He leaned against a wall, crossed his arms. Angel cocked her head to the side, studying him. She could understand the need to tear something down and start over. But maybe not to that extreme.

“She’d always tell me I was going to grow up to be a big deal, that I’d play ball for the Bronx Bolts. That was her dream for me. Until she was gone.”

“And here you are. What happened to her? Did she pass away?”

“No. She got tired of cleaning up after my pop’s gambling and cheating. When I started to get in trouble in middle school, she told me I was throwing away my gifts, that I was ugly inside … that I was a loser, just like Pops. Then she left.”

Angel was quiet for a minute. She was glad Jose had never known his father and so could not be hurt by him. She could easily picture Duke as a child. To be abandoned by his mother? After all she’d heard tonight, her heart ached for him.

“Do you talk to her now?”

“No. She left. I’m not letting her back in, even if she wants it.”

“She was wrong, Duke. You’re beautiful, inside and out.” She blushed but kept going. “You’ve made something of yourself. I mean, you’re pitching for the Bronx Bolts!”

“But what happens if I can’t pitch? What then? Back to being a loser.”

“You said that before. Do you really think that?”

He blushed and stood up straight. “Nah. I’m just worried about getting back in shape in time.” He strode over to a staircase, his limp barely noticeable. “Hey, I’m gonna run upstairs for a minute. There’s a pool out back, if you want to wander around. Or, if you want anything, the kitchen’s that way.” He pointed. “I have a good bottle of red open on the counter, and there are wineglasses in one of the cupboards.”

She watched as Duke easily mounted the stairs two at a time, despite the large amount of tequila he’d drunk earlier, and favoring one leg. His shape was certainly fine. The gray suit pants he wore were stretched taut over his flexing muscles. The gluteus maximus muscles. I will ace that part of my anatomy test.

In the spacious steel-and-wood kitchen, she checked her messages, sending off a quick update to Gabriela, purposefully ignoring the message from the doctor. I’ll deal with him tomorrow.

Angel found the wine and, after some searching, spotted the wineglasses on a high shelf. She took off her fur wrap and high heels and dropped them by the table, then found a step stool to reach the glasses. She’d just mounted the top step when she heard Duke enter the kitchen.

“Be careful! That stool is not the greatest,” Duke said, coming up behind her.