Page 37 of The Right Garza

He snorts. “Maybe. But you wouldn’t get hired by an A-list celebrity.”

I can feel my eyes stretch. “This is acelebritygig?”

“We only take jobs like this from the rich and famous. ‘Cause they pay a shit ton and then refer us in the big circles.”

Okay. Damn. Explains how they got so big so fast. Word of mouth is everything. “Between this kind of job and the action-y ones, which do you prefer more?”

“As boring as it is,this. More money, less work. We put our lives in danger sometimes for far less than what a simple job like this one costs.”

“So, why not take only easy, risk-free jobs like this one then?”

“‘Cause then it would be more about the money and less about why we really started. Which is to help people. To save, to rescue, to give hope when all seems lost,” he replies. “It’s sometimes less money and more risk, but the feeling you get after succeeding in helping someone in a big way is just…priceless.”

“I can imagine,” I say thoughtfully. “How do you feel, though, when one of your brothers are on an especially risky mission?”

He inhales an audible a breath, as if this is a hard one for him to answer. It takes a long time before he finally replies, “I put my trust in their capabilities and don’t think about it again until I hear from them.”

Twenty minuteslater, he parallel parks behind a bright yellow hummer in a plush neighborhood in Hollywood Hills.

“Which house is it?” I ask.

“Three blocks up.”

“So how are we gonna see anything from here?”

He chuckles, low and deep. “You’d make a terrible PI.”

“Whatever.”

“Her guy arrived when I was leaving to come get you,” he tells me. “They usually start doing the deed around an hour or so after he comes over.”

“Usually? How long have you been watching them?”

“Three weeks. Our client wants proof that it’s an ongoing thing.” One corner of his mouth tips down. “Gonna be a nasty divorce.”

“Sojuicy!” With an excitable grin, I rub my hands together. “Who’s the celeb?”

When he pinches his thumb and forefinger together and drags it across his lips, I roll my eyes. “Like I’m not gonna figure it out once I see the evidence.”

He shrugs and drops his head back against the headrest. “How are things at the house coming along?”

“Well,”—I pop my gum—”I haven’t made any major decisions as of yet, just a few to set things in motion, so okay for now.”

“Good thinking on upgrading the security and installing additional cameras first. Smart,” he says. “Those eyes are what’s gonna help you when the place becomes overrun with workers.”

“Yeah…” I trail off and bite my lip before breaking the news about Maggie. “So, um, I hired an interior designer to help with the lipstick job.”

His head swivels on the headrest to me. “Nope. You didn’t.”

I frown. “What?”

“I specifically told you to send all potential hires to me for background checkingfirst.”

Yikes. “Well, the thing is, you already know this person, so I didn’t think it was necessary…”

“Is it True, Tripp, Tillie, Torin, or Mom?”

“No, bu—”