He’s silent. I stand awkwardly. We never talked about girls. There was the one time we were fifteen, maybe sixteen, that he declared Alejandra was off-limits. Aria is the first female I’ve spoken of since.
“What happened, Dario? Carlotta was committed to your recovery. She seemed to care a great deal—” I stop speaking at the sight of dirt near the door to the walk-in closet. “Do you fucking have another animal?”
Dario’s eyes fly to the closet then me. He drops his head. “Aye, sí, Dominic. Should I move?”
I point a finger at him. “Stop it, Dario! I’m not throwing you out on the street. Last time you had an animal, I returned home to broken glass all over the den.”
He pivots in his wheelchair, holding up his hand. “Okay, okay! This time it’s a stray puppy. Guarantee, I’ll break the puta soon. Give me a chance to—”
“What the fuck happened to your hand?”
He whips his palm around then gulps. “I-I, fuck, it’s embarrassing to admit, hermano. I bit myself. I think a therapy dog would help.”
Fuming, I back toward the door. “Get the animal out of the fucking closet, Dario. Take ‘em for a walk. I’m headed to work. At this rate, Yasiel will have dropped off my breakfast and got into some other mayhem. We can discuss this later.”
Outside, I whack my blazer across the clay tile. I pull my cellphone out of my slacks and search for Doctor Anderson’s number. Nothing comes up.
“Fuck!” I still haven’t updated the contact list of the new iPhone. I dial Carlotta’s number from memory, and not because of Dario’s suspicion that I had anything more than a working relationship with her.
“Hey, Dom.” She answers on the first ring. “How’s Dario?”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I recall how Carlotta had agreed to return to the house a while back. My hermano had attempted to choke her when she arrived. My groveling hadn’t been sufficient to get her back, though she had needed a job.
“Still could use anger management. How are you?” I shove a hand through my hair, clinging to the manners Mami taught us.
“Better than you, I’m sure.” She chortles. “I found a family in need of respite for an ailing grandma to celebrate their anniversary in Peru. Maybe they won’t come back too soon.”
“Bueno.” I nod then get down to business. “Can you text me Dr. Anderson’s number if you still have it? Also, um . . .”
“Hesitance from the great attorney Dominic Alvarez. Shocking.”
“You’re telling me. I’m shocked right now. Have you ever witnessed Dario bite himself?”
“Like his fingernails?”
“No. Like his fucking body.” I rub the back of my neck, rattled by the entire ordeal.
“I’m no shrink, Dom, but I worked with a young lady who bit herself to relieve stress. She also had a shoddy upbringing. Depression. Abuse.”
“Okay, I’ve never heard of such a thing.” I quickly thank her for texting me the number and hang up. In the driver’s seat of my ride, I fist the steering wheel in contemplation of how my parents raised us. For every bit of light streaming through our Mami, Papi was the darkness. Papi never had a problem with me, though. He could appreciate my aggressive nature—captain of the soccer team, lover of the ladies. Even the devil plays nice sometimes.
Chapter Forty-Two
Aria
A few days later, I coast on the elliptical at the local gym. My eyes fall from the row of flat screens bolted to the wall to my cellphone in the machine’s holder.
“Strange, Dom stopped responding,” I mutter to myself. Our stream of text messages had kept me devoted to the “beauty is pain” bs while I worked out.
A hard smack resounds against my ass. “Ari’,” Roslyn snaps. “Don’t go working off that ass.”
The mirrors lining the wall in front of me show a few patrons beginning to watch our interaction. I slow the machine to a pause. “Don’t have strangers thinking they can walk up and whack me on the ass, too.”
“Shit, let them try. Until recently, I was the only one spanking you.” With a devious smile, she orders, “Who has been spanking you?”
“What does spanking have to do with sex?”
“Because if he isn’t smacking ass while fucking then you don’t want him, mami.”
I climb off the equipment as the woman behind Roslyn stares at us, mortified.
“Ha! Are you seeing Francisco? I’m not in the mood for our triannual intervention. Besides, I’m the only one who gains five pounds in Twinkies and brownie batter when he breaks your heart.”
“Aria, I’m seeing someone new.”
I settle on a weight bench and lift a twenty-pound dumbbell discarded nearby, then set it back down. “New as in, the guys we met at the club a few weeks ago—”
“Old news.” Roslyn squats down, claiming the dumbbell I had. “Hey, you’re supposed to live vicariously through me. My new guy wears a uniform for a living.”
I head to the weight rack and heft a five pounder.
“Ari’, I’m not sure which I should wish when it comes to you. Any ol’ Jose or a Francisco. Aye, I pray you meet a Francisco who screws you so good your sanity is tested!”
“You pray that I . . . wow.” I trail off, visualizing Dominic. Maybe she’s on to something.
“What’s that face? Huh!” Roslyn hollers, picking up speed.
“You’re too loud,” I whisper.
“You met a unicorn dick!”
“Girl, we are too close to the childcare center. If a little kid asks his or her momma what a unicorn penis—”
“No, not penis. Dick! Add some baritone to your voice.” Her arm curls increase another notch. “Here are synonyms: super dick, legendary, Francisco!”
“Okay, I’m dating someone. Cease with the San Fran, or you’re likely to forget uniform guy.” I clear my throat. A silly grin spills across my cheeks. “Guess who!”
“Shit, mi primo, Carlos?”
“No!”
“Darian?”
I shake my head, resting my dumbbell, first rep completed.
“Juan, Chuey?”
“Stop name dropping your cousins, Ros.”
“Whatever, mamacita. It has to be a Sanchez behind that glow.”
I laugh, my eyes trailing across the room, landing on a green gaze that sends an inferno across the surface of my skin. Dominic stopped answering. Now, he’s here.
“Hey, let’s do the Zumba class.” Roslyn nudges her chin, unaware of my dilemma. “Also, who’s the guy?”
Brain going mush, I gesture toward the glass windows. “I’ll meet you in—”
“You going to the restroom?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll—”
“No meeting in the ladies’ room today, Ros. Meet me in class. I have to uggh . . . you know . . .”
“Oh?”
My eyebrows clamp, and I realize what I’ve inferred. “I’ll be back.”
As I walk away from her, I lower my head and submit a shameful prayer.