by Casey Hagen
"I'll take the praise, honey, but I only dared you to dance with him. So tell me, did you dance with him?" she said with a suggestive wiggle of her dark brows.
"Many times." Corrine laughed.
Alexa squealed, and it was like they were teenagers all over again. Hopeful, excited, and ready to build the future she’d always dreamed of, Corrine let her excitement bubble over. She told Alexa about the parasailing, diving for pearls, the botanical garden, their fight, and the way they made up after. She told her of how loving, polite, and caring Everett was in everything. The opening of her car door, making her food, leading her into a room with a hand to the small of her back. The way he always took care of her. Cherished her. Then she confided about how commanding Everett had been in the bedroom, how dominant.
"Oh, my God, you lucky bitch! You found a guy who literally treats you like a lady in the street, but a freak in the bed. It's been so long since I've been properly freaked in a bed," Alexa said on a long-suffering sigh.
"I love him. Really, love him."
"Ha! Which means I was right!" Alexa waved a dangerous-looking fingernail in the air. "You never loved Jordan."
"You're right. I didn't. I loved the idea of him. The idea of a life together, with what I thought was a respectable man."
"So, what now?"
"He's taking me to Sunday dinner with his family."
Alexa whistled low. "Wow! He's all in."
"He is."
"So, why are you nervous? You're chewing that bottom lip of yours."
"How am I going to introduce him to mine?"
"Slip Lanelle a sedative first? A horse tranquilizer, maybe?"
Corrine laughed. She could always count on Alexa to have her back. She understood people and she called it as she saw it. Corrine had hit the best friend jackpot the day she ran into Alexa her freshman year of high school. Alexa was in the girls’ bathroom trying to staple her pants shut.
Alexa was the epitome of cool, and so far removed from the clique of girls Corrine socialized with that they might as well have come from different planets. Alexa’s love of skintight jeans finally bit her in the behind when, while crouching to reach into her locker, she split her seams. Corrine bumped into her in the bathroom, where Alexa stood holding her jeans and a stapler she pilfered from Mr. Keegan's desk. Corrine jaw dropped and her eyes widened as she stared in fascination. She stood there, in her thong underwear, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be exposed to anyone who might walk in.
There, in the shadow of Alexa's unapologetic beauty, stood Corrine with her high ponytail, her straight pink skirt, and white polo, crying her eyes out—the boy she was dating had broken up with her because she wouldn't put out. Corrine pulled out the travel sewing kit her mother ingrained in her to never leave home without. While Corrine sewed Alexa's seam, Alexa imparted wisdom about hormone-driven jackasses. To their classmates’ confusion, they stayed thick as thieves from that moment on. Lanelle hated it.
"I don't care anymore what my mother says to me. The minute she told me I should turn a blind eye to Jordan's indiscretions, she lost credibility with me. But what about Everett? I don't want her offending him, embarrassing him, or belittling him. How do I prevent that?"
"Honey, the thing about Lanelle is, anyone can spot the type of woman she is from a mile away. He's going to take one look at her, and know anything she says holds no importance in his world. He's smart. From your account of him over vacation, he's much too confident in himself and who he is to allow someone as shallow as Lanelle to lay him low."
Late that night, Corrine slid between the soft sheets of her bed exhausted. She reached for the lamp switch, and her phone pinged. She opened the text to see it was from Everett:
Goodnight, Corrine Anderson…I love you.
Smiling wide, she replied:
Goodnight, Mr. Harden…I love you too :)
23 Chasing the Dream
Corrine woke early after a restless night. In just three short nights, she had grown used to sleeping in Everett's strong arms. The occasional feel of him coaxing her awake was sorely missed. Despite everything she had to do, she made sure to check her phone first. If she knew Everett, he would have sent her a message.
Sure enough, she had two texts from him:
Missed you last night. That silky skin, your warm scent, and the way you scream my name when you come.
Twenty-eight more hours. Pack an overnight bag. I love you, Angel.
Her exhaustion faded away as a flush crept over her warm skin. Anxious to get a start on her day, she got up and got her laundry going. A couple hours in, her clothes were clean and folded. She had managed to get out her sketchbooks to start poring over the designs she would ultimately take to the meeting with Dustin.
She searched over her supply list, adding items she needed to order to make some of the pieces she’d sketched in Fiji. She needed to bump up her supply costs by another twenty-five thousand to incorporate those pieces. The price would be worth it for the bold splash of color those pieces would offer to her collection. She already had some sketches in mind. All in all, a lovely mix of more delicate designs, medium pieces with flair, and bold, heavy pieces both neutral and color rich.
By noon, she had changed into a lavender dress and pinned her waves into a simple twist. With the last pin in place, and mascara and lip gloss applied, she slid on a pair of heels and walked out her front door.
Her mother played tennis religiously, every Saturday morning, followed by a weekly brunch with a few of her country club friends. Like clockwork, her mother would arrive home at one o'clock, and Corrine would be there waiting for her.
After navigating her way through traffic from her condo in southwest San Francisco, she finally arrived at the ridiculous Pacific Heights mansion where her parents had raised her and Hannah. When she was a kid, she loved this house. Living in the perfectly designed mansion was like living in her own dollhouse. For a child, the house was a living, breathing fairy tale. Now, the way they flashed their wealth embarrassed her.
She used her key and waited in the sitting area off the entry. Her mother never used the garage entrance. She liked to sweep open the front door with a flourish. Nice and dramatic. Just as Corrine got into an article in the latest copy of Vogue, her mother did just that.
With her Coach purse perched just so on her forearm, Lanelle swept her Louis Vuitton sunglasses off her face and tucked them neatly in said purse. "Well, it's about time you're back."
When Corrine stood, her mother gave her an impersonal air kiss on either side of her face, never touching her. "Hello, Mother."
"Are you over your snit now, dear?" her mother called over her shoulder on her way into the gourmet kitchen that no one ever cooked in.
"I was never in a snit. It's very simple, Mother. He cheated. I broke it off. And for all of my trouble, I took a vacation that I deserve. I can't for the life of me see how any of that was my fault."
"You gave up your best prospect over a small indiscretion. Really, Corrine, maybe he was just sowing the last of his wild oats before he married you. For all you know he had every intention of being faithful after the wedding."
"Mother, he was gangbanging a couple of masseuses with six other men. When I walked in, he had his penis so deep in the poor woman's throat she was gagging." Corrine took a small measure of satisfaction when her mother choked on her sip of Perrier.
"Corrine, must you be so graphic?"
"I'm not sure anything else gets through to you, Mother. I made the right decision, and I don't have to explain myself to anyone. Not even you."
"You just don't understand how the real world works, Corrine. Men do these things. It happens. We women are stronger than that. Sometimes we need to make concessions."
"Are you saying Daddy did these things?"
"Well, no."
"Then why should I have to settle for less?"
"Corrine, you're not getting any young—"
"I didn't love him."
"Because I'm in love with someone else."
Her mother's startled eyes met hers. "What are you talking about?"
"I didn't go on my trip alone, and while I was there, I fell in love with someone."
"That's crazy! You can't fall in love with someone in just a few days."
"I beg to differ. He's introducing me to his family tomorrow, and I want to do the same. That's part of the reason I'm here. What night is good for you next week?"
"You're serious?"
"Absolutely."
"Fine. You want to jump into something with someone you know nothing about, far be it from me to stop you."
"I knew Jordan, and look how well that worked out."
Her mother shot her a glare as she went through her calendar. "Your father will only be available Tuesday evening. I can put together a spread here for you and this young man."
Meaning she would have their dinner catered for only a handful of people. Ridiculous, but not unexpected. "Tuesday it is. Now, I need to go.”
Figuring she might as well go for broke while she was there, Corrine added, “I have to prepare to meet with a potential investor, and I have a lot of work to do between now and then."
"Wait, you aren't returning to work?"
"I have three weeks off. I'm using the other two to finalize my jewelry line."
"How could you give up a prestigious job with Ross and Dunham to make costume jewelry?"
She could explain that just because she didn’t use all diamonds, it wasn’t costume jewelry, but really, what was the point? She knew what she created, and Everett believed in her. It was enough. "You've never liked me working for Ross and Dunham."
"I've never liked you designing jewelry, but if you were going to defy my wishes, at least it was with Ross and Dunham. What will people say?"
Corrine smiled, and it felt wonderful. "That's just the thing, Mother. I don't care what people will say. That's your department." Corrine slid the strap of her purse over her shoulder and walked out. She would bring Everett back on Tuesday for a wretched dinner. Once he understood just how awful her mother was, they wouldn't have to do it again.
24 The Welcoming
Everett’s Saturday dragged. He caught up on his correspondence, started to go over Trevor's books, and missed Corrine. How his needing her with him became vital in just a few short days, he would never know, but he did need her. A few flirty texts weren't enough. He wanted her right next to him, on the couch while he worked, in front of the fireplace telling him about her day over a glass of wine, in his bed, where he could bury himself in her. Three times he stopped himself from jumping in his car and going to see her.
He had hoped to stay at her place as she got settled back in, but Alexa surprising them ruined that plan. Not that he held it against her. Not after Corrine told him that she was a big motivation for inviting him to Fiji. Had they really arrived home just two days ago? Two days had never seemed so long. Sliding on his glasses, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.
The drive to Corrine's place took a good half-hour, since they lived on opposite corners of the city. Something he hoped to rectify sooner rather than later. He rang her doorbell and waited, drumming his fingers on the door jamb. She answered the door in a robe, with a pair of fuzzy elephant slippers peeking out from underneath. Her hair rested in a messy knot pinned up high on her head. The pink dress draped over her arm had a big watermark, over a stain, and smelled of dish liquid.
"I'm sorry. I haven't slept well since I've been back, and when I crashed last night, I crashed hard. Then I got makeup on the dress I picked out. I'm a mess and running so late," she explained in a rush.
God, he'd missed her. A lock of hair fell over her eye and she blew it out of the way.
Taking the dress out of her arms, he kissed her long and deep. Pulling away far too soon for his liking, he finally greeted her. "Good morning, Corrine Anderson."
"Good morning," she moaned a low, throaty whisper, making him laugh.
"They're going to love you, so stop worrying." Wrapping his arms around her, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, and breathed in that vanilla scent he’d missed over the past day and half. "We have plenty of time, Angel. Pick another dress, finish getting ready, and we'll go." Sliding a hand over one of her sexy cheeks, he gave her a squeeze.
"I've missed your hands on me."
He groaned and kissed her one last time. "If you don't go now, we aren't going to get out of here."
When she scurried to her bedroom to finish up, he took in her living space. A plush teal sofa dominated her living room with two stuffed yellow chairs, one on each side of the sofa, facing a large TV. He lifted one of the two candles off the weather-worn reclaimed wood coffee table. He breathed in the sweet vanilla and smiled. The furnishings and bold colors screamed Corrine.
A few pictures, in ornate and quirky frames, stood along the top of her mantel. One with Corrine and a pretty woman, their arms linked, heads together in a conspiratorial huddle. The lady with her had lighter hair, but her facial features bore a resemblance to Corrine. Her sister, Hannah, likely. Next to it was a picture of Corrine and Alexa ready for a night on the town, both wearing short, fitted dresses. You could see their personality differences in the dresses they chose.
Although both were revealing, Corrine opted for a more modest neckline and lace sleeves, while Alexa's dress had a deep V down the front and no sleeves. Sometimes less was more, something Alexa clearly didn't believe in. Maybe he was just biased. After all, he hadn't been able to think of any woman, beyond Corrine, since that night at Indigo.
When he heard Corrine's bedroom door open, he turned to her and promptly lost every thought tumbling around in his overactive head. Her wavy hair fell in cascades flowing over her shoulders. Shorter strands framed her beautiful face. She’d chosen another dress, all right. A little buttery yellow number, over one shoulder, with a sheer gauzy material embroidered with intricate orange flowers over the skirt. A thin, burnt-orange ribbon tied around her waist made her look like a present. A present he wanted to unwrap.
"I'm ready."
Yeah, so was he. Ready to get her out of that dress and into his bed, and keep her there for a good, long time. He took her hand in his and kissed the back of it. "You're stunning."
"The other dress was better."
He shook his head, looking her over. "Not possible. I love this dress. Let's go.”
The ride to his parents’ house took almost two hours from her place. He held her hand as he navigated out of the city and into an established residential section of Modesto. The cool air of San Francisco faded away and the heat kicked up. Before long, Everett flipped on the AC to keep them cool. At least her dress would help her stay cool—had she worn the other, she would likely have been too warm.
Made up of mostly ranch-style homes, the community looked to have been developed in the eighties and nineties. Mature trees shaded tidy houses with neat yards. Most of the properties, although dated, were well tended.
They pulled into a wide driveway with a minivan, a Fiat, and a classic Mustang. Shrubs and flowers adorned the one-story canary-yellow ranch. Despite the heat, the lawn was a vibrant green.
She’d just finished checking her face in the visor mirror when Everett opened her car door and took her hand.
The soft slide of his knuckles over her jaw couldn't calm her. The shaking in her hands had started about a half-hour before. What on earth would they think of her? She’d invited their son, a total stranger, on a vacation where she had one bedroom. Who did that? Would they think she was indiscriminate? Flighty? Or, God forbid, easy?
Mortified by what they must think of her, she struggled against tears.
"Hey, none of that. What's wrong?" he asked, bending to eye level.
"What they must think of me. Not knowing you. Inviting you on this trip."
"I promise you, you have nothing to worry about. Nothing can shock my parents after finding
out how Mike and Emily got together."
"How did they get together?"
"Mike used to be a stripper. Emily won a round of free dances when her number was drawn on ladies’ night. She picked him. There are dirtier details, but as her brother, I choose to block them out. They've been together ever since. They married after three months and have three kids. Two boys and a little girl. Never once have my parents had anything negative to say about it."
Okay, so she had that going for her. She wasn't a stripper, and apparently they were okay with strippers, so maybe it would be okay. She took a deep breath and blinked away the tears. "Okay, I'm ready."
Before they reached the first step, a pretty blond burst through the door. "About time you got here, little brother. They're making out in there. I'm starting to think I'm going to have to turn a hose on them."
Corrine watched the gorgeous woman her toss her long, wavy mane behind her shoulder before she held out a hand. "I'm Emily. You must be Corrine."
Corrine took her hand and gave her a firm shake. "Nice to meet you."
"So, what's this about our parents making out?" Everett said.
"You're lucky you don't live close. This cancer scare brought out every ounce of affection and sex drive they possess. It's horrifying!"
"It can't be that bad. We're lucky to have parents that still love each other after thirty-seven years together."
"Lucky? You have no idea what I've been through, Ev. You got Mom that damn iPhone and then went on vacation without teaching her how to use it. She FaceTimed me. Only she didn't realize I could see her too. She was butt-ass naked in bed with Daddy. Do you know what Mom's boobs look like? I do, and it's burned in my brain now!"
Laughing, Everett hugged his sister. "Just remember, if they didn't do it, we wouldn't be here."
Her mouth quirked in the same way Everett's did. "Knowing they do it is one thing. Having to see it is quite another."