Malena Lott - Dating da Vinci

Judith's face softened. “Yes, it was different. But honestly, she's not what hurt him the most. He missed Jonathon most of all. Friends since they were three. His mother is still one of my best friends, but she knows not to discuss her daughter-in-law with me.”

“You never told me that.”

“Why would I? What does it have to do with you?”

“I'm just trying to piece things together. I'm sorry if it upsets you.”

Judith stepped forward and lifted my chin with her index finger. “It's you I worry about. Why don't you bring all three kids by tomorrow and they can play, and you can go out and have some fun.”

She never mentioned da Vinci by name. I knew she disapproved. She wore it on her skin as obviously as her coat. Her code for him was “fun.” He was a fling to her. I hoped she didn't find out about his moving in.

“I guess I'll see you at Thanksgiving dinner, Cortland,” Judith said as she turned to leave.

“Oh, I don't think I'm coming.”

“Of course you are. Don't be ridiculous. Your mother said she'd send you over for some pie.”

“Pie. I guess a man needs his pie.”

“Ramona makes a delicious pecan pie.”

“She does, does she?” He tilted his head my way. “I can't resist her pie, I suppose.”

“'Night, Mother.”

Judith turned off the main kitchen light, leaving Cortland and me sitting in the near dark, the full moon beaming through the cracked kitchen window. “I guess I should shove off unless you need me.”

Cortland stared at me and even when I looked away, I could feel his gaze on my face like a hot blast to my cheek. “I do need you, Ramona.”

“You know I meant with the baby.”

“I know what you meant. And you know what I mean.”

“I've told you-”

“I was going to break up with her tomorrow.”

Relief washed over me. “Still.”

“Da Vinci.”

“Yes.”

“Well, if you love him, I'll get out of the way. But if there's a chance.”

“A chance.”

“Possibility, probability, likelihood.”

“I know the synonyms, thankyouverymuch.”

“I put my house on the market. Will you help me look for a smaller one tomorrow? I don't trust realtors. They just tell you what you want to hear.”

“Kind of like men.”

“You don't believe that.”

“I have the kids tomorrow.”

“Nice try. Judith offered to watch the kids so you could have fun.”

“And house hunting with you would be fun?”

“Well, if delivering a baby in the middle of a shelter can be fun, then yes, house hunting can be fun.”

“I couldn't even pick out a bed, much less a house.”

“That's just it. I need your critical eye. Otherwise, I might just buy the first house I see.”

“I'm cleaning out my garage. I'm trying to purge the clutter before the new year.”

“A pre-new year's resolution?”

“Something like that.”

“I'll tell you what. You look for houses with me in the morning, and I'll help you clean your garage in the afternoon.”

“You don't take no for an answer, do you?”

“Not where you're concerned.”

“It's complicated.”

“Maybe. But worth it.”

I stood to leave, and Cortland held my pinkie. “You just never know what life's gonna throw you.”

“Take a chance?”

“On me.”

“On you.” My heart sped up. I could hear the baby crying in the other room. The kitchen felt smaller and smaller, until it was only two feet of space between us. Arm's length, yet I could still feel him in my heart. He moved his hand up my arm, his touch sending electrical vibrations throughout my body. Rachel would be gone, history. She was nothing to him, I knew. But it didn't mean she wouldn't hate me for it. It may not register on the Richter scale of betrayal like Jonathon and Joel, but she could see it as betrayal all the same. She was my sister, far from perfect, the most egotistical woman I knew, but she was family.

And what of da Vinci? If I gave Cortland a chance and we didn't work out, I'd lose da Vinci forever.

ANH HANDED ME THE Flirtini-a martini made of vodka, champagne, and pineapple juice-and tossed her flip-flops off her feet. She wore them all year around, even in the dead of winter. She said Vietnamese were hot-blooded, but I told her in her case, it was more likely her hot-headed nature. She didn't argue.

It was Girls' Night In, something we were used to since I couldn't afford Girls' Night Out anymore. The last of Joel's life insurance money had been used for that bed and some Christmas gifts for the boys I knew their father would want them to have. I would be on my own financially, yet for the first time I knew I could make it.

Anh had become quite a cocktail waitress from our GNI evenings. “She's unbelievable,” Anh said, taking a sip of the concoction she'd mixed and rolling her eyes. “This is why a woman should not get in a relationship with a divorced man: you don't just date them, you date their exes. It's a threesome, without the pleasure.”

I joined her on the couch, still high from my own unbelievable Saturday, only for a very different reason. My garage was pristine, every inch litter-free, as organized as an After on a home improvement show. And the house hunting with Cortland hadn't been bad, either. That is, until he spotted the house across the street and two doors down that was for sale, a cottage-looking home with a wraparound front porch, blue shutters and immaculate landscaping. Mrs. Thompson had died six months prior, and her three grown boys were selling it and splitting the profits. I'd watched enough HGTV to know the reason her house wasn't selling wasn't because it wasn't cute, but because it was cutesy cute. Mrs. Thompson had collected ducks. She had duck borders and duck towels and duck rugs and ducks painted on the walls.

Cortland saw beyond the ducks. Besides, he claimed he liked to renovate. “My wife wanted everything brand new,” he complained. “I like to fix things with my own hands.”

Which got me to thinking about his hands: ones that had lulled people to sleep for surgery, ones that had pulled out a beautiful baby girl the day before, ones that had roamed over my body at the restaurant two weeks prior.

“At least da Vinci has no ex,” Anh went on.

“I'm not so sure,” I said, tossing her an envelope he'd gotten in the mail that day. It would've been an ordinary air-mail envelope, save for two things: the penmanship was beautiful, carefully scripted by someone who relished writing da Vinci's name, and the return address noted the sender as Chiara, which meant “bright and famous.” None of his sisters were named Chiara, I knew, and I doubt they would've spritzed the envelope with perfume, either.

“Smells sexy,” Anh said. “I thought he didn't have anyone special back home?”

“Who knows,” I downed the Flirtini as Anh poured me another. “He's at another frat party tonight, so I'll ask him tomorrow. I hate feeling jealous.”

“Of Chiara or the frat party?”

“Both. When I'm away from him, I start thinking I'd be okay with him leaving, but as soon as I see him, I want him again.”

“It's the pheromones. He's a magnet guy. You can't help being drawn to him. Especially with amazing sex. He got chakra two back in action. As long as he doesn't make a habit of peeing in the bed.”

I considered the sex, wishing I hadn't gotten used to it. Da Vinci did things to me I'd never let Joel do. I'd been so afraid to explore with Joel, afraid he would think badly of me, especially after we had kids. The sex kept the loneliness at bay. I grabbed a chocolate-covered strawberry from the dish on the table. Anh insisted our Girls' Night In consist of more than Ruffles and ranch dip this time, so she set us up properly: sushi, loads of chocolate and enough Flirtini mix for a party of twelve. “So you were saying… about being in a threesome with my sister?”