were you in a gang?”
He smiled slightly. “Quid pro quo.” He’d answered her questions. She shook her head.
Breakfast was a quiet affair.
On the way out of the restaurant, Roman paused at a display of tourist brochures. “Let’s take a walk.” Grace fell into step beside him. He found the first gallery around the corner from the Arcade. Roman wandered, taking note of where Grace lingered. She liked seascapes, landscapes, watercolors. No wonder she didn’t like his work. But then, neither did he.
She must have felt him looking at her because she turned. “Time to go?” They headed for the car.
Roman felt edgy when she stayed silent as he drove. He’d never had a problem getting a conversation started with a woman. He stopped at a coffee shop in Ventucopa. “I need a caffeine break. How about you?” Grace asked for a latte. She talked with a woman at the bakery counter. He had to wait for the coffees, and saw there was no lull in Grace’s conversation. She glanced over when he collected their order. The women exchanged a few more words, and Grace touched her arm before joining him.
He handed her the latte. “You don’t have any trouble making friends, do you?” He wished she’d be that open and friendly with him.
“Veronica says the wildflowers are still in bloom on the Carrizo Plain.”
Veronica. Grace probably knew the woman’s entire family history.
Back on the road, she talked more. Her aunt had been a career woman and didn’t enjoy travel. “We had to take several connecting flights from Memphis to Fresno. It’s the only time I’ve ever been in an airplane.”
Roman told her about flying to Rome and traveling around Europe on a motorcycle. The more he talked, the more relaxed she looked.
“You’ve visited places I’ll only see on the Travel Channel.”
He looked at her. “You never know.”