How much trouble could a thirteen-year-old boy get into? That was the question on Maria's mind as she left the school, Joey in tow.

"Three days suspension? Fighting in the hallways?" She knew her voice was shrill. She couldn't help it. "I had to leave work this afternoon, which means I not only don't get paid, I don't get any tips."

Joey looked up at her, his lower lip curled defiantly. "Those guys started it."

"I don't care who started it. Somebody always starts it. Next time somebody starts it, you walk away, do you hear me?"

He shrugged, scraping the toe of his sneaker against the cement while she searched through her purse for her keys. She glanced over at Joey and sighed.

"And stop scraping your foot like that. Do you know how much I paid for those shoes?"

Joey just gave her a look like he hated her, and got in the car.

She wasn't getting through. He was tuning her out. And she was deathly afraid that no matter what she did, he was headed down the same path as Tito. Tito had just turned eighteen when he was arrested. A few months younger, and he would have been in the juvenile justice system. Instead, he'd been tried as an adult, and was serving a mandatory sentence on a drug charge. He'd sworn he hadn't been involved, that he had been picked up just because he was in the building when the drug bust went down. The lawyer their mother had hired said it helped that Tito wasn't actually a member of the gang, although he'd been on the fringes and was headed that direction. The lawyer had thought he could get him off with probation. But some hotshot young prosecutor from the State Attorney's office had had other ideas. She pressed her hand to her forehead.

She'd take Joey back to the restaurant with her. She'd already missed the lunch rush, but hopefully there would be some business from the early dinner crowd before her shift ended. It was Wednesday, so they'd spend the evening at St. Theresa's. But what would she do with him the rest of the week? Thursday, Friday, and Monday. There was no way she could miss that many shifts. She doubted her boss would want her dragging her thirteen-year-old brother along to work with her three days in a row. And she sure didn't want to lose this job. But leaving Joey at home on his own was out of the question. He'd be out the door and on a bus, headed back to the old neighborhood and looking for trouble five minutes after she left.

She was still trying to figure it out as she was serving food at St. Theresa's that evening. When one of the regulars shuffled up, she was barely able to conjure up a smile.

She jumped when she felt a strong hand close over hers.

"You look about a million miles away from here tonight." It was Ritchie.

Maria pulled her hand back, startled by the little tremor that had shot up her arm in tiny shock waves when he touched her.

"It's nothing," she said. The last thing she wanted to do was start spilling out all her troubles to the guy she'd been having secret fantasies about when she couldn't sleep.

"I'm taking you both out for coffee when we get done here."

"Sorry, Joey's –" She started to give her perfunctory answer, but Ritchie cut her off.

"I know. Joey's grounded." He looked at her steadily through those intense, dark eyes, and there was a slight smile on his lips. "Consider it house arrest. Coffee house."

She didn't say yes, and she didn't say no, but somehow they ended up in a coffee shop down the street after the food service was over. I'm doing this for Joey, she told herself. He needs a positive male influence.

Joey was slouched in an overstuffed leather chair in the corner, and the only thing influencing him at the moment was some kind of game on his phone. She'd warned him that he was grounded from texting too and if she found out different when she got the cell phone bill there'd be hell to pay.

"So I finally got you out on a date."

He hit her with that killer smile, and she clamped down the urge to smile back at him like a lovesick teenager. It hadn't been that long since she had a casual cup of coffee with a man she was attracted to. Well, maybe it had.

"It's not a date," she said, as primly as she could manage.

"What would you call it?" He had this sparkle in his eyes and tiny creases in the corners that only appeared when he smiled.

"Coffee. I'd call it coffee."

"It's a start. How about a real date? Tomorrow. Dinner."

She had a sudden image of what it would be like. Going out. To a nice restaurant. With an attractive man. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she had indulged in such simple pleasures.

She sighed. "I can't."

"I'm starting to think you don't like me."

"I have to look out for Joey."

"Who looks out for you?"

"I can look out for myself." She glanced over at the boy hunched over his phone, intent on his game, his leg dangling over the arm of the chair, and his unruly hair falling across a face that suddenly looked unbearably innocent and young. She sighed again. "The one thing I can't seem to do is figure out how to keep that one out of trouble."

"What's the problem?"

"How long have you got?" She nibbled on the corner of the muffin Ritchie had insisted on buying for her, and wondered if he really was interested in her troubles or just making conversation. Maybe talking about it would actually help her to figure out what to do.

"The immediate problem is a three-day suspension from school. And a kid who's definitely going to get into more trouble if I leave him on his own all day while I'm at work."

"That's easy," Ritchie shrugged. "I'll just take him to work with me."

Maria stared at him.

"Take him to work with you? Why would you do that? This is a little over the top if you're just trying to get me to go out with you."

"I like the kid. He reminds me of when I was that age." He gave her a slow grin. "And it's a small price to pay to get you to go out with me."

She found herself smiling back at him.

"I don't even know what you do."

He reached into his wallet and handed her a card.

"You're a...lawyer?" Oh no, anything but a lawyer.

She looked more closely at the card. "Ritchie Perez. Flanagan, Berrington & Perez." She looked up. "You own the firm?"

"With my two partners. We do personal injury law. Serious cases." He smiled at her, seeming to sense that her reaction was not altogether positive. "I'm not one of those ambulance chasers you see on TV in the middle of the night."

Of all the jobs he might have had, she hadn't expected this one. He didn't dress like a lawyer. And he didn't act like one either. The few lawyers she'd had dealings with weren't the sort of people who volunteered at soup kitchens, or cared about anyone except themselves. Either they ran over anything and anyone in their path just to win a case and chalk up another victory, or they took your money and made you promises that never came true. Or worse, pretended you didn't even exist.

Ritchie. A lawyer. He was wearing faded jeans and a short-sleeved polo shirt that also looked worn. Of course, now that she looked a little closer, she could tell that the shirt wasn't cheap. Did she think a lawyer would wear his expensive suit to a soup kitchen?

He had fancy degrees and a successful professional career. So it was more than just her distrust of lawyers that was making her feel uncomfortable. Yes, she still thought of herself as an artist. But the truth was she was a waitress who'd dropped out of college four years ago and had dreams that each day seemed to slip further and further away. It made her wonder why he kept asking her out and why he was so willing to help Joey. There must be dozens of rich, sophisticated women with much less baggage than she had who would be happy to go out on a date with Ritchie Perez. And she still couldn't get out of her mind the notion that she'd met him somewhere before.

"What's wrong?" He was studying her intently, and she felt herself blush.

"Nothing. I...I was just thinking that you look familiar, and wondering if maybe I'd seen your face on a billboard."

"No billboards," he said. "That's not my style. Not that there's anything wrong with it."

"Okay."

"So what do you say?" He took hold of her hand, brushed his thumb over her knuckles, and she felt her mind go blank.

"What was the question?"

"Joey. I was offering to take him into the office with me the next couple of days. Keep him busy making copies. Running errands."

It would be a lifesaver for her. Even if Ritchie was a lawyer, he seemed like a decent guy. Anyone who volunteered at St. Theresa's as much as he did probably had many good qualities that Joey would benefit from being exposed to.

"I don't know what to say."

"It's simple. Say yes."

When she still hesitated, he added, "No conditions, Maria. I'll take Joey to the office regardless of whether you go out with me." He paused, treating her to that killer grin again that made her knees go weak. "But don't expect me to stop asking."

"I'd love if you'd take Joey to work with you." She paused. "And I guess it wouldn't kill me to go out to dinner with you tomorrow."

He laughed. "That kind of enthusiasm will go to my head."

His tone was light, teasing, but the gleam in his eyes made her feel giddy inside. Like the time freshman year when her high school crush – an unattainable senior – had leaned against her locker and asked if she wanted to go grab a burger or something after school. Her mom had put a quick end to that romance, when she found out the boy was eighteen and a senior. All of which spelled trouble. But Mom wasn't around to warn her off this time. And she had a feeling it was already too late.

As she looked back at Ritchie, she couldn't help wondering what was she getting herself into?

https://youtu.be/WKsyxZWQ_g0

Author's note:

What do you think of Ritchie? Nice guy, or too pushy?  

What's Maria thinking right now? Looks like she's going to go out on a date with Ritchie, even though she doesn't much like lawyers . . .

What do you think of Joey so far? 

Music:  Daughtry - Start of Something Good