Chapter Four
The bed was cold.
I sat up and found myself alone. A quick check of the clock showed it to be seven in the morning, and from the lack of warmth in the sheets, Frisco was long gone.
God, what the hell was I thinking?I scrubbed my face, and wide-awake, decided nothing would be accomplished by lying in bed with the lingering scent of his expensive cologne. I stretched, cursed my stupidity, and headed to the bathroom to shower.
Fully dressed except for socks, I puttered around the kitchen, deciding to bake some brownies and take them upstairs. If I knew my family, Mike would have already told my mother I’d left the restaurant with someone, and she would be waiting until a decent hour to come by and quiz me. If I showed up first, I would get to direct the narrative. After all, no one had to know he’d come home with me.
I mixed the batter, and then while they baked, made my coffee. I was pouring myself a cup when my phone buzzed and Mike’s number flashed up. Nothing like an eight a.m. call from your brother trying to ferret out intel.
“Yeah?”
“Good, you’re awake. I wouldn’t want to think I was interrupting.” He paused and waited, but when I didn’t take the bait, he rolled right on. “Am I? Interrupting, I mean. Do you have someone there with you? Mr. Tall, Dark, and Expensive?”
“Subtle, Mikey. No, I’m here by myself.”
“Oh.” He sounded crushed.
“Dude, relax. We had a drink, and that was it. Nothing big.”
“Oh, yeah? Is that what you’re calling it?” He snickered, and I narrowed my eyes.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing. Talk to you later.”
I opened my mouth to question him further, but he’d disconnected the call. Bastard. The oven dinged, and I pulled out the brownies and set them on a rack to cool. I finished my coffee, had another cup, and put on my socks and sneakers.
The brownies were still a bit warm, but I cut them into squares, put them on a plate, and left my apartment. Sunlight streamed down from a cloudless, bright-blue sky. Frisco’s eyes were that same rich blue, I mused, then forced my thoughts away from a man I’d never see again. The air smelled fresh and cool, and I drew in a deep breath, taking a second to listen to the birds twittering overhead in the large oak tree. I took the stairs to the house two at a time and rang the bell. It took only a moment for her to open the door.
“Morning, Mom.” I kissed her cheek and breezed past her. “I made brownies with big chocolate chunks. Just how you like them.”
Dressed in slim-fitting jeans and a green sweater, my mother barely looked fifty, never mind over sixty. Wavy dark hair fell to her shoulders, and her wide brown eyes gazed back at me from behind stylish, dark-framed glasses. “Oh, thank you.” She took the plate from me. “Let’s have them in the kitchen. I have coffee or milk if you’d like.”
It would be nice if all problems could be solved simply by sitting in our parents’ kitchen, eating brownies and drinking milk. I took a seat at the big oak table and accepted the coffee, even though I had no desire to drink a third cup.
“What’s new?” Knowing, dark eyes fixed on my face, and I was proud I didn’t crack.
“Nothing. I’m sure Mike or Val told you I went out last night with one of the customers from the restaurant. It was nothing big, just a drink, but I figured you might as well hear it from me and ask whatever questions you want, though you should know it’s not going to lead anywhere.”
“I see. So you had a drink with him? And that’s it? You’re done?” She nibbled on the edge of a brownie.
“We didn’t seem to have much in common, but I’m glad I took the chance. It makes me feel better about myself.” There. That should satisfy her, and she could tell everyone else.
“So, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure, what?” I stretched out my legs and took a bite of a brownie square.
“Who was the man I met coming out of your apartment at around six this morning?”
I choked. “What?” What else could I say as I frantically searched for the right words and came up empty?
From the twinkle in my mother’s eye, she was enjoying herself way too much, and not for the first time, I thought it might be time to move.
“I was watering the geraniums in the window box when he opened your front door and walked up the stairs. He startled me and I dropped the can. The water splashed all over, but luckily, I missed him.”
I couldn’t keep my lips from twitching, imagining the elegant Frisco in his expensive clothes, jumping out of the way of my mother’s green plastic watering can shaped like a big tulip.
