Monarch Beach (21 page)

“He didn’t say.” I gave her an innocent smile. “I better get ready.”

I walked into my closet, irritated at myself for lying to her. I could have said, “I’m going to Edward’s for lunch.” She didn’t know I had almost come in the front seat of his car, or that all I could think about for the last few days was “Was he inviting me to lunch or to bed?” I picked out a strapless Juicy sundress and Gucci sandals. I brushed my hair straight over my shoulders and slipped a couple of silver bangles on my arm.

“You’re not wearing much,” my mother appraised me when I walked back into the living room.

“It’s ninety degrees outside! You have to stop treating me like I’m twelve, Mom. Do you want to measure the length of my skirt?”

“No, but I can tell what color underwear you’re wearing. It’s yellow.” She frowned.

“You cannot see my underwear.” I examined myself in the hall mirror. “I told Edward I’d meet him downstairs. I’ll be back to pick up Max from Kids’ Club.” I kissed her on the cheek.

“What time is Max done?” she asked.

“Erin said they’d be back by five,” I replied.

“That’s a very long lunch.” She gave me one of her pointed looks.

“I’m very hungry.” I smiled, and closed the door.

*   *   *

Edward’s car was waiting outside. I climbed in and he kissed me on the cheek. He let out a low whistle. “You are becoming quite the Southern California beauty queen.”

“My mother complained my skirt is too short,” I laughed.

He gently brushed his fingers over my thighs. “Not from where I’m sitting.”

It was one of those breathtakingly beautiful summer days, when I couldn’t imagine being anywhere but right next to the Pacific Ocean. We had the windows down in the Mini and the salt air was intoxicating.

“Sometimes the ocean is so stunning, it’s too much,” he said.

“I know what you mean. You want to acknowledge its beauty somehow. Fill yourself up with it,” I agreed.

“I feel lucky to live here. Especially right now.” He put his hand on my knee.

The car climbed the hill to his house and we pulled into the driveway.

“It’s so quiet.” I faced the ocean. It was completely calm, a deep, still blue like an inkwell.

“No one here but us.” Edward took my hand and led me up the steps. “You sit on the deck, while I get lunch.” Edward took me outside.

“Can I help?”

“No. I have something special planned.” Edward grinned, and disappeared into the kitchen.

The table was already set with straw place mats and white paper napkins. Edward had put a vase of daisies on the table, and a bowl of grapes.

“This is pretty fancy,” I said when he appeared from the kitchen carrying two glasses of orange juice.

“I don’t have a beautiful lady here for lunch often, make that never.” He put the glasses down and kissed the top of my head.

“Virgin orange juice or would you like it hit with champagne?” he asked.

“Virgin.” I sipped it. “I’m trying to live by my parents’ rule: No alcohol before six p.m. I’ve become a bit of a lush.”

“Luscious but not a lush. I agree. It’s too beautiful a day to blur our senses. I’ll be right back.”

I toyed with a bunch of purple grapes and tried to relax. It was the middle of the day and we were having lunch. Drinking
virgin
orange juice. Nothing was going to happen.

Edward came back on the deck and put two small-lidded pots on the table. He had a loaf of bread wedged under his arm, which he dropped on a plate.

“Take off the lid,” he instructed.

I took off the lid. It smelled of the most wonderful cheese and herbs.

“It’s broccoli fondue. I made it,” he said proudly.

“You made a fondue?”

“I figured it was time to exorcise your demons. Try it.”

I dunked a slice of French bread into the fondue. The cheese melted in my mouth and dribbled down my chin.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“It’s fantastic. Where did you learn to make fondue?” I asked.

“In my college fraternity. Then it was basically throw everything into a pot and soak it in cheese and beer. The chef at the restaurant gave me a recipe for a more sophisticated fondue,” Edward explained.

“You’ll have to make it for Max, he’ll be impressed.” I wiped my mouth with the napkin.

“I don’t want to compete with Andre. I’m just trying to help you overcome your fears.”

“I’m not afraid of fondue,” I laughed.

“Not anymore. We’re conquering one phobia at a time: restaurants, hostesses, fondue. Maybe next we’ll tackle parasailing.” He grinned.

“I’ve never tried parasailing,” I said.

“There’s plenty of time,” he replied.

*   *   *

“Can I help you clean up?” I asked, after we had scraped the pots clean of fondue.

“No, I’ll do it. Why don’t we have dessert in the living room?” Edward stacked plates and dishes and went into the kitchen.

I wandered into the living room and sat on a low leather sofa. There was one bookshelf crammed with framed photos of Edward Jr. and Jessica. The younger photos showed them in Hawaii, riding bicycles, and clowning around with assorted pets.

“There aren’t any photos of Julie, in case you’re looking,” Edward said as he set down two bowls of vanilla ice cream and a jug of chocolate sauce.

“I wasn’t looking, but now that you mention it, there aren’t. God, does that mean I’m going to have to go through all my photos of Max and get rid of the ones with Andre in them?”

“At least you’re divorcing while Max is young. I had to sift through fifteen years of photographs for Edward, and thirteen for Jessica. I didn’t want my ex-wife looking at me every day,” Edward said.

“Minefield after minefield,” I mumbled.

“But you’re getting through them. You’re a star,” he said.

“The ice cream is delicious.” I poured chocolate sauce over it.

“I made the chocolate sauce, too, but don’t tell my son. He thinks I’m getting too domesticated.”

“I remember. I don’t see any homemade doilies lying around, so you’re safe,” I giggled.

“The first year after my divorce I had the typical bachelor pad: a fridge that held one bottle of vodka, one lemon, and an onion; a loaf of bread in the pantry and a never-ending supply of salami, because it was the only meat that didn’t spoil when I was too drunk to put it back in the fridge. One day I looked around and thought: I’ve never lived like this before, why would I want to live like this now? That’s when I met Sam and he convinced me to pick up and move here. He was an advertising exec refugee. His ex-wife was getting seventy percent of his paycheck and he couldn’t afford to go to work anymore.” He paused and licked his spoon. “Laguna’s great, close enough to the kids but far enough from Julie for the wounds to heal.”

“That’s one thing I’m afraid of. Ross is such a small town.” I put my bowl on the table.

“One fear at a time.” He leaned close and kissed me on the lips.

“I haven’t shown you the rest of the house.” He got up and took my hand.

I swallowed. This was the moment when I should say I have to go. I needed to get back to the hotel for Max. My mother was waiting for me. Any excuse to hop back in the Mini, thank him for an amazing lunch, and return, a virgin, to the St. Regis. I knew if I followed him, we would end up in his bedroom, with all my defenses down.

“It’s not a very big house.” Edward grinned as he poked his head into the study, guest bedroom, and adjoining bath. “The best part is up here.” He led me up a steep flight of stairs. At the top was an open space with floor-to-ceiling windows looking at the ocean, and a king-sized bed with a white wooden bed frame. The bed was covered in a pale blue comforter and heaped with pillows.

“Oh, my gosh.” I stood at the window, as far from the bed as possible, drinking in the view.

“I splurged up here. I bought a new bed, sheets, pillows, the works. It’s even more beautiful at night, when you can see all the lights twinkling up and down the coast.”

“It’s heaven,” I said.

Edward sat on the bed and took my hand. “Come here,” he said.

I sat next to him. He kissed me for a long time, rubbing his hand up and down my spine. Then he stood me up and pulled my dress over my head. He turned me around and unsnapped my bra so I was standing in my panties and bare feet. He reached forward and sucked my nipples, gently cupping my breasts in his hands. Then he took one hand and edged my panties down my legs until they lay in a heap at my ankles.

My legs trembled, but he held me up, and slowly he moved his mouth down to my stomach, nudged my legs open, and thrust his fingers inside me, reaching deeper than he had before.

This time he didn’t stop, but pressed his mouth firmly against my stomach, and kept pressing his fingers further, until I could feel myself gasping and shuddering and coming.

“Oh God,” I whispered, when the waves started to recede.

“I thought you’d like that.” He smiled. “Come here.” He pulled me onto the bed and lay down beside me.

He took off his clothes; his chest was thick and covered with light gray hair. He kissed my neck and my throat, and ran his fingers through my hair. Then he climbed on top of me, and when he entered me I felt like I was opening up to a place that could not possibly exist. I couldn’t wait. I clung to his back, and came again and again.

“Well, wow,” I said finally.

“Wow, yourself.” He turned to me and traced the tip of my nose with his finger. “I’d say there are a lot of new things we can try together.” He grinned.

“It seems that way.” My body was still reeling.

“Stay here, I have something for you.” He threw on his shorts and walked into a narrow walk-in closet.

“This is for you.” He placed a small box wrapped in plain gold paper on the bed.

“For me?” I asked.

“Open it.”

I sat up, still naked, and unwrapped the box. Inside was a black velvet jewelry box. I snapped it open.

“Edward!” Inside the box were the monarch butterfly earrings we had seen at the hotel gift shop.

“Do you like them?” he asked.

“I love them, but why?” I examined the tiny pieces of colored gems encrusted in the butterflies’ wings.

“Remember when we met, at the monarch butterfly release?”

“Of course. You gave me nutrition tips,” I laughed.

“And Max came up and asked you to make a wish?”

“Yes,” I said, and nodded.

“I made a wish, too: that I would get to know you better.”

“Oh,” I said.

“And that wish is starting to come true.” He kissed me slowly, on the lips.

“I really don’t know what to say.” I kissed him back.

“You’ll keep them?”

“Of course I’ll keep them, they’re gorgeous. I might not wear them in front of my mother just yet.” I grinned.

“We’ll work on her,” he said. He kissed me again, and pushed me back onto the bed.

*   *   *

Eventually we got dressed, and I tucked the jewelry box into my bag. We climbed into the Mini and sped down the hill. We kept the windows down so it was hard to hear each other, but I was in a state of sexual bliss and didn’t feel the need to talk.

“It was a wonderful afternoon,” I said when we pulled up to the St. Regis.

“The best.” He grinned. “Be a good girl tonight; I’ll call you in the morning.”

*   *   *

I headed straight to Kids’ Club to get Max. If we went upstairs together my mother could ask Max questions about his day, and I could steal into the shower until my body regained its equilibrium.

“Hey, Max, how was sea kayaking?” I opened the doors to Kids’ Club and found Max engrossed in the Wii.

“Awesome! Let me tell you all about it,” he replied.

“Why don’t you wait till we get to the suite, so you can tell Grandma and me at the same time.” I took his hand.

We rode the elevator up to the suite and opened the door. My mother was out on the balcony with a glass in her hand. I stopped at the wet bar and poured myself a gin and tonic. It wasn’t six o’clock yet, but I needed a shot of Dutch courage. I remembered my prep school days. My mother had a nose like a hound dog for smelling mischief. If I stood next to someone who was smoking at a party, or dipped my finger in a friend’s rum and Coke, she could tell. I sprayed myself with cologne in the guest bathroom.

“Well, hi, you two.” My mother came inside. “How was your day?” She looked at me.

“Mine was great,” I said, beaming. “Max, tell us about sea kayaking.”

Max launched into a description of the amazing fish he saw. I realized even with the gin and tonic inside me, I was a ball of nerves.

“I think I’m going to shower and change for dinner.” I put my drink down.

“I’ll order,” my mother said. “I’m sure Max is starving. Amanda, there’s something I want to talk to you about after Max goes to bed. You’re not going out, are you?”

“Nope, home for the night.” I gave her my sweetest smile and escaped to my room.

*   *   *

Half an hour later, I emerged wearing a long-sleeved Diane von Furstenberg caftan and Chanel ballet slippers. I knew my mother was a sucker for anything with a Diane von Furstenberg label. I hoped the Chanel slippers would remind her of when I was a sweet and innocent ten-year-old who wanted desperately to become a ballerina. As a finishing touch, I tucked my hair into a prim bun. I left the butterfly earrings, snug in their box, on my bedside table.

My mother and Max were already seated at the table. Max was on his third slice of bread and hummus, and my mother sipped a cold gazpacho.

“I ordered you the shrimp risotto. I had it the other night, the sauce is delicious.” My mother smiled. She was wearing a yellow Polo dress and pastel flip-flops.

I took a spoonful of rice and shrimp and realized I was starving. One of the things I had missed about sex was the wonderful way it enhanced my appetite. Tonight was the first time I had really tasted food since I had seen Andre and Ursula swallowing each other’s tongues.

My mother seemed to have an appetite as well. I watched her nervously as she ate salmon and mashed potatoes, but if she was about to give me a morals lecture she didn’t let on. She and Max held an animated discussion on the chances of various
American Idol
contestants, and she ate all the mashed potatoes without any prompting. When we examined the dessert cart she almost fought Max for the chocolate raspberry cheesecake. I nibbled the butterscotch parfait; I had to control myself if I wanted to look good stripped down to my underwear.