by Vivian Wood
“Gatewood High.” She blushes again. “I have been friends with your daughter for eight years, ma’am.”
“Luna?” my dad says. “You have good taste in friends, then.”
Cate ducks her head. “Yes sir.”
He laughs. “And polite? I’ll wager this is the best girlfriend you’ve even introduced us to, son.”
“I’m not—”
“She’s not my—”
We start protesting at once, but my parents don’t listen. Truth be told, they aren’t even paying attention. My mom drains her wine glass.
“Be a darling and flag that waiter down, will you?” she asks my father.
I glare at them, unsure how to even respond. Then I feel Cate put her hand on my knee.
I glance at her. She gives me a sympathetic look, squeezing my hand.
Then she puts her hand back on my knee and sits up straight. “You know, Luna and I went to college together too.”
My father and mother both look at her.
“Oh yes?” my mother asks, beaming. “Luna is so smart, isn’t she? Going for her medical school degree is tough stuff.”
Cate smiles. “Totally. I’m always in awe of that. When we were in college, I had one semester of biology before I cried uncle.”
“She gets that from me,” my father brags. “I could’ve gone to med school if I wanted.”
“Definitely,” Cate says, nodding. “Luna is really smart. She’s going to make a great doctor. And she’s also very pretty…”
My mom reaches across the table and grabs Cate’s hand. “She is so pretty! And I am so glad to meet you!” She shakes a finger at me. “You hold onto this one, Luca. She’s a keeper!”
“Luca actually does really well with his bar,” Cate says.
My dad actually bursts out laughing, slapping the table. “Did you hear that, darling? She stuck up for her man! I love that quality in a girlfriend, don’t you Luca?”
My dad slides his glass of wine in front of my mom and my mom takes it, sipping it right away. He orders another bottle, though Cate and I don’t really touch our wine. Cate spends the next hour praising Luna and defending me. I spend the whole time quietly watching; she seems to have things well enough in hand.
By the time my parents leave, drunkenly staggering to a cab, my father has decided that they love Cate. “She’s a keeper,” he intones. “You’ve got to put a ring on that one, son. Best decision you could make.”
He hiccups as I roll my eyes.
“Okay, Dad.” I tuck his head into the backseat of the cab, feeling an incredible sense of relief when it finally pulls away from the curb.
I look down at Cate, a sigh on my lips. “Thank you. You saved the night, somehow.”
She blushes and looks away. “It’s alright.”
“No, it’s not. I owe you an apology. I’ve misbehaved since we hooked up. But you…” I shake my head. “You saved me tonight anyway.”
“Yeah, well.” Her lips twitch and she glances up at me. “It wasn’t that bad for me. As it turns out, they just want to hear about how great Luna is.”
I groan. “Yeah. They’ve always been like that. My parents could not be more self—involved, except for cheering on Luna.”
Her smile falls. “I am really sorry that you have to deal with that, Luca. I mean, I would argue that at least your parents are alive… but I don’t think you have the same kind of relationship with them as I did with mine.”
I frown. “No. Not even remotely.”
There is a flash in my head, of Cate and her mom arguing just before Cate got into my car years ago. I wish I had a parent that cared, even just for a little while.
Cate surprises me by pushing up on her tiptoes and kissing my cheek. Then she steps back, her face burning.
“What was that for?” I ask, perplexed.
She shrugs. “You just seemed like you needed it. That’s all.”
Before I can say anything, my phone starts vibrating in my pocket. I dig it out, trailing after her toward the Attic. It’s one of the band managers that I have desperately been trying to get in touch with.
“Shit, I should take this,” I say, although Cate is a few feet ahead of me by now. “Do you want a ride home in a bit, though?”
She flashes a grin over her shoulder. “Yeah, that’d be great.”
Then she disappears into the front door of the Attic, leaving me to argue on the phone.
Chapter Twenty
Cate
C—
Had to leave early to make a partner’s meeting at work. See you there later.
— L
I stare down at the note Luca left for me, my mouth pulled into a frown. It’s not a big deal that I didn’t get a ride to work.
No, my issue is that I’m starting to feel like he knows me a little too well. Especially when I found the note pinned to the coffee maker.
Yeah, he would’ve had to have known my morning routine. He set this note out and ground some coffee just for me…
And I don’t like it one bit.
I mean, I would’ve figured out that Luca had left even without this note. And the coffee filter and pre-ground coffee just seem mocking to me.
That, or like Luca thinks that he has a grasp on me and what I like. The thought makes me vaguely nauseated.
This is only supposed to be for four more weeks. That’s one month. Then things go back to normal, whatever that means. And one thing that is normal is that Luca and I hate each other…
Certainly the feeling I have in the pit of my stomach, which is not hate and is instead some mixture of lust and longing and a drizzle of starry eyed wonder… I am not supposed to feel this way.
Non-hate feelings were never part of the arrangement.
I still have hours before I have to be at work, so I ignore the coffee Luca laid out for me. Instead, I take the bus back to my grandmother’s house. While I’m on my way there, I lapse into daydreaming a few times.
Well, by daydreaming, I mean remembering what sex with Luca was like.
Every time my mind wanders off and ends up in the gutter, I pinch myself on the back of my hand. It’s the same technique that I used to stop biting my nails…
But it isn’t working, thus far.
When I finally get to Grandma’s house, I have to hunt her down. I finally find her in her outdoor greenhouse, kneeling between rows of mint and sage. It smells heavenly out here, especially when I pluck a tender shoot of mint, crushing it between my fingers.
Grandma turns around at the sound of my footsteps approaching.
“Cate!” she says, beckoning me closer. “Just the person I need. Here, grab a pair of gloves and help me weed.” She yanks a weed from the row of sage. “These damned weeds.”
I pick up a pair of gloves, kneeling beside her. “Hi Grandma.”
“Hello, sweetheart. Grab that tool there, will you?” She points to a hand tool and I pick it up. “Mmm. Doesn’t the earth smell good today?”
I can’t argue with that. “Yep.”
Pulling some weeds out by the roots, I toss them in the pile she’s made. Grandma presses her lips together, glancing at me.
“How are things going with your man friend?”
All the while her hands are busy, using the tool to dig up a fresh clod of earth.
I blow out a breath. “Complicated.”
Grandma’s lips lift. “They usually are.” She pauses, yanking on a particularly intractable weed until it comes free of the earth. Then she tosses it onto the pile. “I was under the impression that you didn’t like him. What is his name again? Luke?”
“Luca,” I say. I grunt as I tug at a weed. “And I don’t. Or at least, I didn’t.”
My grandmother slides me a look. “You know, your parents hated each other before they became a couple.”
I stop pulling a weed. “Mom and Dad?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Grandma sits back, adjusting her hat. “Your mom was conservative at the time. In the way she dressed, in the thi
ngs she did, how she voted too, probably. I think having me for a mother, the biggest hippie that you could find in Seattle, was hard for your mother in some ways.”
I don’t say anything, not wanting to interrupt her remembrance. But I do put my hand on her back, rubbing small circles into her flesh. Grandma gives me a sad smile.
“Anyway, your father came along. He was very different, from a military family but rebelling against what he came from. He was laid back where your mother was strict, mellow where she couldn’t be. She was a devout Catholic, he couldn’t be bothered with any church. You get the idea.”
I frown. “How did two people who believed such different things end up married?”
My cheeks stain, because I realize people could ask me the same question about Luca and I.
“Eventually I think they met in the middle in most things,” Grandma says with a shrug. “But for a while there, all I heard about him were complaints. ‘Charlie did this, can you believe it?’ and ‘Charlie said that! I wanted to smack him!’” Grandma dusts off her hands. “Then one day, the script flipped. ‘Isn’t Charlie handsome?’”
She chuckles, then gets up, her knees popping.
“Careful there,” I say, steadying her.
She waves me off. “Come on. We need some hot cocoa. I’ve already set up the pitcher just inside the back door. We should sit on the back porch while we warm ourselves.”
She marches toward the back porch, leaving me to follow her.
“Mom and Dad really seemed happy together,” I muse.
“They were.” She climbs the steps to the back porch. “Sit yourself down. I’ll grab the cocoa.”
I take one of the ancient wooded rocking chairs as Grandma returns with two steaming mugs full of cocoa. Thanking her, I sip mine experimentally.
Grandma is a lot of wonderful things, but a good cook is not one of them. To my surprise, it’s well-balanced, the dark bittersweet chocolate offset by the buttery milk fat. Somehow, the notes are in harmony.
“I didn’t make the cocoa,” she says, smiling as she sips it. “I’m sure you can tell. Carmine made a few batches for the house.”
“I didn’t say anything,” I protest, warming my hands on the mug.
Things are quiet for half a minute, then Grandma speaks again. “You said things are complicated with you and your man friend. Why do you feel that way?”
“Oh.” I blow out a breath. “I met his parents last night. I mean, I’ve met them before as Luna’s parents, but they barely noticed me. Last night though, they were paying attention and it was…” I pause, searching for the words. “A little bit terrifying, to say the least.”
She arches a brow. “How so?”
“Mr. Leone was… I don’t know, commandeering? And imperious? And Luca’s mom… she was nice but she drank a lot. A lot. Thank god they’re gone a lot, but… I can’t imagine growing up with them as parents.”
My grandmother nods. “You were lucky, I think. Having the parents you had…”
That phrase makes me a little sad. Had, in the past tense. “Yeah,” I say, my shoulders slumping. It’s a little weird to even be having this conversation about my parents.
Then she smiles slyly at me. “So have you told Luca yet?”
My brow pulls down. “Told him what?”
“That whatever he’s doing, it’s working. You’re smitten with him, I can tell.”
A bloom of heat rises in my cheeks. “What? No. Ugh.”
I roll my eyes but Grandma just grins at me. “Oh yes. You like him. Grandmothers have a sixth sense about these things.”
I shake my head. “Nope. This conversation is over. Cancelled!”
“Mmm-hmm.” Grandma looks down at her cocoa, pleased with herself. “We can change the subject but I don’t think that will change the way you feel.”
I stand up. “I should probably get going anyway.”
“Oh, come give me a hug.” She stands up and hugs me, brushing my hair back from my face.
Long after I leave though, I’m still turning over what she said.
Am I really smitten with Luca? I mean, we have been in pretty close quarters for almost a month and a half now. And close quarters did bleed over into us having sex once…
I don’t want to be one of those girls that goes all goo-goo eyed over a guy that she’s had sex with, though. That’s so not me.
Then again, neither was having sex with Luca in the first place.
I’m still turning the thought over and over in mind my mind when I reach the Attic. I head to the employee locker room, getting ready for work at a snail’s pace. Bradford comes into the locker room, waving several envelopes in the air.
“Honey, please get these checks out of my mailbox,” he says. “They’ve just been piling up out there. The other employees take theirs home the second they get them.”
He hands me three envelopes. I frown at them, shaking my head a little. “I thought that you guys just dealt with this stuff somehow. I didn’t realize that I had checks waiting for me, I guess.”
“Well, you do. And they should be pretty substantial, especially since you have all your credit card tips on your paycheck.”
I flush a bit. “Right. Thanks.”
He waves, already on his way out of the locker room. “See you in a while!”
I stare at the checks in my hand, then sigh. Ripping open the first one, I scan for the amount listed.
Net pay… $1709.16.
My eyes bulge out. Surely that has to be a mistake! No way in hell did I actually earn that much. Tearing open the other two checks, I find that they’re for even more.
Nineteen hundred dollars and twenty four hundred dollars.
That can’t be right! I mean… I don’t remember talking to Luca about what I would earn hourly, but this is… some kind of charity, surely.
I mean, there is just no way that I’ve earned that much. Bursting out of the locker room, I practically run to the bar. Bradford looks up from a stack of receipts, arching an eyebrow.
“Something wrong with your paychecks, darling?” he drawls.
I shove them at him, my expression grave. “That can’t be right,” I say, pointing at the dollar amount. “There is no way that I have earned that much working less than twenty hours a week.”
Bradford smothers a sigh and takes the checks, looking at my paystubs. “I mean, that looks right to me. I would estimate about that if someone asked me how much a waitress or a bar back makes here.”
My heart thunders. “How much money does the bar make every night?”
He crosses his arms, pressing his lips together. “Way more than you thought, apparently. What is your issue here? Do you feel like you make too much? Because let me tell you something, dear. I guarantee you that other people, people who have to actually pay rent and bills, would kill for that issue. There are a lot of people in the world that are struggling to make ends meet.”
My eyes widen. I didn’t mean to complain at all. “I was just trying—”
Bradford holds up a hand to silence me. “Do you have an actual issue with your paychecks?”
Coloring, I hesitate then shake my head. “No.”
“Good.” He hands me back the checks. “If there isn’t anything else, I am trying to finish up some paperwork before the shift starts.”
I nod meekly. “Of course. I’ll be right back, just let me put these checks in my locker.”
Bradford smiles lightly but his eyes go down to the paperwork before him. I know a dismissal when I see one.
Slinking back to the employee locker room with my checks, I feel a little chastised. I really didn’t mean to make a big deal out of nothing, especially not with one of Luca’s business partners. And doubly so with someone that is essentially a stranger.
I shove the checks in the back of my locker and close the door. It just doesn’t seem right that I should have so much when there are so many people that actually need to earn what I’ve accidentally stumbled into earning.
Chapter Twenty-One
Luca
I pull my SUV into a spot at the marina, turning the engine off. The morning is just getting bright. Even through the car windows, the briny smell of the ocean takes over my senses.
Cate looks at me, her suspicion evident. “What is this?”
I roll my eyes. “See all the boats and the docks? We are at a marina. Not a shabby one, either.”
She gives her head a shake. “That’s not what I mean and you know it. Why did you have me pack for two nights away?”
I wink at her. “You’ll have to grab your bag and come with me to find out.”
She looks out at the yachts bobbing in water, her brow pulling down. But when I get out of the car and grab my bag, she follows suit.
“Come on,” I say, closing the trunk of the Porsche. “It’s a reward for being so helpful the other night. I know my parents can be a handful.”
She looks uncertain, but I lead her down to the docks, weaving around some of the larger yachts until I stop in front of Tonight’s Promise.
It’s more of a schooner than a yacht, but it’s plenty big enough for the two of us. Plus I got it at the last minute, because inspiration for this little trip only struck yesterday morning.
“Surprise!” I say, glancing at her to gauge her reaction. She looks warily up at the ship.
“Please tell me you didn’t buy me a boat.”
I smirk. “You wish. This boat costs more than a normal person makes in five years.” The way she glares at me makes me laugh a little. “Relax, princess. I rented it for the next two days. Come on, let’s head on board.”
I walk up the wobbly plank that leads onto the boat, putting my bag down and helping her on board. She looks around, obviously fretting about something.
“What?” I ask. “Come on, it’s fine. I covered our shifts at work, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
She looks at me, gripping her tote bag and steadying herself on the boat’s railing. “I’ve never been on a ship before,” she confesses. “Or a boat or even a canoe.”
