Sex, Not Love(9)
Her smile was as blinding as the sun. “I go here. Art major.”
She pushed off the ledge and swam to the other side of the fountain. I watched, intrigued by the randomness of her actions. Once she settled again, she cupped both sides of her mouth to yell to me, even though the fountain wasn’t that big. “Truth or dare?”
This girl was bizarre. And gorgeous. Who knew bizarrely gorgeous could be such a damn sexy combination.
“Truth,” I yelled back.
Her face scrunched in the cutest fucking way while she tapped her finger to her chin. When she figured out what she was going to ask, her face lit up so bright the only thing missing was a bubble over her head with a light bulb. I chuckled to myself.
“What’s the one thing you’re most afraid of?” she yelled.
The normal answer would have been death, considering I’d recently lost my mother. Or maybe I should’ve given a generic answer like spiders, or heights. But instead, I did what always got me into trouble—answering with unfiltered honesty.
“You breaking my heart.”
Chapter 5
Natalia
My cell phone rang as I was about to descend the stairs to catch a train back downtown. Seeing it was Anna, I backed up to the sidewalk so I wouldn’t lose service. I wasn’t in a hurry to get back home.
“Hey, Mrs. Weiner.”
She sighed. “Will you ever be able to say my new last name without cracking up?”
“I wouldn’t count on it. I still can’t believe you gave up Anna B. Goodwin to become Anna B. a Weiner.”
“I’m ignoring your curmudgeonly commentary because I’m in wedded bliss.”
“Curmudgeonly commentary? Your new husband’s vernacular is rubbing off on you.”
She laughed. “I’m on the way to the airport for our flight to Aruba, but wanted to run something by you.”
“What’s up?”
“Hunter is bugging my husband for your phone number. He says you gave it to him, but must have entered it wrong. Did you enter it wrong?”
“Nope. I entered the right number…to reach Eden.”
“Eden? Don’t tell me you’re still giving out phone-sex numbers at twenty-eight years old.”
“Of course not.”
“Then who is Eden?”
“She’s an escort who happens to have a very similar number to mine.”
Anna sighed. “So I take it you don’t want Hunter to have your phone number?”
“He’s a playboy who lives three-thousand miles away. What’s the point?”
“I guess. Although he’s actually a great guy. I thought you guys had a lot of chemistry.”
“Playing with chemistry leads to explosions.”
“Fine. Derek won’t give him your number—even though he’s been bugging him for days.” She exhaled. “How’s Izzy doing? Did she enjoy her week with her grandmother?”
“She said she’s never going back. I hate to admit it, but it made me feel a little better that she despises her, too.”
“You two needed this break.”
My stepdaughter, Isabella, has been living with me for two years now. Well, technically, I guess you could say she’s lived with me for three, since Garrett and I had full custody after his ex-wife died. Izzy lost her mother to cancer in seventh grade. Then, mid-eighth grade—October 31st, to be exact—she lost a second parent. Only this time, it wasn’t to illness. In the middle of the Halloween party we were hosting, my husband was arrested for running a Ponzi scheme at his prestigious investment firm. He was wearing a pirate costume at the time—irony at its finest.
“Yeah, we needed the break. She’s been somewhat civil to me since I got home. But that’ll change. Sunday is visiting day. Her crankiness usually ratchets up for a week after visiting Garrett. And this month, I wrote him a letter asking him to tell her she was getting pulled from private school after this year because I can’t afford it anymore. So she should be especially unhappy.”
Our monthly pilgrimages upstate were always difficult. Since New York state didn’t allow unaccompanied minors to visit inmates, I had to see my ex-husband every month, just so his daughter who hates me could visit with her dear old dad.
“You’re going to heaven for taking her to visit him once a month.”
“I hope not. It’ll be lonely without you there.”
She laughed. “I gotta run. We’re pulling up to the terminal.”
“Have a great trip! Don’t get pregnant. I’m not ready to be an aunt yet.”
“Says the woman who has custody of a fifteen year old.”
“Umm…you just made my point.”
“Love you. I’ll call you when I’m back.”
“Love you, too, Anna B. a Weiner.”
***
“Mrs. Lockwood?” the prison guard manning the desk called without looking up from his clipboard.
“You ready?” I turned to Izzy.
She pulled her earbuds from her ears and went to throw her stuff in a locker. While I always left any banned items in the car, Izzy couldn’t be without her earbuds for the short wait to see her father. God forbid I try to strike up a conversation with her. She kept the things in her ears twenty-four-seven, like most kids her age.