Amanda Hill - Love Like That

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Meet Dalton Moss: quick-witted, impulsive, aggressively unambitious; a halfhearted assistant to a Hollywood events planner, she has a penchant for dive bars and abusing her mother's credit card.Meet Dalton's boyfriend, Roman: charming, intellectual, worldly; he lands in L.A. just long enough to slip a two-carat diamond on her finger before flying right off again.Now meet Dalton's other boyfriend, Jeremy: perfect in his imperfection, surly in his attraction to her and can match her beer for beer; she doesn't want to love him, but can't help herself, despite Roman–and despite Jeremy's other girlfriend.Confused? So is Dalton.Now that she's engaged, twenty-five-year-old Dalton figures she should temper her fiery, furtive relationship with Jeremy. After all, this is her chance to shed her bad-girl habits and live happily ever after. It's a no brainer: Roman's offering a rescue from her drowned existence in L.A. But Jeremy could be her twisted ticket to wonderland. She's been holding out for a crushing feeling, a love like that, but will she figure out which man she has it with before she loses them both?

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“Where will you be going this time?” Electra asked.

“I put in proposals for three places in Africa.”

“Africa’s awfully far away,” I said dubiously.

He jostled my shoulders. “It’s really not when you think about it. You just get on a plane and go. Besides, I’m staying here for three whole weeks. Just to be with my baby.”

I smiled. He wrinkled his nose at me as he smiled back.

“Can we go to Ruth’s Chris tonight like we did the last time when you came, Roman?” Ava piped up. She was sitting on the floor, cutting out magazine pictures with pink-handled scissors.

“Just say when, bella.”

I love that Roman is so generous without being grand or boastful about it. I love that he is so easy-breezy. He treats my friends as if they are special because he knows they’re special to me. It’s not like he’s some walking, talking, ever-smiling human Ken. I’ve seen him get pissed. I’ve heard him yell. Sometimes he can be the biggest SOB. But he doesn’t get put off very easily and that is really important to me.

Having Roman around was great. He would drop me off at work in the mornings so he could use my car during the day. Then he would pick me up in the evenings and we’d chat about this and that as we drove to the house. We’d cook dinner together and watch movies he’d rented for us, or read side by side in bed. I thought about how nice it was to be together, not having to worry about stupid shit like getting wasted or wasting time. It was cozy and fulfilling. When he’s here, life is grand. When he’s gone, life’s just life. When he’s not around I feel like there’s no end in sight. I’m a fish in a tank, dreaming of the ocean.

“You got a nice guy there,” Ava’s friend Dylan Waters told me one night, having randomly materialized. Technically you could say Dylan’s my friend, too, but I’m happy to let Ava take all the credit. It irks me how he’ll disappear for months and then suddenly he just shows up and starts hanging around all the time, giving unsolicited advice and acting like he owns the place.

“Thanks for the tip. Now, what are you doing here?”

He was in control of the kitchen, chopping up vegetables for a burger barbecue. He handed me a piece of avocado before dragging on a cigarette. “Miss me, did ya?”

I rolled my eyes.

“She called me,” he explained, with a shrug.

“That much I gathered. Now, what are you doing here?”

He laughed as he pressed a bottle of Tim’s Pete’s Wicked Ale into my hand. “Just shut up and drink this, will ya? It’s the last of the dude’s brew. He packed up his khakis and moved back to New Haven without even saying goodbye.”

“I take it you’re here to console her, then?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You know it,” he said proudly, like it was some seriously gallant act on his part. Yeah, really chivalrous. I’ve been observing this asshole’s methods since I was eighteen. He picks people up just to throw them over.

“You single right now?” I asked, eyeing him.

“Right now I am,” he said, winking.

It was a balmy evening and Ava and Electra were clustered around the patio table, wearing bright mango-and-banana tube tops and shimmery lip gloss. I pulled out a chair to join them as the men gravitated toward the grill.

I met these two during our very first week of college. We were having an “Around the World” party in our dorm where every room represented a different country and served a corresponding cocktail. My room represented the Ukraine so we were serving white Russians. You had to decorate and dress up so it was really authentic. I wore a fur hat and a sweater with fur cuffs to match. I don’t really remember how the three of us bonded. It’s hard to define the moment that you first become friends with somebody. They are so different from each other. Definitely the sugar and spice in my life.

In private, sometimes Jeremy refers to Ava as “Deprava.” He refers to Electra as “I’llfuckya.” Isn’t he clever.

Roman thinks Ava and Electra are entertaining and comical. When I asked him once if he thought they were freaky and over the top, he said of course not—they’re just girls.

“Dylan’s seriously unexpected appearance better not be your solution to getting over Tim,” Electra said to Ava, authoritatively. “I mean, if you’ve just summoned him here to dote on you, that’s acceptable…but I better not see you swooning!”

“I see you swooning over Dylan and I will definitely puke,” I added.

“He’s going to be my date at Aunt Carlotta’s wedding this weekend,” Ava explained. “You know I have to bring a date or Papa will make a fuss and try to set me up with Tony Montesilvano. I do realize Dylan’s hardly ‘date’ material, but at least he already knows the family.”

Electra and I exchanged glances. Yeah, okay. We could buy that because Ava’s pretty sensitive about exposing an unknown to the family. In fact, an unknown will usually run after meeting the family. The first complaint is typically the crazy priest, Father De Marco, who’s always shaking a crucifix and shouting drunkenly in Italian. The Damianos brought him along when they relocated from New Jersey. Ava says they moved for a change of pace, but I swear I once overheard Uncle Paolo say they had to “flee” New Jersey because of that “dispute” with the Gasparellos. Now they live on a heavily guarded, walled estate in Del Mar. I mean all of them, and we’re talking like thirty people. Ava’s stepmom, Anna, used to be a showgirl at Bally’s. She is only twenty-nine. Ava’s father, Carlo, married her after one date. Oh, and just for the record—Ava’s little brother, Luciano-Marciano, told me once that he and Anna do it in the closet sometimes when his father isn’t home. Why the closet? You tell me.

“I’m going to call Josh after dinner and make sure his ass is on a plane,” Electra told us. “Because if I find out he took a later flight due to some bullshit market disaster, you just better know he’s not getting any kitty when we go to Palm Springs!”

Electra’s boyfriend lives in New York City. She met him while he was getting his MBA at USC and these days he is a big-shot investment banker on Wall Street. Ava and I call him Mr. Big Bucks in private. Electra is supposed to move out there when she’s ready, but since she’s not ready, he just flies in every now and then to spend a bunch of money on her and get laid. They are planning to get married, but they don’t know when and neither of them is worried that they’ll break up so they don’t press the issue. Out of sight, out of mind is how she feels about Josh. But when Josh is in town, hey, love the one you’re with! Josh thinks Electra is all that and a bag of chips. The cat’s meow. The bee’s knees! He suspects nothing and thinks that his little jewel of a girlfriend is as faithful to him as the Pope is to the Catholic Church.

“Hey, how do you ladies want the burgers?” Dylan called.

“Bloody,” I replied.

“Ew, disgusting!” Electra shrieked. “And here’s something for you to file away for future reference, dipshit—you don’t cook a Gardenburger like a meat burger, you just cook it till it’s not frozen anymore.”

“Kiss my ass, bitch!” Dylan said merrily.

“Kiss mine!”

“You first!” He stuck his ass out and pointed at it. She kissed the air and he went crazy laughing. Roman shook his head and winked at me over the flames.

When we were done eating, Electra went inside to call Josh and the four of us stayed outside and smoked twilight cigarettes. The sky was all violet and red. Electra wrapped the fence with bamboo and put out tiki torches last summer to feign tropical. If not for the police helicopters circling overhead and the constant rush of passing traffic out on Fountain, the ambience would be downright sultry.

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