Chapter 4

But she could not, and presently they were at the gate of Belleville, where she asked him to stop, saying, “The less I have to explain to my father the better.”

“Of course,” he said in the resigned manner of a man who understood he would always be on the outside of the gate.

“Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?” she said.

“Guess not.”

“What did Se?or Rodriguez mean when he called you his boy?”

“That I’m his man, his mainstay, his right arm,” John Virgil said, the hurt in the sarcasm unmistakable.

“Why do you let him treat you that way?”

“Because I’m his son, and because one day he’s going to recognize me and my true worth for all the world to see.”

“Is that so important? I mean, isn’t it enough to know your own worth and have it appreciated by a handful of discerning others, including a certain someone who is very likely to say ‘yes’ if you were to ask her out, say, this Saturday night?”

“Oh, she is, is she?”

“I’m sure she is.”