California Girls

by Susan Mallery

  Before she could go down the path of wondering what she’d done wrong, she heard a knock at her door. She opened it to find Daniel flanked by two massive guys. He was at least six feet so his friends had to be six-five or six-six. They both had shaved heads and lots of tattoos. Ali stared at a beautiful swirling tattoo design and wondered if she should get a tattoo herself. Something to signify her life taking a new direction or...

  “Morning,” Daniel said, holding out a take-out coffee. “All ready for us?”

  “Not as ready as I wanted to be. There was a crisis at work. But at least I’m sorted.”

  Daniel nodded at the guys with him. “Sam and Jerome. They’re helping us today. This is Ali.”

  “Ma’am,” they said together.

  “We’re happy to help you,” Sam added. “Just show us what you want done.”

  She stepped back and led them through her suddenly tiny apartment. She’d packed up her bedroom and living room, but there were still some things in the kitchen cupboards. Jerome went downstairs and got boxes and tape while Sam went to work on the furniture. He pushed her sofa and coffee table to the center of the room.

  “I should do something,” she said to Daniel.

  “Drink your coffee.”

  “I should do something more.”

  “They’ve got it handled.”

  The two men did. Sam moved to the kitchen. He expertly packed dishes and glasses, using plenty of paper to wrap each breakable item carefully. Boxes were sealed and labeled, then stacked in the living room. At the same time, Jerome wrapped her sofa in plastic wrap. He took apart her coffee table and wrapped it up, as well, then took her lamps apart. By ten o’clock, everything she owned was in neat piles or sealed in boxes. The guys began to move the items out to the truck Daniel had rented.

  As the rooms were emptied, she vacuumed the carpet. She’d already cleaned out the refrigerator and freezer, and had tackled the bathroom a few days before. It didn’t take long for them all to be done, then she was standing in what had been her home, wondering when everything had gone wrong.

  “Ma’am,” Jerome said from the open front door. “We’re loaded.”

  She smiled. “You really can call me Ali.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Whenever you’re ready.”

  She looked around. “I wasn’t sure if it would be hard to leave or not.”

  “Is it hard?”

  She drew in a breath. “More sad, I think. Starting over isn’t easy, even when it’s the right thing to do.”

  “That’s true, but if you don’t start over, you stay stuck where you are. Sometimes that’s worse.”

  She wondered what Jerome was starting over from. Not that she would ask. Repaying his hard work with prying questions seemed rude.

  “Thank you for all your help, Jerome.”

  “You’re welcome, ma’am.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Seriously? You’re not going to say my name?”

  Instead of answering, he winked at her, then walked out of the apartment. Ali took a last look around before stepping onto the landing and locking the door behind her. She went to the front office where she turned in her key before heading to her car to drive to Daniel’s and what an optimist would call the first day of the rest of her life.

  Chapter Sixteen

  At Daniel’s house, the unloading went quickly. The furniture and boxes for storage went into the far bay of the garage with plenty of room to spare. Jerome and Sam took the other boxes into the room she would be using. She and Daniel carried in the clothes she’d left on hangers. Well before noon, she was moved.

  “You’re going to let me pay for the truck and the guys’ time,” she said when they were done.

  Daniel shook his head. “It’s already taken care of. Sam and Jerome work for me so they’re getting paid through the company and I borrowed the truck from a friend. There’s nothing to pay.”

  She insisted on giving each of the guys forty dollars. Daniel went and got sandwiches while she started the process of moving into the oversize bedroom and bath. When he returned, he put the food on her dresser and left.

  It took her less time than she would have thought to unpack. She had more closet space and more drawers than she’d had before, which made fitting in her clothes super easy. The bathroom had tons of storage, and everything else—her laptop, bill file and checkbook—went into the desk. She even had a small linen closet with plenty of sheets and towels. She made the bed, adding a pretty patterned blanket across the foot of the mattress, then opened up her laptop and checked her email.

  Nothing except for a few email ads. Her phone was just as quiet. No texts from anyone. She sent Finola and Zennie each a “thinking of you” text, then stood in the center of the room and wondered what she was supposed to do now. And for the next fifty years.

  It was kind of a daunting question. What was she going to do? Get her own place, for sure. But what about the rest of it? There was no Glen, no wedding, no yet-to-be conceived children. Did she want to start dating again? Change jobs? Go to college and get a degree? Start working out?

  She told herself that her mini life crisis was about all the upheaval of the past few weeks. She would give herself a little time to get settled, then she would come up with a plan.

  She wandered into the kitchen and got a glass of water, then decided to explore the downstairs. That should be safe and allowed. She was surprised to find Daniel reading in the living room. And not a tablet, either. The man was holding a book.

  He looked up when he saw her. “All unpacked?”

  “Yes. It was easy. There’s plenty of storage. Going from small to bigger is much easier than the other way around. Thanks again for letting me move in. I appreciate having the transition space.”

  He put down the book and motioned for her to take a seat. “It’s going to take you a while to get used to living here,” he told her.

  “I think that’s true for both of us.” She smiled. “You don’t strike me as the roommate type.”

  He flashed her a smile that had her stomach doing all kinds of flippy-over things. “I’ve had my share.”

  “I’m talking roommates, not girlfriends.”

  “I know you are.” His humor faded. “Ali, I meant what I said. I want you to take your time when it comes to finding a place. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want.”

  “I appreciate that. I’m going to wait a few weeks and then figure out a plan. I don’t want you to get sick of me.”

  Something flashed in his eyes, something that she couldn’t define although she didn’t think it was bad. “There’s no chance of that,” he told her. “You’re strong. You’ll have decided what you want long before that’s an issue.”

  “You think I’m strong? Is that how you see me?”

  “Of course. Look at what you’ve been through in the past few weeks. You had a couple of bad days after you found out about Glen, then you handled it all.”

  “Actually, I completely fell apart then asked a virtual stranger for help.”

  His smile was gentle. “You reached out to friends. That’s the healthy thing to do.”

  “You make me sound way better than I am.”

  “Is that bad?”

  “No. It’s nice. I’m just...” She looked away, then back at him. “I’m going to say something and I want you to just listen. No judging.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever judged you.”

  She hesitated. “I’m not sure I was ever in love with Glen.”

  Daniel didn’t say anything and his expression was unreadable.

  “When he dumped me, I was so angry and hurt and embarrassed, and I had to cancel the wedding.” She twisted her fingers together. “Since then, I’ve been busy with work and looking at apartments and helping my mom and stuff. I’m still pissed at him and I think he’s a jerk a
nd I can’t believe I was so stupid to fall for him, but I don’t long for him or think about what we would have had if he hadn’t dumped me.”

  “Is that bad?”

  “No, but I don’t get it. My sister is devastated by what’s happening in her marriage. Shouldn’t I be feeling at least a little of that? And if I’m not, why did I want to marry him in the first place?”

  “You were in a relationship and it progressed. That’s pretty natural.”

  “I guess. What I don’t know is where it all derailed.”

  His gaze sharpened. “You know that whatever went wrong is his fault. You didn’t do anything. Glen is the one who walked away.”

  “Obviously he didn’t love me and while it hurts to say that, I’m not broken by the concept. I don’t feel much of anything. So what happened? Was I fooling myself? Taking the easy way out? I don’t want to be a shallow person.”

  “You’re not. Ali, you believed him and trusted him and he betrayed that. Maybe you weren’t as in love with him as you thought, but I don’t think that makes you shallow. Sometimes love grows over time and sometimes it fades. Maybe your love faded.”

  “You’re putting a very nice spin on it considering I was going to marry him,” she said, kicking off her shoes and tucking her feet under her. “I think I was impressed by Glen in the beginning. Not crazy about him, but I liked him and then as the relationship continued, I went along with it. I thought he was a nice guy who cared about me and that was appealing.” She hesitated again. “I’m not a super visible person.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I got overlooked a lot as a kid. My mom totally focused on Finola, and Zennie was my dad’s favorite. There wasn’t a parent left for me.” She sighed. “That sounds so dramatic, but it was true. I had friends and stuff, but...” She looked at him. “Too pathetic?”

  “Not pathetic at all. We are all the product of how we were raised. If your parents had been different, you would be different.”

  “I’d had boyfriends before, but nothing really serious. Glen noticed me at a fund-raiser my sister hosted. He came right up to me and started talking to me. Nothing like that had ever happened before. He was funny and had a good job.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “That’s not very romantic, is it? Shouldn’t I have said he swept me away? That I couldn’t imagine life without him? Did I want to be with him because that’s the stage we were at? I mean he broke up with me, so why did he propose in the first place?” She looked at Daniel. “I saw a comedian on TV once, talking about how the reason people get married is they reach a place in their relationship when there’s nothing left to say so one of them says let’s get married and then they have a lot to talk about. I don’t want it to have been that.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “You can’t be sure.”

  “I know you. You wanted what most people want—a connection. A partner who will love you back and be there when you need him. You wanted to be a part of something, you wanted to love and be loved. You wanted kids.”

  She smiled. “Apparently Glen talked about me more than I thought. You’re right. I did want all those things. I wanted to be like everyone else. Not famous or anything exciting. I just wanted to belong.”

  She felt tears burning in her eyes. “You know what? I miss that. I don’t miss Glen but I miss being a couple. What’s up with that?”

  “I think it’s really normal.”

  She managed a strangled laugh. “You’re really good to me, Daniel. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He looked at her. “You didn’t do anything wrong—I know. I was married before. We went into our relationship with the best of intentions and then it all went south. I can’t say she was a total bitch, because she wasn’t, and I didn’t cheat or do drugs or even hang out with my friends too much. We just weren’t happy together.”

  “We both know Glen wasn’t happy with me.”

  “We both know Glen’s a dick.”

  She smiled. “There is that. Okay, let’s talk about something else. Do Jerome and Sam really work for you?”

  “Sure. Why?”

  “I don’t know. They were very polite but they didn’t seem like typical motocross guys and I’m not sure why.”

  He surprised her by looking away. “I, ah, have some employees that, ah...”

  She put her feet on the floor and scooted to the edge of her seat. “What? Are they undercover cops or something?”

  “No. They’re part of a program run by the state to help former felons find their way in society. I hire a couple of guys at a time in a work-release program.”

  She felt her mouth drop open and carefully closed it. “Really?”

  “You were never in any danger.”

  “I never felt in danger. That’s really cool. So you’re helping them.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  One shoulder rose and lowered. “I’ve been given a lot of opportunities. It seemed reasonable to give back.”

  “Just like that?”

  He nodded.

  “Wow. Glen wouldn’t ever leave more than a twelve percent tip in a restaurant. It always bugged me. Sometimes I’d sneak back and leave a few dollars. How did you two get to be so different?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Don’t take this wrong, but I’m pretty sure I like you better.”

  The sexy grin returned. “I like you better than Glen, too.”

  She laughed. A prison-release program. Daniel was kind of a cool guy.

  “I loved their tattoos. I was thinking maybe I should get one. Except they do it with needles, right?” She shuddered. “I have trouble getting a flu shot.”

  “Then you might want to avoid the whole tattoo thing.”

  “You have several.” Glen had mentioned it, in a disapproving way.

  “A couple.”

  He was wearing a T-shirt over jeans and from what she could tell, there was no ink on his arms.

  “Where? Oh, man, please don’t tell me one is on the small of your back. That would change everything.”

  “Not on the small of my back and maybe another time.”

  What did that mean? That they were in places not usually seen in public? The idea of exploring Daniel’s body, searching for the tattoos had instant appeal. His skin would be warm, his muscles honed. What would happen if she got up and sat next to him, then put her hands on his...

  Stop, she told herself firmly. She had to stop. She was not going to repay his generosity with some creepy move. Coming on to him would totally change their dynamic. Worse, he would pity her and she honestly didn’t think she could stand that.

  “Your wedding date is coming up.”

  His statement was so not what she’d been thinking about that it took her a second to catch up.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “We should plan something for the day. We can do something you’ve never done.”

  “Like skydiving?”

  “I was thinking of something a little more earthbound, but yes.”

  “I have a morning of beauty planned. I kept my spa appointments because I figured I’d want to be pampered, but I’m free after that. What did you have in mind?”

  “A dirt bike lesson and dinner.”

  Nice, nice and more nice, she thought. If she was willing to be the least bit stupid, she would so throw herself at him. He was totally irresistible offering to spend her would-be wedding day with her.

  “A dirt bike lesson and dinner sound perfect,” she said. “Thank you. But after that, you have to get back to your real life and stop worrying about me. I’m going to be perfectly fine.”

  His dark gaze settled on her face. “Ali, you do realize I enjoy spending time with you, don’t you?”

  “Um, sure. But you don’t have to, you know, take care
of me or anything.”

  Was it just her or was it getting awkward in here?

  “So we have a plan for your wedding day,” he confirmed.

  “We do. I will come back from my appointments looking like a princess and then you can dirty me up.” She winced. “You know what I mean.”

  One corner of his mouth turned up. “I do.”

  “Great.” She pointed back toward her end of the house. “I’m going to make a graceful escape while I still can.”

  He chuckled. “Probably a good idea.”

  * * *

  Finola couldn’t stop feeling weary. Her days weren’t any longer, her commute was actually shorter, but the ever-present sense of being exhausted only grew.

  She knew it was a combination of stress and emotional pain. The news about Nigel and Treasure had exploded into the tabloids and she was pretty much under siege. The studio had put on more security to keep the photographers away and she was being deluged by interview requests. Her producers wanted a sit-down with her, and her agent was furious that she’d gone this far without letting the agency know what was happening. Finola knew she was right—her excuse was she had simply wanted it to all go away.

  She drove to her mother’s and parked in the garage. Her mom was working late at the boutique so Finola had the house to herself. She went inside through the kitchen door, then paused to breathe in the familiar scent. Every house, it seemed, had its own smell. This was a combination of years of lemon Pledge and a hint of her mother’s perfume.

  Finola couldn’t remember exactly how old she’d been when she and her mom had first moved into the house. After Mary Jo and Bill had married, for sure, so maybe she’d been six or seven. She’d loved the house—having her own bedroom and a big backyard with a swing set left by the previous owners. She was pretty sure her mom had been pregnant at the time. Finola had been excited about having another kid in the house. Being an only child was lonely.

  She walked through the kitchen and into the living room. The house was so normal, so ordinary. It had been built for a family, she thought. She’d lived here, grown up here, left for college from here. It wasn’t that she minded her mom selling the house, it was that her mother moving was one more change to deal with.