Chapter 6
Armando
A loud knock woke me the next morning. I sat up and blinked a few times as I tried to get my bearings.
Moments later, Tory stepped out of the bathroom, looking gorgeous and pulled together in a dress shirt and black pants. “Good morning, Armando,” he said. “That’s probably room service. I ordered us some breakfast.”
The clock on the nightstand told me it was nearly ten a.m. I tumbled out of bed and began gathering my clothes as I blurted, “I’m so sorry. I overslept.”
“It’s fine. We’re not in a hurry.”
“Okay. Do you mind if I take a quick shower?”
“Go right ahead. I asked the concierge to bring up a toothbrush and a couple of toiletries for you. They’re on the counter. If you need anything else, feel free to help yourself to my stuff.”
“Thanks for doing that,” I said, as I headed to the bathroom. “That was really thoughtful of you.”
After I rushed through my morning routine and got dressed, I slipped the toothbrush back into its plastic wrapper and stuck it in my back pocket.
There was no point in letting it go to waste.
Finally, I sprayed Tory’s cologne onto my wrist, pausing for a moment to enjoy its scent. It smelled crisp, clean, and expensive.
I put on my boots in the bedroom before joining him in the main part of the suite. Outside the wall of windows, the city was foggy and gray. My son had mentioned San Francisco’s “June Gloom.” Now I knew what he meant by that.
When I took a seat at the table, Tory filled my cup with coffee from a French press. I thanked him and asked, “What time is your flight back to L.A.?”
“They’re expecting me in about an hour and a half.”
“Your flight is expecting you?”
He looked embarrassed. “I know this is going to seem excessive, but my cousin Dante reserved a private jet for me. Or second cousin, technically. He’s one of the people I visited yesterday.”
“Really? He decided you needed something that luxurious for a ninety-minute flight?”
“I know it sounds totally over the top.” There had to be more to this story, because why would anyone randomly spend that kind of money?
Then again, the things rich people did rarely made sense to me.
Instead of trying to explain it, he said, “If you’re driving a rental car, maybe you can return it at the airport and fly with me, since you’re heading back to Southern California too.
There’s going to be plenty of room on the plane. ”
“Thanks for the offer, but I drove up in my truck, so I’ll need to drive back in it, too.”
“Right, of course.”
I took a sip of coffee and asked, “How are you getting to the airport?”
“By taxi.”
“Why don’t you let me take you? I’m heading south anyway, so I’ll be driving right past it.”
“I’d like that, as long as you’re sure it’s not any trouble.”
“It isn’t.”
This conversation felt a little awkward. Why was I so shy around him this morning? He seemed more reserved than usual, too. We’d been perfectly relaxed around each other the night before, but now we were acting like polite strangers.
After breakfast, Tory gathered his things and checked out of the hotel.
He started to flag down a parking attendant when we got outside, but I said, “They charge a fortune to park here overnight, so I found a spot on the street. It’s a few blocks away.
You can wait here if you want, and I’ll come and pick you up. ”
“I’d rather walk with you.”
“Okay. Want me to carry one of your bags?” He had a large suitcase on wheels, along with a garment bag that was draped over his arm.
“Thanks, but I’ve got it.”
Our walk took us straight down a steep hill—so much better than my hike up it the day before. Along the way, we talked about random stuff like the weather. Once we reached my truck, I opened the back of the camper shell for him so he could put his bags inside.
I’d never really cared that my ride was ancient and shabby, until now. But what did it matter if I drove a thirty-year-old rust bucket? Tory already knew he and I were from wildly different walks of life. This was probably what he’d expected me to drive.
I unlocked the passenger door for him before circling around to unlock my side. When I slid behind the wheel, I glanced at Tory, who was standing outside his open door.
He was holding up the anal sex pamphlet and a smiling stuffed eggplant, and he grinned at me and said, “All of this looks like a good time.”
“Oh shit.” I’d totally forgotten about Vee’s care package, which I’d left dumped out on the passenger seat.
I could feel myself blushing as I grabbed the tote bag and started cramming everything back into it.
“My son’s housemate works at a community health clinic.
He sent all of this with me after brunch yesterday. ”
“Don’t be embarrassed. I think it’s fantastic. I’m particularly fond of this little guy.” He wiggled the plush eggplant.
“Keep it. I have two.”
“You sure?”
“Definitely. And grab some rubbers, if you want.”
“I’d better leave those for you,” he teased. “What if you suddenly find yourself in a situation where you need a hundred condoms?”
“I’m pretty sure I don’t have any massive orgies on my calendar.”
“But you never know when one might spring up.”
I nodded and tried to keep a straight face. “That’s a good point.”
He seemed happy as he stuck the eggplant in the breast pocket of his suit jacket, positioning it so its googly eyes were peering out at the world. I said, “I dare you to board the jet with that sticking out of your pocket.”
“Oh, I fully intend to.”
“I don’t believe you.”
His dark eyes sparkled as he smiled at me. “I’ll send you photographic evidence.”
“Okay. I’ll be expecting it.”
That care package turned out to be the icebreaker we’d needed. The mood between us was a lot lighter on the drive to the airport, and I was grateful for that.
Tory found some directions on his phone, and all too soon, we pulled up in front of the private terminal, which was on a frontage road near SFO.
Two staff members rushed over to welcome him.
After they whisked away his luggage, he turned to me and said, “Text me when you get home, so I know you made it.”
“Are you saying that because you think my truck is going to break down on the drive?”
“One hundred percent. I have no idea how it got you here in the first place.”
“You shouldn’t judge it based on its appearance.”
“I’m not. I’m judging it based on the fact that it’s a hundred years old. Now, promise you’ll text me.”
“I promise.”
“Good.” He moved closer and rested his hands on my shoulders. “Will you go out with me next weekend?”
“Of course. Like I said before, I want to cook dinner for you next time we get together.”
“I’d love that. I’ll also try to think of something fun we can go out and do beforehand.”
“Okay.”
“I’d better get going, but are you sure you don’t want to abandon your truck, which is definitely going to break down on the drive home, and fly with me? We’d have fun on the plane.”
“Tempting, but I can’t.”
“That’s what I thought. Safe travels, Arie.” Tory leaned in and lightly brushed his lips to mine.
We started to separate, but then we gravitated right back together again. Our next kiss was wild. I threw my arms around him, and he picked me up and kissed me like his life depended on it.
By the time he put me down, my head was spinning. Tory grinned at me before turning and heading for the small terminal. I caught my breath as I watched him walk away. When he reached the door, he glanced back at me and waved before disappearing into the building.
I whispered, “Holy shit.” My legs felt shaky, so I climbed into my truck. I was still sitting there about five minutes later, when Tory sent me a selfie. He was smiling at the camera and sitting on the plane with the eggplant sticking out of his pocket.
I chuckled at that and started the engine, but I only drove about a hundred yards before pulling to the side of the road. A tall chain-link fence stood between me and the wide tarmac.
While I waited for his plane to take off, Tory sent me two more photos, about three minutes apart. One was of the eggplant posing with a glass of champagne. In the next, it was sitting in its own seat with a seatbelt on. I grinned and muttered, “That could’ve been me.”
A few minutes later, a sleek little jet appeared from behind the terminal, rolling down the runway before smoothly lifting off. I kept watching it grow smaller and smaller, until it was too far away to see it anymore.
I started the engine again and sighed as I put the truck into gear. Tory was going to be home in about an hour and a half. Me? Not so much.
The drive to San Diego should have taken about eight hours. Instead, it took nine. I only stopped once to fill up the tank and grab a sandwich to go, but a three car pile-up along the way had slowed traffic on the I-5.
Even though I was exhausted, I drove to the diner instead of my apartment and got there ten minutes before closing time, which was nine p.m. on Sundays. I parked around back, same as always, and let myself in through the kitchen door.
Javier was hard at work scrubbing the grill. He looked up and exclaimed, “Hey boss, welcome back! When did you get in?”
“Just now.”
He stopped what he was doing and frowned. “You mean you haven’t been home yet?”
“I came straight to the diner, so I could close up and you could go home. I thought I’d get here sooner.”
“You must be exhausted.”
“I’m fine.”
His frown deepened. “You always say that.”
“Go home, Javi. You must be tired too, after working all weekend.”
“Yeah, okay. It’s been dead for the last two hours, so I went ahead and closed out the register,” he said, as he gave the grill a final once-over. “Everything else is shut down, too. If I hurry, the girls might still be awake, and I’ll be able to say goodnight.”
“Say hello to your family for me.” He and his wife had two adorable daughters, who were nine and ten.