by Dena Blake
“Better now?” Izzy let her arm drop from Mel’s shoulder.
She nodded, tucking a strand of her dark-auburn hair behind her ear. “I should probably get back inside,” she said, blowing out a short breath.
“Hang on a minute.” Izzy blotted the napkin under her eyes to remove the runs of mascara staining her cheeks and slid the dress strap that had fallen back onto her shoulder. “That’s better.”
“I’m really sorry. This isn’t me.” Mel smiled and her eyes sparkled again. “I don’t randomly pour my heart out to people. I’m just a mess tonight.”
“You’re fine. Just tell them your allergies are acting up.” Izzy winked. “That always works for me.”
“Thank you,” Mel said as she got up and headed for the door.
“Oh, and—” Izzy drew her brows together, trying to find the right words of reassurance regarding her jerk of a husband.
“It’s Mel, Mel Thomas.” She swung around and offered her hand.
Izzy took it, squeezing her soft, manicured fingers lightly. “Mel.” Izzy smiled as she spoke. The woman’s unpretentiousness surprised her. She was spoiled and demanding, yet, even after frequenting the restaurant for the past year, she didn’t assume Izzy knew her name. “If you ever need to talk, I’m here pretty much every night.” She kept the comment she felt like making about her husband to herself. It was really none of her business anyway.
“Thanks.” Mel took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and strode into the dining room again.
Mel had just gotten back to the table when the waitress brought the usual apology from Jack, a snifter of cognac. Whenever he left her stranded, it always seemed to appear at her table after he left.
“A birthday wish from the chef.”
Mel glanced toward the kitchen, where Izzy stood leaning against the doorjamb. She smiled and lifted the glass to her. Hesitating before taking a sip, Mel realized Jack had never sent the cognac at all. The woman whose shoulder she’d just cried on had. The woman she’d reamed out the other night.
She glanced down at the napkin wrapped around the bottom of the glass. Happy Birthday was printed in all capital letters across the top, and a phone number had been written in just underneath. She flushed with embarrassment. It wasn’t like her to be so weak. She folded the napkin and slipped it into her purse, then picked up a glass of ice water from the table and took a long drink. She set the glass back on the table and raked her cool hand across the back of her neck. Suddenly the room was very hot.
Izzy waited in the kitchen doorway for a few minutes, making sure everything at the table was running smoothly. She glanced at Mel, who was dressed to impress as always. Tonight she wore a turquoise cap-sleeve dress cinched at the waist. Izzy had noticed how well it loved her shape as she followed her back into the restaurant. Dark hair, long eyelashes, full lips. The woman was beautiful, but she was also a big pain in the ass. Izzy wasn’t expecting her vulnerability to jab at her the way it had earlier. She threw her a wave and slipped back into the kitchen.
“What was that all about?” Tony asked as he tossed a pan of pasta into the air.
“Yeah, what the hell was she doing back here?” Angie’s eyes narrowed. She was clearly still upset about earlier in the week.
“Her husband took off on her again.”
“Serves her right. She’s a b.i.t.c.h.” Angie loaded an order on her arm.
“Knock it off, Ang.” Izzy pushed the door open for her.
“Just sayin’. Who would want to be married to someone like that?” She snarled and strode back into the dining room.
Tony crossed the kitchen and looked out the doorway with Izzy. “She tell you her husband left?”
“No. She’s been coming in for a while. He does it a lot.” She let the door close. “She hasn’t realized she’d be happier without him yet.”
“Don’t even think about it.” His brows pinched together. “You’ll only get hurt.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not thinking about anything.” Except what’s underneath that silky turquoise dress. Alarmed by the vision, she shook her head to erase it from her thoughts.
Tony swung his arm around Izzy’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’d believe that if she wasn’t so hot.”
“You think she’s hot?” Izzy moved around to the bar door and pushed it open, catching another glimpse of the tall, dark-haired beauty. Definitely hot. Izzy had seen that the first day she came into the restaurant last year. “I guess she is kind of attractive. With all the blubbering she was doing, I hadn’t noticed.” She read the order hanging from the ticket holder and took a knife from the block. “She asked about Mom.”
“She did?” Tony dropped a glob of butter into a pan, and it sizzled as he swished it around. “Hmm, a hot woman with a heart. She might be worth a look.”
“Maybe.” Damn right. She’s worth more than a look. For a night anyway.
“You get her number?”
She took an onion and sliced the knife through it. “I gave her mine.” She gave her big brother a wink.
Chapter Four
When Mel got home, she went straight into her bedroom, stripped everything off, and studied herself in the mirror. Why doesn’t he want me? Is something wrong with me? She brushed her hands up her flat stomach to her B-cup breasts. She didn’t look so bad for thirty-seven, did she? After carefully scrutinizing her well-toned body, she let out a heavy breath and pulled on an old, comfy T-shirt. She brushed her teeth but didn’t wash her face tonight; she was mentally and physically exhausted. Flopping into bed, she rolled over and felt the cool sheet covering the empty space next to her. She should’ve known Jack was going to cut out on her this weekend. That was what he did best.
When Mel had arrived home from work earlier, she’d gone into the bedroom to change and had actually thought about making love to Jack. The thought hadn’t entered her mind in months, and it had excited her. But when he came into the room, he’d barely acknowledged her. Even with her standing in front of him totally naked, he hadn’t given her a second look, and the desire to be intimate with him had left her as quickly as it had come.
Sex between them was nothing like it used to be. When they were first married, there was never any question of his desire for her. He frequently stripped her naked and made love to her all night, and she’d enjoyed it. Had there ever really been anything else between them? The sexual attraction had always been so strong it had never really mattered before. When had they stopped wanting each other? The last time they’d made love was months ago, with no romance, no foreplay, and no orgasm—again. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. She used to have orgasms every time—sometimes twice. She wanted so much for it to be different, but now sex had become more of a duty than a pleasure. These past few years with Jack traveling so much had been hard on them both. When he was gone, all she did was work, and when he was home all she did was try to please him. God, my life is pathetic.
She rolled over to look at the picture of Jack on her dresser. Was he sleeping with that hot little reporter who traveled with the crew? Did she even care? Mel had been living this way for so long it didn’t really matter anymore. When he was gone, she was alone. When he was home, she felt alone. He was too locked up in his own world and wouldn’t let her in. When, exactly, had her fairy-tale life gone to shit?
*
Izzy pushed open the front door and headed straight for the shower to wash the restaurant smells off her. Between the garlic and onions, no deodorant in the world would make her smell better tonight.
As she lathered her body, she thought about the scent of the beautiful brunette she’d held tonight. She wasn’t a fan of jasmine, but it certainly smelled wonderful on her. The woman was so out of her league, not to mention married. Her heartbeat quickened and she shuddered, wondering if Mel had noticed its rapid rhythm when she’d fallen into her arms earlier. Tonight she’d gotten too close.
She’d seen Mel head out the back door and couldn’t help herself. Sh
e had to follow. Izzy didn’t want to comfort her; she didn’t want to go anywhere near her. But she couldn’t stand to see a woman cry. What was Mel doing right now? She closed her eyes and plunged her face into the shower stream. What the hell am I thinking? The woman is straight. She scrubbed at her face with the washcloth, then wadded it up and threw it against the shower wall. Pushing the image of her crying from her mind, Izzy let the hot spray of water pulse on her face.
After her shower, she pulled on a pair of shorts and a tank top before heading to the kitchen. She took an open bottle of chardonnay from the refrigerator and poured herself a glass. On her way out to the deck, as she rounded the counter, she noticed the light blinking on the message machine. She pushed the button, and her skin prickled at Dana’s sultry voice as it rang through the speaker.
“Hi, it’s me. I was wondering if maybe I could come over tonight and we could talk or something. Call me.”
“Fuck, no!” Izzy shouted, slapping her glass to the counter. She pulled her sweatshirt over her head. “We’re never doing something again.” She yanked open the glass door. It flew down the track and stopped with a thud when it reached the end. At least the damn thing hadn’t broken this time. She grabbed her glass and the wine bottle from the counter and stepped out onto the deck. Apparently, Dana hadn’t gotten the message yet. Izzy was through playing games with her. She set the wine on the table between the loungers and moved to the railing. Gripping the wood in her palms, she took in a deep breath of sea air, trying to make the ache in her heart disappear. After all these months, it still hurt. When was it going to stop?
It was her own fault. She’d gone into the relationship knowing full well Dana had never been faithful to anyone. Yet, she still dove in headfirst. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! She swung back around, swiped her glass from the table, and gulped down the rest of the wine. She had to stop letting Dana get to her like this.
She flopped into one of the lounge chairs and took in the beauty of the night sky and all its stars to clear her head. Her body tingled again as sparkling emerald-green eyes invaded her thoughts. The beautiful face of her familiar customer had been invading her thoughts for some time now. She’d stopped trying to elude it long ago. Mel Thomas could definitely help her get over this heartache. Then again, she could quite possibly just give her another one.
*
The morning flew by. Mel finally finished the preliminary design for Rick Daniels’s new website around eleven fifteen, and it was pretty damn good. The intro was flashy, but not too wild. The site included lots of promo pictures and links to all of his DVD movie titles on Amazon as well as placeholders for current box-office movies. This baby should net some profits for him. Now all she had to do was shoot him the link, so he could review it and give her some feedback.
She started typing a nice professional email to send, then decided to call him instead. She glanced at her watch, picked up the phone, and punched in his personal cell number. Rick had probably finished shooting for the day and was possibly still in his trailer getting ready to leave the set. He was on location for his new action movie, and the last time they’d talked, he’d mentioned they were shooting scenes at sunrise this week. Mel wanted to make sure he reviewed the website as soon as possible just in case he wanted any changes made. His latest film was due to be released in theaters next month, and she didn’t want any last-minute panic attacks.
“Hi, Rick. It’s Mel.”
“Hello, beautiful,” he said, his voice low and sexy.
“I’ve finished the preliminary design on your website.”
“Great. I can’t wait to see it.”
“Check your email. I’m sending you the link as we speak. Same password as last time.”
“I’ll take a look and give you a call back tomorrow.”
“I’ll only be here until about six tonight.” She smiled to herself.
“Big date?”
“Not really. Just some good Italian food.”
“I love Italian. You’ll have to take me there when I get back in town.”
“Sure. Just let me know when.” She pulled Izzy’s number from her purse and rubbed the napkin between her fingers. “I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.”
“Nothing you do disappoints me, sweetheart.”
“We won’t know that until you look at the site, now will we?” She chuckled.
“I’ll give it a look and let you know what I think.”
“Thanks, Rick. You know I appreciate you.”
“Not as much as I appreciate you.” His voice lowered again.
“You’re sweet. I’ll talk to you later,” she said, ending the call and dropping the receiver into its cradle.
Rick had always been Mel’s number-one fan. They’d been high school sweethearts, and everyone assumed they’d get married someday. Then Rick skyrocketed to stardom and Mel married Jack. She wasn’t happy with her current situation, but the other choice would have been a disaster.
*
Izzy pushed the back door open and found Bella sitting at the kitchen table. “Hi, Momma.” She leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “It’s good to see you up and around.”
Her mother seemed well today. Bella was holding up pretty good for a seventy-five-year-old woman with an autoimmune disease. She didn’t take the amount of steroids the doctor prescribed because she claimed they made her puffy, but Izzy had stopped fighting with her about it. She didn’t like her decision, but she didn’t want her days with her mother to be filled with resentment either. She wanted to share every moment they could, letting her know just how much she loved her.
She peeked through the doorway into the living room. “Where’s Pop?”
“You just missed him. He’s gone to the post office.”
Sadness pinched her. It didn’t hurt as much as it used to, but she still hoped she’d walk in one day and he’d be sitting at the table, happy to see her. She didn’t like the way things were between her and her father, but then they’d never really seen eye to eye on anything. When he’d found out she was gay, he’d pulled away completely. In turn, she’d rebelled, deciding they could no longer continue even the strained father-daughter relationship they’d once shared. She’d finally decided to avoid him altogether. No relationship was better than the unforgiving one he was offering. In recent years, with the news of her mother’s illness, she’d rethought that decision.
“What’s for breakfast today?” She pulled open the refrigerator. “We’ve got fruit, eggs, and, ooh…how about French toast?”
“Whatever you want, dear. I don’t have much of an appetite.”
“You will when you smell this.” She took out the milk, eggs, and butter and set them on the counter before fishing around in the cupboard for a bowl.
“Have you started dating again?” Bella crossed the kitchen and took the Italian bread from the pantry.
“What?” Izzy reached up in the cabinet above the stove for the vanilla and cinnamon.
“Since you broke up with that woman.”
“You mean Dana?” She cracked an egg in the bowl and whisked it around.
“Yes, her.”
“No.”
“What?”
“No. I haven’t dated anyone since Dana.”
“Oh.” Her mother observed her curiously. “I have this friend, a lovely young woman. I think you two would get along nicely.”
“I appreciate the thought, Momma, but I can find my own dates.” She took a frying pan from the broiler drawer, set it on the stovetop, and ignited the fire under it.
“But you just said you haven’t dated.” Bella was very supportive of Izzy. It was quite possible she knew Izzy was gay before Izzy did. By the time she’d turned nineteen, she realized she preferred women and her mother was already trying to fix her up with women.
“Because I don’t want to right now.” She dredged a piece of Italian bread through the mixture and plopped it in the pan. “I’m a little too busy with the restaurant to worry about that
kind of stuff.”
“Oh.” Her eyes flickered back and forth between her hands and Izzy. “But you might want to meet this woman. She’s very pretty, and she has a warm soul.”
“Bella. I said no.” She warned her again.
Her mother sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. Izzy always called her Bella when she meant business, and her mom knew it.
“Maybe I don’t want French toast this morning.” Bella did a little sing-song tone with her voice.
“I’m still going to make it, whether you eat it or not.” She flipped the bread to brown the other side. “I’m hungry.”
“You’re being selfish. Can’t you make an old woman happy before she dies?”
“Wrong daughter. That guilt doesn’t work with me like it does on Angelina, remember?” She sliced off a pad of butter and spread it across the toast before sprinkling powdered sugar on top and sliding it in front of her mother. Izzy smiled, watching as Bella picked up her fork and took a small bite. “See, you were hungry.”
“Not really. I’m just eating to please you.”
“I’m still not going to let you set me up.”
“Stubborn and bullheaded.”
“Just like my mother.” Izzy fixed her own plate and sat down across the table from her. “Now eat.”
“Perhaps I could invite my friend for breakfast sometime.”
“Bella.” Her voice was stern.
“She’s a little thin. I thought maybe you could fatten her up.”
“Everyone’s a little thin in your eyes. If you had your way, I’d be waddling across the kitchen.”
“That’s not enough to feed a bird.” She poked at Izzy’s toast with her fork. “There’s nothing wrong with having a little extra on your hips for your special someone to hang on to. Your father loves my curves.”
“That’s enough, Bella. I don’t want to hear any more of that.” Bella had never made it a secret she prided herself on being able to keep and satisfy her husband for fifty-plus years.