When he got up, she put a restraining hand on his arm. “Drop me at my car and I’ll follow you,” she said.
He leaned close to her ear, taking in the smell of her hair and the light scent of lilac coming off her skin. “You just want to be in control.”
She seemed to shiver at the touch of his breath. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
He stood up and held her chair. “Where are you parked?”
“Around the corner.”
“Me too. I’ll walk you out the side door. That way you won’t have to parade past these yahoos. They’ve been staring at you.”
He took her arm lightly, shielding her from view.
“Where are you taking me?”
“I’m not telling you. This is an experiment in trust.”
“Why would I trust you?”
“You already do. Evil as I am, I’ve got an honest face.”
“You’re not evil, are you?”
“Not entirely. Then again, I’m not entirely honest.”
He saw her to her car, a snappy teal blue Thunderbird in mint condition. Somehow it pleased him. He was parked three cars behind her. He turned the key in the ignition and pulled out. She waited until he’d passed before she pulled out behind him. He led her down surface streets, watching her in his rearview mirror. She kept pace with him. As he drove through each stoplight, he was careful she made it through the intersection as well.
When he reached the 101, he took the southbound on-ramp and continued for a mile. He got off at Paloma Lane, which ran parallel to the freeway on a wide stretch of land that bordered the Pacific Ocean. The railroad had co-opted the right of way some years before, but aside from the thundering of the trains passing twice a day, this was prime real estate. Most houses couldn’t be seen from the road, which meant that privacy was guaranteed. The mix of evergreens and eucalyptus cut the sunlight into patches.
He slowed and activated an automated gate of weathered wood. The houses on either side of the property were hidden behind eugenia hedges some thirty feet high. He turned into the driveway and followed it around to the left until it widened to a motor court sufficient for six cars. He parked and got out. He waited until she’d pulled in behind him and parked and then he opened her car door. He offered her a hand and helped her out.
“This is your house?” she asked.
“A weekend place. No one knows it’s mine.”
As they walked toward the front door, he took out a set of keys. The exterior of the house was board-and- batten, painted yellow, the windows shuttered in white. The roof was standing-seam metal with a low pitch that suggested the architecture of the tropics-Key West or Jamaica. Palms were grouped in the small yard, which was half sand, half grass. The front door swung back and she stepped into the small foyer, pausing to take in the space.
The front wall of the living room was floor-to-ceiling windows. Just outside there was a wide wooden deck enclosed by a board-and-batten barrier wall, waist high, topped with darkly tinted glass panels, which kept the ocean visible while anyone standing on the deck was screened from view. She walked as far as the glass and looked out. The air was fully saturated with the scent of ocean, and Dante watched her close her eyes and inhale.
“You like it?”
She smiled at him. “It’s perfect. I love the ocean. I’m a water baby. Pisces.”
“Me too. Only I’m Scorpio.”
“How long have you had the place?”
“Three days.”
“You bought it this week?”
“Lease-purchase agreement. You’re my first guest.”
“I’m flattered.”
“You want to look around? I can give you the tour.”
“I’d like that.”
The two moved from room to room. His commentary was minimal because the house was small and the spatial designations were self-evident. Kitchen, big master bedroom, one guest room, two baths, living room with a dining area at one end. The place was furnished right down to the bed linens.
She said, “I like buying on impulse. It’s fun. I confess I can’t imagine doing it on such a scale.”
“It was a good deal all around. The guy owns the house owes me money so he’s paying off a debt. I called and told him I wanted it and he was happy to oblige. The fifteen thousand a month includes the vig. We close in thirty-six months. A bargain from his perspective.”
Nora seemed taken aback. “How much did he
“A lot. I offered him a discount to sweeten the deal.”
“Why would someone have to borrow that much?”
“Cost of living’s up. The market’s down. The guy’s well known in town and he has a front to maintain. His wife has no idea how far in the hole he is.”
“Don’t they use the house?”
“Not anymore. He told her he sold it.”
“Just like that?”
“Sure.”
“And her name wasn’t on the deed?”
“Her name’s not on anything. He’s like Channing in that respect.”
She hesitated, perhaps reluctant to pursue the point, but curiosity got the better of her. “Meaning what?”
“I’m guessing the Malibu house is in his name.”
“He owned it before we met.”
“So when you married him he declared it his sole and separate property.”
“Of course. I have separate property as well. We’ve both been married before so it’s only right.”
“What about the house up here? Your name on the title?”
“Well, no, but he said it was for tax reasons. I can’t remember now how he explained it.”
“How many times was he divorced before you married him?” Nora held up two fingers.
“Bet he got taken both times, yes?”
“According to him.”
“That’s why your name’s not on the title. Because he’s screwing you in advance.”
“Stop that. This is a community-property state. If we divorce, I get half of everything regardless.”
“Nora, he’s an
“I don’t think we should be discussing this. It’s inappropriate.”
“‘Inappropriate.’ Well, that’s one way to look at it. You want my take? You’re a beautiful woman. You’re in trouble and you know it. I can see it in your face. The way I read you, there’s a reckless streak in you a mile wide. You used to be a wild child and you did as you pleased.”
“I thought that’s what being young was about.”
“My point exactly. This is how we get old. Thinking too much about things we used to do without any thought at all.”
“Please don’t go on with this.”
“Why not?”
“I shouldn’t have come here. I made a mistake.”
“We’re having a conversation. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“You know better.”
“Yes, I do. I wasn’t sure you did. That’s the problem with choices. Eventually you have to decide. Maybe not right this minute, but soon,” he said.
“What about you? What do
