"We can do more horse therapy anytime you want. Just call me or come find me."
She kissed my cheek. "You're not as much of a player as I used to think."
"Thanks." I'd take any compliment from Heidi, even a half-assed one. "I'll be in the gypsy wagon if you want a palm reading. I give great readings."
"I bet you do."
She started to walk away, but I caught her arm to stop her. When she glanced at me, I said, "For the record, I don't think I'm awesome at everything. I suck at geometry. Squeaked by with a C minus in high school."
Heidi's brows tightened as if I'd confused her.
Then she headed for her girlfriends who were relaxing on chaises, while I went back to the office to change into my gypsy uniform.
I spent the next two hours doing my shtick, reading palms and tarot cards, though I didn't gaze into any crystal balls. Maybe I couldn't prove my tarot and palm readings were accurate, but even I didn't stoop to crystal-ball bullshit. The big crystal orb in my wagon was there strictly for show. Tourists loved the way I'd decorated the interior, and they loved my gypsy routine, though I was sure ninety-nine point nine percent of them realized it was just for fun.
At lunch, I looked for Heidi in the dining hall but didn't see her, so I ate in my wagon. Ollie, Mara, Eve, and Val wanted me to join them in the caretaker's house, but I preferred to have lunch alone. It gave me time to think—about Heidi, of course. I wanted her, and I liked the side of her I got to see when we visited the horses, but I didn't know if I should pursue anything with her. She claimed she didn't want to date or have sex, so I guessed what I wanted didn't matter.
Maybe I was arrogant and persistent, but I never tried to push a woman into being with me.
Just as I went back into the guest house to check on my concierge duties, my cell phone rang. I dug it out of my pocket, but before I could say hello, my mom started speaking.
"Damian, are you still slumming it at the nudist camp?"
"No, I'm working at a naturist resort. It's beautiful here, Mom, not a slum." Which I'd told her many times over the past couple of months, but she didn't listen any of those times. My mom wasn't a snob, not really. She just didn't understand my desire to live and work at a nudist resort. "Ollie works here too, you know. Your 'precious, sweet little Oliver' is a nudist."
I didn't say that like I was offended by how much my mom loved Ollie. It didn't bother me. She loved me too, but Mom had always had a soft spot for my best friend. Seemed like the geek thing actually worked. Even mothers fell for it.
But Heidi Mackenzie liked my gypsy thing.
She also crushed on Ollie for a while, so I probably shouldn't have gotten smug about the way Heidi almost drooled over me. Yeah, I did not want to be the rebound guy.
"Maybe we should come there," Mom said, "to see what our boy is doing in the wilderness with a bunch of hippies."
Yep, my mother thought hippies were gauche, but being a gypsy was high class. Where did I get my Ludar prince routine? From my mother. She liked to dress up as "Ileana the Ludar queen" and do highly entertaining palm and tarot readings for our neighbors at birthday parties, weddings, bar mitzvahs, whatever. People loved it.
And they knew it was bullshit. My mom was born and raised in Brooklyn, and her real name was Monica.
"You don't need to come here, Mom," I said. "Unless you're suddenly itching to get rid of your clothes. A lot of the naturists here are your age or older, so all you codgers can commiserate about how your asses hurt while enjoying a little nude sunbathing."
She huffed. "I'm fifty-six, not eighty. Don't lump me in with the codgers just yet."
"I know, Mom, it was a joke."
"But I was serious about visiting you. I need to make sure my sweet Ludar prince hasn't gotten himself into trouble."
Maybe I had gotten myself into trouble—just a little, with Heidi the celibate sex kitten—but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. Definitely nothing my mom needed to know about. I was an adult, not a dumb kid.
I'd just reached the bottom of the stairs, about to climb up to the second floor. "Gotta go, Mom. Say hi to Dad."
"Be careful, Damian."
We hung up.
Of course my mother couldn't say "have a good day." No, she had to tell me to be careful. I didn't know if Mom would ever accept the idea that I lived and worked at a nudist resort, I loved it, and I would never quit. This was my dream job.
So yeah, I might've been crazy. But in a good way.
After I took care of the concierge requests, I resolved to find Heidi. Probably a bad idea, but then, I'd always enjoyed a challenge—and a dirty-hot bad idea.