Sal smirked. “He had a rough night last night, too. He’ll be in later today.”

“I need to talk to him.” Romero turned to Angel, remembering his wife Sarah was Valerie’s cousin. “Maybe you can do it for me.”

“I need to get all my stuff from Isabel’s place. But I don’t wanna do it myself.”

Romero saw the expression on Sal’s face go somber. “Seriously, that bad? You two can’t work this out?”

Feeling the ache even deeper Romero gestured toward the paper still in Sal’s hands. “That shit ain’t gonna blow over, Sal—not with her and especially not with her family. They didn’t like me to begin with.” He looked down and flexed his badly bruised knuckles, feeling a tightness in his throat he’d only felt a few times in his life. “I’m no good for her.”

A customer on the other side of the bar caught Angel’s attention and he walked over to see what he needed. Sal stared at Romero. “I think you’re wrong. Have you talked to her since last night?”

Romero shook his head, unwilling to speak, fearing the emotion he was feeling would betray him. He still stared at his knuckles; not wanting to even look at Sal.

“I’d talk to her, man. So you blew up. Alex said you had good reason.” Sal chuckled. “But then coming from another hot-head that doesn’t hold a lot of weight.” He seemed to wait for a response but Romero said nothing—he couldn’t. He was busy trying to swallow the softball-sized knot in his throat. “For what it’s worth,” Sal continued. “I think you two are good for each other. You balance each other out. And hey.” Romero finally looked up at him when he realized Sal wasn’t going to continue until he did. “Alex told me about all the bullshit that guy was yelling. You gotta know that’s all it was, right? He had to say something to try and make you feel as stupid as he felt. You beat his ass in front of all his Navy buddies. He knew he ended up looking like the pu**y who got his ass handed to him. I wouldn’t believe a word he said.”

Romero wondered if Alex had also told him Isabel had admitted to venting to him. And he’d seen the look on her face. Even if Michael had taken her words out of context, there was some truth to it. He didn’t even blame her. What kind of future could she look forward to with him?

Sal would never understand. No one would. His whole life he’d dealt with the inability to hold back what was on his mind, especially when he was mad, but with Isabel everything was magnified a million times over. All his emotions for her, including what he was feeling now, were so overwhelming there was no way he would get a hold on them. He stood up and glanced at Sal. He had to get out of there. “Thanks, man. Tell Alex I’ll be calling him.”

He walked away leaving Sal staring at him. The sympathy in his eyes made Romero feel even worse. Romero needed to distance himself from Isabel and the sooner the better or this whole thing was going to kill him. The only thing he cared about getting from Isabel’s apartment was his laptop. Everything else, he didn’t give a shit about. Even the laptop could be replaced, but there was client information on it that he needed secure.

Once he had that he’d walk away forever. Having the willpower to stay away from her was not going to be easy. Already he was tempted to go see her now. Maybe being locked up wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

***

Taking the chance of Romero showing up while Michael picked her up was out of the question. So she agreed to meet Michael at his hotel room. Originally, she’d planned to meet him somewhere safer and far less intimate, like at a restaurant where there was no chance he’d try to make a move, but he finally admitted that he wasn’t really feeling up to going out yet.

She knew meeting with Michael alone would be bad enough in Romero’s eyes. Meeting him in his hotel room might be the final straw, but she had no choice. She’d never be able to live with herself if Romero had ruined his life because of her stupidity. She had to at least try to fix this.

When she got to his room, she realized why he hadn’t wanted to be seen in public. She wondered why he would even want her to see him this way. His face was one giant raw wound. Her heart sunk. How in the world would she convince him to drop the charges? Every time he looks in the mirror, he must be cursing Romero.

She couldn’t help herself and she brought her hands to her mouth. “Oh my God, Michael.”

He smiled. That alone had to hurt. “I told you, it looks a lot worse than it really is.” He took a step back, opening the door even wider for her. “Come on in.”

She walked into his room. The room service he told her he’d be ordering had already arrived. His suite had a front room and a small kitchenette. There was a tray of cheese and crackers on the coffee table. A bottle of champagne and two empty glasses sat on the counter of the kitchenette.

Michael poured them each a glass and asked her to have a seat on the small sofa in the front room. He sat next to her but not too close. “So did you have anything in particular you wanted to talk to me about?”

She couldn’t help staring at his banged up face. Both eyes were swollen and purple. The blood vessels in one of them had popped making the whites of that eye completely red and the other one had a big gash under it. His lip was ripped on one side and there was a knot on his forehead the size of a golf ball. As egotistical as he was, she still couldn’t understand why he would be okay with her seeing what her boyfriend had done to him. “Michael, I’m really sorry about last night.”