Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Ivy
"What did Daniel say?" Romeo jumps in before I have a chance to remember our story.
"Do you always speak for your girlfriend?" Amara asks. "Give her a chance, huh?"
"What did Daniel say?" I repeat the question. "I'm curious."
"You know Daniel." Amara throws her arms in the air as she shakes her head.
The gesture of an old friend. As if we've both known her other son a long, long time.
"He assumes you met the way you meet most girlfriends.
" She doesn't quite say he assumes you roped some poor one-night-stand into pretending she's your girlfriend, but she comes close.
Perceptive of him, really.
Our work is cut out for us.
I need to bring my A-game if I want to keep this ruse going long enough to aid both our businesses.
"We did meet that way," I say. Is this our story?
Or did we come up with a different one? My head is too full.
I'm too bad at lying. But I know it's best to stick with the truth, so I shrug and lean into this particular part of the truth.
"I won't lie." Too much. "We tried to come up with a better cover story. I was going to say a friend hired Romeo to help expand her business and work on the financial side. She’s another therapist. Who runs a podcast." All so close to the truth, yet so far.
"But that's not true. We met at a bar. I was celebrating my divorce, with a friend, and he was with a friend of his. What was his name?"
"Alex," Romeo says. "You remember him? From school? He came to Thanksgiving once."
Amara nods. "The blond with the rich parents? What is he doing now?"
"He got a promotion," Romeo says. "That's why we were out. He's going to ask out a friend of his. He wanted my advice on creating a romantic atmosphere on a date."
"Romantic, huh?" Amara laughs in a knowing way. Since it's a certain kind of romance.
How much of this is true, I wonder?
"Then he saw Ivy's friend," Romeo says. "And he forgot all about his. What is wrong with men, huh?"
"Isn't your girlfriend telling the story?" Amara asks.
"I didn't know that part," I play along. "I thought you wanted to talk to me."
"I didn't mind," Romeo says. "A beautiful woman who looked like a professor. Look at those eyes. And those hips. But I was doing him a favor."
"We started talking." I try to play off him, like one of those couples who's madly in love.
How do they look anyway? I imagine actors on a TV show.
I move a little closer to Romeo. I try to smile in a shy way, as if I'm embarrassed by how much I like him, but I don't get there.
So, I remember the way it really felt to meet him.
How much I wanted him right away. How nervous I was.
"I liked him immediately. He's charming.
And handsome. His friend asked why we were there, and when I told him, well… I guess one thing led to another."
"And she only called me back because she left something at my place," Romeo says.
This time, I do blush. Because I wouldn't have called him back.
Because I like the image of him pursuing me.
"He convinced me to go on a second date.
He said, at any point, I could leave, and he wouldn't question it.
But he thought I'd want more if I got more.
And, well, I did. I guess it's that simple. "
"When was that?" she asks.
"Three months ago," I say before he can answer. "I got divorced a year ago… well, the process started about a year ago. It was finalized more recently. My friend and I were celebrating what would have been my wedding anniversary."
"Divorce," Amara says. "You didn't mention that, Romeo."
Romeo's eyes fill with surprise. He doesn't try to hide it. "What does that matter?"
"It doesn't." She says something to him in Italian.
He replies in kind.
She smiles at me, not at all selling her lack of concern.
"It is a tragedy, isn't it, when a marriage ends?
" She looks to the gold band on her left hand.
"Technically, mine is over now. Until death.
Daniel says I need to take this off one day.
Move on. Date again. But… I'm sorry to interrupt your story.
" She shakes her head. "But I should tell you now, before your brother gets here. I don't want to overshadow his day."
Huh?
"I'm leaving," she says.
"What?" Romeo asks.
"Going home," she says. "Selling the house and retiring to a villa in Italy. The extra money will go to you and your brother. As wedding presents." She looks to me. "When the time comes."
His eyes fill with surprise, but he shakes it off quickly. “When were you going to tell me?”
“I’m telling you now,” she says, with finality. “I’ll miss you too, but it’s good news. I’ll be home. You’ll visit. And you’ll have the money you’ve always dreamed of. To really start a life with someone when the time comes.”
"Or start the business," he says.
"Caro mio, why always on the business? It's a childhood dream. Not all of those need to be fulfilled," she says.
A fire fills his eyes, but he doesn't object. "I can show you the business plan. It's all—"
"You know it's all Greek to me. But maybe… maybe I'll put the money in a trust early, and you can use it for whatever business you want. If the wedding goes well," she says.
Maybe, she'll give him his inheritance early, if I sell this ruse all week.
So, it's not just his business with his brother. Or his brother's wedding. Or his family's respect.
It's half the profits from selling this enormous house, too.
Well, this enormous house minus a villa in Italy. But that's got to be a big number.
Fuck.
So much is riding on us, on me.
I'm not sure I can do this.
I take another sip of limoncello. Then another. Then the drink is gone. "Would it be terrible to ask for another?"
Amara smiles, back to full throated charm. "So American to want a second helping of dessert." She looks to Romeo. "Latin American and U.S. American." She motions for him to fetch a second round.
He does.
Which leaves us alone in the big, empty room.
"This is a beautiful house," I say.
"Is that really how you met?" she asks. "At this divorce party?"
I nod.
"Did he feed you one of those ridiculous lines?
" she asks. "You know he hit on one of my friends that way.
Not quite my age, thank goodness, though it's not quite as unusual where I come from.
Women don't disappear the day they turn forty the way they do here.
Still…" She shakes her head, lost in her own world.
"It's not what you want to hear from your friend.
'I think your son tried to get me into bed. '"
Was he trolling for clients? Or maybe that's what he does in his free time. Maybe he likes older women.
It's really none of my business.
"I think it was line," I admit. "But it didn't sound ridiculous. But then, again, he's very handsome, so I'm not sure how much I was listening."
She laughs. "He takes after his father, yes."
Romeo returns with the bottle of limoncello. He tops off their glasses and refills mine.
"Your girlfriend was telling me what a ridiculous line you used to get her into bed," Amara says.
"Really? Is, 'baby, are you a WiFi signal, because I'm feeling a strong connection' a bad line now?" He teases her.
She mutters something in Italian. "You're lucky you look like your father."
"He looks like you too," I say.
"His father's height though," she says. "Thank goodness. Women are obsessed with tall men here."
"Mama, how can you talk? Dad was six-foot two," Romeo says.
She takes a long sip. "So, you flirted, propped up by your father's good looks. And obviously Ivy is a striking woman with a lovely figure."
My blush deepens. I guess flattery runs in the family.
"Romeo's type too," Amara says. "Tall. And unconventional."
Romeo raises a brow. "What in the world does that mean?"
"You like girls with unusual jobs. Like that Russian girl. What did she do… work for a sex toy company or something?" she asks.
"Sasha?" he asks. "We're just friends."
She waves her hand of course not. "She's pretty. And smart too. But he was foolish. Didn't want to settle down."
He shakes his head can you believe this?
"Marriage can be hard. You know that, Ivy.
You know how painful it is to divorce, even when it is time.
But when you find someone that fits…" She looks to the wall, were a painting of her and her husband is hanging.
He really does look like Romeo. A little taller, a little darker, a little more serious.
"No one thought we made sense as a couple, but we knew it was love.
And that's what mattered. That we both wanted to be in love.
To stay dedicated to each other. If you marry a good man, and you both stay dedicated to making it work, you will have a happy marriage.
" She finishes her drink and stands. "Now, Romeo, grab your bags and let me show Ivy to her room.
I'm sorry. Part of the pre-wedding festivities.
Daniel can't see the bride right before the wedding, so that means separate rooms for everyone. "
Surprise spreads over Romeo's face. This is news to him. "I have to suffer because Daniel suffers?"
She says something to him in Italian.
He replies in kind.
I don't catch much of it. Finally, she waves her hand. "If things go well tomorrow, I'll talk to him. Okay, Romeo?"
Romeo nods, okay.
Upset because his brother is dictating our sleeping arrangements?
Or because he really wants to be in that room with me?
After all, if we don't have all night to learn, he can't really pay me back for my share of the, uh, experience.
But it might be fun, sneaking to his room, trying to stay quiet. It might explain why we're acting secretive too.
All in all, it's a good thing for us.
I think.
Probably.
I take my last sip. Amara motions for me to leave my drink on the table, then says, "follow me, Ivy."
She takes me back through the living room, up the angular stairs, past the overlook, all the way to a room at the end of the hall.
"I reserved the best space for you," she says as she opens the door. "It's not the biggest, but it has a view of the ocean."
She's right. The view is beautiful. The dark sky bleeds into the deep blue ocean. From here, on the hill, the city of Laguna Beach looks quiet. The rows of houses are peaceful. Serene.
I suppose they are in the day, too. This is a calm place. In a certain sort of way.
"I am looking forward to getting to know you," she says. "To see if you're a good fit for my son."
"Of course."
"I have to admit, your divorce… it gives me pause." She holds her hand over her heart. "Can you tell me what happened?"
"What happened that led to my divorce?" I ask.
She nods, yes. "Was it him? Did he cheat? Or did you fall out of love?"
Downstairs, the front door opens. It must be Romeo with the suitcases.
Amara bites her lip as she looks to me. "It's nothing personal. I just… I want him to be with someone who takes her commitments seriously. And you seem like that person. But…"
But I have a scarlet D on my forehead.
"So, tell me, woman to woman. What happened? Why is it you're available now?"