Twenty volunteers had shown up throughout the morning, more than Virginia had anticipated. So many more, she'd had to send a few of them back out to the local hardware store for additional paintbrushes.

The locals teased her about her young fan base. Apparently, the neighborhood kids had gone door-to-door signing people up, not taking "no" for an answer. Virginia's heart had swelled upon hearing it, and a little of that background nervousness was chipped away, the weight floating off her shoulders, providing some welcome relief. With this kind of support, they would for sure be a success.

She glanced up at the clock. Noon already? She was going to have to work on feeding all these people. Turning to the two women next to her, she let them know she was taking a break, and then headed to her office to get her purse.

As she scanned the room, she vowed not to search for him, but . . . yup, there he was. Spinelli, Dominique, and another man were all in a line, having a good ole time by the looks of it, laughing it up while they completed the lower section of the wall left untouched by the men on scaffolding ahead of them. It did nothing to improve her mood when the timing dawned on her. He was now finishing the third hour of a two-hour debt.

And still painting.

And he had taken off his shirt.

Damn. Hard lines and ridges formed across his back and up his arms as he rolled up the wall, only to relax as different muscles engaged on the roll down. It was mesmerizing watching those muscles tighten and release as he was rolling up . . . rolling down . . . rolling up . . . rolling—

Her foot caught on a stray drop sheet, throwing her into an awkward three step run to prevent a face plant. Pulling it together, she ducked her head and looked around while muttering, "Shouldn't walk and ogle at the same time, Virginia."

Luckily, no one else had noticed.

Stomping the rest of the way to her office door, she forced her focus onto lunch. Grabbing her purse, she decided the deli on 103rd was a good choice, but first she needed to tell Dominique she was going out. That involved, of course, passing him. Glancing over at the group of men again, she prayed Spinelli had moved on or taken a break. Nope.

This is insane. Just go over there. Squaring her shoulders, she crossed the gym, giving Spinelli a wide berth. Her intention was to not look at that hot body on the way by . . . or to at least be discreet about it.

He turned his head just in time to catch her in the act. The grin was quick, but the cocky tone was slow when he said, "Try to control yourself, Ginny."

Her own words! She slammed her eyes shut with a silent groan. Ignore him, she told herself. With a few more steps, she'd made it. "Dominique, I'm heading out to grab lunch for everyone. I'll be back soon."

"Okay, Virginia, that's great. I'm getting pretty hungry."

She laughed. Dominique was always hungry. "That doesn't surprise—"

"Need some help with that?"

She stopped laughing. Lifted her chin. Crossed her arms as she pivoted around to face Spinelli. "You have paid your bet. It's been more than two hours."

"That's no problem." He put down the roller and called to one of the other men to take over.

"Fine." After all, she probably could use an extra set of arms. She marched toward the front door, hearing him fall into step behind her. At the entrance she swung around to state the obvious. "I'll drive . . . since . . ."

His arms were above his head, in the midst of pulling his T-shirt on. Wow. The view was even better close-up.

As the white cotton glided over his face, he looked right at her, catching her at it again. A knowing smile eased onto his face. "You're not regretting what you chose as the bet payment, are you? Because I'm always willing to renegotiate."

"Shut up," she muttered, stepping out into the heat of the day.

His laughter swirled behind her as he followed, a deep rhythm that sent a thrill rushing up her spine and a smile to her face, despite her own exasperation.

) l (

Mark took a deep breath as he looked around the interior of the Mustang. There was something special about the smell of an older car. A rich aroma of aged leather and wood rose up to greet him, but it was much more than that. It was the manifestation of many years of well-cared-for ownership—the older scents fading and hers emerging.

He spotted the police badge hanging on the mirror and could guess who it belonged to. A thin piece of elastic on her sun visor held a picture of him and Virginia sitting next to each other on lawn chairs, each toasting the cameraman with a beer in hand.

Now that they were alone, he asked the question that had been on his mind since he'd arrived. "Do you want to explain how you became a gym owner . . . on your salary?"

Virginia's head ripped around with an angry glare as she stabbed the key into the ignition. "Yes, we all don't have the unlimited access to funds like you do. Some of us have to make a decent living."

Well, wasn't that a direct kick to the balls.

An uncomfortable silence spread between them.

"Sorry," she said quietly. "I didn't mean that."

Yes you did. He looked over at her but kept his mouth shut.

Giving a quick turn of her wrist, the engine sprang to life with a low rumble, and she maneuvered the car out of its parking spot. "Are you really that interested?"

"Wouldn't ask if I wasn't."

More silence. Then, "Dominique is the one who runs it. I stop in once a day to see if I can help, pay the bills, et cetera. And I work out with him sometimes. He keeps me on my toes." There was a long sigh, as if she had resigned herself to the pain that was about to follow. "Jack bought the building before he died. He left everything to me: the money, the building, his house . . . even this car."

"He had great taste in cars," Mark said. Second only to his taste in women, he mentally added.

"I sold the house. It had too many painful memories. And it would have always been Jack's house, never mine and Janine's. I had no idea how much money he had since we didn't talk about it. Jack's parents are wealthy, although Jack's money was not from them. His was earned, as we both know, in not so legitimate ways."

She glanced his way and he nodded, letting her know he wasn't taking it personally, encouraging her to continue.

"We walked a beat in this area while we were partners. Our district was the testing ground for a program putting higher ranking officers out among the community. More stations are adopting it now, mainly because of what's been happening in other areas of the country. Plus the fact that it works. It was a great idea."

He could hear the pride in her voice. "Yours?"

"Jack's." She smiled. "The people here loved him. He was so good with them." She glanced up at the picture. "Half the population in Southeast lives below the poverty line. A lot of kids go through the system over and over again. We couldn't help them as much as we wanted. It was always so frustrating. Jack's dream was to provide a place to get the kids off the streets and away from the gangs. He'd talked about this building for a while. I always considered it a fantasy, never imagining he could afford it. So you see, the money wasn't for him . . . It was for them."

A deep, shaky breath gave away the emotional strain she was under. "I had to see it through to the end, finish what he started. It was an abandoned unit with a lot of drug activity. Squatters had moved in. Needless to say, the people in the neighborhood were ecstatic when I took it over and started to renovate. Some say they are going to throw a parade in my honor."

A light laugh followed, making him smile. His eyes floated over her face, noting the resolve. He wondered if this was a good idea, making her relive it all, but he wanted to hear details of her life. Like a starving man, he'd take what he could get, so the selfish bastard in him let her go on.

"We knew Dominique from walking our beat. He used to train in the park two blocks over from the gym, a filthy place, riddled with needles and used condoms. It's disgusting really. Mothers won't take their children there anymore. The city has approved our suggestion to set up a substation, but the park needs new equipment, better maintenance, all the things that cost money, and that's not in their budget. If the gym is successful and financially secure, it will be our next project." She crossed two fingers on her right hand and held them in the air. "Since I'm a police officer and our programs are targeting youth, we were able to file for non-profit status through the California Police Activities League. That's a big help."

Putting her left indicator on, Virginia paused for a moment, checking traffic.

She had it all worked out, didn't she? He was sitting beside an amazing woman, no doubt about it.

Once merged onto the new road, she continued, "We would see Dominique over there with this makeshift punching bag. We knew then that his goal was to one day make the Olympic team. Jack was a big boxing fan and took Dominique under his wing, secretly helping his mother out so that she could buy some of the equipment he needed. Jack was confident Dominique would make it. I think it even amazed Dominique that someone would have so much faith in him. He worked all the harder to please him. They were very close. It's sad that Jack didn't get to see the amazing work he's doing here. He would have been so proud of . . ."

From the tremor in her voice, he knew she was struggling. The urge to comfort her overwhelmed him, making him reach out and rub her shoulder. "Sorry, I didn't want you to get upset."

Green eyes shiny with welled-up tears flashed his way.

Mark hadn't thought it possible to envy a dead man, but at that moment he was jealous of Jack Kelly. His eyes returned to the photo of the two of them above her head. They must have been at a barbeque or a picnic, given the activity in the background. Sitting cheek-to-cheek, hands intertwined in a I'm-never-letting-go fashion, the smiles on their faces were so wide Mark swore he would be able to hear their laughter if he listened hard enough.

Reflecting on his own life, he wondered who would mourn him when he was gone. His sister? Not likely. The only thing she would miss was the free ride she'd had over the last decade. Not that he could blame her. They hadn't been all that close, not since the fallout over the death of their parents.

Yes, there were plenty of pictures of him out there, from the staged photo ops at functions he'd attended—most of which included a woman but rarely the same one—to the unwanted paparazzi shots. But not one of those frozen moments displayed the deep connection obvious in the photo cherished by the woman sitting beside him.

With a quick swipe of her hand across both cheeks, Virginia shook her head. "No, it's okay. His story deserves to be told. We should talk about him; otherwise, it's as if he never existed. I just need to suck it up."

Taking a deep breath, she went on, "Dominique is a great boy, a man really. He will be eighteen in two months. He's only been in unsanctioned fights so far, to gain the experience, but he has won every one of them. He wants to have his first amateur fight in January. Once he turns eighteen, he can take the training to become a certified USA boxing coach. If we build up our program and have enough registered boxers, we can have sanctioned shows at the gym. It's wishful thinking of course, but you never know. I'm still amazed we've gotten this far."

They had arrived at the deli. She pulled into a parking spot, turned the car off, and turned to look at him. "That about sums it up . . . any questions?"

"If Jack's parents are wealthy, why didn't he ask them for money?"

"They are wonderful people, but I don't think they liked the idea of him becoming a cop. They were hoping for something more along the lines of a doctor or lawyer. I think Jack was trying to make it on his own, to prove to them he could do it. Unfortunately, good intentions don't always lead to good decisions."

"Why didn't he tell you about the money?"

She squinted out the front window. "We were partners for five years, but it was none of my business what he did with his personal life. I leaned on him when Tom left. I'm not sure that was fair to Jack, but when I needed him, he was there for me and I was grateful. I wasn't about to start harassing him over what he did in his spare time." Her voice dropped down to a whisper. "But he knew I would have been disappointed with him working for the Chilvati family."

Wham. Another direct kick to the family jewels.

Cutting off the awkward silence, she gave his arm a swat. "Come on, Spinelli, no slacking off now," she joked as she opened the door and stepped out into the oppressive heat. 

END OF CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

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