“You.”
Nicki looked away from the bottles and at Julia. “Before that,” she smiled.
“White wine sounds good.”
“I have your favorite right here.” Nicki poured Julia a glass of pinot grigio and handed it to her.
Julia raised her glass. “To you, beautiful. Happy birthday.” She took a sip and kissed Nicki.
“Thank you. Are you ready to get this party started? I think you’ll like talking with Marielle. She’s like you—loves horses.” Nicki led Julia into the middle of the crowd.
“You mean she’s like us,” said Julia.
“Horses? I can take ’em or leave ’em. I only went riding with you because you wanted me to.”
“I didn’t know…”
Nicki kissed her. “Let’s dance to this slow song so you can show off those legs.”
“You know I need more alcohol if you’re going to make me dance.”
“I’ll hold you close,” Nicki smiled. “You look so hot in that skirt with those heels.”
“I’m glad you like it—I wore this for you.”
Nicki pulled Julia against her and whispered. “Good move.”
Midway through their second dance, Marielle tapped Nicki on the shoulder. “Stop hogging your girlfriend. How am I ever going to get to know her?”
Julia smiled and touched Nicki’s lips with her fingertip. “She has a point.”
“You’re right. Time to swap partners,” said Nicki as she joined Marielle’s girlfriend on the dance floor.
Marielle waited until the next song started before asking. “So how’s my friend treating you, Julia?”
Julia glanced away and then back at the woman. “Fine, I reckon.”
“And you’ve been dating how long?”
“A few months.”
“Then she must really like you.”
Julia smiled. “She does. But why do you say it like that?”
Marielle leaned toward her and spoke in hushed tones. “I love the girl to death, but where women are concerned, she has a short attention span. From what Nicki has told me, I think she’s lucky to have you. I wouldn’t give you two cents for any of her exes.”
Julia turned in time with the beat, did a few spins, and smiled. “I could use some wine, Marielle.”
Marielle smiled kindly. “That’s easy to fix. Follow me.”
They freshened their drinks and carried them to the back patio where Julia drank a second glass of wine and Marielle sipped her margarita.
“Do you ever make it up to LA?” Marielle asked.
“I want to, but between my diner, the ranch, and my addiction to sculpting, I never seem to get there. What do you do in LA?”
“I’m a studio hair and makeup artist.”
“That sounds exciting. Do you ever work on famous people?”
“Sure, all the time.”
Julia raised her glass and clinked the one holding Marielle’s margarita. “Artists of the world, unite.”
Marielle laughed. “I like you, Julia.”
“Don’t take my shyness for being aloof. I like you too.”
Marielle pulled out her phone. “What’s your number?”
Marielle typed it as Julia told her. Julia’s phone rang a moment later.
“That’s me calling,” said Marielle. “Now we have each other’s numbers. You know, just in case.”
Julia looked at her quizzically. “In case of what?”
Marielle hesitated. “In case you get to LA and want to say hi.”
Over drinks, they shared about art and horses.
“It’s nice to have someone to talk to who can relate, Marielle.”
Before Marielle could respond, Nicki came bounding onto the patio.
“There you are!” said Nicki. “I’ve been looking for you two. It’s time to open presents and I need you both there.”
Julia stood and walked toward the house. “Cass?” she called out. “Time to bring in my gift.”
Julia waited until all the other presents had been opened to offer hers. She gulped the last of her third glass of wine and set the crate on the table in front of Nicki.
“What? No bow?” Nicki teased.
Julia playfully slapped her arm. “I made the crate. Lift the lid gently.”
The room became quiet as Nicki peeled back the wooden top. She stared at the contents and carefully lifted out the sculpture. “Oh, cool.” Nicki hesitated, then held it up for her guests to see. “A horse. Thanks, honey.” She gave Julia a peck on the lips and placed the sculpture beside her other presents.
“Wow!” said Marielle. “Julia, where did you find that? I love Arabians!”
“I made it,” Julia replied.
“No way! Are you serious?” said Marielle. “It’s gorgeous.”
“Thank you.”
“Yep,” Nicki added. “My girl sculpts. Although I’m partial to her sexy legs!”
“Kill the lights,” said one of Nicki’s friends as she entered with a lit birthday cake.
As everyone sang the birthday song, Julia watched Nicki’s friends shower her with affection. A woman whose name Julia couldn’t recall fawned over her, giving her a long close-mouthed kiss on the lips.
Hellooo. I’m standing right here! thought Julia.
Cass glanced at Julia and flicked her head in the direction of the kitchen. Julia slipped through the crowd and followed her silently out the back door and into the yard.
“You really outdid yourself, Julia. That horse is magnificent.”
“Not to Nicki it isn’t.”
“Fuck her. You worked on that for over a month, and she just tossed it aside.”
Julia shrugged.
“For all the trouble you went to, maybe you should’ve just gotten her a gift card.”
“I’m sure she’ll thank me later, Cass.”
“She should be thanking you now. Here. In front of her friends. More than that…”
“She’s had a lot to drink.”
“You don’t need to make excuses for her.”
Their heads turned when they heard the collective roar from inside the house.
“Sounds like we’re missing something,” said Julia.
They made their way back to the party. Julia halted in her tracks when she got to the archway of the room. In the middle of the floor, Nicki sat on a small chair—with a stripper straddling her.
“Now this is what I call a birthday present!” Nicki said. “Thanks for chipping in, ladies!”
Cass whispered in Julia’s ear. “You’re a better woman than I am, Jules. The green-eyed monster would have bitten me in the ass by now.”
“I guess she prefers the stripper.” Julia stood on the outskirts of the room, pushing back at the jealousy that threatened to overwhelm her as she watched Nicki’s hands slide all over the nearly naked woman’s body. A boulder landed in her stomach with a dull thud, and although she’d been drinking, she suddenly felt stone-cold sober. “Can you give me a ride home, Cass? Now?”
“I thought you were staying over tonight.”
Julia replied with a tightness in her throat. “So did I.” She watched as the stripper nestled Nicki’s face in her cleavage. Then Nicki kissed her hard. Julia knew what that kind of kiss usually led to.
“I have to get out of here right now,” she whispered.
“Do you want to tell Nicki you’re leaving?”
Julia shook her head. “Why? Does she look like she cares? I can’t watch anymore.”
* * *
Cass glanced over at her passenger after fifteen minutes of dead silence. “You okay? You haven’t said a word since we left the party.”
“Not really. I doubt she even knows I left.” Julia remembered how Nicki had walked ahead of her at the movies, never once turning to see if Julia was at her side. Then, how she ignored Julia’s desires, often coaxing her and succeeding in getting Julia to do whatever she wanted.
“I’m sorry, Jules. I do not believe how that woman disrespected yo
u—you deserve better. Hey, why don’t you stay at my place tonight and we’ll watch funny movies, make popcorn?”
“No thanks,” Julia answered listlessly.
“Aw, come on, we can trash Nicki. She deserves it.”
Julia slumped. “You know that’s not my style.” She turned off her cell phone.
“Why did you turn off your phone?” Cass made a right onto the road that led to the ranch.
“Because I don’t want to glare at it all night hoping she calls.” Julia got out of the car to unlock the gate when she and Cass arrived at the Y2. She walked to the driver’s-side window. “Thanks for the lift. I’m going to walk from here.”
“But those heels will get all dirty on that long driveway.”
Julia gave an ironic grin. “Ask me if I care.”
“I don’t want to leave you feeling this way, Jules. Especially when your phone is off and I can’t check on you.”
Julia mustered a sad smile. “I’ll call you later to check in.”
“Promise?” Cass stuck out her pinky.
“What are we, thirteen again?”
“Pinky swear. Promise me!”
Julia hooked her pinky around Cass’s. “Promise,” she said before wending her way down the dark and dusty driveway.
Chapter Ten
Rina adjusted her rearview mirror as she pulled away from the Arizona spa and wound down the mountain. She’d achieved the perfect blend of Rina-ness through a stew of balanced Ayurvedic Dosha, yoga, spinal adjustments, and facials. Now the archetype of calm and centeredness, she glanced in the visor mirror to see how all that body and mind rehab looked on her.
Even with the fillers I can still see the lines.
She took a deep breath and reminded herself that self-acceptance had been key to avoiding her urge for chocolate. Glad she had taken time at the spa to transition between rehab and “re-life,” she decided she was as ready as she was going to get to meet with the A-list director. She passed an hour alone with her playlist-orchestrated thoughts. When the phone rang, she glanced at her dashboard display, then pressed the button on the steering wheel.
“Hi, Clay.”
“How is it going? Where are you?” he asked.
“The Arizona desert, just past Tonopah.”
“That’s a desolate ride, especially after dark.”
“I left the spa later than expected. I had a Reiki appointment and then hair and makeup.”
“Everything okay?”
“I’m not sure if I’m tired or simply more relaxed than I’ve ever been. I should be in Palm Springs in under a few hours, although it’s been raining on and off, so I’m taking it easy.”
“I don’t want to worry. Call me when you check into the Ritz?”
“I want to eat and sleep when I get there. I’ll call you tomorrow after the meeting.”
“I wish you’d have let me join you, Rina. You need your attack dog next to you in a negotiation.”
Rina chuckled. “I’m not negotiating anything—especially without running it by you. I’m just going to listen to what Reese has to say.”
“Listen to you.”
“What about me?”
Clay laughed. “I feel like a proud papa who sent you away to summer camp—and you came home all grown up and knowing how to make your own bed! Is this the new you? Grounded? Secure?”
“Rehab was time well spent. I got a good view of my life there.”
“What’d you see?”
“An up-close encounter with my fear of aging, of losing my desirability—both on-screen and off…”
“In rehab? What the hell does that have to do with chocolate?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Rina, this film is going to be huge. I’m so glad I could get this for you.”
“Thank you, Clay—it’s helping to quell my feelings of irrelevance.”
“You’ll never become irrelevant. Ya gotta believe, babe. Believe.”
Rina laughed. “Good night, Clay.” She switched to the satellite radio’s Chill-Electronica channel, cranked it up, and set her plan of attack for the meeting.
Another hour and a half elapsed before Rina stopped for gas in Blythe, on the California-Arizona state line. Caught on a desolate stretch of Interstate 10 when a steady downpour began drenching the desert floor, she pushed ahead, driving through deep puddles that she couldn’t see and gripping the wheel with a vengeance when she saw a Flash Flood sign. Her stomach growled, and the vigilance with which she was being forced to drive tired her. As the visibility deteriorated, she drove slower and slower. She should have taken the last exit, but she was past it before she could decide to do so. She coasted now while looking for the one the map on the GPS indicated was next.
The country road was barely visible when she pulled off the highway. Darkness pervaded the scene, as best she could tell through the sheeting of water across the windshield.
“Proceed to the route,” said the disembodied voice on her GPS.
Her stomach growled again. “Restaurants near me,” Rina told the GPS.
“I see one restaurant cafe four miles ahead. The Starlight Diner is moderately priced and has a four-star rating. I can call or get directions.”
“Get directions,” said Rina. “The Starlight Diner. It sounds quaint, like a throwback to the Fifties—in the middle of God knows where. I hope they’re open.”
* * *
“Jules,” said Cass. “I have almost everything cleaned up and put away in the kitchen. If we’d had a minute today I would’ve asked why you spent Sunday alone. And why between yesterday and today at work you’ve probably said only six words.”
“I sculpted all day Sunday. The only break I took was to feed the horses.”
“Have you…”
“Spoken with Nicki? No. I’ve managed to avoid her calls since that disastrous party.”
Somehow it was now three days later and the fog in her head had yet to lift. Still, she knew they were going to have to talk at some point. What would she say to the woman who had hurt her feelings more than once and humiliated her in front of a room full of people?
“I almost forgot my dinner.” As soon as Cass disappeared through the swinging kitchen door, the diner phone rang. Julia reached behind the counter and picked it up. “Starlight,” she answered.
“Don’t hang up. It’s Nicki.”
The call didn’t last long, but its effect did. Dazed by Nicki’s words, Julia grabbed a rag and started moving the counter appliances, cleaning behind them. The harder she scrubbed, the more muted Nicki’s voice became in her mind. She had opened with a profuse apology. The words that lingered, however, were: “I guess I’m not ready for a full time relationship with just one woman.”
“What are you doing? It’s quitting time,” said Cass when she returned.
Julia moved the toasters back into position but said nothing.
Cass slung her purse over her shoulder. “Mind if I take off?”
“No. Night, Cass. Be careful out there. It’s a flooding kind of rain.”
“Jules.”
Julia stopped and looked at her.
“That was her on the phone, wasn’t it? Nicki.”
Julia nodded and Cass hugged her. “You want to tell me what she said?”
“Maybe tomorrow.” Julia shook her head. “Go home, Cass. I’m finished.”
“I don’t mind keeping you company.”
Julia looked away. “I’d really like to be alone right now.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m heading home.” Julia put the blender back.
“Okay. Call me if you want to talk.”
Julia nodded. “Good night.”
The conversation with Nicki played on a continuous loop in her mind. “You’re breaking up with me for that stripper from your party? A girl you just met?”
“We’re over, Julia,” Nicki had said. Then she’d had the nerve to repeat it. Twice. “I’m sorry.”
As if that would
change anything. Julia thought about it. Admit it, you weren’t in love with her. Think of all the times she discounted you and you ignored it. Ugh! Maybe I wasn’t enough for her.
With every tour her rag made of the counter, Julia wiped harder, determined to erase every crumb, every speck of a crumb—every crumbled illusion. Finally, exasperated, she tossed the rags and her apron into the laundry bin, grabbed her knapsack, locked up, and left.
Her ranch-worn boots scraped the crushed stone as she moved toward the lone car in the parking lot alongside the lonely desert two-lane. The rain had lessened somewhat and she breathed in the cool freshness of the wet earth. She tossed the knapsack onto the passenger seat of her 1974 Fiat Spider convertible and tilted her head back to feel the droplets tap her face before she got in. The usual sparkling celestial parade was shrouded in clouds so low that the night appeared more gray than black. She let out a deep sigh.
“I just want a glass of wine and a hot bath. Is that too much to ask?” Julia got behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition.
Chug.
Click.
She tried again. Chug, click.
Click. The third time, the battery was so dead the car didn’t even chug.
Tears burned her tired eyes, and while she rested her forehead on the steering wheel, she wondered whom she could call for a jump start—someone who wouldn’t ask her any questions. I’ll figure it out in the diner and wait there.
She sighed and grabbed her keys to head back inside. “Who did I piss off in my last life?” As she got out of the car, a set of brilliant headlights lit up the parking lot and blinded her. Julia shielded her eyes as a sleek Jaguar rolled up beside her, but to Julia’s bedazzled eyes the driver’s head looked like one big light bulb.
“Excuse me, Miss,” said the woman. “Can you tell me if there’s someplace open to get a bite to eat?”
Although the driver’s face was enveloped in a halogen-esque globe, Julia recognized the driver’s unique Italian accent, the unmistakable throaty timbre of the voice. The whole world knew that voice.
“Holy sh…ohmigosh! I grew up watching you; I’ve seen every movie twenty times—y-you’re Katarina Verralta!” The light bulb effect had begun to fade, although the driver was still but a sketch of an outline.
Right there in her parking lot, on Old Saguaro Road, late on a Tuesday, was that some-kind-of-sexy that eradicated all doubt.
Smile Number Seven Page 6
