by Sherry Wood
The House Swap
By: Sherry Wood
Copyright © 2013 Blue Ribbon Books
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
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CHAPTER 1
A sweet, hopeful voice flowed down the hallway of the airy loft, calling his name. With it, came the click of high heel shoes. A cheesy radio song played from somewhere close by.
“John?” Vanessa, a very attractive, sharp-dressed 29-year-old, called once again. She made her way down the black metal staircase to their airy living room quarters. Then she made her way to her boyfriend’s music room.
“John?” She called with more fervor. John’s ears were buried behind thick headphones and he was staring intensely at his computer monitor at the sound waves on the screen. If the house was being ransacked by thieves, he would have had no idea.
“John!” Vanessa shouted, causing him to jump in his seat and his headphones to fall completely off his head. His reaction stressed Vanessa out a little, but her smile remained intact.
“Sorry – I’ve been saying your name for a while though,” she said. She was still smiling, and looked very professional in her grey and black skirt-suit and sexy heels.
“Sorry,” John got up and walked over to her. “What’s up?”
“Well,” she smiled, excited. “We got another response for the ad and I think it’s much better than the last one.”
“Oh yeah?” John sounded unsure. “I thought everything was set with Santa Barbara.”
“Well…” Vanessa’s smile grew even bigger. “Do you know who Brian Cave is?” she waited, so happy it looked like her face might split in half because of her zany smile.
“Uh…no, is he…in a band?”
“Uh, no – not everyone’s in a band, John. He was on Tomorrow’s Secrets, the soap opera…he played the young, somewhat troubled bisexual college student?”
It was clear by the look on John’s face that he had no idea who Vanessa was talking about. He didn’t watch daytime television.
“Anyway, he wants to house swap with us!” She jumped up and down, giddy. “Can you believe it? He lives in Santa Monica, and there are pictures of his house and it's adorable, here, come,” she practically took John hostage, dragging him away from all of his musical toys and up the stairs to their bedroom. Their loft was nice and open, with a balcony upstairs that looked out on the living room and the nice view of Fullerton Street. She went over to her writing desk and dragged her mouse around and clicked on the pictures.
“Look! Look at the pool!” she pointed before clapping her hands. John stared at the little pictures of a nice pool in a room that was surrounded by glass walls, and a cute spiral staircase, huge living room and nice little kitchen. Then there was a beautiful picture of the ocean in front of the house. “I mean…” she stared up at him, her smile couldn’t get any bigger. “It’s right on the beach!” She continued, looking at John for feedback.
“Hang on,” he said, not at all excited. “Morey is messaging me.” John rushed back to his studio. Vanessa stared at her computer screen, bringing up some photos of Brian Cave while John was away.
“Oh man!” John called out. “This is really cool…” he came back out of the studio and met her at her desk. It seemed he had stolen her smile along with her enthusiasm.
“Guess what?” he said, now the one gleaming with excitement.
“What?” she looked at her screen as she spoke timidly, clicking on a window to cover Google images of Brian Cave.
“You know that band Dead Animals?” he said. She made a sour face. Dead Animals was a very loud gothic band, the type of music Vanessa liked in college but quickly grew out of. “Well they want us to play with them on Friday!” John announced.
She looked up at him and forced a smile. “That’s great, can I say what I wanted to say now?”
“Oh, of course.” He pulled up a chair and placed his coffee down and held his hands up in surrender.
“All yours.”
“I want to house swap with Brian and his girlfriend Saphire – the other place doesn’t even have a pool. We can spend the summer in a house with a pool, or we could spend it in a house with no pool. I mean…and it’s right on the beach. But also, they have a good reason for wanting to come to Chicago. See…” Vanessa pointed to the screen. “The guy, Brian, his mother’s sick and he wants to take care of her.”
John nodded but stayed quiet. “I don’t know, V, we’ve already contacted the people in Santa Barbara, you know? Opened up lines of communication. You really want to do that all over again?”
“If it's worth it, yes. For them and us. I mean what did that Santa Barbara couple say anyway? They want to come here to hang out and be city folks? They sound a bit silly.”
“So?” John got up and walked around the bedroom. “We’re not hanging out with who we house swap with – we just want to stay at their place.”
“Yeah…their place, full of their energy.” Vanessa looked back at the computer screen. “I will set everything up – you don’t even have to worry about it.” She glanced over at him.
“Contact them if you want,” he shrugged. “I just got this gig coming up now so I’m kind of busy.”
She watched as John walked back downstairs and into his studio. She brought Brian’s pictures back up again. He was very handsome, with soft blonde hair and big blue eyes. She stared dreamily at him before picking up her cell phone and calling the phone number on the ad.
CHAPTER 2
Vivere was Vanessa’s favorite Chicago spot. The restaurant was very romantic and relaxing. It never mattered how crowded it was; it never felt chaotic. She loved the deep red and burgundy décor. Plus, their wine selection was outstanding and the music was always pleasant. Lately, Vanessa had been feeling passionate – she wanted to surround herself with sensual things. Maybe because of something lacking in her relationship.
Vivere also had the best selection of Chablis and it was always served in chilled glasses. Here, they went the extra mile. It was nice, dark and cool. After a hot day of activity in the city, there was nothing better.
“Hi,” Chelsea, Vanessa’s best friend, greeted her. Chelsea had a cute smile. She was adorable in every way. She was twenty-seven, but still looked like she was nineteen, with cute dimples, a few freckles, and curly blonde hair. And she was affectionate. She always stood up and gave Vanessa a hug when they met.
“Hello, doll,” Vanessa was grateful for the affection – perhaps too grateful. Wow, are you that lonely that you enjoy the affection from your girlfriend so much?
“How are you?” Chelsea asked, smiling to show her perfect little white teeth.
“Good…” Vanessa sat down in the comfy booth and stared at the romantic chandelier lighting for a minute, getting lost in the twinkle.
“So are you ready to go to California?” Chelsea asked before shaking her curls in excitement. “I would be!”
Vanessa threw her head back rather dramatically. “So ready,” she said. “And we’re no longer going to Santa Barbara, we’re going to Santa Monica now.”
Chelsea smiled and then laughed. “I was going to try and pretend I knew the difference, but I don’t!” She shook her head. “It's all beaches and palm trees in my head.”
Vanessa tossed her eyes up to the ceiling and marveled. “That’s all I want.”
“So tell me the difference betw
een Santa Barbara and Santa Monica,” Chelsea said. “I can’t think of a better conversation.” They paused to look up at the waiter, a stud in a cute tuxedo named Jason. He was another incentive when it came to dining here. That crush Vanessa had that she remembered only when she came here, an innocent crush.
Vanessa gave Jason a beaming smile.
“Chablis?” he assumed.
“Yes.” Vanessa smiled.
“Mushroom burger hold the onions,” Jason went on. Vanessa smiled, somewhat shy. He always remembered what she wanted.
“Terrific,” Jason had a professional ease to him. He glanced down at Chelsea.
“Everything good with you, doll?” he checked.
“Actually,” Chelsea touched the rim of her glass. “I think I’ll have another cocktail, it’s her fault,” Chelsea scrunched her little nose up at Vanessa. “She was late.”
“I’m sorry,” Vanessa mouthed. Chelsea waved a hand, letting her know she was only goofing around.
“So…” Vanessa’s eyes grew big, her mind reeling. Chelsea shook her head and watched Vanessa with big eyes.
“I can’t imagine what you must be thinking right now,” Chelsea smiled as their drinks were brought over. “And I’ll pop by every now and then, just to make sure they’re not total psychos – the people staying at your house. Thank you, Jason,” Chelsea met eyes with him. Jason grinned and walked off. “That boy has sexy eyes,” Chelsea remarked. “I get so lost in them…and that’s the cheesiest thing I’ll ever say!” she giggled.
“Like have we even been to any other restaurant in the city since he started working here?” Vanessa joked. Chelsea daintily covered her mouth and tried not to laugh. Vanessa sighed...it had been a while since she and John had sex.
“So anyway,” Chelsea seemed to know Vanessa was slipping into depressing thoughts and was good at pulling her out of them. “Tell me about the people you’re house swapping with!”
“Oh, it changed,” Vanessa sipped her wine. “Oh my god, do you ever watch Tomorrow’s Secrets?” Chelsea shook her head. She was the busybody type, and was always running around to auditions, or going to the beach to swim.
“Babe, I usually only watch Conan. Wow, this cocktail is vicious!” Chelsea was almost as bubbly as champagne.
“Well, anyway, there’s this actor, and he was on the show, he’s so handsome – anyway that’s who we’re switching houses with.”
“Doesn’t sound like you wanna switch houses with him – sounds like you wanna move in with him!” Chelsea laughed until she snorted and got embarrassed. Vanessa was starting to wonder how many cocktails Chelsea had before she got here. Her breath smelled like candy.
“Well,” Vanessa took a deep breath and tried to change the subject somewhat. “You should see their house – it's much bigger than the last one we were planning on staying at.”
“What’s his name?” Chelsea asked, making googly eyes with Jason. Vanessa waited a minute, making sure Chelsea was listening.
“Brian Cave. His girlfriend’s name is Saphire.”
“Saphire?” Chelsea laughed again. Vanessa nodded.
“They seem nice,” Vanessa said.
“Hey, if their house is nice…” she looked back at Jason.
“They have a pool,” Vanessa quickly said.
“Now I’m so jealous,” Chelsea said. “Well, look it sounds great.” Chelsea managed to peel her eyes off of Jason and look at Vanessa.
“It is – it's right on the beach, but it also has this nice little backyard area.”
“Neat! So does it have a pool?” Chelsea asked.
“Yes…” Vanessa said, a bit disappointed that she hadn’t been listening. She focused on her Chablis.
“The La Foret is the best.” Vanessa said of the wine as she held her head back and took in the great atmosphere. “I’m going to miss this place.”
“You have expensive taste,” Chelsea said. It wasn’t a lecture, just an observation.
“I know, that’s what John always says – as if I don’t deserve the best.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Chelsea made sure to say.
“Oh, I know…”
Vanessa sipped her wine and looked around. She was somewhat tense.
“You okay?” Chelsea checked. Vanessa tried to put on a winning face but it wasn’t working. It almost made her issues more obvious than if she just frowned. She watched Jason gracefully handle the rush he was getting. She couldn’t help but check him out.
“I’m not going to lie…it's been a while,” Vanessa said. “And it's not even about sex – there’s just not much of anything occurring – a look from across the room, anything.”
“Babe – you’ve been together for three years, you’re kind of passed the look across the room phase.” Chelsea was actually making eye contact with Vanessa now, listening.
“I mean are you going to get married, you think? Is it even anywhere in John’s brain?”
“I have no idea, he just talks about the band.”
“I’m telling you, this is going to change everything,” Chelsea swore, staying positive. “You’re going to rekindle the old flame, get lost in the romantic setting of a beachfront condo. I’m so jealous! You have no idea. And I’m sure John is thinking the same thing – just spending time with you in Santa Barbara.”
“Santa Monica,” Vanessa politely corrected.
“Right,” Chelsea nodded.
CHAPTER 3
“Dude! If you run into St. Germain you gotta tell him about us! I mean, dude’s a rock legend, dude!” John’s bassist, Morey, raved. John just smiled, keeping in mind that Morey was a bit drunk. It was only 3 pm. Morey was overzealous all the time anyway, but get some booze in him and his voice becomes loud and somewhat embarrassing. The good thing about Morey’s enthusiasm was that he made a good spokesperson for the band, always telling people about Meat Hook, trying to get the word out there. “I mean, come on,” Morey said. “I know that’s why you set this whole thing up – wanting to go to California, it's so lame dude, but this is your one chance to promote the band, I mean, pass out our CD every chance you get – mingle, you know?!” Morey slapped John really hard on the arm, so hard John almost fell off the bar stool. “This is it, bro, and I could even come up there – you know, if you wanted.” Morey sat back and waited for John to jump at the opportunity to bring Morey along with them to California, but he knew the reason Vanessa wanted to do this.
John kept a patient smile intact as he tried to find a way to respond. Morey was a big teddy bear of sorts – overweight but always wore tight clothes anyway. His hair was black and curly and always in his face. He still painted his fingernails black and, on occasion, wore black eyeliner. He was thirty-one. John was twenty-eight. Morey and John had been best friends throughout college. John still remembered the conversation they had one day during their last year at Loyola University.
“I don’t wanna do theatre dude, I think I made the wrong choice,” Morey had confided in John. “I was at Metro the other night for the Pumpkins gig, and I’m thinking I should be a rock star – I know people laugh at me when I’m on stage acting, and it ain’t 'cause of anything I say – it's because I’m fat, but when you’re a rock star, it's different. People can accept you better.”
“But you’re a good actor,” John told him. Morey didn’t think so, and ever since that day, Morey had pretty much abandoned acting for rock and roll. Meat Hook was Morey’s one and only obsession.
Morey waited, messing with his unruly hair and wanting John to respond with great enthusiasm that he should come to California. John sat there, weighed down by the little tiffs he’d been having with Vanessa and the crazy move coming up. John glanced at the chipped black nail polish on Morey’s fingernails.
“So dude, what’s up?” Morey said. “I mean, you’re really gonna do this? Like, all summer?” Morey looked heartbroken. “Summer’s the time to play, man,” Morey begged. “You know,” he did a little air guitar to further his point.
“I mean yeah…” John was easily bullied. “Sure, you can come up.”
Morey’s brown eyes widened and he leaned forward. “Really dude, like really, I can come with you to California?” the words rushed out of his mouth without any brief pauses. John held his hand up.
“Well not with us,” he gently restated, “But you can certainly come up…to visit. Maybe in July.”
“Totes! Al'ight, bro!” Morey rocked back and forth like a little kid before holding his beer up. “We’re gonna have so much fun, dude, tear the house down! Tear up Sunset Boulevard, tear…”
John kindly interrupted. “Remember, it’s not our house so…”
“I know, even cooler! It’s not ours so we don’t have to worry about what happens to it.”
John realized he just made a huge mistake and watched worriedly as Morey waved the bartender over.
“’Nother round, bro. We’re celebratin'!”
John couldn’t help but smile at Morey’s playfulness. He was very excited over the band – and with Vanessa’s constant nagging John to quit, this was what he needed to refuel the fire.
Morey was completely happy just then.
“Just, you know, remember it’s not our house – the one in Santa Monica. And I need to run this by Vanessa first.”
“Yeah, yeah, hey, so when the sex stopped between you two did she just start to seem like your mom?” Morey asked, a dumb grin on his face. “I mean you have to ask her permission for stuff, like if we wanna play a gig on a Friday night – that’s not cool, bro.”
“She’s never seemed like my mother,” John made sure to say first, his tone extremely dry. “That’s kind of a very disturbing thing to say, and things are just getting to the point where she feels a bit pushed aside.”
“But why is that? Do you think…maybe it’s that she has decided to be like, over there, on the side – she could be more supportive man.” Morey shrugged as he reached for his new glass of beer. “Hey, whatever, let’s not talk about chicks, this is happy hour.”
John, sort of reluctantly, lifted his glass for a toast.