Modern Girl's Guide to One-Night Stands (11 page)

He seemed to consider her answer for a second. “True. She’s the meddling type. But why the sudden interest in Simon?”

“I’m just trying to get to know Megan’s friends and family,” she said, hoping he’d buy her explanation and leave the subject alone, but he laughed at her assertion. So Julia went on the offensive. “Megan talks like Simon hung the moon and the stars. I was just curious about who he really is. You know……Megan talks about you all the time, too. Some of the things she’s said gave me the impression that there’s more than friendship between you two. I thought it was really strange that she wanted to introduce me to you, too," she said, meeting his gaze for the first time. That cocky grin was gone. “Maybe she wanted to get my opinion of you. So, what are your intentions toward Megan? ”

“I think we’re going to need another bottle of wine,” he said, getting up from the table. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

Julia had just been guessing about Peter, but it looked like her suspicions were correct. There was a lot more going on between the two than just friendship. That was something to file away for later.

A loud crash rattled the ceiling and Julia got out of her seat, wondering if she should interfere. Megan was yelling something about a Christmas party, and her dress being ruined, when Peter walked back in with the bottle of wine.

“We might as well eat. It sounds like they’re winding down,” Peter said. “That’s the thing about sisters, they have long memories. And a fight is never about one thing.”

“I should—”

“Sit,” Peter insisted. “It’ll be over soon now that Meg has moved to the throwing phase.”

“Does this happen a lot?” Julia asked, still hesitant to take her seat.

“Do you have any siblings?” he asked.

“Only child.”

“I have four sisters,” Peter said. “Simon and Meg’s fights are tame compared to the knock-down, drag-out fights my sisters would have. When I was a kid, if no one was bleeding at my house, it was a good day.”

This couldn’t be how families worked. When she’d dreamt of having a regular
family
, Julia always imagined smiling faces in group portraits and dinner around a big oak table, not screaming and throwing things. Her grandmother’s house had none of those things. It had been like a tomb where no one ever raised their voices.

Megan came storming down the stairs and threw herself into the chair. “Why is my fucking wineglass empty?” she said.

“This is good wine,” Peter said by way of explanation. “I just wanted to make sure you were done throwing things.”

“Fill the glass, smartass. Or I might have to hurt you.”

“Promises, promises.” Peter poured a generous amount into her glass and waited for her to take a long pull off the cup before topping her off.

Julia picked at her cooling potatoes as she watched the two interact. She still couldn’t tell if the banter and intimate knowledge of each other meant they were extremely close, or if there was more going on between the two of them. Julia knew as much about close childhood friendships as she did families.

After her glass of wine was almost empty, Megan finally relaxed. “Well, if you haven’t picked up, the jackass isn’t joining us. I'm sorry, Julia. I had this grand weekend planned where we’d hang out and have fun. But instead I’m fighting with my brother.”

Megan had nothing to feel guilty about. Julia loved the lake and was grateful to even be invited. If anything, Julia should be apologizing to Megan. It was obvious Simon was trying to avoid her. And she hated that her presence was keeping him from visiting with his sister.

“This actually works out. I was planning on doing some work tonight. Don’t worry about me. You should catch up with Peter. I think I’ll head out now."

It was well past ten when Simon finally got off the phone with the production house in California. He’d missed dinner despite his promise, and Megan wasn’t shy about letting him know she was pissed off at him. When he agreed to come out here this weekend, it wasn't his intention to hole up in the office. Simon was finally coming to terms with the whole Julia thing, and was even starting to look forward to relaxing this weekend.

Then he got the call from the New York office. The production on the television ads had come to a stop because of a “creative” disagreement between the studio and the client over the script. Star Atlantic’s VP was a micromanaging ass. He’d loved everything in preproduction and now nothing was up to his standards. He’d even started to complain about the actress. Simon was beginning to think that not one fucking thing was going to go right with this account.

While he was waiting to hear back from the studio, Megan had informed him that they were all driving into town to get supplies and ice cream. She’d also told him, in some rather colorful words, that she wasn’t speaking to him until he left the office.

After several hours of playing middleman with his people, the client, and the studio, they had reached an agreement. Normally they wouldn’t put up with this kind of wavering from the client, but the Star Atlantic account was either going to launch their company internationally or put them out of business. Either way, Simon was looking forward to the end of this campaign and never having to deal with that prick VP again.

But now that he was finally free, Simon was completely alone in the house. It was a twisted metaphor for his life. He was working his ass off to make a name for his company, but everyone in his life was moving on without him. Deep down he was afraid that when he was ready to join them he would find his life an empty shell, just like this house.

He needed a drink, and he wanted to get out of this fucking cavernous house even more. He hit the bar, grabbing a bottle, and headed for the boathouse. All he wanted to do right now was unwind and enjoy the cool night breeze off the lake.

Simon was nursing his second glass of scotch when he heard someone coming down the stairs. He hadn’t left a note up at the house, but he figured if Megan wanted him, she knew where he’d be. But instead of Megan coming through the door, the sounds moved off to the left, right down to the water.

“Holy shit, that’s cold,” a female voice cried out.

Crossing the room so he could check out the side window, Simon found Julia wading through the water. She was carrying a camera and tripod over her head, slowly making her way to waist-deep water before she started setting up the equipment. He looked out over the lake to see what she was shooting. The moon was cresting over the horizon, leaving a ripple of pale light over the surface of the water.

While the sight was stirring from the boathouse, he had the sudden urge to wade out there with her to get that perspective.

She crouched down to the camera, bringing the water midway up her chest. The soft lapping of the water caused her shirt to cling to the curve of her breasts. He remembered how the soft mounds fit just right in his palms and how they bounced when she rocked her hips.

He closed his eyes against the sight. No, he wasn’t going to start down that train of thought again. She was just Megan’s friend. That was it.

Simon turned away from the window and went back to the balcony. He was too fucking old to be spying on pretty girls at the lake. He sat down and picked up his drink, determined to ignore her. Then a soft humming drifted up from the water.

Simon smiled, remembering her horrible singing. It might not have been any good, but there was
abandon
in the way she’d enjoyed the music. Rapture, the sheer joy of living, radiated from her. It was like the
sun
on the first warm day after a long gray winter, and for a few hours she’d focused that light on him. That, more than the sex, was what made her so alluring.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were up here.”

Simon had been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed the door open. Julia was standing in the middle of the living room, dripping on the floor. Before he could say anything she turned to leave.

“Wait,” he said, jumping up from the deck chair. “Don’t leave. You're soaking wet. Let me get you a towel.” He rushed over to a well-stocked closet just inside the room.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I don't want to disturb you. Really.”

“Here.” Simon tossed her a towel from the shelf. He was afraid if he got any closer she’d bolt. “Get dried off before you go. Do you want a drink? I’ve got a nice bottle of scotch, or I’m sure I can find a bottle or two of wine in the kitchen. You look like you could use the warm-up. Your lips are turning blue.”

A sheepish smile crossed her face as she looked down at her sodden clothes. “I need to change. I wasn’t expecting to go for a swim, but I just couldn’t get the right angle from the shore.” She looked down and quickly wrapped the towel around her shoulders, hiding the t-shirt that clung to her like a second skin. “I didn’t think the water would be that cold. It’s still around eighty, so I figured the water would at least be bearable. What’s up with that?”

“It not until July before the water starts to really warm up. Right now I’d bet it’s around fifty degrees or so.”

“My guess was thirty. I’m surprised there aren’t ice cubes floating out there.” She was shivering and hugged the towel tighter. “I should go back to the house and change.”

“We’ve got some stuff out here. I’m sure I can find you something to change into.” He started rummaging through a chest in the closet. Finding some sweats and an old college sweatshirt, he turned, triumphant. “They might be a little big, but they’re dry. The bathroom’s over there.”

She looked down at the sweats and back up to him, the mental debate playing across her face.

He should have let her go, but he was curious about her. The conflicting images he kept getting from Megan didn’t add up to the strange woman who’d wade into frigid water to get a photograph. Or the one who’d asked a stranger for sex.

“I’d be a terrible host if I let my guests get frostbite. Anyway, I’d love to know what it was you were doing down there."

This seemed to be the right thing to say. She smiled and her whole demeanor changed. She came over and grabbed the clothes. “Did you know tonight was a super moon? I was hoping to get some shots of the full moon over the lake while we were here. I really lucked out because this is probably the best time this year to get that shot.”

She was practically giddy as she talked and Simon couldn’t help but feel some of her excitement. He had no idea what she meant by a super moon, but by the way her face lit up he wanted to hear more. “Every time I try to take a shot of the moon, it always looks like a small marble in sea of black. It doesn’t matter how ‘super’ the moon is,” Simon said with shrug.

She dropped her arms from in front of her breasts as she started explaining how to set up a good night sky shot. Simon was only half listening because he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Like a delicate moonflower his mother had planted in the gardens, Julia bloomed right in front of his eyes.

“You make it sound simple, but somehow I bet there’s a lot more than just framing the shot,” he said, encouraging her to continue talking.

“Well there is, but it all starts there.” She smiled broadly again and glanced over to the bathroom. “I’m going to change and I’ll show you some of the shots. I was coming up here to get some shots of the moon reflecting off the surface of the water. I could give you a lesson.” She paused, looking a little unsure again. “That is, if you’re interested.”

“I’d like that.” And Simon was surprised he genuinely meant that. In his line of work he had good instincts when it came to visual appeal, but he'd never been interested in how the images were captured. The only thing that mattered to him was they had to catch his eye and make him feel something. But tonight he wanted to know more.

Chapter Seven