He nodded. “Yeah! Romi, Alta and Woody will be there! My whole family! I never got to do stuff like this when Mom was alive. She avoided her family.”
I thought about what he said for a moment before responding. “Louis? I’m really sorry I didn’t know your mom that well. I wish I had.”
My son arched his right eyebrow. “Really? She told me the same thing once. That she wished she’d gotten to know you better.”
That kind of stunned me. “Oh. I didn’t know that.” I cleared my throat. “Are you mad at me?”
His eyes grew wide. “No. Why would I be?”
I shrugged and picked at a piece of the carpet with the toe of my shoe. Louis made me feel like I was the six-year-old.
“I don’t know. I just wanted you to know that . . . well . . . I love you and I’m glad you’re here.”
Louis flew into my arms, crushing me with his embrace. “I love you too, Dad,” came the muffled reply.
I set him down, trying discreetly to brush away a tear as I did so. “So, you like the Bombay family?” I tried to change the subject. My heart was beating so violently I thought I was having a heart attack.
“Oh yeah! My cousins are cool, and I love Grandma and Grandpa! Paris and Missi are a lot of fun to talk to, and Gin and Liv are like having two moms! Although I do think it’s weird no one in this family seems to have a day job. But after this trip to Santa Muerta, I figure we’re all independently wealthy.”
Maybe this would’ve been the right time to tell him what the Bombay family business was. Romi and Alta had started their training last year. And Woody was four years away from his first kill. They all knew.
But something held me back. Louis was a genius. He wouldn’t just take the information and live with it. Chances are, my kid would analyze it – bring up the ethical questions most of us spent our whole lives avoiding. It was a pretty safe bet to think Louis would not join us without a fight. I’d have to do something I’d never done before – prepare. Make sure I had good reasons for what we do. Maybe I should talk to Liv and Gin about it.
So, I changed the subject and we spent the afternoon planning the party. Louis chose hot dogs, hamburgers and a decorated cake depicting the wonders of the Gobi Desert. I’m not kidding.
So, on a Saturday afternoon, my family stood in a semi-circle in Gin’s backyard, ready to meet Leonie. I made my introductions and Leonie laughed. The Bombay family rushed to mob her, and I realized everything was going to be okay.
“Wow, Dak.” Gin sat down next to me at the picnic table. “She’s amazing. I’m kind of in shock.” She took a drink from her bottle of beer and winked at me.
I watched as Liv, Mom and Leonie talked animatedly a few yards away. “I guess I’ve never brought anyone home to meet the family before.”
“And this one has a brain. Very cool,” Gin said.
I punched my sister in the arm. “Are you saying I didn’t date intelligent women before?”
“With the exception of Louis’s mom, yes.” Gin motioned toward my son, who was seriously engaged in a water gun fight with his cousins, Diego, Paris and Liv’s husband, Todd. It felt so . . . so suburban.
“Missi ran the DNA test on Louis. He is my son, I think I can claim some of that intelligence.”
“No, little brother. It definitely didn’t come from you. I think he gets it from me.”
I gave her my best evil eye as Liv joined us. “I have a son. How cool is he?”
“He’s amazing!” Liv gushed. “And Leonie’s great too. Hell has definitely frozen over today.”
“Oh, come on!” I protested. “You had to know that this might happen someday!”
My sister and cousin shook their heads simultaneously. Gin spoke up, “You are growing up.” Liv added insult to injury by nodding in agreement.
I focused on Leonie as she chatted happily with Mom and Dad. She was nothing like any woman I’d dated before. I knew she was special, and we hadn’t even slept together yet. We haven’t really even made out! The old Dak would be panicking right now. But I wasn’t the old Dak, was I?
What was it about her that invaded my thoughts, day and night? She was smart, funny and didn’t put up with my bullshit. I should hate that in a woman. But Leonie Doubtfire was different. She was like a best friend.
Huh? It startled me to think of a woman as a buddy. That was impossible. And if she were a friend, I wouldn’t be attracted to her. And yet, I was.
“Hey, Gin,” I started, “can Louis spend the night?”
“Of course. Why?”
I shuffled my feet under the table, then ran my fingers through my hair. “I think tonight’s the night with Leonie.” I can’t believe I just said that. In fact, it looked like Gin and Liv couldn’t believe it either, by the way their jaws hung open.
“What are you saying?” Gin asked.
I could feel a blush coming on. This was completely alien to me. “It means what it means.”
Liv looked from me to Gin, then back to me. “You mean you two haven’t . . .”
“You and Leonie haven’t slept together yet?” Gin finished.
I nodded. They fainted. Okay, so I’m just making that part up. But judging by their reaction, that’s what should’ve happened. I guess I could understand that. They’ve known me as a player since I was sixteen. Even I still couldn’t believe it.
Liv, normally a wine drinker, opened a bottle of beer and chugged it. Wow. I’d never seen her do that before. Gin couldn’t stop staring at me. Apparently, they were in shock. Problem was, so was I.
When the cookout ended, I led Leonie through the receiving line of well-wishers, and out to my car. She didn’t ask where we were going, and I was so excited I don’t think I could’ve answered her. I was pretty sure I was going to get laid. No, scratch that. I was going to make love to Leonie. I was going to make love perhaps for the first time ever. And I was scared shitless.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“An assassin without confidence is a horrible thing to behold. It’s like a relief pitcher who fumbles the ball.”
- Julian Noble, The Matador
Man, I was completely messed up. My hands were shaking, my heart was pounding and for a moment I flirted with the idea of dropping everything to see a neurologist. I had trouble getting the key into the lock.
I felt like Chevy Chase playing Gerald Ford. Upon entering the condo, I became a stumbling oaf. I tripped on the hall rug, smashing the hall table in the process. I left it where it lay, a splintered casualty of my nerves. Apparently, my brain was not sending the right messages to my arms and legs. I skidded down the hallway to the living room wondering if an unknown assailant had broken in and recklessly waxed my floor. I led her to the sofa, and fortunately, Leonie wisely ignored it when I fell backward over the hassock.
Somehow I managed to sit on the couch without impaling myself on the sculpture next to it. When I ran my fingers through Leonie’s hair, the dark, red strands knotted around my ring. I started to pull my hand away, only to have her cry out in pain. This was going so well. Were Gin and Paris watching me on a planted video camera right now? I wouldn’t put it past them.
As I leaned toward her (forcing my sister and best friend from my thoughts), my right hand still stuck in her hair, we actually hit our front teeth together. Somehow her lip was caught in the middle, and as I pulled away I could see I’d given her a fat lip. And who the hell turned up my thermostat?
In spite of all of this, (and I know this will sound weird) I was really turned on. Just looking at Leonie, smelling her hair, touching her skin, sent shivers to all the appropriate body parts. I wanted her so badly my stomach hurt.
I pulled back for a moment. “Why are you here?”
She laughed. “Well, for starters, you invited me. And I wanted to come over.”
“Why?” I persisted. Suddenly, I had to know why this amazing woman was interested in me. Wait a minute. I never cared about that before! But for some reason, with Leonie, I did.
“What
do you mean, why?”
“I just wanted to know why you picked me.” I said.
Leonie studied me for a moment. “Somehow, I get the impression you never asked anyone that before.” When all I did was shrug, she continued. “There’s something about you, Dak. I’m very attracted to you.”
“Why?” Dammit! What the hell was wrong with me? It was like having an out-of-body experience – one where I couldn’t stop myself if I wanted to.
For a moment, I thought I’d pushed her too far. Maybe if she thought about it too much, she’d realize she wasn’t attracted to me. What have I done?
“I find your vulnerability endearing.” She said quietly with a smile. “I love how you get tongue-tied around me, as if I was the first woman to do that to you. You make me feel like I’m the most desirable person in the world.”
For a moment – just a moment – I thought she was insulting me. Vulnerable? Tongue-tied? That wasn’t me! I was suave and worldly. Did this mean she didn’t see that?
“Dak,” Leonie pulled me against her. “I want you. Don’t ruin it.”
Leonie’s lips were soft on mine. All of the sudden, I forgot what to do! A sense of panic hit me and it felt like the room was spinning. She seemed calm. What the hell was wrong with me? Maybe I needed to lie down.
“Why don’t we take this into the bedroom?” Leonie whispered in my ear. I did one of those cartoon "GULP"s and nodded. We walked into what had once been my playboy lair. Now it seemed like an alien room with furniture I didn’t even recognize.
Leonie kissed me, then abandoned me to use the bathroom. I stood there, frozen to the spot where she left me, unable to think of what to do. Shit! This had never happened to me before! Think, Dak, think!
I was still standing there when Leonie returned and wrapped her long arms around me, pulling me into a kiss. I’m not certain how she managed that, since my head was spinning on my neck like a top. What was it with this chick? I was completely messed up!
What happened next was a blur. There was a whole host of sensations involving hands, fingers, lips and tongues. The outside of my body was performing, but my innards felt like the inside of a lava lamp. I barely remember our clothes coming off, or slipping beneath the sheets. All I could see where those hypnotic grey eyes framed by a cloud of silky, red curls. I hoped she’d know what to do. I’d forgotten what happens when you get a naked man and a naked woman together.
Leonie guided my body into hers and I felt a surge of crushing emotion. What was this? It was as if all my organs has swollen up with helium, and I was about to take flight.
Oh my god. I had to stop this. I had to channel George Clooney instead of Woody Allen. That very idea turned it around.
I started to take control of the situation, like I used to. From my position on top, I kissed her lips, then her chin, slipping down to the lovely notch of her long, pale throat. Leonie sighed and I became bolder. I wanted to make this night memorable, not come across as a bungling fool.
My lips sought the cleft between her perfect, small breasts and I nuzzled each nipple until she moaned beneath me. It felt so good to make her feel good – something I’d never noticed before. Cupping her shapely ass, I found her sweet spot. It only took a few moments to make her come, and it was so good for her, it felt like I’d climaxed too.
Leonie flipped me over, climbing on top and once I was inside her, she began to rock back and forth, never taking her eyes off of mine. I winced as I realized I’d never thought of my past lovers as people. Shoving that aside, I closed my eyes against the intensity of her gaze before my orgasm washed over me like a tidal wave.
I felt so terrified and wonderful, I started to cry. Yup. You heard me.
The more I tried to stop, the faster the tears came. I lay there, on my back, arms around Leonie – whose hair covered my chest, and wept. The intensity of what happened stunned me. And I didn’t know what the hell to do.
Fortunately, Leonie fell asleep and I just lay there, wondering what was happening.
The deep, homey tang of bacon teased me awake. I was naked and alone in bed, but someone was making breakfast. This I understood – recognizing the smell of meat and knowing that a woman was here.
I reached for my robe, but it was gone. After fumbling in my drawers for pajamas, I wandered into the hall toward the kitchen.
“’Morning!” Leonie called out brightly as she flipped the eggs and bacon simmering in front of her. My robe hung from her slight frame but it looked incredibly beautiful against her pale skin. She resembled a china doll dressed up in silk.
“Hey.” I kissed her awkwardly and poured a cup of coffee. “How long have you been up?”
I’ve never been good at the morning-after thingy. In fact, unless there was an opportunity for follow-up sex, I usually rushed them through the shower and out the door so I could get on with the next conquest. But this morning was different. This morning, I wanted her to stay.
“Not long. I was hungry. I hope you don’t mind.” She pushed a spiral strand of copper curls from her forehead.
“Of course not. I love having you here.” Oh my God. It was true. I wanted her here for more than sex! Well, that and she was making bacon. Show me a man who’d turn that down.
“Your family is amazing,” Leonie said as she brought two plates to the table and sat down to eat. “Especially Louis.”
I grinned. “Yeah. He’s pretty adorable.”
“I love your sister and cousin. Gin? And Liv? Is her name really Gin Bombay?” She giggled, giving me goose bumps.
“It’s really Virginia or Ginny. But we pretty much shortened it to Gin over the years. It’s much funnier that way.”
Leonie paused, holding her coffee cup. “I have a question that I hope doesn’t offend you.” She waited for me to nod before continuing. “It’s just that I noticed you introduced Gin’s husband as Diego Bombay. Isn’t that your name too?”
Well, at least she didn’t say anything about the dagger -throwing competition at the barbeque, or why there’s a huge keypad in the kitchen locking up Gin’s basement. This was one of the Bombay family quirks I could clue her in on.
“It’s a weird little requirement in my family. If you marry a Bombay woman, you have to take her name. It’s been that way since 2000 BCE. None of the men seem to mind.” I shrugged, “I guess I never really thought about it before.”
Leonie held my gaze for a moment. “Well, I think it’s really cool. Apparently your family is more progressive than most.”
Yeah. We were progressive all right. As long as if you mean by progressive that we kill people we don’t know for money. “So, you got along with everyone?” That was a weird question. Like I was interviewing her for a job.
“I did. They are really terrific. You are so lucky.”
I sat back as she took a few bites of her breakfast. I guess she was right. I usually did think I was lucky to be born rich and unfairly attractive. I just never associated the word luck with my family before.
“And your son, Louis, I adore him!” Leonie giggled. “I’ve never met a kid like that before.”
“Yeah. If it wasn’t for the DNA test, I’d think he wasn’t related to me at all.” Oops.
Leonie arched her right eyebrow. “DNA test?” Uh oh.
I sighed and told her everything about my short acquaintance with my son. For some reason, I told her everything, warts and all. I didn’t even try to make myself sound better. I made a mental note to make an appointment with a neurologist tomorrow.
“Wow,” she said softly. “That’s a lot for a little kid to handle.”
I nodded and realized that for once in my life, I was agreeing with her instead of saying, “What about me? It was tough for me too!”
“And the family made you take the test? That’s pretty cold.”
“Well, it’s really my grandmother who pushed for it. I did it just to keep her happy. I knew Louis was mine.” Or at least, I wanted to believe Louis was mine.
“So, fill
me in on everyone. What they do, what they’re like, that kind of thing,” Leonie said as she curled her legs up under her. I launched head first into a panic attack. According to custom (which was strictly enforced), Bombays didn’t tell their spouse about the family until after they were married and before the first family reunion.
“Enough about my family – how about you? What’s your family like?” Oooh. Smooth.
Leonie considered my question for a moment as she chewed the last of her bacon. “Well, I guess you’d say we’re a bit unconventional.”
Unconventional? I thought I had the market cornered on that.
“Oh yeah,” I remembered, “the family funeral home. You must have had an unusual childhood.”
“It was. But for some, morbid reason, I like it. We grew up with a strange sense of gallows humor. My dad’s brother is also in the business. We have the largest funeral home in the state, back home.”
I reached for the toast. “So, why did you want to break out on your own?” Was that too personal?
She shrugged, “I don’t know. I guess I’m just kind of different from the rest of the family. They’re more traditional. I never really fit in.” She popped some more eggs into her mouth, and I got the impression that this line of conversation was over.
We spent the rest of breakfast talking about mundane things. The conversation wasn’t memorable, but it had such an overwhelming sense of wonder to it.
While she was in the shower, I thought about everything. The way she made me feel – like I’d known her forever. The surge of emotion when we made love. How easily she fit in with my family. How much she loved my son. What started as a rush, slowly became a panic. By the time we were dressed, I was beginning to sweat again. Mental note – check the thermostat to see if it’s set for Hell.
“I’m sorry, Dak,” Leonie said with a frown, “I just got a call from the funeral home. Can you take me back to my car?”
I expelled a huge sigh of relief. For some reason, I wanted her to go and stay at the same time. But I needed time to get my head together. I parked in front of my sister’s house and walked Leonie to her car. She kissed me and winked as she jumped in and drove away.
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