Finally, to-go mugs in hand, they headed out to their cars, and it didn’t even seem that they’d be late. If the beastly light at Shepherd cooperated, anyway. But instead of heading for the curb and his own vehicle, Dillon stopped at her passenger door. When she didn’t thumb the remote to unlock his side, he shot her a quizzical half-smile.
“Serena?”
“Dillon?”
“I just know how you’d love to impress the Houston Green people by telling them about your carpool program.”
He was serious. It was a joke, but he was serious—he was planning on leaving his car at her place. Which was definitely not part of The Plan. Serena made a point of blinking so as not to be staring incredulous at his seriously expectant expression. She glanced away, then back.
“I’m sure it would be the one thing to tip the scales and make them embrace my logo for the stunning piece of art that it is, but I can’t. This afternoon I have to head out to Katy for a meeting, and there’s no telling how long it’ll take me to navigate I-10 in rush hour. I don’t want you to be stranded in the Lanigan parking lot.”
“I could just work late.”
Serena sure as hell hoped that her cheeks weren’t as flushed as they felt. It was a return to the days of the kitten plague. “Natalie and them were going to get plastered tonight. In honor of her freedom from the jerk. Rachel got a sitter for Hannah and everything. So I’ll probably be going straight to them from the meeting anyway.”
Dillon hid whatever he was thinking and gave a light shrug. “Well, when you have to change the HouGreen logo again, don’t blame me, that’s all.”
He was walking to his car, but turned back to her when she said his name. Even though she’d said it pretty quiet, like a timid-ass mouse or something, which made her mad.
“You’re around for lunch?”
“It’s Tuesday.” Tuesday was his basketball game.
“Oh, right. I forgot.”
“But,” he lifted his mouth into a half-grin. “Phillip hasn’t complained about his knees for days now, so I’m sure he can manage to fill in for me. Maybe tacos? Noon okay?”
Serena set her stuff in the front seat of her car and caught up to him on her lawn. “Tacos is great.” Her arms were beginning to feel most at home in the world when they were wrapped around his waist. Her lips, for that matter, had few places they liked better than upon his. “Tacos is perfect.”
So despite the luck with the Shepherd light, they were both late to work after all.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Left to his own devices, Dillon met Jorge for a coffee after work. As Jorge dumped a calorie-free sweetener into his half-caf latte, Dillon suppressed a grin thinking about Serena’s pegging their friend for a no-caffeine-after-dark kind of guy. Though based on her early-to-rise energy, Dillon wondered if Serena ever stayed up too late on a chemical buzz, herself.
Jorge filled him in on the lunchtime game, which had, as usual, ended with the office team slaughtered by the warehouse team. Dillon knew Eddie would have had plenty to say about that, but Jorge didn’t report any of the slights. And when Dillon switched topics to wedding plans, Jorge just smiled a little and shrugged. “Bubba’s in charge of all that. I’m just supposed to pick our photographer.”
Dillon scrutinized his friend. He’d figured Jorge’s shyness was a big part of what had put him behind a camera to start with, and as the tension with Eddie proved, he wasn’t the greatest at navigating relationships. Dillon had thought about setting up a double-date, but Jorge was so private he’d never brought Bubba to the office. He floated the idea anyway.
Jorge shook his head a little, but smiling. “Are you already looking for ways to escape Serena’s clutches?”
“Clutch City, baby.” It was one of Houston’s nicknames, after a couple of back-to-back NBA championships in the nineties. Good times.
“Well, it’s about time you two hooked up. Enjoy it while it lasts.”
Dillon clinked his coffee cup against Jorge’s in thanks, but couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Why ‘while it lasts?’ It’s—I mean, it’s early days, but it’s going great.” He wasn’t going to admit to how often he’d been thinking of her just in the few hours since noon. As she’d dropped him off at the office after lunch, she’d said she would text when she was leaving the meeting in Katy. He resisted checking his phone. It was on vibrate. He’d feel it.
“Sure, Serena’s a good time. She’s a one of my favorite people to hang out with.”
Well, that was true for Dillon as well. “So, why?”
Jorge shifted again, this time angling towards him some. “I’m not saying anything bad. Serena is a lot of fun, and I’ve seen you being interested in her for a while....”
“Everyone keeps saying that,” Dillon grumbled.
“Is it untrue?”
“No.”
“That’s why, then. So, you’re together, and that’s great. You’ll enjoy it while it lasts.”
“Okay, I am. We are. But you’re saying it like it’s doomed to not last. Why can’t it last?”
Jorge looked steadily at him. Being shy and awkward in group situations hadn’t only meant he gravitated towards his camera. Not participating had also given him a lot of time to watch others interact. A knot in his gut had Dillon worrying that Jorge had noticed something that he’d never paid attention to, himself. Dillon sighed. “Just spit it out.”
Jorge nodded, hesitated another moment, then asked, “You love that nephew baby, right?”
“Right. Of course. He’s the greatest lump of joy ever. What does that have to do with Serena? The kitten’s out of the picture.”
“Not the cat. Well, a little bit the cat. You had that cat for, what, a couple of weeks? Making her allergic the whole time?”
Dillon nodded.
“But that whole time, she’s swollen with a rash, and she never says a word to you?”
Dillon shook his head.
“Even though—well, we all saw your chemistry. And the way you were eyeing each other at Eddie and Magnolia’s place last month. Did you know Janice moved over when y’all came out so she would be sitting between the two of you? We could hardly stop from laughing when you saw you couldn’t sit next to Serena.”
“Damn.”
“Well, it was obvious. Not just on your part, either. But the thing is, even though we could all see that Serena and you were into each other, and you honestly couldn’t have been putting out stronger signals, bro. She had to know. But the allergy, and instead of talking to you, trying to figure anything out, what did she do? The easy thing, and avoid you.”
“But come on,” Dillon argued, ignoring the twinge again and these all-too-clear echoes of his own thoughts, “it’s not like she knew what the problem was, or even that the feelings were mutual. Why not be cautious?”
Jorge nodded. “Okay. Cautious. If you’re sure that it was caution. I don’t mean to make you mad. I just think, you know, you want little Toby to have some cousins someday, even someday soon. You’re a settling down kind of guy. And I know Serena’s great at the easy thing, the fun thing. You guys should enjoy that. But if y’all get to the hard work, future plans, making accommodations for each other phase, well. I hope you do, and I hope she’s more of an in it for the long haul kind of person than I thought.”
Dillon didn’t know what to say. Not that he felt like unclenching his jaw to say anything.
“I’m sorry. None of my business. Not to mention I’m probably wrong.”
Dillon nodded, not meeting Jorge’s eyes.
“And you’re having a great time, right?”
He nodded again.
“And even if she was a good-times-only type before you came along, well, everyone has that phase. And then they grow up, meet someone worth working for. Why shouldn’t that be you?”
And another nod. Dillon sighed and forced a smile. “I’m hella worth it, man. We’re good together. Even if you were right, I’m worth it.”
Jorge rolled
his eyes. “Ego much?”
“I speak only the truth.”
“Sure, sure. In that case, did you hear anything more about the location shots for the B&B?”
“They think the ones they had made a decade ago for their original website will work.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“Truth. I’m all about the truth,” Dillon laughed, relaxing his jaw and his shoulders. With luck and a little more joking around, maybe his stomach would settle down soon, as well.
“Okay, fess up. What’s with the emergency deployment?” Rachel asked, setting the bottles of wine on Natalie's coffee table.
“This is not an emergency deployment,” Serena said.
Rachel raised her eyebrow.
“It’s not.”
“Your message said, and I quote, ‘Can we all meet at Natalie's tonight?’ And you didn’t explain why.”
“I wanted to finally have that bonfire of Chris’s junk.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I want to have the bonfire!” Gill added, bringing in a platter with veggies and hummus. “Can we have the bonfire tonight?” she asked Natalie.
“I haven’t gathered all his crap up yet,” Natalie admitted. “But I’ll play Serena’s ‘boys are dumb-dumb-heads’ CD if you want. It’s most excellent.”
Serena grinned. “See?”
“Proves nothing,” Rachel countered. “This has something to do with the new guy.”
Serena tried to hide in her glass of wine, but Rachel, on the scent, was not going to give up. Serena loved her, and was grateful she’d agreed to leave Hannah with her neighbor for a couple of hours so they could all get together, but sometimes Rachel's guarded negativity was daunting.
“Okay, okay. It’s just—it’s nothing. I do want to have the bonfire. Well, when you’re ready,” she said, turning to Natalie. “Did you run a criminal check on Chris?”
“You’re changing the subject,” Gillian pointed out.
“What’s more important? My maybe-too-fast romantic life or Chris turning out to be in witness protection?”
Natalie laughed a little. “I hadn’t considered that one. But I don’t think that’s it. I ran another background check on him, but nothing’s changed. A couple of parking tickets outstanding, nothing funny financially, nada to explain this.”
“What about the landlord?” Gill asked. “Did she call you back?”
“She said the rent was paid through May, but she’d call if she needed help marketing it when it was out of contract.”
Gillian whistled. “See, paying his rent two months in advance seems like the Chris we know. Frankly, the parking tickets surprise me, just because they’re unpaid. Did you use the voodoo doll?”
“No, but thanks. And thanks for this music, Serena, and for getting us together. Even if you clearly have an ulterior motive.” Natalie's eyes were sadder than Serena liked. Serena pulled her into a hug, and then laughed.
“I know what we need!”
The others looked at her, expectant.
“Remember when Dad and your mom were about to divorce? We made those fortune tellers to tell us who the perfect men for us would be.” Serena turned to Gill and Rachel, “We didn’t want to grow up to be like them—well, especially me, since that was already Dad’s third divorce and my mom was fighting with my soon-to-be-first-ex-stepdad every time I walked in her door. Natalie showed me how to make a Forever Man chart and we used it so we would know when we were looking at the Real Thing.”
Rachel shook her head. “You two give me such hope, as a single mom.”
“Oh, you know Hannah’s way better off than I am,” Serena said. “Even, dare I say it, Sergei is a more stable parent than I ever had.”
Rachel just snorted, though Gillian nodded. “It’s true. And sartorial choices aside, Yia Yia Depy is really a stellar grandmother.”
“She beguiled you with her baklava.”
“A baklava-baking grandmother is a stellar grandmother.”
“Fine, fine, whatever. I’m somewhat lucky to have her in Hannah’s life. But her son is another matter entirely. Now, what are these fortune charts? Sounds like I could use one myself.”
“Ditto,” Gillian said lightly. Rachel shot her a look, but didn’t pursue it. Gill had dates, and second dates, and third dates. And then she would be alone for a couple of months, before starting on the same brief cycle again.
“Okay, get me some paper and a couple of dice,” Serena said, reaching for the pack of Prismacolor markers she always carried in her purse.
“You know I just made the whole thing up to cheer you up back then?” Natalie asked, standing anyway to get some paper from her printer.
“And I loved you like a sister for it,” Serena said, not entirely honestly. She and Natalie had been stepsisters for barely more than a year when they were about twelve. At that point, between both her parents’s remarriages, Serena had already chalked up six transient bedrooms. Even having a stepsister so close to her own age whose mom was scrupulously fair about allowances and new school clothes wasn’t enough to overcome Serena’s reserve by the time Dad had married Elaine and presented Natalie as the sister she’d never had. (He conveniently forgot that one of the Evil Steptwins from his first remarriage had been a girl. Though perhaps Satan-spawn didn’t really have genders.)
“Don’t mock. I totally got to trade on having had a mysterious fortune-telling ex-sister well into high school after that Forever Man game,” Natalie said, grinning one of her few real grins of the night. Serena barely remembered the classmates Natalie sometimes brought up, although she’d spent most of that year living in Elaine and Natalie's house. It was zoned to a better middle school than was her stepdad Erik’s house. She actually had far more memories of Erik than of Elaine. Serena smiled, thinking of him. Poor doomed Erik, who, when he wasn’t at business school or fighting with her mom, was always willing to sit with her through a Rockets game, explaining zone defense and pick and roll. He’d insisted that Serena’s mom wait until after a long-planned trip to the Summit to see the Rockets defeat the Phoenix during the Western Conference Semifinals before announcing that particular divorce. Not that she’d been either fooled or surprised, but he still ranked as a favorite among her various stepparents.
Natalie's mom, on the other hand, seemed relieved to be rid of her once that marriage had dissolved. They’d all lost touch after Serena and her dad had moved out, but in her second year at UT, there Natalie had been in Serena’s marketing seminar. It took a little while for Serena to think back and place her, though she’d apologized with the excuse that she’d had, at that point, six stepparents and one half-brother to her credit. Serena met Elaine again at graduation a couple of years later, and didn’t in the least credit her pretense of not remembering Serena. Elaine had never remarried, making Serena the only stepchild she’d ever had. Elaine had unbent in the decade or so since then, but it was still never quite easy when the two met.
And people wondered why Serena was cautious about relationships.
“Okay,” she said, taking the copy paper from Natalie and sketching a quick grid. “We fill each column with traits we might be looking for. Then we roll the dice for each column and whatever we get, that’s the detail on our own personal perfect mate.” She took the markers and wrote ‘HAIR’ at the top of the first column, then began applying various shades in the boxes below it. “So if you roll a three,” she tapped the third row down, “you’re looking for a brunette, and can ignore all others.”
“Better add bald in there,” Rachel said, peering over her shoulder. “Our pool of applicants is getting older each year.”
“And maybe purple or green, something dyed,” Gillian added, laughing. “Because we’re all still young at heart.”
“No toupees, I beg of you. I have my standards,” Natalie said.
Serena nodded, “Agreed.” She finished the hair and moved to the next column, ‘EYES,’ and drew a quick series of eyeballs down the page. If she lingered a little
, perfecting the blue eyes, no one noticed.
“What else? Height?”
“No,” Serena said, “I think we assumed he would be tall and handsome regardless. It had occupation, right, Natalie?”
Natalie rolled a pair of dice onto the coffee table and picked up her wine. “Right, jobs, and I think number of siblings, and how much money he made, and of course, what kind of car he had.”
“We were very, very deep young women.”
“Well, you can substitute the money one with—well, how about what pets he has?” Gillian said with a little glint in her eye.
“You’re a funny person.”
“She is,” Rachel said. “Can you draw pictures for how overbearing his mother might be once you have kids?”
“No need,” Natalie said. “These guys will be our perfect mates. That means they’ll be all the mother-in-law buffer we need.”
“Put in how he is in bed,” Gillian offered.
“Um...I kind of hope that’s not an issue,” Rachel said.
Serena held up a quick staying palm. “It’s okay, I got this.” She wrote ‘SEXYTIMES’ at the top of the last column, and filled the row with pictures of a fire, an angel, a rainbow, a lightning bolt, a rocket ship, and a tiger.
“Bravo!” Rachel applauded. “I want three rolls for that column.”
“Okay, me first,” Natalie said. “Let’s see who I can replace the amazing disappearing Chris with.” A few rolls later, she nodded, satisfied with her pet-free, black-haired, black-eyed, sports-car driving tiger of a banker.
“I know three guys like that,” Gillian offered, “but not one of them has five siblings.”
“Are you sure?” Natalie asked. “Check around. I’m forgetting what Chris looks like already. Rowr!”
Rachel and Serena exchanged pleased glances. It was as cheerful as Natalie had yet been about Chris. “My turn!” Rachel grinned, reaching for the die. “Isn’t Sergei going to be surprised when Hannah has a new—let’s see—brown-headed, green-eyed papa who...what is that?” She tapped the picture of an apple in the first space.
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