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The kid knew exactly how to pull at my heart strings and bring a smile to my face. "I miss you too, Claire-bear," I told her. "Now go back to sleep and think of ice cream cones and jelly beans."

"OK," her little voice complied. "Good night, Auntie."

"Good night, Claire-bear," I told her. "I love you."

"I love you too," she said and I could hear her yawn. After I hung up, I backed out of the driveway and headed towards my parents house. When I pulled into the driveway, their car was parked in front of the garage. They got out and I handed them their house key and they were finally able to unlock the front door. Once inside my Mom handed me the garage remote and pointed me to a drawer in the kitchen for new batteries. "You're kidding me, right?" I asked her.

"You've seen what happens when I left your father to do it," she pointed out and I conceded and took the remote. She went upstairs to change and I rummaged through the drawer for some batteries but couldn't find any. "There's no batteries in here," I yelled up to her from the bottom of the stairs.

"Go check your dad's office!" she shouted back.

I headed over to my dad's home office, or his "domain" as he liked to call it, which was full of memorabilia from the various decades his band had been around. The shelves were full of figurines, toys and magazines. He had a few guitars in one corner of the room and of course, the walls were adorned with posters of the band and gold and platinum records. My dad was sitting at his desk, checking his emails and voicemails.

I held up the remote. "Batteries," I told him and he pulled open a desk drawer and handed me a pack of batteries. I sat down on the couch and went about fixing their remote.

"How was business today?" he asked.

"It was good. Full house, both seatings," I answered and he nodded approvingly.

"Have you thought about expanding?" he asked and I could tell he was getting into his businessman mode.

"I'm just trying to keep my head above water right now, Dad," I told him. After three years, the restaurant was starting to turn a profit and I was finally relaxing a bit. I wasn't quite ready to go through another start up just yet.

"You gotta think ahead," he advised me. "I mean look at Ramsay, Flay, Legasse, those guys didn't stop at one. They've built a brand and hell, Ramsay's built a frickin' empire."

"I know," I answered, having finished replacing the batteries I tossed the battery box back to him. I slouched back into the couch. "I'm just enjoying the fruits of my labor right now. And maybe in a year or so when I can hand things over to Jason and Lenny can find someone she trusts to manage Claire, we'll start thinking about a new place. But I need to figure out what kinda cuisine first."

"You're smart, like your old man," he complimented me and himself. "You'll come up with something. Thanks for coming by tonight, kiddo. I hope we weren't interrupting anything." He gave me a wink. My father knew me well.

"Nah, Alex had just dropped me off at home and I was actually gonna call it a night and turn in," I answered.

He arched an eyebrow at me, one of his trademark expressions. "You were out with Alex?"

"Yeah, she was on a date with some dick head," I explained. "He was trying to impress her, passing off that he knew me."

"Did he know you? Do you know him?"

"I met him long ago when I was travelling," I answered. "Didn't like him then, still don't like him now."

"Don't like who?" my mom asked, coming into the office. She had changed into her silk pajamas and she went over and sat down on my dad's lap.

"Some guy Alex was on a date with," my dad took the liberty of answering.

"Alex? Grace's Alex?" my mom questioned. "She's dating already?"

"I think she was bored, and he's a fellow writer at the L.A. Times so I think she was just humoring him," I replied. "I don't think he's got the balls to see her again now that he knows she's much more connected to our family than he'll ever dream of being."

"So how did she end up driving you home?" my dad asked, a curious look on his face, which led to my mom giving me a questioning look.

"Her date was at my restaurant," I answered. "So she stayed afterwards and we hung out for awhile, went for a couple of drinks."

"She's pretty," my dad observed, which earned him a slap on the shoulder from my mom. "What? I'm just stating a fact. She's pretty....but not as pretty as you, my beauty queen." I rolled my eyes when my mom gave him a kiss.

"Please, not in front of the child," I joked, covering my eyes.

"I'm going to bed," my mom said and stood up. She gave my dad another kiss and then came over and gave me a kiss. "Thanks for coming to the rescue, Rye. And be careful with Alex. Godmother or not, Aunt Grace will kill you if you mess with Alex."

I shook my head, knowing better than to protest and she left.

"She's right you know, Grace will kill you," my dad reiterated.

"You of all people know that when you tell me to not do something, what do I do?" I asked.

"What we told you not to do," he answered, knowing me well. "I also know that if you get involved with Alex to spite Grace, you'll only do exactly what Grace expects and Alex is the one who gets hurt in the end."

"Alex isn't even gay," I pointed out, ignoring the fact that what he said was right. "Dad, can I ask you something?"

He sat back in his chair and shut off his computer monitor. "Shoot."

"You love mom, right?"

"You're not going to ask me to marry her are you?"

"No. I've accepted that you'll always live in sin. Besides, if you got married, then I'd be expected to get into relationships."

"Yes, I love your mother, very much so."

"When did you know that she was the one, you know. that you didn't want to marry?"

"I knew she was the one I didn't want to marry when she refused to sleep with me," he answered laughing at my question. "You know the lifestyle, girls and women everywhere throwing themselves at you so you're getting a little sumpin' sumpin' left right and center. One day, I'm at a charity fundraiser and I get introduced to this beautiful super model and she wouldn't give me the time of day. At first, I thought she was just being prissy and stuck up but then I found out that she just didn't want to be another groupie."

"And in all honesty, you really did just want to mount her," I commented and he paused and nodded.

"So after much persistence, I finally got her to agree to go out with me," he continued. "I took her out to a nice dinner at a jazz club, we enjoyed the music and wine and at the end of the night, she not only didn't invite me in, she didn't even let me kiss her."

"She was playing hard to get?" I asked.

"She was being herself - a good girl who wasn't just going to let some musician treat her like a..." he trailed off.

"Ho," I finished for him.

"So at that point, for me, it became all about the chase and trying to get the girl," he continued. "We went on three dates before she let me kiss her, and then it was five months before we...," he trailed off again. I held up my hand, indicating that I didn't need for him to spell it out for me.

"But by the time I got to make love to your mother," he said and I closed my eyes and tried to block out the image, "I had gotten to know her, and I had fallen in love with who she was. I realized that she was the one I wanted to share my life with and raise a family with."

"Have you ever cheated on her?" I asked, not really sure why because after I asked the question, I didn't think I wanted to know the answer.

"Have you ever cheated on a girl?" he turned the tables on me without answering.

"I'm not committed to anyone, so no," I answered. "You and Uncle Sal taught me that, remember? You can't cheat if you're not committed."

"I taught you to be careful about marriage," he corrected me. "I'm committed to your mother in my own way. I don't need a marriage certificate or some priest pronouncing my commitment to make it any more real than it is. Tell me something, Rye, is your reason for not having a girlfriend because you don't think you can stay faithful?"

"There isn't a day that goes by that I don't run into a girl I'd like to..." I replied, "get to know better."

"You're young, you're beautiful," he told me. "Live life to the fullest. Just remember to keep your eyes open so that you don't miss it when someone special comes along."

"What if I don't have it in me?" I asked him. "What if I don't have that gene that makes people want to be monogamous?"

"Well, only you can know that," he answered. "Sometimes we live our lives the way others perceive it, but whatever you do, you stay true to who you are inside. Be honest to yourself. Capisce?"

"Capisce," I answered and went over to give him a hug. "Goodnight, Dad."

"Goodnight, kiddo," he said and got up and walked me out to my car.

"You know, the thrill of the chase is an addictive feeling, especially when it comes to forbidden fruit," he said as I got into my car. "But don't get too wrapped up in the chase that you miss the 'Eureka!' moment."

I took my father's advice and drove home. Crawling into bed, the image of a brunette with bright blue eyes and deep dimples wearing a dark red dress was the last thing on my mind before I drifted off to sleep.

It felt like I had just fallen asleep when I my phone rang and jarred me out of my slumber. I looked at the clock. It was past noon.

"Hello?" I answered the phone.

"Hey, Rye," Lenny's voice came through the line.

"I'm not coming home this morning so don't wait for me," she told me and she sounded like she was grinning from ear to ear.

"I take it Gabriella forgave you?" I asked, sitting up in my bed.

"Oh yes," Lenny answered. "Many times over."

"Congratulations, my friend," I told her. "At least one of us got laid last night."

"Many times over," she repeated.

"Yes, I got that the first time," I told her, rolling my eyes.

"What happened with Alex? She didn't give into your charms?" she teased me.

"We went back to the restaurant after you left and I made her something to eat," I recounted. "Then she drove me home."

"And?" my best friend prodded.

"No and," I told her. "She went home. She was tired so I didn't want to keep her."

"Riiiight," she dragged out. "And since when did you get so chivalrous?"

"Since I've been threatened with physical harm if I touch a hair on her head," I answered.

"Like you've ever heeded threats in the past," Lenny commented.

"Is there a point to this discussion?" I asked irritably.

"Someone's on the rag," Lenny half joked. "Either that or you're in dire need of a woman."

'Perhaps a brunette with dimples and an accent that can strip me naked?' a voice in my head called out. I clamped down on the thought. "Goodbye, Lenny. I'll see you at the restaurant."

I hung up the phone and the alarm on my iPhone rang out. I reached over and grabbed it and turned off the alarm. I started to check Facebook and Twitter for updates. Twitter updated that I had a new follower. Someone named Chelsea. Fuck! Why were lesbians so stalker-like that way? I went into my contacts and looked up her entry and deleted it. There was no way in hell I was going to call her up now. Then I saw Alex's new iPhone number and wondered if I should give her a call. To thank her for the ride home of course. I pressed the call button before I could change my mind and waited while it rang. And rang. and rang. Her voicemail greeting came on.

"Hey, Alex, it's Riley," I said. "I just wanted to thank you for the ride home last night and I hope I didn't keep you out too late. Anyway, um, yeah, thanks." I ended the call and dropped my head into my hands when I realized how idiotic I had sounded. What the hell was wrong with me? I shook it off and jumped into the shower. After the shower, I checked my phone. Nothing. I got dressed and headed out to the cafe down the street for a coffee and a bite to eat and then I headed to the restaurant.

When I walked into the kitchen, the delivery guy had just finished unloading our order from his truck and the boxes were stacked near the fridge. Jason was looking over the order form and when the guy finished stacking the last box onto the delivery pile, Jason handed him the order and said, "Now take it all back."

"What?" the delivery guy asked him.

"You're two fucking hours late," Jason told him, his hands on his hips. Jason may be the gayest guy I know, but when it came to being assertive, he had a six-foot three, two hundred pound frame and a gleaming shaved head that could intimidate even the most belligerent of delivery guys, and trust me, there were lots of them we've had to handle.

"I needed this shit at noon," Jason continued. "We pay you to be here on time, so noon means noon, twelve o'clock. Not twelve fifteen, not twelve thirty, and most definitely not fucking two o'clock. So haul this shit back to your boss and tell him to call me if he's got something to say to me!"

The guy swore under his breath but then packed up the boxes onto his dolly and took them back to his truck. After about twenty minutes, he was gone. "So do we have what we need?" I asked Jason after I had changed.

"Yeah," he answered. "I called another guy from West Hollywood and he brought me everything we need."

"Good," I told him, pulling out my knife case to help with the prep. "I was sick of this guy anyway."

"Jorge thinks you're a piss poor dishwasher," Jason told me as worked side by side cleaning and cutting up vegetables. "Said you missed a plate and cutlery last night."

"I no said piss poor, chef," Jorge shouted from the back as he flattened out some boxes for the recycling bin. "I said you missed something."

Jason smirked. "I'm just fucking with you, Jorje."

"Pendejo!" Jorje shouted back.

"Are you offering me yours, Jorge?" Jason shouted back at him and our dishwasher simply shook his head and took the flattened cardboard out the back door.

"I swear, one day Jorge's just gonna bend over and get it over with," I said, shaking my head. "I came back here last night. A friend was hungry."

"Tell me you scrubbed down the counter after you had sex," Jason said without looking up from his work.

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't," I teased. "Maybe we did it over in your area."

"Christ," he exhaled. Then he stopped working and looked at me. "Seriously, did you scrub it down?"

I laughed and shook my head. "I'm just fucking with you. Alex was hungry so I made her a late night snack."

"Was she the one in the red dress last night?" he asked, resuming his peeling and slicing.

"Yeah," I answered and images of how the dress clung to her figure in all the right places flashed through my mind.

"She's pretty," he commented and I had to do a double-take when no further snarky comment was forthcoming.

"Yeah, she is," I agreed and we continued working in a companionable silence for awhile. As we worked, I thought about the menus we had put together over the years since we first opened and realized that we didn't have much to offer in terms of vegetarian dishes. Granted that French cuisine focused more on rich flavors which were often derived from animal products and fats, it wasn't like vegetarianism was foreign to me. It's likely that half the lesbians in the world were vegetarian, if not vegan, and our restaurant and staff were no strangers to the LGBT community.

"We should try having a vegetarian menu," I said, still lost in my thoughts.

Jason stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me. "Are you asking for a kick in the crotch?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I love meat as much as you do -- okay, well maybe not in the same way, but come on, there are lots of vegetarians out there and by not having much of a choice for them, we're limiting our clientele to a certain group. Or rather excluding a certain group of consumers."

He looked at me speculatively and then a smile crept onto his face. "You like her don't you?"

"What?" I asked, not following his question.

"The red dress. Alex," he clarified. "You like her."

"I...don't...I-I mean...," I stuttered and before I could recover, he winked and whispered, "It's okay, your secret's safe with me."

Alex

As I was sipping my coffee at the breakfast table, Grace came in, still in her robe and sat down across from me. She held out the paper she had brought into the kitchen and proceeded to read aloud from it. "I have, in the past, had the misfortune of having had a lying, cheating and manipulative ex-boyfriend. Although it took some time and a physical move to a new continent, I was able to see that although I was not completely blameless for the failed relationship, he was the liar and cheater. Armed with the knowledge of things to look for in potential philanderers who crossed my path, I was recently introduced to a new breed of the womanizer persona. This time, in the form of a woman. Do not kid yourself, womanizers do come in both genders and although their techniques may be different, their ultimate goals are the same - to bed as many women as they can."

She looked up from the newspaper and looked at me and then continued reading. "This new predator, at first glance, is much more charming and comes across as honest and the way she captures her prey is by using blatant honesty. She makes no pretenses as to what she wants from her targets and draws on that fantasy that many women have - that they can change the player to be a committed lover. So despite all logic and common sense, they find themselves attracted to her and succumb to her attractiveness and seductive words. However, the situation begs the question - does her upfront disclaimers and truths that she's not looking for anything other than a night of passion absolve her from the trail of broken hearts that she inevitably leaves in her path? Or do we put the blame on the women who fall for her, for letting themselves be fooled, or who didn't heed her words?"

Grace put the newspaper down and looked at me. "Come on, then, out with it."

"Out with what?" I asked innocently.

"What's happened then?" Grace continued to prod. "I can only presume that the article is about our beloved Riley Carson."

"Nothing's happened," I answered. "I've had a chance to see her working her charm and am simply making an observation."

"Do you think she'll take kindly to this?" my sister inquired. "Or are we going to see a blood bath tonight at dinner?"

"I've merely called it like I saw it," I answered. "I haven't embellished anything nor have I called her anything that she's not already professed to being."

Grace nodded slowly and stood up. "I'm glad you've, for lack of a better term, seen the light. I love Riley, but I love you more and the last thing I want is for you to fall victim to her wily ways." With that, she went upstairs to change for work and left me to contemplate whether or not Riley would have seen my article and what she thought of it. Was reading the truth going to be too much for her to handle?

We entered the restaurant and were greeted by Sarah and Rod who were already there. I had learned that it had become tradition since the restaurant opened, that for Thanksgiving, Riley would shut down the establishment for the entire holiday and she and her crew would cook up a traditional Thanksgiving dinner for their families and serve it up buffet style for what I guessed to be well over sixty people. I saw Sam and Claire come out from the kitchen.

"Hi, Lenny," I greeted a familiar face. "Is she back there?"

"Yeah, but I wouldn't go back there," Lenny answered hesitantly. "She's, um, not happy."

I should have listened to the sinking feeling in my gut but I went ahead and pushed open the door to the kitchen anyway. From what I could tell, the food was near ready and were being loaded into chafing dishes to be brought out to the front. I caught her eye as she was moving the turkey meat into one of the dishes.

"Hi," I said and walked closer to her and I saw her spine stiffen minutely.

"What can I do for you?" she asked coolly.

"I just wanted to say hi and as foolish as it sounds, wondered if you needed any help," I answered.

"I do this for a living, Alex," she answered tersely. "I'm pretty sure I can handle feeding sixty plus people Thanksgiving dinner."

"Something the matter?" I asked, knowing the answer by now.

She put down the tongs she had been using and walked over to the kitchen doors to the dining room. She opened a door and stepped through it and I followed her into a quiet corner. She turned to face me, her hands on her hips. "You announce to all of Los Angeles that I'm a predatory womanizer who'll say and do anything to get into a woman's pants and you ask if something's the matter?" she practically spat out.

"I was simply making an observation," I tried to defend my article. "Everywhere I run into you, you're flirting with a girl, or they're falling over their feet flirting with you. You've made no pretenses, from when we first spent time, that you're anything but someone looking for a good time and nothing more. Isn't that who you are?"

She opened her mouth to answer but then paused and I saw something shift in her posture, as if the stiffness in her spine from earlier had morphed into a slight slump of the shoulders. She let out a long breath. She bit down on her bottom lip and slightly nodded her head. "You're right. You're absolutely right," she finally said. "That's who I am. I just didn't realize I was being researched for your article. I thought we were just friends hanging out. And for the record, I've only lied to you once, and that was when you asked if I was jealous."

I opened my mouth to respond, but she cut me off, "I have to get back. Have some wine. Enjoy yourself." And with that, she spun on her heels and disappeared back into the kitchen. I watched her disappear all the while still trying to remember when I had asked if she was jealous. And then the memory hit me. Bloody hell, it was in that very kitchen when we were talking about my date that night. I had teased her if she was jealous about my date and she said she wasn't. So she was lying then? Blimey.

The chafing dishes were brought out to a long table at the front and soon enough, everyone was seated with plates full of food. We ate, we drank and talked. Although we were seated at the same table, I noticed that she avoided my eyes throughout the entire dinner. When dinner was winding down, they brought out a TV from what I could only guess was the office or a storage room and soon enough, a football game was turned on. I noticed that Riley and her staff had quietly dispersed and cleared away the dishes from the dining room, leaving the guests to enjoy the game and their drinks.

I went to the bar for another glass of wine. Rod was there waiting for a club soda.

"That's quite a debut article, Alex," Rod said to me after I told the bartender what I wanted.

"You're not going to tell me I was too harsh are you?" I asked him.

"No, I think you got it spot on," he said, to my surprise. "Riley's created a certain lifestyle and image for herself and I'm sure my lifestyle and past probably has had somewhat of an influence on her choices."

"Rod, I wasn't judging her choices," I told him. "I was making an observation." I felt like I had been saying that too many times already.

He nodded. "I'm gonna tell you about an observation I made about ten, eleven, years ago," he began. "Riley was away in New York at school, and she came home during spring break and brought a friend with her. I say friend because Riley didn't refer to her as a girlfriend, but I knew there was more to it than just friendship. Anyway, for the week she was home, this friend of hers brought a demo tape and was quite persistent at trying to get me to listen to it, if you know what I mean."

I nodded my understanding.

"For the record, as a producer, I did listen to the demo, but I kept the girl at an arm's length. At any rate, that was the last time a girlfriend was ever in the picture for Riley," Rod concluded.

As I took in what Rod told me, my analytical brain took over and started to spin its wheels. I returned to the table with Rod, but my mind was occupied by all the thoughts flooding my brain to take part in the discussions at the table. When the game ended, we all got up to leave. We paid thanks to the chefs and cooks, and still Riley barely looked at me. I walked out with Rod, Sarah, Grace and the girls to the parking lot.

"Hey, Rock Stud, do you have the house keys?" Sarah asked Rod as they got to their car. He fished out a key ring from his pocket triumphantly.

"I thought you guys were going keyless nowadays," Grace asked.

"Yeah, last time we did that, we got locked out of the house," Sarah replied.

"You're kidding," Grace half asked.

"No, I kid you not," Sarah answered. "My darling boyfriend here got the code wrong, not once, but three times and the system shuts down for a certain amount of time," she scoffed.

"In my defense, you were the one who picked the code," Rod retorted.

"And I told you what it was," Sarah countered. "But you and your nimble fingers. The irony of it all is that Mr. Rock Star who plays a guitar for a living, fat fingered the numbers."

"Well, I've set up a code for myself now so I won't forget it," Rod threw in before opening the car door for her.

"When did this happen?" Grace asked Sarah.

"Last Friday night in the wee hours of the morning," she answered. "It would've been fine, but someone didn't change the batteries in the garage remote either so we couldn't even get into the garage. Thank god I raised my child right and she came over with the keys."

"Hey, are you saying Riley's not mine?" Rod joked.

"No, I just happened to find a guy who looked exactly like you to father her," Sarah said, rolling her eyes. "Good night, ladies."

We hugged them goodbye and Grace unlocked the Range Rover. Maddi and Kris climbed into the back seat and Grace turned to look at me. "Aren't you coming?"

"I need to talk to Riley," I told her. "Go ahead, I'll hire a taxi home."

"You can call her tomorrow," Grace told me.

"No, I need to talk to her now," I insisted. "I'll see you at home." I turned before she could stop me and headed back into the restaurant. The last of the guests and staff were leaving as I got to the door and I asked Lenny to let me talk to Riley. She quietly acquiesced and let me into the kitchen.

"Hey, Rye! Gabriella and I are heading back to her place for the night. You okay to lock up?" Lenny called out to Riley who was once again at the sink. Riley turned and nodded to Lenny. She finally looked at me when Lenny had left us and said, "Sorry, kitchen's closed."

Дата добавления: 2015-11-16