“And what is it your father does?”
“Inheritance, property, and investment. My family’s fortune was amassed over many years. My father will gladly tell you all about it.”
“Back tohow I met your daughter, Mrs. and Mr. Weston. You were still living in Pomona when we met, and I own the best cocktail bar there—Mixer—so I say we met there.”
“Plausible. I go out with my friends every Friday, thoughI’ve never been to theMixer.”
“Now you have.” We keep the story going until we have a solid timeline of events.
Once that’s done, it’s getting chilly, so we clear the table and move into the living room. Addie immediately snatches a blanket from the back of the couch, making herself at home and... fuck. It feels good that she’s this comfortable around me.
As if we’ve really been dating for months.
As if she’s mine.
I squeeze the back of my neck, gouging my fingers hard into the flesh as I marshal my idiotic thoughts.
For the next hour, we breeze through first-date bullshit things Cody considers essential like favorite color, song, movie, and book before we get to the more interesting stuff. I wish I could say I won’t remember that Addie loves jazz, that “Colors” by Black Pumas is her favorite song or that white’s her favorite color, but I will.
I drink every fucking word falling from her lips.
“You said you lived on campus in Pomona,” I say, emptying the last of the wine bottle into her glass. “What are you studying? and why Pomona of all places?”
She’s in the corner of the huge couch, legs covered with the blanket, knees to her chest, feet an inch from my thigh.
“Veterinary medicine, and Pomona because it’s not that easy getting into a vet school. I wanted to be a long way from my mother, but with easy access to the beach and not anywhere cold. My parents have a permanent home in Miami and hardly ever venture to California. My mother says it’s too crowded with celebrities, so naturally, that was my first choice.”
“But why a vet?”
Addie shrugs nonchalantly. “Mostly because I love animals and a little bit to spite my mother. When I told her I wanted a degree, she assumed I’d study something that aligns with my father’s work. You know, something that’d make me useful until, and I quote, I’d ‘see reason and get married’.”
I chuckle, imagining the reaction her mother must’ve had. “Your mom sounds lovely. I can’t wait to meet her.”
“You should’ve seen her face when I told her I was going to be a veterinarian, and when she saw Emmanuel on FaceTime after I moved to Newport... priceless.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And Emmanuel is...?”
“My pet pig,” she says matter-of-factly.
I nearly spit out my beer, coughing and sputtering as I regain my composure. Addie doesn’t miss a beat, whacking my back, her eyes sparkling with laughter.
“Pet pig? You have a petpig?”
“Not anymore, unfortunately. I volunteer at a veterinary clinic, and sometimes, people abandon injured animals there in the middle of the night to get out of paying the bill. Emmanuel was left on the doorstep my first day there. He was only a week old with a broken leg. The clinic couldn’t care for a pig long-term, so I took him in.”
Curiosity piqued, I scoot closer when she pats the space beside her, flicking through pictures on her phone until she finds what she wants to show me. Sure enough, there’s Addie, reading a book on a couch, while a tiny baby pig snoozes in the crook of her neck.
“He won’t grow to standard pig size because he’s a miniature, but he won’t stay this small for long. With the engagement cruise coming up, I had to find suitable forever homes for most of my pets. Emmanuel’s living on a farm in Oregon.”
“How many pets have you had?”
“Thirteen.” She grins, still flicking through pictures. There isn’t one without an animal of some sort in her hands or at her feet. “Down to five now. Two parrots, a tarantula, and two hamsters. My best friend, Ruby, will take care of them while I’m gone.”
“And I thought Cody’s python was unusual.”
“Lots of people keep snakes,” she says, angling her phone. “I miss this guy most.” She plays a clip of a peculiar-looking bird jumping around her kitchen. It’s big but still looks like a baby. “That’s Jasper. He’s an Emu.”
“Of course he is.”
