Chapter Two

August 2005

"Hello," I replied.

She bit her bottom lip, then said, "I'm Stephanie."

"Ranger." I held out my hand, and the second we grasped hands to shake, I could feel sparks shoot up my arm. I think she felt it, too, because she jerked her hand back almost as soon as we touched.

Hector stepped in front of me and said, "Hi, Stephanie. I'm Hector."

She blinked in surprise and said, "Oh, wow, there are two of you!" She shook his hand and smiled warmly at him. "It's nice to meet both of you."

"Steph, they're the new bounty hunters for the high bonds. Ranger, Hector, Stephanie is Vinnie's cousin who does the low bonds," Connie interjected.

"Please don't hold my family against me," she said, smiling impishly.

"No worries, Babe," I assured her. Where the fuck did that come from?

We left shortly after that, and Hector started laughing when we were safely in the car. "Holy shit, what was that?"

"Shut up."

"You had the weirdest expression when you saw her."

"Shut. Up." I glared at him until I was satisfied he wouldn't speak again.

He continued to glance over at me and silently chuckle to himself the entire way to the new building. After I parked in the underground garage, we took another tour of all the floors. On a previous visit, I left a cheap card table and four chairs on the fifth floor near the elevator, and we reviewed the rough sketches I had been working on.

I planned out areas for a gun range, a gym, a big office for Hector with all the IT crap he would need, a monitoring room, and offices for several people.

"So we could divide the seventh floor into two apartments, one for each of us, and the leftover space could be used for storage and future expansion if we need it," I explained as I pointed it out on the drawings. "On the sixth floor, we could create another couple of nice apartments; one for Lester if he wants to join us, and another we can eventually use for live-in domestic and building maintenance help. We could also have an industrial kitchen and laundry facilities if we had live-in building maintenance and housekeeping services. That way, eventually, we could keep everything in-house."

He nodded thoughtfully while continuing to look over my drawings. "What are these areas?" he asked, pointing to a different section on the paper.

"I thought we could have several efficiency apartments for employees to stay in, a safe house to stash someone in, or things like that."

"The entire floor?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I shrugged. "It was an idea. If we hire mostly ex-military, they're used to living and working in the same place. This could be like a stepping stone to the real world, especially if they start working here directly after getting out of the service."

Hector thought about it for a moment, then smiled. "I think you'll be a good boss to have."

"I won't be your boss, Viejo."

"Oh really? So I shouldn't call you Jefe?"

I rolled my eyes. We walked around the building and talked about the possibilities. Images of Stephanie broke my focus all afternoon: her smile, her mesmerizing eyes, her soft, husky voice, and her smokin' hot body. While I was no stranger to beautiful women, I'd never reacted to one the way I had when she entered that dinky bonds office and I had touched her hand. I took a deep breath and pushed thoughts of her out of my mind. I had too many things on my plate to waste time thinking of a woman, and my life decidedly did not lend itself to relationships right now. Probably not ever.

Later that night, I called Tank at his house in Georgia. We weren't much for pleasantries or small talk, but time and time again, we'd had each other's back when shit went down, and we knew it would always be that way. I told him we bought the building for our new company, and he planned to pack up his stuff and drive to Trenton in a couple of weeks.

After hanging up, I talked to Hector more about the company structure. Since we didn't have any employees yet, it wasn't crucial to nail it down, but I wanted to make sure Hector still didn't want to be part of the leadership.

"Nah, Mano, I'm not cut out for that boss shit. I don't like having bosses and don't want to be anyone's boss. I'd rather most people didn't even know I own part of the company," he said when I asked him.

"So, just leave you alone to do the computer and electronic shit, and it's all good?"

He nodded. "Sounds good to me."

We discussed how many employees we would hire and when and decided to table the topic until Tank arrived. We still needed to find an architect and a contractor to oversee the building renovations, so I called our sister Celia, an interior designer in New York City. I put the call on speaker phone, and when she answered, I said my customary, "Yo."

"Hey, little brother, how are ya?" she asked.

"Good. I'm here with Hec, too."

"Hey, Hec!"

"Hi, Celia," he answered.

"Cels, we have some news, and I also have some questions, and I might need to ask you a favour," I said.

"Ooh, sounds interesting. What's up?" she asked.

"Well, first, Hec and I moved to Trenton. We're going to open a security company. We've already purchased a building, and an old army buddy is coming to join us to help me run it."

"I knew you moved; Hec called and told Mama and Papa," she replied. "Are you gonna come to New York to visit me soon?"

"Probably not," I chuckled. "But let me finish. We need to renovate the building for our new company, and since you're a designer, I thought you might know some reputable architects and contractors nearby who'd be willing to take on this work for us. And maybe we could hire you to do the building, too?"

"Oh, wow. First, I'd be happy to help you do the building. I even have architects and contractors I work with regularly. I have a couple of projects on the go, but I'm sure we could work out the timeline depending on your needs. What's your budget? What sort of renovations are required?"

"Well, I wondered if you might be willing to come here this weekend. We could walk through the building and give you our ideas, and then you could maybe advise me on what would be possible and what to expect budget-wise. What do you think?"

"I can probably make that work. I'm busy on Saturday, but I could come on Sunday. You guys can buy me lunch, and then we can do a walk-through. Deal?"

I chuckled. "I'd be happy to buy you lunch wherever you want."

"I'm thinking…Italian," she said with a laugh. "Find a good little Italian place, and I'll be there at one."

"See you Sunday, Cels," Hector interjected. I told her I'd call her on Saturday with a place to meet us, and we hung up.

Hector smiled. "Hopefully, she'll have some good ideas for us."

On Sunday, Hector texted Celia with the address of a neighbourhood Italian restaurant we'd found called Rossini's, a charming place whose website boasted of recent renovations and an all-new menu. The menu we reviewed online had a good mix of standards Celia and Hector would like and the healthier options I preferred.

Hector and I were seated at a small table near the back of the restaurant when Celia entered at precisely one o'clock. She spotted us and gestured in our direction to the hostess before hurrying over.

"Hi, guys!" she said, smiling. "Give me a hug!"

After hugging and kissing her cheek, I pulled out her chair and sat back down, my back against the wall.

Hector stood to hug her, and she touched her finger to the skin under his eye, over his teardrop tattoo. "I hate this, you know, Hec."

He kissed her cheek. "I know, chica."

"So, Cels, how've you been lately? How's Jackson?" I asked her.

"We broke up. He's an asshole," she said as the waiter came over. "Oh, hi," she greeted him. "Can I please get a glass of water and an iced tea?"

As he looked at each of us, Hector asked, "Can I please get some water and a Corona?"

"Just a glass of water, please," I added.

Immediately after the waiter left to get our drinks, Celia turned to us and said, "So, tell me all about your new business. And why you decided to move to Trenton of all places. If you were moving back to Jersey, I would have thought you'd go home to Newark."

I looked at Hector. This was his news to spill, not mine. "Well, I met someone," he began. "And I want to see how it goes."

"You met someone? How? Where? I thought you were a bachelor for life," she exclaimed, pausing to smile at the waiter who returned to the table with our drinks.

"Thank you," Hector said, accepting his beer. "I thought I was, too. But I met Juan in South Beach; he lives here and can't leave Trenton. So, I talked to Carlos about a business opportunity, and he agreed it could be a good fit for us. We moved here, found a building, and just bought it."

"Wow. I want to meet Juan. What about you, little brother?" she smirked, turning to me. "Any new loves for you, too?"

"No."

"What about Stephanie?" my brother teased in a sing-song voice. "You sure seemed to like her."

Celia raised her eyebrow. "Stephanie? Who's she?"

"No one. We just met her once. I barely spoke a complete sentence to her."

"Yeah, but you liked her," Hector insisted.

"Of course I don't. I don't even know her."

"Cels, you shoulda seen the look on his face when we met her. It's like he was dumbstruck!" Hector crowed.

"Knock it off. I don't do relationships. We met her once. Anyway, we're here to talk about business," I tried to redirect my siblings, who lived to tease me. I was always the quiet one, which seemed to serve as a personal challenge to my more loquacious brothers and sisters.

Celia and Hector looked at each other, grinning, but they stopped torturing me. I didn't want to talk about Stephanie; hell, I didn't even want to think about her. But she kept creeping into my thoughts, no matter how determined I was to keep her out. No woman had ever had such an impact on me—not even the woman I married when she lied and told me her baby was mine. I married Rachel to give her my name and military benefits, but when the doctor gave us a due date that was two months earlier than it should have been, she confessed that she lied and knew she was already pregnant during our one-night stand. I had the marriage annulled due to fraud, and I've never seen her again.

That was one reason I'd avoided relationships since, but it's not the main reason. I just didn't want to be accountable to anyone. I wanted the freedom to make my own decisions without regard to anyone else, and so far, that life suited me just fine.

"Alright, so tell me about the business," Celia requested.

"It's a security company. We'll do business and residential alarm systems, monitoring, bodyguarding and personal security, bond enforcement, et cetera," I replied.

"What's et cetera?" she asked.

"We're not sure yet," Hector laughed. "There will probably be a lot of different scenarios that arise, and we're not going to limit ourselves."

"Huh. Well, it sounds like a good fit for you both. I'm starving." She took a sip of her iced tea and then opened her menu. Taking her cue, Hector and I opened ours to decide on lunch.

While Hector and Celia ordered a margarita pizza to share, I decided to get the minestrone. While we waited for our lunches, Celia said, "Tell me about the building."

Hector started. "It's got seven floors and a basement, close to the downtown area. About fifty-five thousand feet, plus an underground garage."

"Not bad," she said. "How do you envision using all that space?"

"We need a gun range and a gym," I replied. "I'd like the top floor to be made into apartments for Hector and me, plus some storage. The sixth floor would be two more apartments, plus an industrial kitchen and laundry area. The fifth floor would have offices, cubicles, and a large space for monitoring our clients' cameras. I thought the fourth floor could be entirely devoted to smaller efficiency apartments—maybe a mix of one- and two-bedrooms that some employees could share. We need some conference rooms and a medical suite, too."

"So, the first through third floors need to fit a medical suite, a gun range, a gym, and conference rooms? It's zoned for mixed residential and commercial, right?" At my nod, she continued. "I can't wait to see it all."

We chatted about the family until our lunches arrived, and we dug in while Celia told us about everything that had been going on in her life. She tried to pry into Hector's love life, and other than promising her he'd introduce Juan to the family when he was ready, he was pretty tight-lipped.

After lunch, we drove Celia back to the building that would house RangeMan. When she got a good look at the red brick building, she smiled. "I'm going to have so much fun with this," she said, her eyes sparkling.

We showed her around the entire building, starting from the top floor. I told her my ideas for two luxury apartments for Hector and myself and another for Lester on the sixth floor.

"Les is part of the business, too?" she asked.

I nodded. "I'm pretty sure. His four years are up with the Rangers at the end of the year, and he's been trying to figure out his next move."

"It's turning out to be a real family business," she smiled. "I have so many ideas for your apartments."

We toured the rest of the building, and she took notes as we explained what we'd like to add to each space. "You should consult with a range designer," she said. "Very few architects can also design a range. I know the architect I normally work with would be out of his depth with that. But you can hire a range designer to work with the architect and contractor to ensure it adheres to current regulations."

"How do you know so much about it?" I was curious.

"I'm a certified professional in my field, Carlos, not just some Pinterest-educated decorator with a paint can. I may not design ranges, but I am aware of the laws and regulations in my industry."

I draped my arm across her shoulder and squeezed. "I know you're a professional, Cels. That's why we called you."

She smiled. "Thank you."

Hector asked, "Do you know any range designers or firms?"

"Not off the top of my head, but I can talk to Mark—the architect I'd recommend for you—and see if he knows of someone."

We walked back up to the fifth floor and sat around the card table we'd set up. Celia asked many questions regarding our budget, our must-haves versus our nice-to-haves, the amenities we wanted immediately and the things that could wait until we were more established. She wrote it all down, promising to get in touch with an architect and contractor who'd be available to do this sort of project in the timeframe we required. I gave her a copy of our blueprints, and then we walked her down to the garage where Hector had parked her car.

"I'll be in touch as soon as possible," she said before waving and motoring out of the garage.