Page 34 of The Right Garza

He stretches he arms wide with a shit-eating grin. “Step in the ring with me, bro.”

“She’s at our guesthouse,” I say. “Working on getting things up and running.”

“Your place in Pasadena?” Torin asks. “Thought you were selling that.”

“We took it off the market.”

I pull out of the conversation and scroll mindlessly on my phone. Torin and I have an unspoken agreement to never discuss Lexi. Ever. She’s a hard limit.

“Well, it’s good she’s back. And smart that you gave her something to focus on so she doesn’t go running off—”

“She’s not back because shewantsto be back,” Tripp cuts off. “She’s paying off a debt. Your wild Latina got herself in trouble in Vegas and Trent—”

“Shut the fuck up, Tripp,” I growl. Then I cut my glare at True. “You don’t how keep your mouth shut, man?”

True holds his hands up to profess his innocence. “It wasn’t me, I swear.”

“Stefano told me,” Tripp supplies. “He came to my fight last Friday.”

“Lexi got into shit withStefano?” Torin growls from the screen.

“It’s taken care of,” I growl back.

“Stefano?” he barks.

“It’s. Taken. Care. Of,” I bark back. Yeah, we’re feral dogs at this point. It’s gets like that with us sometimes. “Now everyone just shut thefuckup about her.”

“All right,” Guy says placatingly, “let’s move on to the Daniel Bollard assignment. They want to—”

“You and I need to talk, Trent,” Torin interrupts.

“No,” I shot back. “Wedon’t talk about her. You know this.”

Tripp rubs his palms together, reveling in the tension.

“We’retalking,” he insists.

“That’s not fu—”

“Like Guy said, let’s move on to the Daniel Bollard assignment,” True interjects while staring at me, silently begging me to let it go.

Tripp has always been a shit-stirrer, and we played right into it.

Rubbing my hand across my jaw, I decide to let it go. Because this time, I have the advantage. I’m here in L.A. and he isn’t. And I’m going to make sure she chooses right this time.

Lexi Flores ismine.

Chapter THIRTEEN

“Yeah, ‘cause there’s no dick involved.”

Lexi

“That shower isamazing,”Maggie says as she skips downstairs in a towel.

Knees pulled up on the couch, I sweep strokes of purple polish along my toenails. “I know, right? It’s made me forget I’m a bath girl.”

After learning yesterday that Maggie was staying at a nearby Airbnb to avoid the long commute back and forth from Bakersfield, I invited her to stay with me instead. Not only because it would save her from spending money she doesn’t have, but also because I desperately need the company. Being on this huge estate by myself was starting to become a bit lonely and depressing for me, especially at night.