by Amber Burns
“Astra was shoveling her car out yesterday. Liam was supposed to have helped, but,” she rolls her eyes, folding her arms.
“It’s fine. I told him it’s okay.” Astra’s shiver doesn’t pass my survey. I’m ready to bundle her up and get her inside my car – I’m also thinking of all the ways I can warm her once we get to hers, but that’s another place, a later time.
“He’s seventeen and grounded indefinitely. Astra, you sure as hell can tell him what to do. I gave you permission and him explicit instruction to help you.”
Holly is rallying up by the looks of it. I’m ready to be forgotten again, only the entrance to the school swings open and my time with Astra and Holly comes to a close.
5
Tzatza Lopez would be a sight to behold if she tried toning it down. I say this from experience: I watched this woman go from marrying Custodio, to molding herself into the image of a trophy wife which cost her husband a boob job and ongoing Botox injections. And that’s only what I can see and have been told of.
Lola’s mother is wearing heels, unlike normal sane people, and taking longer to reach me. But her eyes are particularly searing through me…undressing me and doing Lord-knows what other things in that head of hers.
“Ryker.” Her painted lips might have quirked up, but the collagen is making it impossible to tell if she’s smiling. “You’re here.”
I give her my hand out of fear for her breaking her neck over her poor choice in footwear rather than a desire to. Chivalry is, unfortunately, not dead for me.
“I hope you didn’t wait long,” her sea-green eyes ringed by a cloud of black and long lashes zero in on me. I don’t return the squeeze from her hand, dropping it as soon as I can.
“Even if I did, I had good company,” I drag her attention to Astra and Holly.
The women greet each other civilly enough, though there’s an undercurrent of something uncomfortable between them.
Introducing them is going to be a challenge, but Holly does that mind-reading thing again.
“Mrs. Lopez,” she nods. “I didn’t think you two knew each other.”
That’s right. Holly didn’t get the 4-1-1 on my connection to the Lopezes. And by the looks of it, Liam didn’t spill his guts to his mother. Astra had to have a hand in that.
“Ryker is Lolinda’s godfather,” Astra says, startling when Lola’s mother pierces her with those bright, calculating eyes.
Tzatza’s brows don’t lower as she hums her agreement. “Ryker is a family friend.”
“Yes, he told me that.”
“When?” since her brows can’t hike up her voice does. Tzatza is practically buzzing by my side, and when Astra doesn’t answer as readily as she deems appropriate, she snaps, “I didn’t think you had time to talk to anyone. Lola tells me you’re quite dedicated to your line of work.”
I give Tzatza a hard look that doesn’t go unnoticed.
It isn’t quick to cool Holly’s annoyance from boiling over. “There’s nothing wrong with working, Mrs. Lopez. Better than lazying around.”
In an effort to break up the impending doom and gloom claiming both the other women’s expressions, Astra pipes up with, “Ryker came by a few days ago. Thursday, wasn’t it? He came to pick up Lolinda.” Astra looks to me.
Is it me or am I imagining she looks even weaker than before? She’s pulling up her scarf again, burrowing into the heavy-looking wool.
“We should probably head out of the cold.” I say it as much out of concern for Astra as I want to stop the bickering. A guy between three – or two women fighting doesn’t spell well for the guy.
I shudder at the idea of being put on the spot to choose sides. Not that it would be hard, Astra hasn’t said anything to defend herself against Lola’s mother.
But that would pit me against Tzatza and wouldn’t that care over well with Custodio, the bastard preparing my wedding invitations before his daughter’s handed out her for her birthday.
Pulling out my key fob, I get the car started and warmed from the steps of the school.
“We’re having a dinner party.” I say.
“Yes,” Tzatza nods, suddenly sounding more eager to leave than I do.
Difference is she looks ready to forget all about this unpleasantness and anything and everything to do with Holly and Astra.
I am not.
“We’re heading to dinner with some old friends of mine. I’d love if you could join us, as my guests,” I stress, turning to get Tzatza’s approval. It is her house, after Custodio’s, and I’m going to have to go through her to get some more time with Astra.
Lips in a thin, dark plum line, Tzatza blinks several times before her languishing tone rejoins my offer. “Yes, there’s more than enough food and seats. Unless you have other plans?”
I burrow my gaze on Astra more than Holly; one because the latter probably doesn’t want to spend another second breathing the same air as Tzatza Lopez if she has to and secondly as I don’t expect Astra would feel welcome without Holly’s company.
Despite my initial impression of her it’s clear my sexy counsellor is more unstable in her environment than Holly. I can see their polite refusals on the tips of their tongue and through their brief shared look. I have to change that and fast.
“The ladies were just mentioning the council meeting. Tzatza, you’re on the council as the treasurer, right?”
“Secretariat,” she corrects, disapproval tilting her lips – at least I think that’s disapproval and I think she’s frowning; the trouble with collagen…
“Great place to talk about the meeting would be over whatever dinner’s going to be.”
Tzatza is quiet for a moment then she nods. “Then allow me to extend my invite, Dr. Olsen and…”
“Holly Chandler.” Gritting out her name, Holly keeps her face otherwise smooth, professional, every bit the businesswoman Astra’s told me.
“Yes, well, please join us for dinner. We’d love the company. And dinner does call,” Tzatza says, leading the way, slowly.
I purposefully sidle to Astra’s side, Holly on the other side. Tzatza leads the way to my SUV rental. She’s out of earshot for my apology.
“You’re way too nice to be associated with her,” Holly bares her straight, white teeth. With her pixie cut warm blonde hair, and blue eyes, the anger is softened by the more angelic, cutesy outward image.
I know better though.
“I’m glad you’re coming to dinner though,” the warmth is hard to hide as I brush my hand over Astra’s. The gloves we’re both wearing prevent skin-ship, but on my end it might as well be touching her.
What can I say? I’m more of a romantic fool than I thought.
“Did you come here separately?”
“No,” Astra says, muffled behind her scarf.
“I drove by Astra’s. We live pretty close.”
I don’t mention that I know that already from spending a night at Astra’s.
Holly is still speaking, “Now that I think about it, you might have gotten sick because of me. All those trips with soup – oh, now I feel bad.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Astra sounded weaker.
With a renewed spurt of worry, I ask, “Do you mind if we take my car then?”
“As long as we can drop mine off at my place. I don’t think I can sneak overnight parking here.” She nods to the fences pulled apart at the entrance/exit of the parking lot. “They shut those after a certain time; I bet they kept them open this late for the meeting-goers.”
“That’s fine,” I raise a hand to Tzatza who pokes her head out and gestures impatiently.
She’s drawing out her phone, explaining, “Besides, I have to check in on Liam and Mrs. Gervais, our neighbor and his sitter for the night. Or should I say parole officer?” The grin implies she doesn’t feel an ounce apologetic for depriving a seventeen-year-old of his independence.
Nobody tells Tzatza the plan. We wait for Holly to draw her car into her garage and go inside to check o
n her son and Mrs. Gervais.
Then sliding in beside Astra, Holly gives the go and we’re going. The Lopezes live on the other side, the shore end or east of Orange Compass.
The properties on this side are the larger, expensive-looking places belonging to most of the kids attending St. B&J, and the rest of the population are boarders.
Yeah, St. B&J owns property other than its, um, property. There’s housing near the school as well, monitored by 24/7 staff to keep the under aged students out of trouble.
I lower the window to buzz at the gate, waiting for the hidden cameras to clear me and my passengers through. Beyond the gate the Lopez residence looms, lurking in its own generated bright light when the rest of the world was a slash of black sky and snow-white Earth.
I draw the car up the long drive, aware the automatic gates are shifting close in my rearview mirror. I’m also watching Astra’s reaction; she’s sitting up, alert and still, gaze enticed by the sights outside her window.
“Just park here,” Tzatza’s cool glove over mine on the clutch between our seats zones me to my task. Crashing into the house because I couldn’t keep my eyes on Astra wouldn’t give either of us a good impression of our hosts.
Tzatza is sailing out of the car long before I kill the engine.
“She’s probably freezing, serves her right for dressing like that,” Holly observes coolly from behind. I chuckle; happy someone else noticed and is brave enough to comment.
Pillared by two Ionic posts, the porch is brightly lit, flashing its white sandstone flooring in the sweeping darkness of the rest of the lot. Tzatza left the door open in her wake, bringing in the cold with us to the foyer.
“Leave your boots here. There should be slippers somewhere.” I tell Astra and Holly when they look between them, their awkwardness plain on their face. I’m about to go searching for said slippers, narrowly dodging collision with Dan.
“About time. Thought we’d die of hunger waiting for your ass to show up,” he swings an arm over my shoulder, ignoring my stab at trying to pulling his arm off.
“Where did you go?” He asks, steering me towards the large dining room on the opposite end of the family room and the fanning staircase splitting both sides. A glance behind confirms Holly and Astra are following. Good on them.
“Found him.” Dan announces.
Jesse waves a drum stick at my entrance; looking way too young as usual for a guy with three years on both Dan and I, he’s hands-down the mature one in our trio. Dude makes us look like we’re in our diapers – even now.
“Man,” Jesse says, clapping my hand and fist bumping across the table. The effort upsets the arrangement of his and the two placements beside him from the neat arrangement.
Pulling me back from the table and Jesse, Dan wrestles a hand over my hand and I lightly sock his stomach to get my freedom.
Naturally Jesse notices our guests first.
“I brought company.” I say.
“Oh?” Dan, finally catching up, gives our guests an up-down survey. “I should have noticed two beautiful women.”
“Back up, Casanova,” I shove a hand against his chest, aware of the hot stab of annoyance shooting through me when Astra flusters over Dan’s open appraisal.
Jesse laughs on his standing and rounding the table to meet the ladies.
“Jesse Black,” he smiles at Holly’s introduction, catching and releasing her hand for Astra’s. “That’s Daniel Wright.”
“Dan,” the latter corrects, smile as smooth as cream.
Jesse shakes his head. “I should be thanking you for saving me from these two.”
“Hey,” Dan and I are in synch. Everyone laughs, but I’m looking over at Astra, glad to see she’s faring better once out of the cold.
“So how do you know this loser?” Dan hitches a thumb in my direction. “You classy ladies can’t have wanted to be seen with him.”
“He’s persuasive,” Astra says, drawing out of her scarf.
She’s working it from her neck along with her coat, giving us a view of her long flowing shirt over her dark denims. The V cut to the paisley print rides low over her chest, the swell of her breasts tightening my pants, making me consider skipping dinner and taking her home for a private show.
“Persuasive, huh?” Dan’s sultry drawl earns a growl from me.
Astra looks surprised, like she isn’t aware of how delicious she is, of Dan’s obvious flirting, and my jealousy.
Jealousy. That’s new.
“Where do I…?” Astra trails off, approaching the long table seating ten comfortably. There are table mats everywhere: Custodio once said it’s important to be ready for any moment, any guest. I never cared for his careful planning and obvious neurosis, it clearly is paying off now.
“Here.”
I draw a chair for her, intending to sit beside her. Dan has the same idea.
“Great,” he grins, “we’re seat buddies.”
Holly’s losing her coat, too. She’s being led across the table by Jesse while he delves into our college meeting story. Like Astra, Holly’s dressed to impress. Her black, slim jeans are paired with a white suit jacket broken up with by the effervescent purple-pink of her blouse.
Beside Jesse’s black, fitted tee shirt and light wash jeans, she looks even more fancy. Not that our drummer bats an eyelash, holding out his hands for her coat and divesting it over the chair beside his original seat.
“Thank you,” Holly murmurs at Jesse’s politely pulling a chair out for her. Her cheeks crimson, not as bright or tantalizing as my Astra’s, but she’s definitely embarrassed and speechless. It all goes over Jesse’s closely shaved head.
Most of it passes Jesse: If it isn’t music or his older sister and their long-widowed mother, Jesse’s clueless. Having met the female half of his genes, I know where his good breeding hails from.
I can’t say the same for Dan, taking my silence and distraction as an opportunity to woo Astra.
“Shouldn’t you be tucking your napkin under your chin or something?” I tease, but there’s the dark tentacles of jealousy turning my thoughts towards malice, sharpening my voice.
“Har har,” Dan pulls his sleeves up and picks up a knife and fork, dropping his fists on the table hard enough to rattle the rest of his cutlery and Astra’s nearby. “Bring on the food.”
Busy with his stomach, and Holly and Jesse as wrapped in their conversation as they are, I’m free to study Astra’s profile. She acknowledges me with a brief smile, coppery waves cascading over her shoulders as she settles back in her seat, gaze meandering to the rest of the room.
Since I’ve seen Custodio’s house time and time again to the point where I can draw the layout for most of the property, I’m all about Astra.
“Isn’t he creeping you out?” Dan sweeps a tanned hand over his growing beard. He’s leaning on the table over Astra.
“Says the mountain man. That thing keeps growing or is just me?” I’m close to snarling. Leveling the irritation is hard, but I remind myself this is Dan, my bandmate and friend of twenty-some years, and though we’ve butted heads, it never has and will be over a woman.
Even Astra.
“Hey, the beard is off-topic.” He says, stroking his hairy extra like it’s Cousin Itt on his face.
I scoff but stay silent.
Under the table I locate Astra’s hands clasped over her lap. My palm absorbs her heat for the shocking fraction it takes her to turn her hand to me.
Palms kissing, I entwine our fingers and squeeze my gratitude and she, thankfully, tightens her grip in answer.
God. I want her so much.
6
Our one day apart is killing me.
“Damn. If I’d known OC was going to be getting you lovely ladies years later, I wouldn’t have ever left.” Dan is saying; he’s riveted on Astra.
“You used to live here too? Like Ryker?” Holly asks. She and Jesse are back from whatever private world they’d entered.
“Yeah. We go back
, me and this guy.” Attention drawn from Astra, Dan turns his appreciative gaze to Holly. “We moved after college. Newark. Promised each other we’d board together and keep us from drifting back to town.”
“You were in Newark?” Holly might have sounded like she’d settled into OC, but I wouldn’t label her tone anything less than fawning as she speaks of the city.
“And that’s where they met me,” Jesse smiles, blond brows almost invisible and blue eyes brighter under the spotlighting from the two smaller chandeliers above the dining area. The drumsticks have made it into his hands again.
