Smile Number Seven

by Melissa Price

  The actress confirmed it with a tired smile. “Actually, I’m a very tired and hungry Katarina Verralta. I’m sorry. I’m babbling and you’re getting soaked.”

  “We’re closed…but I was just heading back inside to call for a jump start. I’d be happy to get you some food. I’m rambling, aren’t I? Did I say that out loud? Please. Come in.”

  “I really don’t want to bother you,” Katarina said.

  “Honestly, it would be a highlight on an otherwise miserable day.” Julia stood in the light rain, staring as her vision came back fully into focus.

  Katarina Verralta’s mutable green eyes were often compared to Sophia Loren’s when they lit up the silver screen. Regardless, to Julia the woman was more beautiful than Michelle Pfeiffer, Charlize Theron, and Cate Blanchett all rolled into one, only with dark hair like Julia Roberts. At the moment, though, reflecting the indirect light through the prism of rain, her eyes merely shimmered and glowed. “I’ll see you inside.” Julia dashed toward the diner.

  Julia left the door ajar and flipped on the lights. She entered her back office, changed into a dry sweater from her locker, brushed her hair, and put on some lipstick. It wasn’t in every lifetime a girl got to meet her screen idol up close and personal. She heard her brain scream as she came out to greet the woman. Katarina Verralta, Julia! Breathe for god’s sake!

  Katarina made her entrance in the middle of a sentence while closing her umbrella. “…and then the rain became so heavy that I couldn’t see the exit sign, but I took the ramp and that road led me here. I’m happy to take whatever you have prepared and eat in my car. Oh, and if you wouldn’t mind, I really need your restroom.”

  Momentarily starstruck, first by the whirlwind of the moment, then by those luminescent eyes, all Julia could do was point to the ladies’ room. She darted into the kitchen, fired up the mini oven on her way to the cooler, then tripped over a tray, nearly dropping the pan of her famous lasagna, which she’d served every Wednesday since she had taken over the place four years earlier.

  She composed herself, reentered the dining room, and set a table. “Miss Verralta,” she said when the actress returned, “I have a table ready for you right here.”

  The chestnut-haired beauty smiled. “I’m at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

  Julia managed a shallow breath. “I’m Julia Dearling, owner of the Starlight Diner.” Her hand swept across the panorama of tables and booths before her right hand met Katarina’s handshake.

  Soft. Strong, Julia thought. She savored the velvety warmth of the manicured hand that was so unlike her own thanks to her work in a kitchen, in a sculpting studio, and in the barn. I can’t believe I shook her hand! Breathe, Julia!

  “Julia Dearling, you are a lifesaver. But I feel terrible for inconveniencing you.”

  Julia thought the woman’s accent made her name sound exotic. Something like Zhooliaah. She smiled and it felt good. Until that moment, Julia didn’t realize how long it had been since she’d smiled and meant it. “You have no idea what an honor it is to have you as my guest. Do you like homemade vegetable lasagna?” Please say yes. “It’s my Grandmother Lucia’s recipe.”

  “I’m starving and I love lasagna. Especially Grandmother Lucia’s.”

  Julia fidgeted awkwardly. “I took a chance—it should be hot in a minute.” The movie star’s smile glued Julia’s feet to the floor.

  “Are all the people around here as nice as you?” Katarina asked, her long chestnut-brown hair framing the face that made Julia lightheaded.

  “No, I’m the only one.”

  Verralta’s laugh was warm and genuine.

  “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back in a few.”

  Julia had to concentrate to not drop the tray of food and the bottle of wine when she returned. The sight of her movie idol in her restaurant was one thing, but up close, Julia now wondered why they always made her look so much younger on-screen. You’re so much more beautiful like this.

  “That lasagna smells fabulous. My stomach just growled.”

  “Wait until you taste it. Grandmother Lucia was no pushover in the kitchen. This wine is a Sancerre that I’ve been saving for a special occasion, Miss Verralta. And special occasions don’t come any more special than this out here in the desert—especially on a rainy Tuesday night.”

  “Pull up a glass, Julia. My friends call me Rina. Do you know of a hotel nearby? I’ve been on the road for hours and I think driving in the rain has exhausted me.”

  Julia joined her and took a sip of the Sancerre. “I’m afraid up near Palm Springs is the closest you’ll find, and that’s another long, dark, hour and ten—longer in the rain.” She poured Rina more wine. “However, I have a little casita on my property. It’s actually my sculpting studio. It’s clean, has a good bed and you’re welcome to it. I’m on private property so no one will disturb you there.”

  “Oh, no. I couldn’t.”

  “Don’t think twice. It’s really the only game in town. By the look of tonight’s sky, the rain’s going to get worse before it gets better.”

  “Really, Julia? I’d be so grateful. I can drive you home and you can deal with your car tomorrow.” She took another steaming forkful of lasagna. “This is so delicious you could patent it. You are an angel.”

  The next time Julia left the Starlight Diner, Nicki didn’t even cross her mind.

  Chapter Eleven

  A torrent of sensation flooded Julia each time she stole a glance of Rina by dashboard light. Working hard to act normal, she called out the occasional turn. “Go slow around the bend. Take the next right.” Finally, midway down the second dark country road she said, “Get ready to stop…right here.” Julia hopped out of the Jaguar and unlocked the gate beneath the arch standing guard above it with the words “Y2 Ranch” scrolled on it.

  “A real ranch?” Rina said when Julia got back into the car.

  “It’s not a working ranch anymore, but I still keep a couple of horses here. That’s the main house up ahead. The casita is next to it on the right.”

  Rina parked between the two buildings.

  “I’ll get some lights on. Follow me.” Julia flicked the switch on the side of the house and lit the path. She picked up Rina’s suitcase and led her inside the sculpting studio.

  The delicate glow from the wall sconces buffered the light trailing down from the loft as its beam settled into the dark-sand-colored walls. “Welcome to the Y2, Miss Verralta.”

  “This is beautiful,” said Rina as she came through the arched wooden doorway and took stock of the room. “Look at all these horse sculptures! Did you make these?”

  “Yes. I’ve been riding since I could walk. So I sculpt what I know, in addition to the things I find most beautiful.”

  “You’re more talented than the artists selling in Beverly Hills galleries.”

  “No.” Julia paused. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. I’ve spent a minor fortune on my art collection.” Rina toured the horses, running her hand along the mane of an Arabian forever poised to gallop. She approached the only piece covered by a tarp. “What’s under here?” she asked, reaching for it.

  Julia leapt across the room and placed her hand over Rina’s to keep her from revealing it. “Sorry, you can’t see it. It’s a work-in-progress.” She felt like she was standing on pillows, unable to quite feel the floor beneath her feet, when she touched Rina’s hand and looked into her eyes. Those eyes.

  “Julia, I haven’t even paid you for dinner. And please allow me to pay for the accommodations.”

  “Oh, no. I wish the place was more fitting for someone like you. Clean and comfortable is all I have to offer.”

  Rina held out a few hundred dollar bills. “Please take it.”

  “No way. You haven’t any idea how many times your movies have lifted me out of this small town. Taken me to places I didn’t even know I wanted to go.”

  Silent, Rina stared at her.

  “A-Are you
blushing?” Julia asked.

  “It sure feels like I am. My cheeks are suddenly very warm.”

  “Imagine that. A big star like you blushing,” Julia chuckled. “Who’da thunk? Upstairs in the loft is the bed and bathroom, and there’s water and snacks down here in the mini fridge.” She pointed to the other side of the room. “I’ll leave the back porch light on in case you want to raid the kitchen, but if we lose power from the storm, there’s a flashlight by the casita’s door.”

  Rina’s eyes smiled at her. “What have I done to deserve you, Julia Dearling?”

  “I’m certain you deserve a lot better than me.”

  Rina tossed back her hair and caught Julia’s eye. “I don’t know that they make them any better than you.” She yawned.

  “I’ll go so you can get some rest. Make yourself at home and sweet dreams.”

  Too excited to go to sleep, Julia entered the house and lit a fire in the great room. When she finally made it upstairs and climbed into her bed, she tried counting sheep; then she tried counting Katarinas. She tossed and turned, thinking about the goddess-at-large who was occupying her casita. I might never wash those sheets again.

  Somewhere around her hundredth toss—or maybe it was a turn—she dozed off while replaying the evening yet again in her mind. She’d give anything to awaken to those shimmering sea-green eyes, to have those soft hands glide down her back. The fantasy jarred her awake again. That thought was over-the-top—even for a romantic like herself.

  It was no use. She couldn’t sleep. According to her clock, her longest stint of unconsciousness had lasted only fifteen minutes, and that had been an hour earlier. At two a.m., she got out of bed with a groan, poured a glass of wine, and rebuilt the fire until the room glowed a roaring orange. She piled pillows on the floor, warmed herself by the fire, and eventually dozed off. Minutes after she fell asleep, though, she awoke to a full-blown thunderstorm. Julia listened to the rain thrash the windows and took solace in the irregular flaming spikes in the fireplace.

  When she heard the kitchen door squeak, she wiped the speck of sleep from her eyes and stood. The fireplace’s golden orange glow reached clear across the room to illuminate the long-haired beauty standing in the archway.

  “I’m sorry if I woke you, Julia,” Rina said softly. “Big thunderstorms scare me.”

  To Julia, the room’s glimmer exposed the chiseled beauty of Rina’s age—made her eyes appear phosphorescent. Incapable of producing a coherent thought, Julia strode silently to where Rina awaited her with sleepy eyes, behind which Julia knew burned a passionate woman. She could feel it. The look in those eyes ignited in Julia all the desire she had ever wanted to feel, had ever wanted to express, but never had. The movie star averted her eyes. Julia’s fingertips barely brushed the skin of Rina’s cheek, then tilted the woman’s chin upward until their eyes met again.

  Without so much as a sigh, Julia pressed the actress back against the wall and kissed her passionately. Took Rina’s breath away. Her lips trailed down Rina’s neck while her hands pulled the woman from the wall and firmly against her body. With shallow and ragged breaths, Rina glided her hands down Julia’s back.

  “I haven’t stopped thinking of you for a moment,” Rina whispered in her ear. Then she shuddered at a thunderclap.

  Julia spoke between kisses, leading her toward the pillows by the hearth. “Come with me,” she said as they sank to the floor.

  Rina moaned when Julia laid her back, thick waves of hair spilling away from her face. Julia straddled her, her fingertips tracing the woman’s neck, the hard nipples under the silk nightgown she was wearing. Julia stripped off her oversized sleep shirt, then, looking deep into Rina’s eyes, she tore the silk gown from her body. Thunderclaps crashed, then echoed through the walls, and Rina pulled her against skin made hot by the fire and the scorching rush between them. Julia drowned herself in Rina’s stare, sliding her naked body deliberately along Rina’s length, allowing every inch of their skin to meet in an avalanche of yearning.

  Julia tried to hold back, tried to be gentle with her passion, but she lost every ounce of self-control for the first time in her life. Her coarse and pent-up desire broke free all over the woman beneath her. Here, now, there was no difference between them. One was much older—famous, the other seriously younger—unknown. None of it mattered naked in front of the fire.

  “Oh, my god, Rina.”

  There would be no settling for merely pleasant or enjoyable—the way she had with Nicki and every other girl she’d known. This kind of sex reeked of raw midbrain, that sensory, there’s-a-meteor-headed-for-Earth kind of passion. Rina rolled on top of her, her chestnut waves spilling onto Julia’s skin as Julia opened herself to receive the woman’s touch.

  “You’re unbelievable,” Rina whispered, her body locked against Julia’s—her velvety hands touching Julia in ways she’d always longed to be touched.

  Julia breathed in her lover’s scent, swallowed Rina’s every need, and then relinquished to Rina everything inside of her. Their bodies intertwined, Julia became acutely aware of every sensation—from the incessant pounding of the rain on the roof to the irreverent craving coursing through her. She felt fully awake for the first time in her life.

  To this woman whose touch set Julia’s skin on fire, Julia surrendered her entire inner world. Rina’s full lips and adoring mouth transported her into a new world, where each level of desire welcomed her home.

  In their final moments of abandon, long after they’d begun, Rina’s gorgeous glow-in-the-dark eyes rolled back in her head and a groan erupted from deep inside her. Julia gave her a minute to recover, then pulled the blanket from the couch and covered them both.

  “I’m sorry about your nightgown,” Julia whispered with a hint of a smile. “I’ll be happy to replace it.”

  Rina laid her head on Julia’s shoulder and sighed. The fire crackled, and rain now overflowed the gutters and washed down the windows. “Not necessary, but I’d prefer not leaving here naked.”

  “Take anything you want—just don’t go.”

  With each minute that passed, they held on a little tighter, kissed a little longer—sighed deeper.

  “I want to tell you how beautiful I think you are, Rina, but I can’t even imagine how many times you’ve heard that…how meaningless it must be to hear it.”

  “It wouldn’t be if you said it, Julia.”

  “Do you mean that?”

  “I’m lying here thinking how I’ve waited a lifetime for fate to intervene—to feel what I’m feeling with you right now. But now that it’s happened, I’m totally unprepared. I don’t even know what to do with this.”

  Julia chuckled. “Clearly, you know what to do with this. I’m sure a lot of women would say the same.”

  “I think you have the wrong idea about me.”

  “Meaning?”

  “I live a very isolated existence.”

  “Because you’re so famous?”

  “There’s that obstacle. But I haven’t been with anyone in a long time. In fact, I’ve been away on a soul-searching journey for the past month.”

  “Did you find it? Your soul?”

  Rina kissed her and gazed into Julia’s eyes. “I’m thinking I’m staring straight at it. If not, I’m definitely soul-adjacent. Right now, all I want is to stop time—to stay like this with you.”

  “Um, are you acting right now?”

  “No. This is a first for me. I really don’t know what to make of meeting you. Touching you this way.” She sighed. “I can’t get enough of you.”

  Julia stroked Rina’s hair. “You? You don’t know what to make of it? I’m thinking I’m in some drug-induced dream.”

  “What if I’ve been alone so long because I had to wait for you to grow up? I don’t even want to know how old you aren’t.”

  “I won’t be indelicate by asking your age, Rina.”

  “You can find it on Wikipedia, if you’re interested.”

  “I don’t care about our age
difference.”

  Rina hesitated. “I do,” she whispered.

  Julia shifted up onto her elbow and gazed down into Rina’s now yellow-hazel cat-eyes. “Why?”

  “Because it doesn’t make my aging crisis any easier. Our age difference isn’t measured only in years, it’s more like generations.”

  “So what?”

  Rina smirked. “That’s what everyone who enters into an inappropriate liaison says in the beginning.”

  “Rina, look into my eyes. I. Don’t. Care.”

  “But the difference in our bodies, in the lines on our faces—”

  Julia shut her down with a steamy, lingering kiss. “I don’t care,” she repeated softly.

  “But I do. It’s okay. After all, we’re just two people whose paths crossed on a rainy night. Right?”

  Julia gently touched Rina’s cheek and then traced the lines next to her eye. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had a one-night stand before.”

  Julia awoke with a slow stretch. As she slid into consciousness, she wondered if it had all been an outrageous dream—until she breathed in the scent of Katarina doused in Dior. She reached out for Rina but felt only empty space. Naked, she bolted to the window, but the Jaguar was gone. She pulled the blanket around her and fell back onto the sofa.

  “Not even a goodbye?”

  For all that Julia had felt—had done with this woman all night long—Rina hadn’t even woken her to say goodbye. A sliver of dread crept in and then widened, and through that gaping wound, her emotional lifeblood seeped out and pooled around her. She didn’t think she could feel more alone than she did in that moment.

  Dumped twice in one night! First by a woman I don’t love, then by a woman I’m already in love with. Julia put on a pot of coffee and resisted the urge to go into her studio and throw a mound of clay against the wall—her work-in-progress even—and destroy it. Rina had been inside the casita. Rina had been inside the house. Rina had been…inside her.

  She picked up the phone and called Cass. “Can you pick me up on your way in today? I want to work, but my car died at the diner last night.”