Page 51 of Baxter's Right-Hand Man

I narrowed my eyes. “I thought you’ve never watched a Baxter movie.”

Lo’s teeth gleamed white in the SUV’s dark interior. “I thought I should see what the fuss was all about. Action flicks with gratuitous car chases and high-stakes espionage aren’t my thing, but kudos on the fashion and gorgeous sets.”

I snorted in amusement. “I’ll pass that along.”

“My point is…we all need a reminder that tough times don’t last—tough people do. We need to believe in something bigger than ourselves or someone badass who inspires bravery. You make a difference, Pierce. Let those kids have their hero. In turn, they can be yours.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” I turned my palm faceup and laced our fingers.

“You look like you could use a margarita.”

I rubbed my beard and nodded. “Or four.”

Lo flashed a disarming grin. “There’s a cute bar on Melrose next to the dry cleaner that makes the best jalapeño margaritas. And their chips are salty. Gotta love a salty chip. First round is on me. We’ll sit in a corner and solve world problems over tequila and guacamole.”

“And what about sex? Can we do that again too?”

He snort-laughed. “Yeah, we can definitely do that again. We’ll go to my place afterward and lose our clothes.”

Damn, that sounded amazing.

“I wish I could,” I replied wistfully.

“One drink. I’ll buy and—oh. People will notice you, huh?”

“Maybe. Word’s probably out that we were at the hospital, so there’s a chance we’re being followed.”

Lorenzo craned his neck to look out the rear window. “Have Raul drive till the coast is clear, then drop us off at my apartment. I have tequila and a bag of tortilla chips and—”

“Let’s go to my house.”

You know, anyone else would have been all over that offer. Not Lorenzo. I could practically see the wheels turning, his brain weighing the wisdom of hanging out with me. I was too mentally drained to talk him into it, so I held my breath and hoped he’d say yes.

“Okay. Yes.”

Fifteen minutes later,Raul pulled up to the gated entrance at the bottom of the hill leading to my house. Camera lights flashed as the gate creaked open.Idiot. I wasn’t sure who was interested in a photo of a black SUV, but that was all they’d get at this hour. The windows were dark, and the security team wouldn’t let them get any closer.

Lorenzo frowned and sank lower in his seat. I didn’t say a word.

I lived in a rarefied world I didn’t know how to explain, and truthfully, I’d become numb over the years. In the beginning, the perks were sweet and the lack of freedom had seemed like a small price to pay. Now I recognized my home for what it was: a cage. A pretty glass-and-steel cage on a hill with beautiful views and every amenity known to man, but a cage nonetheless.

I led him through the contemporary maze of beautiful art, gleaming floors, and impossibly high ceilings into my great room. I shrugged my jacket off, dumped it over a barstool at the kitchen island, and made a beeline for the liquor cabinet.

“Name your poison. I have tequila, but I think I have one of everything else too.” I held up a tequila bottle, chuckling when his stomach growled on cue.

“Oops. I haven’t eaten anything since—”

“Dude. Let me get all Jetsons on you.” I picked up the iPad I’d left on my counter earlier and scrolled to a well-used app. “This is like DoorDash on steroids. Tell me what sounds good to you, and it will magically appear within ten to fifteen minutes.”

“Oh, that’s a lot of pressure. Just pizza, I guess. You can choose the toppings. I like everything except anchovies.” He held up his hand like a stop sign, the other on his hip. “I actually do love those mini little fishy creatures, but never on pizza.”

“Too salty,” we said at the same time.

We shared a smile that went a long way toward making this all seem so…normal.

Except for the part where my ears felt warm, and my heart did a somersault. It was oddly gratifying to know my crush hadn’t gone anywhere. Lorenzo was a welcome respite from the raging impostor syndrome I felt after visiting the children’s ward and the frustration Jasper had unwittingly churned up.

And it was nice to have someone here. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had company other than Seb. Oh yeah, the waiter. But my memory had failed me that night, so he didn’t count.