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CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The farmers’ market was packed. Row after row of vendors hawked their fresh fruits and vegetables, sold their lemonade and baklava, and displayed their farm fresh eggs and homemade items.
“Are you ready for tomorrow night?” Locke asked, tossing an apple back and forth.
Two days spent with Bishop, then she’d surfaced for air when Manny called to say he had been discharged and was at home. She wanted to pick up some items to stock his kitchen, and Bishop needed to report in to his boss, so Locke was back on bodyguard duty. Truth was, she’d missed his no-nonsense way of telling her how it was—and how he could sometimes do it without saying a word.
“Sure.” The three of them—well, four, if she counted Tara—were headed to New York City.Road trip.It should be fun. But the last red-carpet event had had its own set of hiccups, and whenever cameras were involved, Tara’s stress level made the New York City skyscrapers look teeny-tiny. Plus, she would have to abandon comfy clothes and be Spanxed into something lean and mean. “It’ll be fun.”
Locke grunted a disbelieving laugh. “What about now? You good?”
Ella waved to a woman she knew at a booth and stopped to buy a loaf of cheese bread for Manny. She snapped a quick picture, scheduling it to post later, when Locke repeated the question.
“I’m fine.”But definitely jittery.She glanced around, itching under the scrutiny she couldn’t place.
“You bought that for Manny, but you won’t eat it?” he asked.
“Why do you guys think just because I won’t touch certain things, that I won’t let others eat them?”
“Well…” Locke shrugged. “I dunno.”
“Manny’s home and recovering. He needs food. I might not be the one who buys him ground beef—”
“Because that’s different than buying him something with cheese in it?”
“Animals used for meat and theirbyproductis an industry that has undergone changes over the years, from inhumane practices to more compassionate ones. There are many reasons I don’t eat meat, and many more why I’m a vegan. But mostly, I’m disturbed that there was and in some cases, still is, an industry that is indifferent to the pain and well-being of animals, seeing them as nothing more than dollars on a spreadsheet, when they are livestock with beating hearts. It literally makes me sick.” She smiled at a familiar face and glanced over her shoulder to see if there was someone else she knew. No one caught her eye. “I’m not here to regulate what Manny eats, but I am happy to help him get better. Free-range chickens didn’t exist that long ago. Now it’s a term people are willing to pay for. That helps the chickens and the farmers by trickling more money back into an industry that has seen new growth.”
Locke nodded. “I like that about you.”
“What?”
“Everything’s a lesson.”
She blushed. “Well, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“My turn.”
“Hmm?”
“Fifth time.”
“For what?” she asked.
“I think you already know.”
She bit her lip. “I’m looking around?”
Locke nodded.
“Do you feel anything… weird?” she asked.
Locke cast a lazy glance over the crowd and shook his head. “If I did, we wouldn’t be here.” His eyes continued to scan the crowd. They never stopped moving, like Bishop’s, when they were in public. “But”—he rubbed a hand over his jaw—“there’s something to be said for intuition. You’ve been in the crosshairs. Anyone who’s been there before, especially more than once? They know the feeling.”
“I know that feeling,” Ella whispered.
“It’s not a club that I welcome you into. But you’re a card-carrying member.”
“I—”