“Don’t tell my daughter she’s a hot piece of ass,” Mom said, then started laughing. “You’re definitely drunk.”
Oh, God. Why was Amber’s family even more embarrassing now than when she was a teenager?
Why were they doing this in public?
“We will get you a sexy skirt,” Ah Ma said. “Or skort.”
Amber just shook her head and looked at her plate. She was losing her appetite.
Her mother and drunk grandmother talked about Amber’s love life while they finished their food. The waiter came over and asked if they wanted anything for dessert.
“I will have that,” Ah Ma pointed at the table next to them. A woman was drinking a fancy coffee beverage, topped with whipped cream and a cherry.
“I think it has booze,” Mom said, “and the last thing you need is more booze.”
“We could make booze-free coffee garnished with whipped cream,” the waiter said.
“Excellent.” Mom smiled at him. “We’ll each have one.”
“Don’t forget the cherries!” Ah Ma said. She grabbed the little umbrellas off the empty cocktail glasses and stuffed them in her purse before the waiter cleared the table.
“Why are you taking the garnish?” Amber asked.
“They are cute! Maybe I will put one in my water glass tonight.”
“You know you can buy packages of those. I bet Ah Yeh can find them on Amazon.”
“Wah, waste of money when there are two right here. Plus, I want to remember this wonderful girls’ day out. These will be a memento. For when I called you a hot piece of ass!”
“I think the coffee will sober her up,” Mom whispered to Amber.
“Maybe,” Amber said. “But you are perfectly sober and still threatening to get me clothes to help me pick up guys.”
The coffee sobered up Ah Ma a little, but she seemed particularly sensitive to the caffeine and started talking a mile a minute. She also had to go to the washroom every ten minutes and kept trying to dance, for mysterious reasons.
Thus, the group shopping trip did not go as planned. It ended after thirty minutes, which was for the best, as Mom’s and Ah Ma’s taste in clothes had almost no overlap with her Amber’s. Also, Ah Ma had insisted they go into a lingerie shop, and Amber had needed to explain how thongs worked.
Not how she’d expected to spend the afternoon.
Once her mother and grandmother were on their way back to Mosquito Bay, Amber did a little shopping on her own. She ended up buying a vest rather similar to the one she’d been wearing when she had bubble tea with Sebastian. Just because it was on sale.
Oh, and Sebastian would like it. Whenever she thought about wearing it for him, it brought a stupid grin to her face. Maybe she could wear it with nothing underneath.
Lingerie was a relationship thing to Amber, but a vest was not lingerie.
After leaving the mall, she figured she might as well make another stop while she was in London. She went to Glazed, a gourmet donut shop, and enjoyed a red velvet donut—her favorite—as she recovered from seeing her family.
As she licked the cream cheese frosting off her fingers, she thought of Sebastian again. Imagined licking frosting off his long pianist’s fingers. Wondered if he’d be free to sext later.
That evening, after a few drinks at The Tempest with her friends, Amber went home, changed into her pajamas, and took her phone to bed with her.
Hey, she texted Sebastian.
She waited. And waited.
Amber organized the top drawer of her night table—the one with the sex toys and condoms—and still her phone didn’t buzz.
She picked up her phone to check that she hadn’t set it to silent.
No, she hadn’t.
She tried not to feel disappointed.
She was about to get up to brush her teeth when her phone finally vibrated.
Sorry about earlier, he texted. I was in Ashton Corners, and a few seconds after I got your text, I ran into your dad.
Oh, dear. That sounded as painfully uncomfortable as her day.
I was out with my mom and grandmother. Mom suggested I might meet someone when I least expect it. Like at the grocery store. Ah Ma got drunk on a single piña colada and said she wanted me to look like a hot piece of ass.
You want me to help you forget about it all? he asked.
Please.
I have a question for you first. Want to come over tomorrow night? I’ll cook dinner.
Sounds like a date, she replied.
It’s not. You took me out for bubble tea and fried chicken, so I can make a meal for you, right? How’s 7?
Works for me. Amber’s hand drifted over her body, from her breasts to her thighs. Sonata. She waited for his reply, her heart thumping too fast.
Where are you? he asked.
In bed. Wearing pajamas.
I want you to lick your finger...
Oh, hell, yes. She’d been waiting for this all day.
She did as he asked and got comfortable under the covers, ready for more.
Chapter 7
Sebastian was nervous.
He shouldn’t be nervous. This wasn’t a date.
Which had made it difficult to figure out what to cook. Pasta seemed romantic, as did mussels. Fried rice wasn’t romantic, but it didn’t seem fancy enough
What was it that made pasta more romantic than fried rice? Hmm.
He had a nice chicken dish that he’d made for dates in the past, but he didn’t like the idea of making something he’d cooked for a date before, even if this was, decisively, not a date. Also, it was a little fussy. This meal should be simple, something that didn’t scream, I spent all day in the kitchen for you! But also not something that said, I just tossed any old thing into the frying pan.
In the end, he’d decided on a lentil-sausage soup. But what if she didn’t like soup?
Once, he would have thought that impossible, but his ex hadn’t liked soup of any kind, and it had driven him mad. They hadn’t been able to go out for ramen or pho.
Perhaps he should have asked Amber what she preferred.
He remembered from their
