Sweet Little Lies (16 page)

S
teven’s loft was located in SoMa (South of Market) near downtown San Francisco in a beautiful new high-rise. The space was a reflection of him—a little urban, a little uptown, cultured but quirky, and very easy on the eyes. He favored shades of gray and green with silver and red mixed in as ac-cents. The floors and countertops where poured concrete and there was an entire wall of windows with incredible views of the Bay Bridge and AT&T Park.

He came toward the door, rolling a small suitcase with his laptop case on his arm. We were on our way to the Napa Valley region for a miniature vacation. We had rented an estate between St. Helena and Calistoga for four days.

“The laptop, really? I thought this was a no-work weekend?”

“I won’t work. I may just surf the Net. Update my Face-book, tweet something.”

“Do you tweet?” I asked, wondering why I just now knew this.

“Sporadically. Do you?” he answered as he ushered me out to the hallway and into the elevator.

“Someone at the station opened an account for me, but I haven’t done anything with it. Do you have followers?”

“Of course, I’m a popular guy.” He opened the trunk of his Land Rover.“Need to do anything before we hit the road?”

“I don’t think so.”

He helped me into the passenger seat, shut the door behind me, and slid behind the steering wheel. “All right then, you ready to go?”

“I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I’m good. Let’s go.”

“Uh—huh.” He flipped on the radio and we rode in silence through the city, over the Golden Gate Bridge and down the 101 for a few miles.

“I seriously doubt that this is a good idea,” I finally said as Steven slowed to get on the exchange to Highway 37 toward Vallejo.

“When was the last time you took a long weekend? Just got away?” Steven asked patiently.

I thought about it. And thought some more. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d even taken a day off, to be honest.

“I’m waiting,” he said.

“Okay, so maybe I could use a little downtime, but the story is just heating up and this whole couples thing isn’t setting well with me.”

Steven was wearing dark sunglasses, but I could sense the eye-roll behind them. “Clarke and Carey, that’s your brother and one of your best friends. Stefani and Marcus, my sister and her husband.What’s the problem?”

“Your sister hates me.”

“Hate is such a strong word.”

“What would you call it?”

“You’re not her favorite person, but she’s warming up. She was nicer to you when we swung by the other day.”

“She kept a permanent, laser-beam side-eye on me all day long. Not relaxing. That could make for a long weekend.”

“I’m sure she’ll be on her best behavior. Who could stay stressed in Wine Country for the weekend? C’mon now. Let’s not anticipate drama.We’re here to chill. Drink a little wine. Relax, relate, release.”

“If you say ‘woo-sah,’ I swear to God you can take me home now.”

“Woman, what is your general problem now?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know. This is a whole lot of serious relationship-type vibe.”

“I get that you don’t trust men, they’ve let you down, yada yada, but what does that have to do with me wanting to have a decent weekend?”

“I just don’t want us getting too comfortable.” In other words, I didn’t want to get used to having him around since he was going to walk sooner or later.

“Fine.We’re just two people who happen to hang out together and see each other naked regularly, changing locales for the next few days. How’s that?”

“Don’t mock me. I know it sounds crazy, but I have to look out for me for the long run.”

“Is that why all your interactions for the past few years have been hit-n-quit? You’re looking out for you?”

I wouldn’t have put it that way.“Let’s just say I keep things light.”

“Well, who asked for heavy? You’re the one putting a label on things.”

“You don’t think going away together with this group is setting expectations?”

“For who?”

“For you, for me? I just don’t want us to get ahead of ourselves.”

Steven shot me a look and at the next exit got off the highway. He pulled into a parking lot and turned off the engine. He took off his sunglasses and tossed them on the dashboard. “Why did you agree to come if you don’t want to be here?”

“Who said I don’t want to be here?”

“You’ve been half-assed salty and borderline pissy since we got up this morning.”

“No, I haven’t!”

“You kind of have been. It’s rude.”

“Rude?”

He set his jaw. “Could you pretend that this will be fun? Must I talk you into everything?”

“You don’t have to talk me into everything. I just want us to level-set our goals for the weekend.”

He started the car and pulled out in the lane to go back towards San Francisco.

“Where are you going?”

“Not to Napa. Not with you. Not like this. No, thank you.” Steven was mad. Like angrier than I’d ever seen him. It was something to see, and tough to be on the receiving end of. He looked like he wished he could kick me out on the side of the road.

I sighed. Of the two of us, I wasn’t sure who was more dra-matic.“What are you talking about?”

“I’m not up for whatever phobic bullshit you’re on today. I just want to have a nice weekend with a nice lady. Spend time with some friends and family. Go out to eat, make conversation, drink too much, have a little sex, tour a few wineries. No drama. I have no energy to coax somebody into having a good time with me. I don’t want to freaking ‘level-set’ goals. If you’re not feeling it, I can drop you off and find someone not scared shitless to enjoy a simple weekend.”

“Well, damn, am I that replaceable?” Did he seriously just say he was going to drop me off and pick up someone else?

“C’mon now, I’m into you. You know you’re my first choice, but please believe I am not without options.”

“Uh, wow.” I was stunned. Looking over at him, I realized he was dead serious.“What if I prefer to stay?”

“I guess that depends on you.”

“I see. So either I get with the program or I’m out?”

“There’s not a program, there’s no grand conspiracy theory …it’s a weekend away. I’m already weary of propping you up today.What’s it gonna be? You in or out?”

“Grown Man Steven, damn! I would like to go with you, thank you very much.” Sheesh, he was not playing. All line in the sand, putting down of the foot—it was a little harsh.

He got off at the next exit and made the U-turn to head back north. He didn’t say a word.

“So, dramatic much?”

“High-maintenance much?” he shot back.

“Do you even wonder why we’re together?”

“Are we together? I thought that was a scary word never to be applied to the two of us,” he said with considerable snark in his tone.

I threw up my hands.“Okay, you’ve made your point. I’m all supercautious and it’s making you nuts. I get it. I’m working on it. But can you answer the question?”

“Why are we together?” He shrugged.“One word. Chemistry.”

“Is that all?”

“Isn’t that enough for now? You’re the one not wanting to define things, putting too fine of a point on the pencil.”

He was really not feeling me today.“Ya mad, huh?”

“Christina, you wear a brother out. I was looking forward to a nice little time and you just had to make it into a thing. It shouldn’t have to be this hard.”

He was right.“I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

He raised a brow.“Will you now? How are you planning to do that?”

“I might not have been sure about this getaway, but I came prepared. I brought a little sumthin’ sumthin’ to model later on tonight, if you’re up to it.”

“Oh, I can rise to the occasion if you’re gonna make it worth my while.”

“But Steven?”

“Um-hmm?”

“Don’t ever mention picking up some random chick as a substitute to me again. I’m a handful, not a doormat.”

“Two handfuls.”

“Still…”

“Understood.”

“Are we going to stop at Domaine Chandon on the way to the house?”

“We can.Why?”

“My making it up to you involves two bottles of their rosé sparkling wine.”

“Two?”

“One to sip out of glasses, the other to sip off of body parts.”

“Oh, you
do
plan on making it up to me. Let’s get there, then.”

I slid my sunglasses on and smiled.“I may be two handfuls but they’re full of good stuff, no?”

“For the most part, Ti-Ti. For the most part.”

C
hristina, in one of her mercurial personality flip-flops, was back to being happy and pleasant by the time we pulled up to the vacation cottage. Our detour to the Chandon winery had put us behind schedule, but it was worth it to have her mood as bubbly as the liquid we just picked up.

The house was beautiful. It rested on four acres of premium land; the house was Tuscan in style with a stone archway to the front drive. I saw that Marcus’s and Clarke’s cars were already there, which meant Christina and I were the last to arrive.

I pulled in behind Clarke’s Mercedes SUV and Christina hopped out of the car. Flashing me a smile, she grabbed the box of sparkling wine and dashed for the door. I guessed that left me to bring in the bags. Grumbling under my breath about finding an easier woman to have around, I popped open the trunk.

“Plotting to off my sister somewhere in the vineyard?” Clarke asked as he walked out to join me.

“Man, I almost left her by the side of the road in Marin. It was a near thing.”

Clarke snickered.“I can’t even say I would blame you. She’s not for the faint of heart. But she’s worth it.”

Whatever,
I thought to myself, deciding not to share that portion of my thoughts. Instead I said, “The harder to attain, the more worth it in the end, right?”

“That’s what they say,” he agreed. “Then again, there’s something to be said for it all being so easy, you know it’s right.”

I wouldn’t know anything about that, so I just nodded as he grabbed Christina’s bag. We headed into the house. It was as advertised, lushly decorated with amazing views of the vineyard out back and hills beyond. State-of-the-art kitchen, huge living room with a pass-through fireplace—the house gave a warm and homey impression. Downstairs was a huge great room with one wall dedicated to a built-in wine rack. The opposite wall contained a massive flat-screen television, game console, DVD, and stereo system. I set my bag down inside the door.

“We have a problem,” Christina said from the kitchen.

“Oh?”

Stefani came over and gave me a big hug. “Three bedrooms, two with king-size beds and one with twins. You single folk need to figure out who gets the twin.”

I looked over at Marcus.“Why you married folks claiming the grown and sexy bed?”

Marcus and I exchanged the fist bump as he answered,“We are the only couple sanctioned by God to sleep together, heathen.”

Carey whistled. “Oh, ouch, the brother-in-law played the morality card. That stings.”

Christina said,“Since you’re all wounded, you and Clarke can take the twin beds.”

Clarke piped up,“I don’t think so, sis. You and Pretty Boy over here just as sinful as Carey and I.”

“Hold up.” I asked,“Did you just call me Pretty Boy?”

Stefani laughed.“He is easy on the eyes, isn’t he?”

Marcus shook his head.“Modest much? You look just like him!”

“So then the pretty people get the big beds, is that what we’re saying?” Christina added.

Carey was pulling deli containers out of the fridge,“Okay, now I’m personally offended and the answer would be no.”

Clarke walked over to her and kissed her on the forehead. “Aw, baby, you’re pretty, too.”

I put my hands up. “Enough! Everybody’s pretty, but there’s only one way to solve this.”

“Hand-to-hand combat?” Marcus asked.

“Arm wrestling?” Christina offered.

“Short straw loses?” Clarke added.

I reached in my laptop case and drew out a disk. “Trivial Pursuit 90’s Edition. Who wants some?”

“Yes!” Carey called out.“Prepare to go down, people. Win-ner picks their room, next highest score gets next pick, losers rock the twin beds. Let’s eat and then let’s rumble.”

“Bring it on, Berkeley,” Stefani said, pulling plates out of the cabinet.

“Did your sister just knock my alma mater?” Christina asked, looking around in drawers and cabinets until she found the silverware and place mats.

“She might have, a little bit. She’s a Northwestern girl.” I teased my sister.

“You know how those Chicago girls are,” Marcus said as he helped to set the table.

“Who ordered the food?” Clarke asked, selecting a bottle of wine and grabbing some glasses.

I raised a hand, picked up a bowl of fruit salad, and headed
over to set it on the table.“You might want to pull out a second bottle. I thought we’d appreciate a little ready-made something when we got here.”

“Speaking of which,” Carey said, bringing a platter of ro-tisserie chicken and roasted veggies to the table, “what took you two so long to get here? I thought you left the city before Clarke and me.”

Christina and I exchanged a glance and didn’t answer. I shrugged.

Stefani looked from me to Christina and back again. “Please tell me you two did not pull over for some side-of-the-road slap ’n’ tickle?”

“Ugh, I don’t need the mental imagery—thank you!” Clarke protested and opened the first bottle of wine.

Marcus said, “Seriously though, we can wait if you two want to shower.”

“We’re good,” I said and held out a chair for Christina. Everyone started taking seats around the table.

Carey scooped some salad onto her plate.“Are you two seriously not going to tell us what happened?”

“Steven tried to boot me out the car,” Christina said with a pout.

I shot her a look.“Technically, I never tried to put you out the car. I invited you to take your moody ass home.”

“You told me to get right or you would replace me with some random chick who kisses your ass!”

“Steven for the win!” Clarke said.

Christina stuck her tongue out.“Hey, brother—thanks for the backup.”

“Damn, Grown Man Steven does not play,” Carey said.

“Who is Grown Man Steven?” Stefani asked.

“Long story,” I supplied before addressing Christina.“I said it was up to you. We could either kick off this weekend the right way or not at all.”

“I agreed, didn’t I? I said I was sorry and everything.”

“You brought it up, woman. I was content to let them think we were getting freaky in the backseat.”

“Ooo-kay,” Clarke said with a laugh. “You two win, you get the bed. I think you need it.”

Marcus said,“Jeez, put them in the room all the way at the back. I have no desire to hear the angry make-up sex.”

“Ugh, my brother we’re discussing!” Stefani frowned.

“Still beating y’all down in Trivial Pursuit, though … recognize that,” Carey said.

Christina and I exchanged another loaded look.“Can you pass the chicken, please?” I asked her.

“Certainly. Leg or breast?” She smirked at me.

I smirked right back.“Both, if you don’t mind.”

“I do not mind at all.”

“Dear God, pass me the wine,” Stefani said.“This weekend is going to be TMI all the way around.”

“I don’t know,” Christina said with a twinkle in her eye. “This weekend might be just what we needed.”

I sent her a smile. Finally! She was seeing things my way. Let’s see how long this lasted.