by Alexi Venice
“Are you good with me talking about wedding plans and moving into the house?” Amanda asked Jen.
“Sure. Since I’m making payments, though, do I get to know the price of what I’m buying?” Jen popped the back hatch on the truck, and they each reached in and grabbed bags and a cooler.
“Of course. I’m not exactly sure though. The way I’ve done it in the past with Daddy—”
“Jack,” Jen corrected.
“Right. Jack. For Sea Cliff, I told him what I could afford from my paycheck—about 20% of net—and he applied that to the house equity. Does that method work for you?”
“I see,” Jen said, closing the door. “Did you decide how many years you would make payments? Like when the house would be paid off?”
“Um. Well, I don’t know. I guess I never thought about it because one of their corporations probably owns the real estate, and those are all held in a trust for Nate and me, so, in the end, it will come back to me regardless. Does that make sense?”
Jen stood holding her bags and staring at Amanda. “Why even go through the exercise then?”
“It’s important for the accountants and IRS, I guess. There would be gift taxes if Jack and Chloe just gave us a bunch of shit. We have to buy it from the trust before we inherit everything.”
“Fascinating,” Jen said, drawing out the word. She sounded like she was suddenly unsure. “I’d kind of like to co-own the house at some point, you know?”
“We can discuss that with Da—uh, Jack, tonight. I think that’s important too. Although, once we’re married, you’ll automatically own what I own. So, as long as we keep the accountants happy, then we can go about our business, co-owning everything.”
Jen gave her a weird look.
Amanda felt like she should explain more. Why did important conversations spring up at the least convenient times? She pushed her sunglasses on top of her head and stared into Jen’s eyes. “I’m sorry my family is wealthy. It can be overwhelming at times, maybe even give you the feeling that you’re not independent. I just want you to know that I value what you do as a physician, and I want you to buy and own whatever you want. If it’s important for you to feel financially independent from me, we can work out a system—like separate checking accounts and retirement accounts, or whatever. Please don’t let my wealth discourage you from marrying me.”
Jen nodded and smiled playfully. “Wow. This is a little much for a quick conversation in the driveway, isn’t it?”
Amanda was relieved. “You’re right. Once we’re married, we can sit down with Jack, the accountant, and financial advisor to discuss everything. Okay?”
“I feel kind of weird. You know I’m not marrying you for your money, right?”
Amanda rested her hands on Jen’s shoulders and kissed her. “I know that. You could have whoever you wanted to, but you chose me, making me the luckiest girl in the world.”
Jen laughed. “And the most melodramatic girl in the world. Come on, let’s go inside.”
“Please know that everything will be okay.”
“As long as you and I are together, I know everything will be okay.”
“Me too.” Amanda took the lead, wheeling the cooler toward the house. She had no idea what Jen had in it, but it was heavy.
They were met at the door by Chloe and Nate. Jack had already disappeared inside with Kristin and had obviously mentioned the engagement.
“Jen, Amanda, congratulations!” Chloe gave Jen a light hug then grabbed her hand, admiring the ring. “Gorgeous!”
“Thank you. Amanda has good taste, doesn’t she?”
“Always,” Nate said, admiring the ring. “Welcome to the family, Jen.”
“Thank you.” They hugged briefly.
“I’m so happy everyone is here. Come in.” Chloe held the door.
“Hey, Sis. Congratulations,” Nate said, hugging Amanda.
“Thanks, Nate. How are you?” she asked.
“Excellent. The kids have been going bananas asking for Kristin. It’s been so long since we’ve seen you.”
“Too long,” Amanda said. “Should I wheel this cooler to the kitchen?” she asked Chloe.
“What’s in there?” Chloe asked.
“A side dish and dessert for tonight, and cinnamon rolls for tomorrow morning, among other things,” Jen said.
Chloe squeezed Jen’s hand. “Thank you, dear. Amanda doesn’t cook, you know.”
“Well, I don’t shovel snow or mow the lawn, so she has to do those things.”
Chloe and Nate roared with laughter. “Amanda. Shovel!” Nate said, the absurdity of that image making him laugh even more.
“And, I’ve never seen that girl near a lawn mower!” Chloe teased.
Jen raised her eyebrows at Amanda, who shrugged.
Chapter 23
Hillsborough
“So, how’s the dermatology business going?” Amanda asked Nate after dinner when the two of them were settled around the fire in the backyard.
“I can’t complain. I’m sure my life isn’t as exciting as yours, but I like my patients and my practice,” he said.
“The excitement of being a DA isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Fighting crime can be pretty harrowing, and, as it turns out, pretty fucking ugly.”
He nodded then stood to poke and prod at the logs with the fire poker. “How are you adjusting to work after rehab? And, don’t give me the party line that you gave mom and dad at dinner.”
“Ah…well.” Her voice rose. “To be honest, viewing a murder scene, interviewing suspects—playing the cat and mouse game—takes a toll on me. I can only do so much yoga and play so much cello to escape. Sometimes, I just want the release of a good buzz, you know?”
He smiled in a conspiratorial way.
“And, to make matters worse, I’m being squeezed by a third-world dictator who’s about to post a nude pic of me on the Internet.”
He looked at her like she was mad. “What?”
“True fact. Welcome to my life.”
“A third-world dictator? Who?”
“North Korea. Yon Song-Muk.”
“What’s the connection?”
“He thinks I repossessed the $50 million he stole from the Federal Reserve Bank. In reality, a CIA agent who we worked with clawed it back, but they can’t find her. She’s like Teflon. I’m an easier target, plain and simple.”
“I’m afraid to ask,” Nate said, “but how did he get a nude pic of you?”
“Oh, right. That part of the story,” she said with a laugh. “A few months ago, Jen and I were sexting each other on burner phones, and someone stole mine. Right out of my purse. At my election party! We’re pretty sure it was North Korean operatives, or someone hired by them. They pulled a pic off the phone and sent me an 8x10 glossy with a ransom note for $100,000. Like I’m going to pay that!”
He covered his face. “Blackmailed by North Korea?! Unreal.”
“Crazy, huh?! Listen, don’t say anything in front of Jen. She doesn’t know yet.”
He shook his head and sat down. “I just can’t handle seeing my little sister nude on the Internet.”
“Fear not. I’ll text you when it goes live, so you can avoid the news for a few days.”
“How bad is the pose?”
“Not too bad. I took a selfie from over my head, so you see my entire body. I’m not doing anything lewd.” She stared into the fire rather than making eye contact.
“Your life is too dangerous I’ll take my sleepy, little derm practice any day.”
“Now you know why I need a drink. I started smoking again, but Jen got mad at me and made me quit.”
“Cigarettes?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s stupid. Those things will kill you. If you need a buzz, smoke weed.”
“I couldn’t.”
“Why not? I do.”
“Really? I knew you did in college, but I didn’t know you kept up with it.”
“I’ll take weed over alco
hol any day. I have a beer occasionally, but I usually smoke weed to relax.”
“Huh. I didn’t know.”
“I have some with me. Wanna get high?”
“Oh yes. As the DA, I’m going to engage in that activity,” she said sarcastically.
“For shit sake, Amanda, it’s legal and we’re sitting in our parents’ backyard. Are the North Korean’s lurking in the bushes with a camera?”
She watched as he removed a small pipe and plastic baggy from his jacket pocket. He selected a green bud and tapped it into the bowl.
She shook her head. “I’m an elected official.”
“Bah. Have you ever been high?”
“Of course. I tried it in college.”
“A lot has changed since then. The new strains are cultivated to be much more potent and deliver specific types of highs. I have some Sativa, which is sort of uplifting and energizing. It doesn’t make you a dunderhead like Indica does.”
“Sativa, huh? That’s what a suspect in our murder case smokes, and she’s a successful businesswoman. Not someone you’d consider a pothead.”
“Thanks for thinking of me. I’m successful, and I smoke.”
“You know what I mean. She just happens to be on my mind,” Amanda waved him off.
“The Sativa high wears off pretty quick, unlike other strains.”
“That sounds promising.” Her eyes flickered in the firelight as she watched him pack the bowl.
“You’ll like it better than drinking. Zero calories. No hangover.”
He removed a gold lighter from his pocket and held it over the bowl until the bud caught fire. He put his thumb over the small hole next to the bowl and inhaled, then handed the pipe to Amanda.
She didn’t expect to be put in the position of having to decide so quickly, but she welcomed not overanalyzing whether to partake. What the hell? she thought. Why should Kara Montiago and my brother have all the fun? She carefully took the pipe—trying not to bobble it—and placed her thumb over the hole next to the bowl.
She inhaled, filling her lungs like she did when she smoked a cigarette. The hot smoke burned more than a cigarette, irritating the back of her throat, but she breathed through it and inhaled as much as possible, finding empty spaces deep down in her lungs like she did while breathing during yoga. She carefully returned the pipe to Nate, who exhaled a ton of smoke and took another hit.
Amanda exhaled, coughed a few times to get rid of the tickle, and accepted the pipe a second time. The buzz hit her while she was holding the pipe, so she had no idea whether her thumb was covering the hole or not, but she inhaled deeply again, watching the bud glow red. This time, the smoke didn’t sting as bad. While holding the smoke in her lungs, she handed the pipe back to Nate.
He tapped the remaining ashes into the palm of his hand and inspected them, seeing if any portion was usable for another time. Amanda slowly exhaled, enjoying the floating feeling that overtook her brain, and the numbing sensation that traveled through her body, reaching the very tips of her fingers and toes. She felt warm and cozy all over. Glorious. She stretched her legs and sighed. “I haven’t felt this good in over a month.”
“I knew you’d like it,” he said. “It takes the edge off for a few hours.”
“It’s like slamming a few glasses of wine, except I have this warm, floating feeling—” She saw Jen walking toward them from the house. “Oh shit. Here comes Jen. Don’t say a word about the pot. She might get pissed at me. And keep your mouth shut about the nude photo.”
“You’re a subversive son of a bitch, you know that?” Nate said.
“Out of necessity.”
Jen walked around the firepit and sat next to Amanda on the bench. She had a small cooler with her. “I brought a cooler of beer.”
“I’ll take one,” Nate said.
“I’m good,” Amanda said, trying to sound normal.
Jen handed Nate a beer and twisted off the cap of her own. She took a sip and sighed.
“Everything good with Kristin?” Amanda asked, trying to sound casual. She felt like a teenager, afraid of being busted by her parents.
“Yeah. She’s sleeping. Your parents want to be close in case she wakes up, so they stayed inside,” Jen said.
“What’s Heidi doing?” Nate asked.
“I think she was planning to come down here.” Jen stopped and suddenly sniffed the air. She looked at Nate and Amanda. “Do I smell weed?”
“Yep. Guilty as charged,” Nate said, holding up his hand.
“Oh,” Jen said to him while scrutinizing at Amanda.
Amanda looked at the flames in the fire and didn’t say anything. She leaned into Jen and slid her hand inside Jen’s jean jacket, finding her rib cage. She glided her hand over Jen’s ripped abs in a soothing stroke. “Hey, sexy.”
“Hey yourself,” Jen said, taking a drink.
“I have a confession,” Amanda said. “I was just telling Nate something when you came down, and I need to tell you about it, too.”
“What’s that?” Jen said, scrutinizing Amanda’s speech and face.
“Remember my burner phone?”
“Yez.”
“The North Koreans stole it and printed out the nude pic of me that I sexted you. They’re trying to blackmail me for $100,000.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“No joke. They’ll probably plaster it all over the Internet next week. Prepare yourself,” Amanda said, stifling a giggle. Why is this suddenly so fuckin’ funny?
“For what? The inevitable questions that you photo-shopped your head onto a model’s body?” Jen asked.
Ha! The same thing Tommy said! Why is everyone totally underreacting to my crisis? Amanda burst into laughter, igniting Nate’s laughter too. She didn’t know whether he was laughing to cover for her, or whether he, too, found the notion that photo-shopping her head onto a model’s body was funny. Once Nate got the giggles, though, Amanda was encouraged, wheezing out peels of laughter that left her winded.
Jen smiled but didn’t join the revelry. When Nate and Amanda regained their composure, Jen looked at Amanda. “You’re totally high, aren’t you?”
Amanda’s lips parted of their own accord with another laugh, causing her to cover her mouth. She was trying desperately to act normal but was failing miserably. She felt so happy that she just wanted to share it with the world. “Maybe a little. I hope you’re not mad at me.”
Jen sighed and took a drink of beer. “We’ll discuss it later.”
Uh oh. I’m in trouble, Amanda thought, her throat constricting around a giggle.
“I’m afraid it’s my fault,” Nate said. “I talked my sister into smoking some Sativa with me.”
Jen looked from Nate to Amanda and back again. “Sativa, huh?”
Amanda slid her other hand inside Jen’s jacket, skating it over Jen’s back, trying to sooth away her anger. She massaged the muscle below Jen’s shoulder blade, appreciating the cord-like feel, then worked her fingers around to Jen’s lat, amazed at the sinewy bands. “God, you’re in shape. I can feel every single muscle.”
Jen smiled. “Changing the subject? I’ll have you know that flattery will get you everywhere tonight. Tomorrow is another day.”
“You know you don’t have to stay perfectly in shape for me. You’re gorgeous on the inside, too, but fucking ripped you are.”
Jen sipped her beer and sighed. “You’re not so bad yourself, Yoda.”
Amanda guided Jen’s chin to her lips and kissed her delicately. Jen’s lips tasted of salt and beer, an entrée to her warm mouth. Amanda kissed Jen hard—despite Nate’s presence—enjoying the mild hops flavor lingering on Jen’s tongue. The savory kiss sent streaks of lightning across Amanda’s very high sky as she dove in. Her mind and body were in a good place, the effects of the Sativa mingling with her deep love of Jen, sending sweet shivers down her spine.
She moved a hand to Jen’s inner thigh, where she kneaded the toned muscle there. Jen lay her hand on to
p of Amanda’s and firmly moved it to the outside of her thigh. Amanda was confused for a second then remembered Nate. She moved back and said against Jen’s lips, “Sorry. I forgot Nate was here…so into you.”
“I see Sativa makes you amorous.”
Amanda couldn’t tell if Jen liked the attention or was annoyed, but she melted when Jen placed her hand on the back of Amanda’s neck, holding her head, so she could kiss her again.
Amanda let her head rest against Jen’s warm hand, so strong and sure, cherishing the feeling of being wanted. After her insane dalliance with Roxy, then finding her moral compass again in rehab, her sexual attraction to Jen had intensified. Whether Jen made food or made Amanda’s toes curl from the way she was kissing her now, Amanda no longer took her for granted.
In addition, competing with Nicole—Jen’s girlfriend from the CrossFit box—ignited Amanda’s competitive instinct to possess, and that was what she wanted right now. To possess Jen. The object of her sexual desires. The person to whom she had sent that blasted nude photo. “God, I want you,” she said into Jen’s mouth.
“Geez, you two. I’m getting kind of bored sitting here talking to myself,” Nate said.
Amanda giggled self-consciously, and they broke off. Jen helped Amanda get situated in the crook of her, Jen’s, arm, so they could face Nate instead of each other.
“I’m sorry, Nate. Someone—not saying who—gets a little romantic when she’s high,” Jen said.
He laughed. “I see that. Here, take the rest in this baggie.” He tossed the rolled Ziploc to Jen, who snatched it out of thin air.
“I’ll just stuff this in my jacket,” she said nervously.
Amanda muttered “Namaste” to Nate in a dude-you’re-the-best voice.
“Right. Nama-stay-in bed,” he said.
Jen laughed.
“Don’t make fun of my yoga-speak,” Amanda said.
“Don’t start with the Chakra bakra witchcraft on me,” Nate said. “I get enough of that from Heidi.”
“It’s not witchcraft! Patanjali teaches us that: ‘A mind free from all disturbances is Yoga.”
“Oh shit, Heidi is always quoting Mr. Jolly to me too. Well, Guru Nate proclaims that: ‘A mind free from all disturbances is Sativa.”
