“I’m relaxing outside. It’s so hot here.” I glance up, kicking our porch swing back and forth to catch the breeze. It’s nine o’clock on Saturday, and I’m still in my pajamas.
“Sounds nice, actually.” She clears her throat. “So…how’s Levi?”
“He’s really good,” I say. I feel awkward and overheated and ridiculous. This is your best friend—get a grip, Bee.
“Mmhmm. Has he kissed you yet?”
“Gretchen.”
“It’s a legitimate question, Bee.”
I roll my eyes. “No.”
“Shouldn’t be that hard—”
“Gretchen.”
“What?”
“I’m working on it.”
Gretchen says something, but it’s drowned out by the sound of Levi asking, “Working on what?”
I jump, twisting to look at him where he stands behind the swing. “Nothing,” I say, too quickly, almost like a warning.
“Is that Gretchen?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“Tell her I said hello,” he says, but his eyes ask if I’ve told her about Papa.
I ignore this and relay his message. Gretchen grunts loudly. “Tell him to kiss you soon, or else.”
I make a pitiful noise. “No, absolutely not.”
Levi snatches the phone from me before I even realize he’s moved. He sits by my legs on the edge of the patio and says, “Hello, Gretchen. What do you want to tell me that she doesn’t want to say out loud?”
I tip my head over the back of the swing, making a face at the sky. I’m contemplating all sorts of things—such as what I’m going to eat for breakfast and when I can get to the gym and where my lost t-shirt went and oh, all right, I’m thinking about kissing him, too—when I hear him say, “I was already planning on it. Don’t panic.”
I jerk forward, staring at the top of his head, which now rests on my knee.
“Are you threatening me?” he asks Gretchen, sounding very serious.
She says something loudly and passionately on the other line. “Just give it back to me,” I groan, thoroughly embarrassed.
He holds up a hand. “Excuse me, what?” He laughs. “All right, all right, don’t worry about it, okay? I get it, you care so much and all that, etcetera, etcetera.”
Despite myself, I laugh.
“Here you go,” he adds (after Gretchen has the last word) and passes the phone to me.
Gretchen immediately says, “I’m not telling you what we talked about, so don’t ask. Just go about your day like nothing happened.”
“I can’t now. You’ve ruined everything.”
“Well, that’s okay because I’ve made you laugh.”
I look down, running my hand through Levi’s hair, unable to stop myself. “That’s all that matters, huh?”
“Yeah.” She sighs. “I have to go to work now, okay? But you will call me later?”
“Okay,” I say, heavily, and hope she doesn’t notice.
She doesn’t, because there are three thousand miles between us. “I think you’re crap.”
“I think you’re crap,” I reply, and hang up.
Levi turns his head so his cheek rests against my knee. He reaches up, wrapping his hand around mine, touching my pulse where it flutters under my skin.
“What are you doing here?” I ask quietly. He lets go of my hand, our fingertips just grazing each other, a new kind of torture. He must feel it, too, and drops his hand to his side.
“I came to see your dad.”
“Thanks,” I choke out, rubbing my eyes. I won’t cry. I won’t. “Want to do something for lunch?”
He nods his head. “I don’t have any plans. Erm, actually, there’s an interview later. But that’s it.”
Astrid calls my name, rushing out onto the patio, mouth open to say something else. Then her eyes narrow and she shakes her head. “You two.”
I give her a very pointed expression. “What’s up?”
“Don’t make those eyes at me,” she says.
“What are you talking about?”
“The ‘I’m so in love, please leave us alone’ eyes.”
“I didn’t know that was a thing.”
“It is. You created it. When you started going out with Dufus over here.”
Levi raises his hand. “I am Dufus.”
Astrid cracks a smile at that. “It’s all right, I mean, because he’s pretty cool and all.” She shrugs, as if she’s the Queen of Benevolence to give us her blessing.
“Gee, thanks. What did you need, Astrid?”
“For you to come to do the dishes.” She starts to leave. “Oh,” she adds, turning back to us, “and put a bra on. Much appreciated.”
I look down. I’m wearing a baggy t-shirt, one of my dad’s old work shirts, and Astrid is right. Thinking of where my clean bra hangs on my doorknob, I press my palm against my face, mortally embarrassed. Levi acts like he hasn’t heard (probably to spare me pain) and stands, grabbing my hand to help me up. He doesn’t look at my face, just runs his hand over my arm, up, up, past my elbow, touching all my skin. His palm stops on my shoulder, his thumb resting on the soft spot by my collarbone. It brushes back and forth twice, his gaze locked there, mesmerized by something I don’t understand, something that both terrifies and thrills me. I study his face as he does this, so thankful and scared.
(Thing You Should Know About Me #83: If you didn’t already know, I love his face, with his adoring eyes and angled features and kind mouth.)
Finally, Levi shakes himself out of whatever trance he’s in. “See you in a minute?”
I nod, letting him walk into the house. I see him sit down beside Millicent on the ground, his hair flopping into his face, and I take a deep breath in. Steady, Bee.
I take the other back door inside and run to my room, where I throw on actual clothes. (And a bra. Thanks, Astrid.) I wrap my hair into a bun atop my head and hurry back to the main part of the house.
Astrid stops me in the kitchen, handing me the sponge. “Mom said it’s your turn.” Her smile is persistent, clearly adding, I’m going to tell her you’re a disobedient brat if you don’t.
I raise an eyebrow. “Where’s Levi?”
“Dufus?” Astrid grins. “He’s sitting with Daddy.”
“Okay. Don’t make him work—”
“And he’s helping Mama rearrange her jewelry box.”
I rub a hand over my eyes, shaking my head. She leaves, and I hurry with the dishes, not wanting Levi to feel obligated. But when I get into the living room fifteen minutes later and sit beside him, I find he’s having the time of his life, safekeeping the three pairs of earrings my mother has bestowed upon him.
His grin, meant only for me, bares all his teeth. “Next job: Jewelry organizer for the wealthy.”
“Oh, really,” I say, amused.
“Yep. We’ll move to L.A. and buy a huge mansion once I’ve saved enough money, and we’ll get a dog and a fish and have a really great swimming pool and invite all my celebrity friends over for a party.”
“The American Dream,” I say drily, but in reality, I’m brimming with joy because he said “we”.
“Absolutely, honey.” He pats my knee.
“That’s nice, dear,” I reply, in all seriousness.
Astrid pretends to gag, but Millie is smiling at us in rapture. “You two,” she says. They’re the same words Astrid said earlier, but they sound completely different coming from her. Less cynical, more romantic. I reward her with a smile and a kiss on the cheek.
“Yeah, you two,” my dad says from his recliner. “So ooey-gooey.”
“Dad,” I say, very seriously. “Don’t invite Levi over and expect us to never look at each other.”
He winks at me. “Of course not.”
I smile, even though it hurts.
Levi places the earrings in their new spot in the box and grabs the next pair from my mom. “Hey, Matt, mind if I borrow your daughter tomorrow? We probably won’t be back until late.”
Papa’s eyes narrow. “Um.” He looks uncertain, but not because he doesn’t trust Levi. He’s confused about the question because Levi borrows me all the time.
I nudge Levi. “Meaning…?”
“There’s a TCP event in Malibu, and I have a plus one.”
My dad makes an “ah” shape with his mouth. “Well, sure. That’s fine.”
Levi looks at me, as if waiting for an answer. Does he think I’m going to say no? Ha! I rest my chin on his shoulder. (Our faces are touching in a lot of places but not enough places. Not the right places.) “That sounds like fun! What kind of event?”
“Silent auction. One of our sponsors is putting it on, actually. I’ve been talking to ehim about the TCP building, and he’s interested in discussing his properties with me.”
“You’re moving TCP?”
“I have no plans yet, but if he can offer me something better than what we already have, I’ll take it. He owns, like, ten houses and several office buildings.”
“Sounds…rich.”
“Oh, believe me, he is.” He kisses my nose. The fact that he can do this in front of my whole family without getting scolded means he’s scored some serious points. “And I’m taking you to dinner.”
I give him my best skeptical look, but I’m actually hyperventilating inside. “Where to?”
“Somewhere awesome. Duh. Dufus knows best.”
I make a strange giggle-hum in the back of my throat. It sounds awfully giddy. “Whatever you say.”
“So long as you keep your cell phones on you,” my mom says, “I have no problem with it.”
I grin. “I’m excited. What time should I be ready?”
“One o’clock.”
I nod excitedly. “It’s a date.”
Once again, Astrid makes a gagging motion, and Millie is in the clouds. But they’re both smiling, and my parents are, too, and that makes everything a little bit more bearable.
I spend the evening with Papa.
My mom and sisters leave for ballet class, so it’s just me and Tom and my dad. The last time this happened was…well. I don’t remember the last time this happened.
I sit on the couch, my legs curled under me. It’s nearing dinner, so Tom is heating up some leftovers. Papa has his legs up on the recliner, listening intently while I explain the process of creating a Zen Artistry arrangement. As I pause to show him a picture of the orchid with its wide petals and the long, skinny shoot of horsetail, he says, “Will you read to me again?”
I look over at him and instantly forget about the picture. His eyes are closed and his chest is rising and falling in regular, even breaths. Tom hands me a plate of food and sets Papa’s on the coffee table. “When he’s ready,” he whispers to me.
I nod at Tom and say to Papa, “Of course I’ll read to you.” I grab Crime and Punishment, opening to the bookmark.
It takes me a moment before I realize this is where we left off, nearly a week ago, and that he hasn’t picked it up since. I glance at the table, noting that the book was exactly where I set it down last Monday. The cover has even gathered a bit of dust.
My heart is breaking, breaking, every inch shattering. (But what did I expect?) “Daddy,” I murmur.
“Yes?” He doesn’t open his eyes.
I don’t know what to say. “Okay. I’ll read now.”
He smiles, warmly.
I hide my tears from him and Tom (and myself) and start to read.
Chapter 30
It’s Sunday afternoon, the silent auction looms ahead, and I feel compromised. “I can’t believe you made me leave the house like this.”
From the driver’s seat of his car, Levi casts me a brief look and frowns. “Why? You look beautiful.”
I let out a howl of laughter. My face is flushed, my hair is greasy from the heat, and I’m wearing the sweatpants I wore yesterday around the house. I suddenly feel warm—and it’s not just from all the sun. “Shut up, Levi.”
He gives me a mystified look. “I’m not lying to you.”
“Well, you’re delusional.”
“We’re going somewhere casual for dinner, so relax,” he says, and for some reason, this surprises me. He explains, “I figured we could only handle so many snooty rich people in one night.”
I laugh again. “Right. Well. I still could have just slipped the dress on before we got into the car.”
“What dress?”
It hits me like a freight train: absolute panic. “What dress? WHAT DRESS?! Levi, the dress I’m supposed to wear tonight, that dress!”
I look over at him, and he’s trying not to smile. As if he’s got all the secrets locked inside his mouth. I blush. (Shh, forget about that, Bee.) “I knew we forgot something,” he says.
I turn sharply toward the back seat. My dress, which I expressly put on the seat, is nowhere to be seen. “Levi. Why are you…happy? This is terrible!”
He breaks out into a full grin. “I’m happy because I told Astrid to hide the dress inside. I was distracting you with that long and very excellent hug. Remember?”
Oh, I remember. “Why?” I wail.
“Because I have something better.”
I’m silent, looking at him incredulously. Then I explode, “You bought me a dress?!”
“Good job, you caught on.”
I give him the Devil’s stare. “Excuse me, Levi, how dare you,” I say. “I protest—I’m going naked.”
Levi chokes on nothing but air. He hacks a couple of times, hand over his chest. His expression is one of complete surprise and…well, I immediately regret saying what I said.
“I take that back,” I hastily amend, because now he’s glancing over at me, probably imagining the scenario I so stupidly presented. I sincerely hope that, in the aforementioned imagined scenario, I am standing behind some strategically placed leaves. “I’m wearing my sweatpants, and you can’t stop me.”
“Don’t be difficult,” he says. His cheeks are pink with embarrassment.
“Too late.”
He laughs, making a smooth right turn into a parking lot that comes out of nowhere. It belongs to a fish and chips place, a tiny little shack nestled into the side of the mountains. There’s only outdoor seating, because in California (where it never rains and you’re across the freeway from the Pacific Ocean) you never want to sit inside.
“I found this place a couple of years ago when my dad moved up here,” Levi explains as we hurry out of the car and get into the line. After driving for two hours, I’m thankful for a minute to stretch my legs. “I’ve wanted to bring you here all summer.”
I don’t answer right away, just enjoying the view. He looks down at me, sudden panic crossing his face. “What?” I ask.
“Do you not like fish and chips?”
Oh, Levi. “Of course I love fish and chips! It’s seafood and French fries—who do you think I am?”
He puts a hand on his chest, as if in relief. “Oh good.”
Together we step up to the open ordering window. Levi orders our food, but when the lady asks for his name, he says, “You know what? Put it under Barbie.”
The woman in the window looks at me. I look at her. I challenge her to say something.
Levi walks away.
I smile my best fake smile, then hurry after him. “That’s it!” I yell—and in front of whoever happens to be watching, I run at his back, fling my arms around his neck, and lock my legs around his waist. “You’re not allowed to do that ever again!”
His laugh catches on the hills behind us. He hefts me up
, walks a few feet, and plops me down on the last open table. “Then just tell me.”
When he turns around, I grab the front of his shirt and pull him in. “Maybe.”
He raises an eyebrow. “That’s the closest you’ve come to a yes.”
“Don’t press your luck.” I move to my seat, and he sits across from me, and I feel my chest constricting. For a moment I wish he would ask me why I won’t tell him, but then I’m thankful he hasn’t because I have no answer for him.
Suddenly, I feel small and young and a little bit helpless, because I’m head-over-heels for him and I still don’t know how to just open my mouth and say my name.
“Trust me, I’m not pressing anything.” His smile catches the sun, and he places his hand over mine, gently and with certainty. “I’m just thankful we can cross Barbie off the list.”
We arrive at the silent auction with just enough spare time to get ready. The house is massive, tucked into the hills above the cliffs, complete with a roundabout driveway, pillars, and land to spare. The valet takes Levi’s car (a freaking valet!) after Levi grabs his suit and my new dress from the trunk. (He put in a bag so I can’t see it. Rude.)
The man who meets us at the front door is younger than I’d expected, maybe in his early thirties. He looks as brilliant as John Legend at an awards ceremony, with his hair buzzed close to his scalp and his elegant beige suit complimenting his dark skin. When he smiles, it’s warm and kind and immediately puts me at ease amidst all this grandeur.
“My friend,” he says, and brings Levi in for a tight hug. “Good to see you.”
I step inside behind Levi, who puts his arm around my shoulder in that reassuring way of his. “This is my girlfriend, Bee. Bee, this is Felix.”
I pass my makeup bag from one hand to the other so I can shake his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure’s mine. I’ve heard wonderful things about you,” Felix answers, and shuts the door behind us. The foyer is immense, with marble floors, columns, and two sets of stairs—one to the left and one to the right. Felix nods at the staircase to the right, and the woman who stands at the bottom. “Julia will show you to a guest room where you can get ready. I can give you the rest of the tour when you’re done.”
The Color Project Page 20