Sky met me on the sidewalk. “For some reason, I thought you went to high school in Long Beach. I didn’t know you were from Palos Verdes.”
I pulled out my sunglasses and huffed. “I’m not from here at all. And I never lived in this house. It belongs to Harry and my mother. Nothing here is mine. I’m a visitor just like you. Except I didn’t bring a bottle of wine. Let’s do this.”
I stalked to the gate and punched in a code. When the iron doors swung open, I gestured for him to go ahead of me. Sky paused to check out the enormous fountain, then flashed a wicked grin at me.
“You’re funny.”
“Funny? How am I funny?”
“You’re so grumpy. It’s kinda cute.”
“I am not cute.”
“You are. You get feisty about silly things. So I got the city wrong…what’s the big deal? You look like you want to fight me.” He waited a beat, then whispered, “Or fuck me.”
I didn’t know if it was the word or the delivery or the fact that he called me out on my bullshit, but something in me snapped. I forgot where we were and moved on instinct. I grabbed the front of his shirt and sealed my mouth over his. I was aware enough to know I couldn’t linger, but damn, I wanted to. I wanted this crazy push and pull and the intense exchange of energy. I’d never felt anything like this before. I’d never given one hundred percent to a lover because I didn’t think anyone I’d been with could handle the real me. But maybe Sky could.
I stepped aside to adjust my junk. “We can’t go in yet. Thanks a lot.”
Sky chuckled. “What did I say? Fuck or Long Beach?”
“Definitely ‘fuck.’ ” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and glanced toward the front door. Thankfully, the windows were shaded, but my mom would be on the lookout for us. Any second now, the door would bust open and—
“There you are!” My mom sprang into the courtyard, waving her hands above her head. “I just peeked through the peeker thing and saw your car. I was beginning to wonder if you got lost.”
“Ha. No, I was showing Sky the fountain. Didn’t you used to have koi fish in there?” I hugged my mom and slipped my arm around her waist.
“No. Never.” Mom poked at my ribs, then extended her hand to Sky. “I’m Mandy Cohen. I’ve heard fantabulous things about you. I’m thrilled to finally meet you in person, Sky.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
Sky shook her hand, and in a few sentences managed to charm the hell out of my mother. He complimented the house, the garden, and gave her a bottle of wine before profusely thanking her for the invitation to dinner. He sounded so damn sincere, it was hard to find fault, but I did give him a “What the fuck?” look ’cause geez, this was my mom, for Christ’s sake. She liked everyone.
Mandy Fischer Cohen was the best person I knew. She was warm, beautiful, kind, and smart. I inherited her brown hair and eyes…and I hoped her brain. She was five ten and statuesque with high cheekbones and a bright smile. Supposedly, she’d done some modeling in her late teens and early twenties. But she gave up a tenuous job on the runway to get her master’s degree. She was famous for repeating old sayings like, “Beauty is nice, brains are sexy.” Mom had both, but she tended to downplay her looks. She rarely wore makeup, and she didn’t care about fashion. Though her oversized white blousy shirt, yoga pants, and bare feet worked for her.
“Hey, we eating anytime soon? I’m hungry,” I said, tickling her side until she squealed and danced out of my reach.
“Good. Everything is ready. I’ll have Harry put the noodles in the water now. We can start with wine and some cheese and crackers and…come on in!”
She ushered us inside the house and speed walked through the formal living space, that no one ever went in, to the great room. Harry bellowed a hearty hello from the kitchen and waved like a kid on a merry-go-round.
“You’re here! Wonderful! Help yourselves to wine or beer or soda pop, then gather round the island and come visit with me while your mother puts me to work,” he said with a chuckle.
“Oh, Harry…”
I rolled my eyes and steered Sky toward the bar adjacent to the island. “Pick your poison and make it strong.”
“They’re cool. And kinda sweet,” he whispered, inclining his head when my mother leaned against Harry and kissed his cheek.
“Yeah, saccharine overload,” I groused. “Two hours max.”
Two hours later, it didn’t look like we were going anywhere soon. Mom and Harry were both chatty and after a couple of glasses of wine, they were on a roll. They talked over each other in a manic quest to get to know Sky. Mom asked about school, baseball, what he liked about working at BBC, if he’d been to the Queen Mary. You know, random Pinot-fueled Mom questions that only she seemed to get away with. Harry patted her hand adoringly and refilled her wineglass.