Chapter 33Joseph leaned against the grill of my shiny new Altima and grinned broadly. He was alone. As he walked over to the passenger side, I motioned behind the wheel. He didn’t argue.
“How does it handle?” I asked as we pulled out.
“Like a dream. It’s fantastic. Haven’t you driven it?”
“Not yet. I bought it over the phone.”
“Jeez, nobody does that.”
“William Greyhorse did.”
He asked questions about Santa Fe—the show and the town—on the drive back to Rolling Hills. As I watched him out of the corner of my eye, I was glad I hadn’t taken the art student to my room in Santa Fe. Win or lose…this was the man I wanted. Remembering what Jason had said, I opened my mouth twice to make my move. And twice I closed it without uttering a word.
* * * *
Monday morning, Joseph seemed okay, but
