Frank glanced down at the gesture, a reminder of the physical boundaries they'd crossed the day before. It took him a few more silent steps to realize...that he was returning Oliver's grip. He frowned at himself, more than towards the situation."Whoever it was could come back," Frank said, realizing that he was sharing a genuine fear with Oliver."Maybe they won't, Frank," Oliver replied after some consideration. Frank stopped walking to face him, feeling irritated that Oliver appeared. But I knew that would do nothing to get us back together long term. Plus, I had too many irons in the fire. As a compromise I pulled over and called Gracie at Marta’s house.It did not start as a joyful conversation. She was glad to hear from me, but she was still mourning her mother’s death from Marzz and his Tuccos right after she left. Her Mother had not treated her well, but now she was gone and it was all because Gracie did something thousands of LA girls did every week, something to. We didn't tell him who, he had no idea. He's a mean little bastard, and he'd have found a way to take it out on you."Now I knew what the business in last night's curtain call had been about. When they'd booked the house for today's thingy he must have got wind."You don't seem to like him much," I observed."I detest him," she said with a real bite. "When I made my Met debut in Boheme he was my stage lover. He kept giving me all manner of unwanted advice and trying to get in my pants, and when I. A hand covered her mouth as another one wrapped around her waist and turned her around. The door to the van opened and she was shoved inside. Inside sat a man and a woman. The man was also hispanic, and he was wearing a nice suit. The woman looked american, and she did not speak with an accent. She was wearing a black dress that was low cut, showing plenty of her large, round breasts and a long slit ran from the bottom of the dress up to her hip. They both looked at her as the driver.