California Girls

by Susan Mallery

  But Finola wouldn’t understand that and now Ali was left feeling kind of icky about something she hadn’t done, which could be really awkward, considering Daniel was due to arrive in about five seconds.

  Right on time, he knocked on her front door. She let him in. He smiled at her as he handed her the ever-present folder.

  “Done and done,” he told her. “You are released from all your contracts. Glen will live the rest of his life as a moron and years from now, you’ll look back on this and be grateful.”

  Just seeing him made her feel better about everything. “You are so right,” she said. “I’m done, too. The gifts are all sent back and my to-do list is reduced to nothing.”

  They walked into her small living room. Daniel sat on the sofa while she took the chair.

  “You doing okay?” he asked, studying her.

  “I’m fine. I’m sleeping more, drinking less.” She was still eating for twenty, but figured she could give herself another week of indulgence before she had to rein that in. “I’ve come through the worst of it. Thank you for all your help.”

  He looked good, she thought absently, with the three-day beard, jeans, a long-sleeved shirt and motorcycle boots. Under other circumstances, she would be pretty excited to have such a dangerously handsome man in her living room, but these weren’t other circumstances. Daniel had been sweet to her and they were friends. She wasn’t going to be stupid—something she wouldn’t have even had to think if not for Finola. Sisters!

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  She flushed. There was no way to tell him, so she mentally scrambled for a lie. “That, ah, I admire your negotiating skills. Mine totally suck. I do okay at work, but I really wish I’d stayed in college and at least gotten my associate degree. Plus I don’t really believe in myself and after this whole thing with Glen, I feel even more unworthy.” She shrugged. “Like the clock.”

  “What clock?”

  “My mom has this grandfather clock. I know it’s old-fashioned and big, but I love it. She’s getting rid of stuff because she’s moving to a small bungalow, so she wants us to take things. I asked for the clock and she told me no. No one else wants it, so she’ll get rid of it one way or the other. I mean seriously? She’d rather give it away than let me have it?”

  “Did you take her on?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I think we both know the answer to that.”

  “Does that attitude also explain why the kitchen table and chairs are gone?”

  “No!” She stood up and glared at him. “That is so desperately unfair. You’re sitting with your back to the kitchen. I did that on purpose. How did you know?”

  “I saw they were gone when I walked in.”

  “And you didn’t say anything? You just waited to pounce.”

  “I’m not pouncing.”

  “It feels pouncy.” She dropped back into her chair. “Fine, yes, they’re gone. I couldn’t get in touch with the lady who bought them and when she called me, she was so excited. She and her kids have been homeless and now they have a place and she talked about how they would do their homework on that table. I couldn’t say no.”

  She felt both defiant and stupid. Daniel stood.

  “Get your purse and your keys. You’re coming with me.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  She wasn’t worried he would take her anywhere bad and it was only five in the afternoon, so it wasn’t even late. Maybe dinner, she thought, thinking wherever Daniel picked out would be better than the takeout she had planned. One of these days she was going to have to start cooking again. Once she got her act together, she would go back to the whole cooking on Sunday afternoon so she had healthy food for the week thing she used to do. Okay, not do, exactly. But think about doing. Sometimes.

  They got in his truck and they headed east. When they reached the outskirts of Burbank, she glanced at him.

  “Please tell me we’re not visiting my mother. Not that I don’t love her and all, but I’ll be seeing her this weekend when we have to spend more time going through the house.”

  He smiled. “We’re not going to visit your mother. We’re going to my place.”

  “Oh.”

  That was unexpected. His place. She’d never been there. She tried to remember what Glen had told her. She knew Daniel’s business was a success, plus he’d done well racing. She thought maybe he had a house up in the hills.

  Sure enough, a few minutes later, they’d passed through the flatlands and were heading up into the foothills. Condos gave way to small houses. Small houses gave way to bigger ones. The road narrowed and turned and twisted until they were in a very exclusive part of town.

  “Well, this is fancy,” she murmured as he pulled into the driveway of a large two-story house with a four-car garage. He hit a clicker and one of the garage doors opened.

  The first thing she noticed was the motorcycles. There were four parked in two of the spaces.

  “You take this motocross thing very seriously,” she said as she got out of the truck.

  Daniel shook his head. “They’re street bikes.”

  “I knew that.”

  He looked at her.

  She grinned. “I did not know that, but I do now.”

  He motioned to the empty fourth bay. “This is big enough for all your stuff. Boxes, furniture, assuming you don’t give it all away.”

  She saw what he meant and realized why he’d brought her here. Good thing she hadn’t said anything about them maybe having dinner or something.

  “You’re assuming I’m going to move in with someone, which makes sense,” she said. “This is so nice. You’re saving me storage fees. Thank you. That’s very kind.”

  “Ali, I’m not just offering you a place to keep your things. I’m offering you a place to live.”

  “What?”

  “Follow me.”

  Live? As in...live? With him? In his house? With him?

  “I don’t understand.”

  He kept moving, forcing her to trail after him. They entered the house through a mudroom. To the left was a large laundry room and in front of them a gorgeous kitchen.

  There were huge windows and dark cabinets and an island the size of her former bed and gleaming appliances, some of which she didn’t even recognize.

  “I don’t cook much, but even I could shine in here,” she said. “It’s massive. This whole house is gigantic. How long have you lived here?”

  “A couple of years. It’s hard to find a small house with a four-car garage. Plus I figured one day I’d settle down.”

  Lucky lady, she thought as they continued through the downstairs. There was a big great room just beyond the kitchen.

  He went to the far end of the kitchen, down a narrow hall, then pushed open a door.

  “Mother-in-law suite,” he said, motioning for her to go in.

  The small sitting area had a sofa and a TV on a credenza. Beyond that was a bedroom with a queen-size bed, a dresser, another TV and a desk by the window. The closet was huge, as was the bathroom.

  “It’s yours for as long as you want it,” he told her. “My bedroom is upstairs and on the other side of the house, so you’ll never hear me. You can use the kitchen, family room, laundry, whatever you want. You can come and go as you please.”

  She looked at the pretty lavender bedspread and the dresser with big drawers and the bathroom with double sinks and a jumbo shower.

  “You’re willing to rent this to me?” she asked. “Seriously?”

  “Not rent, Ali. You can stay here. I want you to stay here, as my guest, for as long as you’d like.” He shoved his hands into his front pockets. “There are no strings. You have my word.”

  “Strings?”

  “I don’t want you to think I’m coming on to you.”


  She laughed. “Trust me, I would never think that. But you can’t be serious. I can’t just live here.”

  “Why not? I have the room and you need a place. We get along. I want to do this. I want to know that you’re safe.”

  He was the nicest man ever, she thought, fighting the sudden burning in her eyes. Glen had been so awful and Daniel was his exact opposite.

  “Come see the rest of the downstairs,” he said.

  She took one last look at the beautiful room, told herself she really couldn’t, before following him back through the kitchen. He led her into the big great room with a TV over the fireplace.

  “There’s a media room upstairs,” he told her.

  She smiled. “Of course there is.”

  She saw a small formal living room and a much bigger dining room, both of which were empty.

  “You’re such a guy. You have no furniture in your dining room but you have a media room.”

  He flashed her a grin. “Priorities.”

  They went into a good-sized office. There was a desk, a couple of leather chairs and built-in cabinets with bookshelves covering one wall.

  The shelves were filled with dozens and dozens of trophies and other awards. On the opposite wall were pictures of Daniel racing or riding, along with photos of him in the winner’s circle, looking tired, dirty and triumphant. Ali crossed to the shelves.

  “Look at all these,” she said, reading some of the plaques. “You’re so famous.”

  “It was a while ago.”

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Please don’t downplay your success around me. I’m impressed. I wish I’d known about this before. I feel like when Glen and I were together, I barely knew you at all.” She decided to tell him the truth. “Actually, I thought you didn’t like me.”

  His steady gaze never wavered. “Why would you think that?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess I wasn’t comfortable around you. I am now, obviously. I can gush and fangirl all over you.”

  “Not necessary. Ali, I meant what I said. Come live here for a few months while you figure out what you want to do next. I’m barely around and you’ll have plenty of space and privacy.”

  “Your women won’t mind?” With a guy like Daniel, there were always women.

  “I’m between entanglements.”

  “For now, but later there will be someone.” Not anything she wanted to dwell on but there was no point in avoiding reality. Daniel was the kind of guy to have a beautiful woman in his life. Not like a player—she didn’t think of him as that. But what was there not to like?

  Back to the issue at hand, she told herself. Living here. To be honest, her options were limited. She really didn’t want to pick some crummy apartment simply because it was available in her budget. If she had some time to pay off the credit cards and build up her savings, she would sleep easier, that was for sure, and moving in with her mother was not an option. Finola’s situation was, ah, fluid and Zennie’s place was smaller than hers.

  “If you’re sure,” she began.

  “I am. Let’s say you can stay here a year, rent-free. After that, I’ll toss you out.”

  “A year? That’s too long.”

  “Then go when you’d like, but as far as I’m concerned, you have a year.”

  “That’s too generous. I’ll have to pay something.”

  “You really don’t.”

  “At least half the utilities. I’d offer to cook, but neither of us want to depend on that.”

  He hesitated a second. “Fine. Half the utilities,” he agreed. “I’ll email you a bill.”

  She worried her bottom lip. It was the perfect solution, at least for her.

  “Okay,” she said. “Thank you. I’m very appreciative.”

  “I’m happy to have you here. Now you said you had something going on with your mom this weekend. Let’s get you moved in next Saturday. I know a couple of guys who can help. We’ll get you packed and moved in on Saturday so you can settle and unpack on Sunday.”

  “Perfect. I’ll need to figure out what I’m keeping out and what goes in storage.”

  Not that she would need much in his place, which was convenient considering she didn’t have that much left.

  “Then we have a deal?” he asked.

  “We do. Thank you, Daniel.”

  “No problem, but do me a favor. Try not to sell any more of your furniture.”

  She groaned. “That wasn’t my fault.”

  He looked at her.

  “Fine. It was a little my fault, and yes, I’ll stop.” She smiled. “Maybe I’ll get so inspired by your kitchen that I’ll take a class.”

  “Whatever makes you happy.”

  You do.

  The thought was so unexpected, she tried not to fall over from shock. No, no and no. She was not interested in Daniel. No way, nohow. She had flaws but she wasn’t an idiot. Not only were there a thousand reasons not to get involved with her ex-fiancé’s brother, it was an awful way to repay someone who had only been nice. Super nice. Nope, she wasn’t into him at all. Not even a little. Really.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Your blood work results are excellent,” Dr. McQueen told Zennie. “You’re not on birth control, you’ve tested negative for any STDs. From a health perspective, there’s no reason to think you can’t carry a healthy baby to term.”

  “But?” Zennie asked her gynecologist. “I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

  Dr. McQueen was a sensible-looking woman in her early forties. She’d been Zennie’s doctor for the past five years. Zennie dutifully saw her for a checkup every twelve months or so, turned down an offer of birth control pills or an IUD and went on her way. She wasn’t due for a baseline mammogram for years, never had any “girl” issues and hadn’t much thought about getting pregnant until a couple of weeks ago.

  “Pregnancy is natural and the majority of women go through their time with only minor inconveniences. Having said that, it is a stress on the body. There are major physical and hormonal changes that require support and lifestyle changes. Once you deliver the baby, you’ll feel like your old self in a few months but your body will take a full year to heal. There are also risks with pregnancy—I would assume minor risks in your case, but risks nonetheless. And at the end of the day, you will have gone through all that just to give your baby to someone else and it will biologically be your baby.”

  She softened her words with a smile. “Zennie, what you’re offering your friend is amazing, but you have to be sure.”

  “I appreciate the honesty,” Zennie told her. “I really do, and you’re right—it’s a lot for my body to go through. But I love Bernie and I want to do this for her and Hayes. I’m young, I’m healthy and I have no plans to have kids myself, at least not right now. So I don’t think giving up the baby is going to be hard for me. I want to do this.”

  She’d signed the paperwork and dropped it off with Bernie. Now all she needed was a clean bill of health and she would be good to go on getting pregnant.

  Dr. McQueen smiled at her. “Sounds like you’ve made up your mind. All right. I’ve given you my best ‘are you sure?’ lecture, so let’s move on. I’ll meet you in the examination room. After double-checking you’re physically good to go, we’ll figure out when we next expect you to ovulate. There are a couple of options and we’ll go over them. How does that sound?”

  “Perfect.”

  Twenty minutes later, when Dr. McQueen finished the exam, she didn’t look happy.

  “What’s wrong?” Zennie asked. She’d just had her annual four months earlier. Her Pap had come back completely normal. What could have changed in that short a time?

  “Nothing’s wrong,” her doctor assured her. “It’s just...” She smiled. “Zennie, my best guess is you’re ovulating right now. Not to rush you, but the lab is here. We
could confirm you’re ready with a quick ultrasound, have your friend’s husband come in and make a deposit, so to speak. After the lab does their thing, we could make an attempt right now.” Her voice softened. “Or we could wait a month if you need time to process all this. I know it’s very quick.”

  The news was a little disconcerting, but if she was going to do this, why wait another month?

  “Let’s find out if I’m ovulating,” she told the doctor. “After that, I’ll decide.”

  A little warm gel and time with a wand later, she had her answer. Zennie’s heart thundered in her chest. She was both scared and excited.

  “I want to do this,” she told Dr. McQueen. “I’m going to call Hayes right now and have him get over here.”

  Dr. McQueen grinned. “I’m going to leave you alone for that conversation,” she said with a chuckle.

  Zennie got her phone and dialed. Hayes’s assistant put her through right away.

  “Hey, Zennie, what’s up?”

  Zennie drew in a breath. “Hayes, I know this is really fast, but I’m at the doctor’s office. She gave me a clean bill of health, and it turns out I’m ovulating right now. So if you want to get started today, you have to get here right away.”

  There was a moment of silence. Hayes cleared his throat. “So you’re saying I would be, ah, providing the sample.”

  Zennie sighed. Men were so delicate. “I’m sure they have a room here where you’ll be able to make that happen. No pressure.”

  “Oh, there’s pressure. Right now? Okay. I’ll clear my calendar and be on my way.”

  She gave him the address and hung up, then went to tell Dr. McQueen’s nurse Hayes was on his way.

  Zennie looked at the clock on the wall and knew Bernie would still be at school. Zennie texted her the information, along with the address for the doctor’s office, then prepared to wait.

  Less than three hours later, Zennie lay flat, with her feet slightly elevated, Bernie holding her hand.