GRACE PUT SAMUEL in the playpen and gave him his Baby Einstein piano toy. Ashley arrived with a big bowl of homemade potato salad, a tray of brownies balanced on top. “I was in the mood to bake last night. If I don’t get these brownies out of my house, I’ll eat every one of them.”
Nicole arrived red-eyed and pale. “I need to borrow a bowl.” Shanice came in on her heels with a big pot of Boston baked beans.
Ashley looked through the open doorway to the patio. “Where’s Charles? I thought he was coming today.”
“He had to work.” Nicole ripped open a package of salad, dumped it into Grace’s bowl, took a bottle of raspberry-pecan vinaigrette out of her bag, and plunked it on the table.
Nicole gave Shanice a fierce look. “And before you say a word, I already know if I had any brains, I’d quit and find another job.”
Shanice’s eyes widened. “I didn’t say anything.”
“No, but you were thinking it.”
Shanice put her pot on the stove and faced Nicole. “All I’ve ever said is guard your heart. I’ve had mine broken a few times. We all have.”
Nicole wilted into a chair. She looked ready to cry. “He’s an important man doing important work, and I feel important when I’m with him.”
Shanice gripped Nicole’s shoulders, leaned down, and kissed her cheek. “You’d be important without him, honey.”
“I’m just an office worker, Shanice.”
Grace felt Nicole’s pain. “So am I.”
“You don’t understand. I’d do anything for Charles. Anything!”
Grace understood all too well, wanted to warn her friend. “I did everything for Patrick, Nicole, and none of it mattered to him. It’s hard to think clearly when you’re vulnerable and want something so much.”
Brian came in with a case of sodas and a man Grace hadn’t met. “Nice afternoon for a barbecue.” He gave Grace a quick kiss on the cheek. “This is Nigel Campbell, one of our hardworking deacons. You’ll have to do the honors. I’ve only met Miss Tyson.” Brian gave Shanice a nod. Shanice ignored him as she gave Nigel a quick greeting and went back to stirring the beans.
Grace introduced Ashley and Nicole. The minute Nigel spoke, Ashley’s face lit up. “You’re a Brit!”
Roman and Jasper came down the cobbled pathway from the main house and Grace went outside to welcome them. Jasper carried a big watermelon. Roman had a six-pack of Heineken beer and a bottle of champagne. Roman followed Grace inside, where Shanice and Brian stood on opposite sides of the table, the air vibrating with tension. Setting the beer and champagne on the table, Roman extended his hand to Brian. “Henley, right?”
Smiling, Brian shook his hand. “Looks like our prayers were answered. This is Shanice. She was at the hospital, too.”
“Grace said you came. Thanks for looking out for her.”
Jasper winked at Grace and leaned close. “He’s on his best behavior today.”
Grace put the beer and champagne in the refrigerator. Samuel was pounding on the toy piano, and Jasper went over to have a closer look. “And who is this little fella?”
“My son.” She lifted Samuel and sat him on her hip. “Samuel, this is Mr. Hawley, Mr. Velasco’s friend.”
Brian plucked Samuel away. Holding him up, he jiggled him until he laughed, then laughed with him.
Roman watched Brian with Grace’s son. The baby obviously knew him, and Henley was comfortable handling him. Brian carried Samuel back to Shanice, and the two of them talked in low voices. Roman watched the interchange, wondering if Grace noticed. She didn’t seem bothered that her boyfriend was showing considerable interest in her friend. Shanice took Samuel from Brian and joined Roman. “What are you working on? Another mural?”
“Something new. Grace’s idea. Hoping to keep my mind off the trip to hell.”
“Thankfully, that’s a trip I’ll never take, though I deserve it.” She blew a raspberry against Samuel’s neck.
“I thought he was yours. You were holding him the first time I met you.”
Shanice laughed. “You mean the day we were all checking you out to make sure you didn’t have dishonorable intentions toward Grace?” She lifted Samuel to her shoulder. “I grab this little guy every chance I get. No guarantees I’ll ever have one of my own.” Her eyes lingered wistfully on Brian. “He’s pretty special.”
“Are you talking about the baby or Brian Henley?”
Shanice looked embarrassed. “I meant Samuel, of course, but Brian’s pretty cool, too. Nicole, Ashley, and I picked him out for Grace.” She explained about the matchmaker website and how many men they’d considered before deciding Brian was the perfect guy for Grace.
It must be nice to have friends who cared enough to search for a prospective mate. Charcoal already started, Mr. Perfect put sodas into an ice chest outside while talking with Ashley and Nigel. Samuel had fallen asleep on Shanice’s shoulder. Grace took hamburger patties and bratwurst from the refrigerator. He caught her looking at him and felt a twinge of satisfaction. At least her eyes weren’t glued to the man who had built the fire.
“Nice gathering.”
“I’m glad you came.” Grace slipped an apron over her head. “You didn’t seem overly enthused when I invited you.”
“I wasn’t sure I’d fit in.” He’d decided this was his backyard, not Brian Henley’s.
Brian came in for the platter of meat. “Charcoal is ready.”
They all sat outside to eat, and Roman listened to the easy conversation rolling around him, answering questions when they were directed at him. Nicole said she had to leave and Grace walked her to her car. When she returned, Shanice asked if she’d gotten anywhere with Nicole. Grace shrugged.
Jasper told a couple of stories about working with a pain-in-the-neck kid at Masterson Ranch, leaving no one to wonder who he meant. Roman was less than happy about it, until others volunteered a few of their own stories of youthful pranks. Brian admitted he and a couple of high school friends stuck wet cotton balls all over the principal’s car during a Midwest winter. “It was three weeks before the weather warmed up enough to get them all off.”
Roman laughed. “Did you get away with it?”
“My conscience beat me up so much I confessed.”
Shanice faced Roman. “I want to hear what happened when you were resuscitated.”
Apparently, they all knew. “Grace did CPR.”
Grace shook her head. “There was a man who helped me, and then the paramedics. Tell them what happened, Roman.”
Was this why Grace had invited him? Roman didn’t like being the center of attention. “I didn’t believe there was a hell until I went there.” They all stared at him.
“That’s it?” Shanice protested. “That’s all you’re going to give us? Come on! We want to hear everything.”
Jasper chuckled. “Better do it. I have a feeling that girl doesn’t give up.”
Roman told them about the demons, the tunnel, the stench, the screams. He looked at Grace. “You and I had just been talking about Jesus. I wouldn’t have thought to scream His name otherwise.” Her face softened.
“Did you see Him?”
“What?” He faced Ashley. “I saw light and felt a hand grab hold of me. I didn’t see a face, but I know who it was.” He looked at Grace again. “I have no doubt Jesus saved me, but I don’t know why He bothered.”
Brian leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees. “He loves you.”
Roman gave him a mocking smile. “You think so?”
“God’s love and Grace’s prayers.” Shanice patted Roman’s knee. “Whatever the reason, it’s clear God’s not done with you yet.”
Jasper had said the same thing. “Well, you all know the Bible better than I do.”
They sat around the fire pit as the sun went down. Ashley had brought fixings for s’mores. Brian talked about camping with the Boy Scouts. Somehow, sometime during the evening, Roman stopped hating the man and felt absorbed into membership of this small group. These people talked easily about Jesus and the power of God.
Grace went inside to put Samuel to bed. Roman thought about following her. Brian was looking at him as though he knew what Roman was trying to hide.
Everyone helped clear the bowls and platters and gather the paper plates and cups. Pitching in, Roman took out the garbage. When he came back, Brian announced he had to leave. Church came early in the morning, and he’d better be wide-awake and ready to teach his band of little brothers and sisters. He extended his hand to Roman. Prince Charming had a firm grip and looked him straight in the eyes. “Let’s get together for lunch sometime and talk.” He produced a card. “My number.”
Roman didn’t want to like him. He tucked the card in his shirt pocket and watched Brian approach Grace. No kiss this time, but they had an audience. They stood close, talking quietly. The intimacy between them stung Roman. They embraced briefly. Brian and Nigel left. Ashley followed soon afterward.
Shanice sat with Roman on the wall. “Beautiful night, isn’t it?” She tilted a look at him. “Please be careful with my friend.”
“I haven’t done anything to earn a warning.”
“It’s the way you look at her when she’s not looking that concerns me.”
Had anyone else noticed, other than Jasper? “Maybe you’re the one who should be careful.”
Shanice didn’t pretend not to understand. “Brian, you mean. Believe me. I’d never do anything to hurt Grace. I’ve done enough damage already.” She stood and said she hoped she’d see him in church the next morning. He said he’d mention it to Jasper. As Shanice walked away, he wondered what damage she’d done and what it had to do with Grace.
Dirty dishes stacked and set aside, Roman poured Jasper a second glass of Napa cabernet. They’d gone to Grace’s church together. Roman had been waiting to hear Jasper’s opinion, but he seemed unusually quiet. “What did you think?”
Jasper shrugged. “Different from what I’m used to, but good sermon. I didn’t see Grace.”
“She was there with Shanice and the others. They go out for lunch every Sunday.” Roman had sat on the opposite side of the auditorium, where he couldn’t see her, knowing he wouldn’t be able to concentrate if she was anywhere close.
Jasper leaned back. “Great steak, by the way. You haven’t lost your touch, Roman. If you ever decide to give up art, you can always go to culinary school and open your own restaurant.”
“This is the first real meal I’ve cooked in months, unless you count a ready-made dish popped into the microwave. Grace usually starts something before she heads home.”
“How are things between you two?”
“She’s doing a great job.”
Jasper gave a soft laugh. “That’s not what I was asking, and you know it.”
“It’s none of your business, but we’re going nowhere.”
“Because that’s the way you want it?”
“Not exactly.”
“What exactly?”
Roman downed his wine. “You know my history with women.”
“There’s a big difference between having sex and having a relationship, my friend.” Jasper’s expression softened. “This is a new thing for you. Listen up. Here’s rule number one. You don’t hook up with a lady like Grace Moore. You spend time with her, see where things go.”
“It might be easier to keep things as they are.”
“Easier?” He shook his head. “You’ve always had attachment issues. That’s part of your history, too. It’s not easy to go through life without love. It’s lonely. It’s painful.”
“How would you know?”
“Observation.”
Roman felt uneasy under his mentor’s perusal. He stood, glaring down at him. “I like Grace. A lot. More than any other woman I’ve ever met. That doesn’t mean I’m in love with her.”
“I remember how you were with Susan.”
Roman swore. “I was a teenager, and just like every other guy who lived at the ranch!”
“I know. You all fell in love with her for a while. You’re looking for what Chet has with Susan. You might just get it.”
Hope was deadly. “They’re one couple in a thousand.”
“Depends on what territory you’re occupying.” Jasper set the wineglass aside. “You don’t go into a relationship thinking about odds. And if you aren’t in love with Grace, I’ll eat my socks.”
Roman stood at the glass wall. Was Grace back from lunch yet? What did women talk about when they got together for lunch?
Jasper joined him. “I’ve been in your shoes. Falling in love is terrifying. You don’t know what’s up or down, and half the time you feel inside out.” He gripped Roman’s arm. “Love is worth it, Bobby Ray. It’s the best part of being human.” He smiled. “‘Faith, hope, and love—and the greatest of these is love.’ It can last forever.”
Roman shook his head. He knew Grace felt something, but did she feel enough to last? She didn’t know him as well as she thought, and he was afraid if she did, that would be the end of any possibilities.
“Be honest with Grace. Tell her how you feel.”
“What if I’m not ready?”
“Then be a stand-up guy and leave her alone. One way or the other, you’re going to have to make up your mind.”
Roman didn’t see Grace after she brought his morning coffee. He had completed several pages of sketches for the new painting, based on Grace’s line. Setting up a tinted canvas, he penciled in the layout. Glancing at the clock, he was surprised it was eleven thirty. Most days, Grace checked in midmorning with messages.
The house was quiet. Roman headed down the hall to the office. Had she gone grocery shopping? Was she off somewhere on errands? She usually informed him when she was leaving the house. Maybe she was having lunch at the cottage.
Grace sat with her elbows on the desk, hands over her eyes. Her posture told him she was upset. “Grace?” She started, but didn’t turn to face him. Roman entered the office. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Everything’s fine.” Her tone said otherwise.
“Okay,” he drawled. “What happened? Brian break up with you?” He could only hope.
Wiping her face quickly, Grace turned. “Brian and I are friends. That’s all.” Her eyes were red and puffy.
“You were hoping for more.”
“I always hope for too much,” she muttered and looked back at her desk. “No messages this morning. A few e-mails you might want to read.”
Roman didn’t move. “What are you hoping for?”
She looked at him, sorrow seeping into her eyes. “Wisdom. Sometimes you have to end a friendship so you can move on.”
Had Shanice come clean about her attraction to Brian? “Your best friend?”
“One of my best. I trusted her.” She shrugged. “Sometimes people aren’t who you think they are.” She gave him a beseeching look. “But I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Well, if you change your mind, I’m here.” He’d never made such an offer before and realized he sounded like Jasper. He winced inwardly, knowing he was ill-equipped to ask the right questions and give sage advice. Especially to a woman.
“Thanks, Roman.” She smiled, her eyes moistening. “God is going to have to work this out.”
Grace stopped by the studio an hour later to bring him a sandwich. When she approached the easel, he shook his head. “No peeking until it’s finished.”
“Am I going to like it?”
“Depends on whether you see what’s in it.”
“You’re being very mysterious.” She thought for a moment. “Ah. Hidden pictures.”
“Actually—” he wiped his hands on a stained towel—“it’s my first landscape.”
She chuckled. “I’ll believe that when I see it!”
That evening, Grace spooned chicken salad onto a plate, made herself a cup of tea, and checked Facebook on her phone. There was a trending article about the graffiti in a pedestrian tunnel in LA. The writer didn’t want the graffiti covered. Though it lacked the distinctive signature of the Bird, it might have been done by the longtime infamous and unidentified West Coast graffiti artist.
Something clicked inside Grace. There was a link to a related article, this one including a picture of a demon’s face. Several citizens had been interviewed, all saying they didn’t like walking through that tunnel with grotesque faces and flames at the end. “It feels like you’re walking into hell.”
Again, that click.
Opening her laptop, Grace did a search on the Bird. Numerous hits came up, including speculation about work in Europe. People had been trying to figure out the Bird’s identity for more than a decade. One article reported that his signature, BRD in black letters made to look like a blackbird in flight, always appeared in the lower left corner of his pieces. Grace’s heart began to pound. She remembered the living room wall at the Mastersons’.
Grace pulled up images of the Bird’s work. A man mooning a surveillance camera. Petroglyphs of women in high-heeled, red-soled shoes carrying shopping bags and strutting along the walls of a subway tunnel. A pregnant girl wearing a Save the Whales T-shirt as she opened the front door of a Planned Parenthood clinic. Two peace protesters in a street brawl. A priest with his foot planted on a treasure chest. She scrolled down to the demon faces in the pedestrian tunnel.
Clicking on one photo, she sent it to Roman’s office e-mail address, intending to print it out in the morning.
Lord, I know it’s Roman. What do I do with this information?
Grace barely slept. When she entered the main house the next morning, heavy metal music blasted from the bedroom housing Roman’s exercise equipment. Curious, she went down on her knees and pulled the black sketchbook out from under the couch. Flipping through the pages quickly, she found the last pages covered with demon faces. She shuddered as she put the sketchbook back.
She went to the office, where she did another computer search, printing out articles on the Bird and pictures of his work. Putting all the papers into a file folder, she headed down the hall to talk to Roman.
She froze in the doorway, seeing Roman straddling the weight bench, his biceps and back muscles bulging, his skin glistening. She took a slow breath and tapped on the door. He didn’t hear her over the rock music as he continued repetitions with the metal cable pulley system. He might be the one sweating, but she was beginning to feel the heat. She walked over and shut off his music.
“Hey! You’re early.”
“I’m on time.”
He wiped his face with a towel, wincing when he lifted one leg over the bench and stood. “What’s up?”
His discarded T-shirt lay on the floor. She was afraid to look him in the eye, worried what he’d see. “Can we talk?”
“Can we? I hope so.” He flipped the damp towel around his neck. “We did a lot of that on the road.”
The scent of healthy male sweat only served to make her more nervous. She wasn’t sure where to direct her gaze. Something about him roused dangerous sensations inside her. She should’ve stayed in the office instead of rushing down here to ask if he was the Bird. She should’ve waited until later, after he showered and dressed and went to work in his studio. Did she want to know more about him?
Roman swiped the T-shirt off the floor and pulled it on inside out. “Is this better?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
His breathing hadn’t eased. She noticed the pulse in his throat. Was it from his workout, or was he feeling some of what she was? She had to break the tension. “Never mind. It can wait.” She turned and headed for the door.
“How about this evening?”
Confused, she looked back. Was he asking her to stay late?
Roman rubbed the towel over his damp hair. He tilted his head, studying her. How much of what she felt showed right now? She wanted him to touch her, but if he reached out, she’d run. He came closer, holding the two ends of the towel he’d hung around his neck. “Take the day off, Grace. Let’s talk over dinner. Six o’clock. I’ll cook.”
Dinner after work hours? “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
His hands tightened on the towel. “We haven’t really talked since we got back from the road trip.”
They’d talked, but she knew what he meant. They had stopped digging around inside one another. It was an opening she needed. “All right.”
“We can put everything on the table.” His mouth tipped slightly.
“Everything?”
He walked around her. “You can tell me what has you so riled up.” He glanced at the file in her hand. “I’d better get cleaned up.”
Grace didn’t breathe normally until Roman went into his bedroom and closed the door.
What everything had he meant?