She slid off the bed. His comment released a slither of anxiety in her chest. “From a gift to a toy?”
“Sure.” He pulled his jeans back on, strolled around the foot of the bed and wrapped his arms around her. “Toy, treasure, breath, life, everything I ever wanted and all I need.”
“Everything you ever wanted and all you need? That’s a tall order.” She forced herself to breathe before she passed out.
He put his hand on the top of her head. “No. Just about five six.”
* * * *
Bear pulled out a chair for Maureen and Marc gave him a dirty look. Marc’s date pulled out her own chair and plopped down. Marc needed to hook up with some classier women. Maureen smiled up at him.
Waking up next to her this morning had been heavenly. She’d been awake, reading a book in bed. Tonight he hoped to leave her so exhausted she slept until noon tomorrow. He settled in his chair and waved away the wine list. The restaurant had been Marc’s choice and was way too fancy. Probably trying to throw Maureen, but in the pink dress he hadn’t liked so much, she looked like she dined here every day. Cool and confident. The dress had been a good choice.
“So this is the wonderful Maureen,” Marc said. “How do you like California so far?”
“I just got in last night so I haven’t seen much.” She folded her hands in her lap and leaned toward Bear. He draped his arm across the back of her chair. “Today, we just hung out at the house after we went to the grocery store to pick up some supplies. We didn’t see anyone famous, either.”
“Oh?” Marc cocked an eyebrow. “Who did you expect to see?”
“Nobody really, but Michael said Tim Allen shops there.” Maureen took the napkin off her plate and shook it out. Then she laid it next to the plate instead of on her lap.
“Rick Allen,” Michael corrected.
She shrugged. “Well then, I wouldn’t have known him if he walked up and bit me. Tim Allen, I would recognize at least.”
Marc’s eyes radiated disbelief as he glared at Bear but said to her, “I’m pretty sure you could pick Rick Allen out in a crowd too.”
“Maureen isn’t really up on music. We spent most of today listening to CDs.” He caught her eye. Most of the day when they weren’t busy doing something else. A blush blossomed on her cheeks and he felt an answering tug in his groin. When had he thought that dress didn’t look sexy on her? Every damn thing looked sexy on her.
A waiter invaded with menus and recommendations while his assistant came around to fill their water glasses and deliver bread. Maureen fiddled with her napkin again so he leaned over and kissed her cheek behind his menu.
“Don’t let him bug you,” he whispered.
“I’m not.” She caught his eyes for a moment and then dropped her gaze. “Is it that obvious?”
“To me.” He squeezed her shoulder. He wished he could tell her that meeting Sandy was going to be easier, but it wasn’t. Sandy had all of Marc’s disapproval and thirty years more practice throwing it around. “I don’t care what they think and you don’t need to.”
She put her hand on his leg.
“What do you want?” he asked. His mom always had his dad order for her and it seemed classier than her ordering for herself.
She smirked gently. “Why don’t you get me the fillet, medium rare.”
“Good choice, my lady.” He closed his menu and set it in the table.
“So what do you plan to do while you’re here?” Marc leaned on the table, ignoring his menu. “Because Bear’s going to be busy all week screwing up at rehearsals.”
“Screw you.” Bear sipped from his water glass.
“I thought I’d go see some museums or something while he’s busy.”
“We should go shopping,” Marc’s bimbo said. He really wished he’d been paying attention when Marc introduced her.
“That would be nice.” Maureen smiled.
Bear doubted it, but he wasn’t going to try and stop her. At least, not in front of Marc. “There’s lots of stuff for Maureen to do while she’s here. She wants to meet everybody and next weekend we’re going to Disneyland.”
“Disneyland.” Marc’s eyebrow cocked again. He was going to get a cramp doing that.
“My kids would never let me live it down if I was in Los Angeles and didn’t go to Disneyland.” She grinned.
“You have kids?” Marc asked.
“She has students.” Bear gritted his teeth. “She’s a teacher.”
She squeezed his leg, reminding him to calm down. They’d had long conversations about him keeping his temper. His friends needed time to get used to her. Blah. Blah. Blah. She was right but he just couldn’t figure out how she managed to keep cool.
“I’m happy to get to see Michael again,” she said.
The waiter invaded again to get their orders. The assistant waiter dusted the table as if any of them had bothered to touch the bread.
“What grade do you teach?” Marc asked.
“Second.” Maureen clasped her hands in her lap.
“How long have you been doing that?”
“Twelve years.”
“You looking to hire a teacher, Marc?” Bear asked.
Marc turned his flat, assessing gaze on him. “I’m trying to learn a little more about your brand new fiancee none of us has met.”
“Fiancee!” Marc’s date gasped. “Can I see your ring?”
“I don’t have a ring yet. Michael and I decided since everyone was so concerned about our sudden engagement, we would wait a little before making it official.” Maureen held herself stiffly and didn’t look at him. The subject had turned into a full-blown argument today. He’d been gung ho to go diamond shopping and she was just as determined to wait.
“I see.” Marc studied her like a chess grand master witnessing a play he’d never seen before.
“This is a nice restaurant, Marc. Michael said you chose it. Do you eat here often?” Maureen surveyed the room. The whole place was lit by candles. Huge candelabras full of them hung from the ceiling. Whatever they might have saved on electric, they probably spent on having a team come in every day to change and light all the candles.
“No, our manager recommended it.” Marc folded his arms.
So this was Sandy’s game and Marc was just the first offensive. Marvelous.
“It is lovely.” Maureen leaned back against Bear’s arm. “Marc, why don’t you tell me a little about yourself. I really want to get to know Michael’s friends. He says you play guitar.”
Stroking her shoulder with his fingers, he half listened while she steered the conversation. Marc was more used to being on this end of the interview anyway and now that she had more control, she had stopped fiddling with her napkin. Marc’s date planted her elbows on the table, watching the two of them like she might watch ping pong. The assistant waiter came around to deliver their drinks and double check the bread and water.
“I think I should wash my hands before dinner,” Maureen said when the waiter left.
Bear jumped up and pulled her chair out.
Marc and his date exchanged a look. “Uh, I guess I should go too,” his date said. She started to get up and Marc stood to help her.
Maureen brushed a kiss across Bear’s cheek, taking the opportunity to whisper, “Stay calm.”
Bear nodded and watched her walk to the far corner of the restaurant with Marc’s date on her heels. When he turned back to the table, Marc was already sitting down and scowling.
“What was that all about?” Marc demanded. “Are you going to jump up like a fucking jack-in-the-box every time she stands up?”
“It’s polite and Maureen is a lady.”
“I’ll bet.”
Staying calm was a tall order. Maureen had no idea. He took a sip of his wine and waited.
Marc twiddled a cigarette through his fingers. “You know what she’s doing, don’t you?”
“Trying to take me for everything I’m worth?”
Marc glared at him. “
There is no way she’s that clueless. She knew who you were the second she laid eyes on you.”
“She’s not clueless. She just isn’t interested in music. The only preset in her car is NPR.” He shrugged. “She likes dinosaurs, gardening and The X-Files.”
“Dinosaurs, gardening and The X-Files.” Marc tapped the cigarette on the table. “And you’re just the sucker to fall for it.”
“I’m not falling for anything. Dammit, why can’t anybody believe we love each other?” He slammed his fist on the table, making everything on it jump. The other diners in the restaurant turned to stare.
“Because you’ve got a better chance of getting struck by lightning than of finding a woman who loves you for who you are instead of who you are.” Marc stood up. “I’m gonna go get some dirty looks.”
“You know that doesn’t make any sense, right? A woman who loves me for who I am and not who I am?” he asked Marc’s departing back. Marc gave him the finger over his shoulder.
9
While washing her hands, Maureen tried to figure out how much to tip the bathroom attendant. She’d never had to navigate a situation like this before. Any of this. Nichole wouldn’t be any help either. The other woman had started chattering the moment they walked through the lounge doors and had not stopped, even when they were in the stalls.
“So I think I’m going to be able to move in with Marc before they go on tour,” Nicole babbled on. “He hasn’t said anything, but these guys like to have somebody at home while they’re on the road. He hasn’t said anything about my expense account either. I kinda need him to get on the ball about that. I owe like a ton on my credit cards and any second now they’re going to cut off my phone and then how’s he going to get in touch with me? So when do you want to go shopping this week?”
The abrupt silence almost deafened her. Then the absurdity of what Nichole had said sunk in. The girl was in deep on her credit cards, about to lose her phone because she couldn’t pay the bill and she wanted to go shopping? Was there a planet on which this made sense? She turned to the attendant to see if the astonishment was mutual, but the attendant maintained a passive expression as she handed Maureen a towel. “I haven’t really made any plans,” Maureen said. “Did you want to go Monday?”
“I can’t, Monday. I have a mani pedi on Monday and I teach a strip class on Monday and Wednesday.” Nichole applied more eyeliner, flicking the ends into exotic tails with practiced fingers.
“A what?” She tossed the towel in the wicker basket at the end of the counter. Maybe she should touch up her makeup too. When they left the house, Michael told her she looked fine, but based on Nichole, perhaps she should have worn more.
“A strip class. It is so much fun and really good exercise.” Nichole slapped herself on the rear. “You wanna sit in? Rosie is in Vancouver shooting so there’s a free pole and the boys always like the results.”
With Nichole’s comment, the scrambling for an excuse to miss the strip class stopped. The boys always like the results. Would Michael? Was he comparing her to Nichole and wishing she was a little more like that? But he’d spent a whole week with her unvarnished and he’d seemed to like it. Of course, that was back home. Maybe in his regular environment, he wished she were a little more wild.
Fishing a single out of her wallet, she cast another glance at Nichole. If that’s what he wanted, he was with the wrong woman. This might be her only trip to California.
“I’m going back to the table,” she said, dropping the single in the attendant’s basket and hoping it was enough. She couldn’t really read enough out of the woman’s murmured thank you to tell.
“Ah hah,” Nichole answered, applying lipstick like a fine artist.
Michael was alone at the table, hunched over his wine glass. When she reached to pull out her chair, he jumped up to get it for her.
“Where’s Marc?” she asked.
“Smoking.”
“He smokes?”
“Only when he’s stressed.” He draped his arm across the back of her chair.
“And he’s stressed now?”
“He’s getting divorced, he’s dating this bimbo, he’s appointed himself my father.” He sighed.
Bimbo. That sounded promising in a twisted way. She put her hands on his cheeks. “You know he’s only doing it because he wants what’s best for you.”
“You’re best for me.” He covered one of her hands with his and turned his face so he could kiss her palm.
“We’ll have to give them time to see that.”
He traced a small circle on her hand with his tongue. “Or we could bail and go home and have sex.”
A shiver of delight ran beneath her skin. He was never shy about wanting her. Twelve years of spending most of her time with small children, and she’d almost forgotten what that was like. “You’re being a bad boy again.”
“That’s why you like me.” He grinned.
“Oh, you two are so cute together.” Nichole stood behind her chair with a blissful expression. She slid into her seat. “So, Maureen, do you want to come to my class?”
“What class?” He laced his fingers through hers.
“Nichole teaches a strip aerobics class on Monday and Wednesday,” Maureen said. “She wanted to know if I’d be interested in sitting in.”
Michael’s lips quirked as if he’d just eaten something he suspected was spoiled. “If that’s what you want.”
“I’ll have to see what my schedule is like,” she told Nicole. “I know Michael wants me to meet everyone while I’m out here and I don’t know when they’re going to be available.”
“There’s the band and the techs and they’re going to be busy all week. Then there’s Brian’s wife, Bonnie. She’s a bitch. And Ty’s girlfriend, Liddy. She’s sort of an airhead.” Nichole ticked them off on her fingers. “Annabelle is pretty nice, but she works all week. I don’t know Tori very well, but she seems nice, but you know I think she’s on the set all week this week because she got a guest part in some show. Kim is always busy with her kids. Are you going to introduce her to Jason’s sisters? The ones who live here? You could just go into the office to meet Tessa, but Connie might be difficult to get to. She’s always pretty busy.”
Maureen gave up trying to remember names. Hopefully, when the time came she’d be able to keep them straight. About the same time as the waiter and his assistant with their meals, Marc arrived at the table. He didn’t appear any less forbidding but didn’t say anything, either. She wished he would. The interview had been better than this icy silence. She had no doubt the meal she was eating was one of the best she’d ever have and she might as well have been eating an old canvas sneaker. Michael had hunched his shoulders, either to deflect Marc’s chill or Nichole’s constant chatter. Unwinding him tonight would take some doing. She could only hope tomorrow’s meeting with his manager would go better.
* * * *
Michael parked on the front yard of a tidy little home in the hills. A few cars already crowded the drive. “So you know how to work the GPS?” he asked.
“Yes, but I don’t see why I need it. I could just hang out at your house.” After a couple of excursions through Malibu, the thought of trying to navigate Los Angeles made her head ache.
“You didn’t come all the way to California to sit around my house all week.” He climbed out and she waited for him to come around the car to open her door.
She wasn’t in a big hurry to get out anyway. If the rest of Michael’s friends were going to act like Marc, she’d rather stay home. Her own home.
No, she wasn’t quite that put off. When Michael opened the door to help her out, she remembered why she was here. Being around him made her feel like the most beautiful, fascinating woman on the planet and she wasn’t going to let a few naysayers get in the way. She straightened her t-shirt while he closed the door. From a five star restaurant to a backyard barbecue. He thought they wanted to rattle her, but she hoped it was more along the lines of fitting her into their n
ormal lives.
He opened the front door and walked in. A wiry man with long dirty blond hair jumped up from the couch.
“Dude! This the new woman?” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Ty. She’s hot. Congratulations on the engagement.”
She shook his hand. “Thank you.”
“Sandy’s out back.” Ty gestured with his head. “You want something to drink?”
“Nothing right now, thank you.” She folded her hands together. Total acceptance shouldn’t be throwing her as much as this.
“Come on.” Michael tugged her hands apart. “Let’s go see Sandy.”
They walked through the living room and kitchen, and it wasn’t what she expected either. The house was small, tidy and stunningly suburban. While she didn’t make a habit of following lifestyles of the rich and famous, she’d expected them to be living in something a bit more palatial. He stopped to chat with a few people, introducing her each time, but the names evaporated the moment he said them. There weren’t a lot of people there and she knew she should have been able to remember who was who, but couldn’t.
In the backyard, he led her to the grill, where a stocky older man held court with a long-handled spatula in his hand. “Hey, Sandy,” Michael said.
“Michael. And this must be your lovely lady friend.” Sandy switched the spatula to the other hand. “Nice to meet you. You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”
“No. I’m generally omnivorous.”
Sandy laughed. “Good. I’ve got brats and burgers. What’s your poison? Michael, get your lady friend a plate.”
Michael left to do his assigned task, and she had to resist the urge to snatch at the back of his shirt to keep him close. On the phone, he had said Sandy was as adamant he was making a mistake as Marc. So why was the band’s manager standing in front of her smiling like Santa Claus on summer vacation?
“Relay for Life,” he said.
“What?”
“Your t-shirt. When I started teaching, the big thing for charity was donkey basketball. Beastly animals. Never did what you wanted them to. A lot like the boys, as a matter of fact.”
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