by Mika Lane
“Yeah, Garnet. Good meeting you, too. Please come by the gym. Here’s my business card.”
After they left, I sat at the bar a bit longer. No sense in rushing home to my crummy apartment when I could hang out in a crummy bar.
* * *
When I did get home, I called my best friend, Matty.
“Bitch!” he screamed into the phone. “Why’d you take so long to call me? Was tonight’s date the one? ‘Cause I know you’re gonna get that five million so you can take me on a big-ass vacation. Preferably someplace with men wearing little Speedos…a cruise would be quite nice…”
“God, Matty. Put your dick back in your pants, would you?” I plopped down on the overstuffed chair I’d picked up at a garage sale. It was coming apart at a couple seams, but I was so attached to the sorry little thing.
“The guy was a psycho.” Saying those words out loud was sad. Just freaking sad. “I’m kind of disappointed. He seemed so nice over email.”
“Look, I told you not to use Craigslist. And take it from me, ‘cause us homos meet our booty calls online all the time—the internet is not where you find a husband.”
“I know that now, Matty. You were right. But I did meet someone else. Sort of.”
“Get out. You’re putting it out there, girl. I know you’ll find someone. You’ll get that money, and you’ll finally get laid.”
Ouch. It had been awhile. Only I didn’t need the biggest slut in town to remind me of it.
“So there was this big guy who saw my date harassing me. He grabbed him by the collar and threw him out the door.”
He shrieked. He loved tough guys and drama. Two in one were almost too much for him to bear.
“What did he look like? What was his name? And did he have a job?” Because Matty was not too particular, he ended up with a lot of dates with questionable backgrounds and unstable employment. If they had any employment at all. The last guy he’d dated had been in prison for selling drugs.
“Well,” I said, smiling. “He was really tall. I mean I had to look up at him.” Which didn’t happen all the time when you were my height of five foot ten. “Super broad shoulders, really muscular from what I could tell. Messy little ponytail, some beard scruff, and these pretty blue eyes with the longest lashes. How come guys get the good lashes?”
“Damn, Gar. You did all right. Think you’ll see him again?” Matty asked.
I was counting on it. “He owns the gym around the corner from Drive By Saloon. He invited me to join his bootcamp class.”
“Oh. My. God. A dumb jock. You hit booty jackpot.”
“Well, I don’t know that he’s a dumb jock—”
“Gar, gotta run. I have a call coming in. Love you!”
And he was gone.
It was okay, though. That was how we operated. He had a date, or booty call, or something lined up, and I never got in the way.
And he never got in my way, either. That was why we were best friends.
Chapter 6
Baldwin “Win”
Things hadn’t changed much for me since old man Cordy had kicked the bucket. And I was hoping things would stay that way.
His lawyer had come by a couple days after I found him dead in the house, when the cops had come and had the coroner take him away. I wasn’t sure what to do after that, so I just kept working, keeping up the house and property, and minding my own business in the apartment over the garage.
The lawyer told me they’d be figuring out what was to happen with Cordy’s estate in the next few days, so to just hang tight. I was really gonna miss him. The old man had been more of a father to me than my own father.
I was busy trimming some hedges and enjoying the fresh smell of the incoming San Francisco Bay tide when I saw a woman on the property. I’d known it was just a matter of time before someone from Cordy’s family came sniffing around to see if there was anything they could get now that he was six feet under. Damn vultures. I had to say, though, this particular one was quite the looker. Crazy long hair and some tight-ass jeans. Shit.
“Yo,” I hollered.
She looked around, having heard me, but unable to figure out where my voice had come from.
“Hello?” she called.
“Over here.” If she were here to cash in after Cordy, I was going to make her walk over to me and not the other way around.
“Oh, hi,” she said, waving. And she starting walking toward me.
“Can I help you, miss?”
Her mouth opened, and it looked like she was trying to figure out how to explain herself. I’d seen it before. It was what liars did.
“I…um…I was looking into, um, checking out the house.” She nodded like she needed to convince herself more than me. “I, um, heard it might be for lease. It’s a pretty awesome place. Do you work here?”
No, I hang out and trim bushes for a good time.
“Yes. I am the groundskeeper, property manager, whatever you want to call it.”
“Oh. Did you know Gran—I mean, Bill Cordy?”
“Of course. This was his place, until…” God, I was going to miss the son of a bitch.
She looked around, taking in the view of the sailboats in the distance. Shit, I hoped I wouldn’t have to leave the property. It was one of the few residences on the water in Belvedere, a tiny community just outside San Francisco. Cordy’s huge stone house sat on a spit of land that extended into the Bay with perfect views of downtown San Francisco on the other side of the water. It was magical and a far cry from what I had had growing up.
“Yes, I heard he passed.” She looked at me. “Had you worked for him for long?”
I pulled off my gardening gloves and pushed back my hair. My own dad had kicked me out when I’d gotten busted for pot. Cordy had offered me the little apartment above his garage, and in exchange, I was to do some work around his house. That was twelve years ago.
And twelve years since I’d heard from my asshole father.
So, yeah, I had a bit of an attitude about someone snooping around the property. Even if they did claim to be interested in leasing it.
And even if they were as good-looking as the woman who stood before me just then.
And don’t you know, she had the nicest eyes I’d seen on a woman in a long time, and her crooked little smile made gave me a tic like a teenage boy.
But still…
Oh, what the hell. “Yeah, I’ve worked here for quite awhile. I suppose you’d like to see the house?” I offered.
She clasped her hands. “Really? I mean, I’d love to, if that’s okay. Are you sure?”
“Yup. Cordy’s gone. It’s just me on the property now.” I shot her a dirty look as we headed up to the house. “For the time being, anyway.”
“Oh, right. Well, will you just stay on here?”
“I’m hoping so. But it all depends on what happens with the estate.”
She tilted her head. “Really? What have you heard?”
I shrugged. “Nothing really. A lawyer came around a few days ago and told me he’d get back to me after they figured out what was going to happen.” I took the keys off my belt and let us into the kitchen entrance.
“Oh, I hate that feeling of being unsettled. I mean, I would hate it. If I were in your shoes.” She seemed sincere.
And cute as hell, no doubt about it. But something about her seemed the tiniest bit nervous. Like she wasn’t being completely honest with me, as I’d suspected. I had a good sense about people that way.
“What’s your name?” I asked her.
“Garnet. Garnet Foster.” She extended her hand.
“You can call me Win. Where’d you get a name like Garnet, anyway?”
“It’s my birthstone, so my parents decided to name me after it.” She shook her head, her wild curls bouncing around. “I like having an unusual name. What about Win? Where’d you get that name?”
“Win is short for Baldwin. Baldwin Ronan,” I told her.
She looked around the kitchen where
I’d shared so many meals with Cordy. Damn, was that a lump building in my throat? I swallowed hard, not wanting to share my grief with a person I didn’t know.
But I guess I didn’t hide it well enough. She put a hand on my arm.
“If this isn’t a good time, I can come back,” she offered.
Get it together, dude. I cleared my throat.
“No, you’re here now. Let’s get you a look at the place.” I led her through the dining room into the foyer, a majestic space with a wide staircase leading to the upper floors. That was where her mouth dropped open.
“Oh my God, I’ve never in all my life seen anything like this.” Wide eyed, she made a complete circle to take it all in, giving me the opportunity to check out her curvy ass.
“Yup. It’s pretty awesome. C’mon, let’s go upstairs.”
I had her peek into each of the four bedrooms on the second floor, all with their own bathrooms, and the additional ones on the top floor. I looked out one of the windows toward the Bay and watched a sailboat tilting in the wind.
She clasped her hands together. “Thank you, Win, for showing me around. The place is truly amazing.”
“Do you think you’re going to lease it?” I asked. “How did you know about it, anyway? Cordy passed only last week.”
She opened her mouth but nothing came out, and she turned several shades of pink. Yup, just as I suspected. “I, um, found out from the lawyer. Probably the same one who spoke to you. We were…connected by a mutual acquaintance.” She started moving toward the door.
I thought fast—I didn’t want to let her go until I learned more about her and her interest in Cordy’s house. I checked my watch, and we descended the stairs back to the foyer.
“So Garnet, if you don’t have to run, I’d be happy to show you the grounds. My workday is winding down. This is a good time for me if it is for you.”
She slowed down, clearly intrigued by the offer. “Oh! I’d like that, thanks.”
I led her outside, past the rose garden to the redwood grove that grew right up to the cliffs overlooking the water.
“Let’s have a seat,” I offered, pointing to a couple Adirondack chairs.
“It’s breathtaking,” she said, taking it all in. She was right.
“So, Garnet Foster, where do you live now? How are you gonna live in a big house like this all by yourself?”
She swallowed hard. I figured she was thinking through the next lie she wanted to lay on me.
“Oh, well, I could always get a roommate, you know.” She glanced back at the house. “I’m not sure it’s for me, though, to be honest. I don’t know if I could afford a place like that.”
“What kind of work do you do?” I asked her.
“I’m a bartender. The Drive By Saloon. Ever been there?” she asked.
I’d heard Cordy talk about hanging out there. Maybe that was how she found out about the house? I had figured she was just nosing around, and it looked like I’d been right. A bartender couldn’t rent a mansion in Belvedere. Did she think I was a freaking idiot?
“I’ve never been there, but I remember hearing Cordy talk about it. In fact, I might even have heard him talk about you.” Now that I thought about it, I wondered if this was the bartender he’d taken a liking to.
Her eyes opened wide. “Really? He talked about me?”
“I remember him talking about someone there who he liked.”
She tilted her head toward me. “You’re kidding. He barely ever spoke to me. I didn’t think he even knew that much about me.”
“He seemed fond of you. Said you were a hard-working young lady who was very nice. Maybe he also had a bit of a crush on you.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “I could believe that. He tended to stare a lot.”
I still wasn’t sure why she was snooping around the property, but now that I knew she had a connection to Cordy, it was coming together. I found myself not wanting her to leave, and not only because I wanted to know what she was up to.
* * *
“Hey, there are some beers up at the house. Would you like one?” I offered.
Chapter 7
Garnet
Oh. My. God. Cordy’s house was insane. I never would have guessed, not in a million years, that he lived like this. He had always looked borderline homeless.
Mom always said, “don’t judge a book by its cover.”
And to make things a bit more interesting, his groundskeeper was off the charts hot. The guy’s bright blue eyes popped against his tan, lined face. From his rugged appearance, I guessed he must have spent a great deal of his life working outdoors. He was so good-looking in fact, that I had trouble keeping my story straight about Cordy and why I was there at the house. And while I eventually won him over, he had clearly not been happy when he first found me checking out the property.
In fact, I thought initially he was going to kick me out for trespassing. He’d been kind of a dick, with the way he confronted me. But I guess he changed his mind. Of course, it helped that I was wearing my tightest blue jeans and some high-heeled boots that gave a nice little lift to my butt.
I followed him from the redwood grove where we’d been talking, back up to the house to take him up on the beer he’d offered me. It didn’t seem likely I’d ever get to live in Cordy’s incredible house, but it could sure be fun to dream about it. Thirty days were going by freakishly fast, and I wasn’t any closer to having a husband than I’d been the day the lawyer had come to see me at the saloon.
But that hadn’t stopped me from fantasizing about what I’d do if I did get five million dollars. First, getting my student loan debt off my back would be a dream come true. Not a week went by when I didn’t wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare about all that I owed and how unlikely it was I could ever pay it off. But even better would be the opportunity to do something, even if it wasn’t anything huge, to help others. I’d begin with the homeless people in my neighborhood. I had no illusions that I could solve San Francisco’s homeless problem, but I could start in my own backyard.
Oh, why was I torturing myself? It was beyond ridiculous.
“Thank you,” I said, taking a beer from Win. I grabbed a stool at the spotless kitchen counter, and he sat right next to me. He smelled like he’d been gardening—a sexy scent of flowers, fresh dirt, and a bit of sweat. De-lish. I’d better watch it, having a beer with a man like that.
“Cheers, Garnet. It’s nice to meet you, whether or not you end up leasing the place.”
I could swear there was some sort of smirk on his face. I know what he was thinking—how could a girl like me, who tends bar at the down and out Drive By Saloon, possibly afford a place like that?
Well, his initial assumption was right. He just didn’t know the whole story, and I wasn’t about to tell him. One thing I did know, however, was that if I did end up in that house, and he continued to be a dick to me, I wouldn’t be keeping him around. That was for sure.
Even though I was sitting so close to him now I could feel my heart pounding in my fingers and toes. Damn.
“How long did you say you’d been working here?” I asked him.
He took a sip of his beer and nodded. “Over ten years. I live in the little apartment over the garage. It’s a great set up.”
“Were you close with Cordy?”
He opened his mouth to answer, then shut it. Shit. Did I say the wrong thing again?
Without a word, he nodded slowly. “He was good to me, Cordy was. Got kicked out of the house by my own old man. Cordy took me in,” he answered.
“Wow. It must be hard for you, that he’s gone now. Are you in contact with your dad?”
Ugh. Stuck my foot in it again. I needed to stop asking this poor guy personal questions. He looked like he wished I’d stop, too.
He shook his head. “No. No I haven’t been in touch with him. And I’ve heard he’s pretty sick, so he probably won’t be around much longer.”
Damn. My heart hurt fo
r this guy. Something about him seemed so…lonely, I think it was.
“Can you reach out to your dad? I mean, what would that be like?” I asked.
“Not sure. I’m really not sure whether I want to or not.”
“I get that,” I said. I really did.
“What about you?” he asked. “You close with your parents?”
“Well, I never knew my dad. Not my real dad, anyway. My mom lives in Texas with her latest boyfriend. We’re not very close. She sort of couldn’t be bothered by me when I was growing up. Still is that way, really.”
Win turned on his stool to fully face me. “Huh. Our stories are sort of similar.”
We did have family issues in common, but I could hardly think about that with his blue eyes boring into mine. God, he made good eye contact. Then I made the mistake of looking at my watch.
“Shit!” I said, jumping off the barstool. “I lost track of time. I have to work in twenty minutes. Thank you for the beer.” I grabbed my purse and held my hand out.
Instead, he leaned in and kissed my cheek, slowly, so very slowly. In doing so, he was able to let his lips linger on me long enough to make me dizzy. I grabbed for the counter for balance. And if I wasn’t mistaken, I think I heard him take a whiff of my hair.
“Why don’t you come by the bar sometime?” I asked him.
He just looked down at me for a moment. If I didn’t hustle and get out of there, I wasn’t sure I ever would.
And I had lied to him about my reasons for being there. I felt kind of shitty about that.
“I will come by,” he said, tilting his head and continuing to gaze at me. “Maybe I can take Cordy’s old seat.”
“Oh, that would be great.” He was also welcome to stare at my ass. But I didn’t think he needed an invitation to do that.
* * *
By the time I crossed the Golden Gate Bridge to get back into San Francisco, and then braved the rush hour traffic across town, I was almost an hour late for my shift.
