“So people think he stole her from me?” I demanded.
“Would it bother you if they did?”
I shook my head in angry disbelief. What Smokey was suggesting was absurd, and deep down inside, I knew it. Still, I didn’t like it, mostly because of what it implied about me – that I was a terrible boyfriend in some way. It had the potential to cast me, unfairly, in a bad light.
“Okay,” I finally muttered in acquiescence. “You made your point. Even though she admits that she was being unfair, I can understand why she would feel the way she did.”
“Cool,” Smokey said, smiling. “You can thank me later for making you see reason and helping you understand women.”
“Speaking of later,” I intoned, “you’ll be on your own tonight.” I then enlightened him as to my second conversation with Electra and my upcoming dinner plans.
“Okay,” he said when I’d finished, “awkward is a mild way of putting it.”
“I could use a wingman,” I stated hopefully.
Smokey looked at me with something akin to shock. “Not on your life.”
“Fine,” I muttered in faux disgust, making him snicker. “Anyway, you need to think about what you want to do after the yacht party. I can teleport you back home when I leave for dinner, or you can hang out here and I’ll come back when we’re done.”
“To tell you the truth, I hadn’t given it much thought,” he admitted. “Things seem to happen pretty fast out here – like getting the invite from Alita. Is it okay if I just play it by ear?”
“No big deal to me,” I declared.
“By the way,” he said, “you were right about Vestibule. She’s pretty cool.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so after she hooks you up with your childhood crush Alita, she earns enough brownie points for you to reassess your opinion.”
“There’s no hooking up,” Smokey insisted. “Alita and I just had a friendly conversation and she turned out to be very personable. Plus, I still think Vestibule is somehow behind this invite.”
“So does that mean you told Atalanta about it?” I asked, grinning.
Now it was Smokey’s turn to frown, although he recovered quickly.
“If you must know,” he said after a moment, “Atalanta isn’t the jealous type. And yes, I did tell her that we were going to brunch and a yacht party.”
I gave him a sly look. “Did you tell her it was me, you, and two girls?”
“I told her you and I were going with a couple of friends,” Smokey stated.
“Sounds disingenuous,” I remarked, shaking my head. “When Atalanta finds out, she’s gonna rip your arms out of their sockets.”
“She’s welcome to try,” Smokey said, chuckling, “but you can’t tear apart smoke.”
I laughed as well at that. Smokey’s comment was a reference to his ability to become completely vaporous. We were still chortling when Vestibule called a few seconds later, saying that they were parked outside.
I told her that we’d be right down, and then we scrambled for a moment, getting together our swimming trunks and something to put them in. Ultimately, we ended up stuffing our swim gear into a small duffel bag I’d gotten during one of the earlier West Coast events I’d attended. It had originally been a gift bag, full of high-end swag. As it turned out, however, I’d mistakenly been given a goody bag meant for adults instead of one for minors, which had resulted in Avis going through it and removing various items, such as a gold-plated vaping kit, a bottle of expensive vodka, etcetera. By the time she was done, the bag was practically empty, and I’d left it in the closet until now.
Once Smokey and I were ready, I grabbed the duffel bag and teleported us to the lobby of the building, then we dashed outside.
Chapter 10
The girls picked us up in a car whose make and model I’d never seen or heard of before. It was a sleek, black convertible, with a posh interior that included hand-stitched leather, wood trim, and a million other luxury features. It was obviously a high-end vehicle and came, I was certain, with a monstrous price tag.
Wearing a gray sundress, Cat was driving, and I found myself in the front passenger seat next to her while Smokey sat in back next to Vestibule, who wore a pair of navy blue gym shorts and a white tie-front shirt.
As we pulled away from my cousin’s building, I couldn’t stop myself from turning to Cat and saying, “Nice car.”
“It’s a gift from my dad,” she explained. “My parents are divorced and he works a lot, so I don’t get to see him much. This is his way of trying to buy my love.” Then, placing the back of her hand up to her mouth, she leaned towards me and whispered conspiratorially, “It’s working.”
I laughed, as did Smokey and Vestibule, who had apparently overheard us speaking. I really enjoyed Cat’s sense of humor, and was suddenly glad that she had invited us to brunch.
“So, is this like an exclusive model?” Smokey asked.
Cat nodded. “Yeah. It’s European – from a special division within one of the big car manufacturers over there. They only make about a dozen or so every year, so it’s rare.”
Smokey was obviously impressed. “And it’s your car?”
“Yeah,” Cat replied over her shoulder, “but it’s just a car. I’d take time with my dad over this any day of the week.” Then she seemed to reconsider and added, “Well, maybe not the weekend…”
We all laughed again.
***
The drive to Cat’s house was fun. With the sun shining brightly and the top down on the convertible, the feel of the wind on my face was almost like flying. As natives of the West Coast, Cat and Vestibule were astute enough to be wearing sunglasses, but Smokey and I had failed
