A Bad Boy is Good to Find - By Jennifer Lewis Page 0,32
lucky thing the house was close to the train. “The only problem is how we’re going to eat until we get there. My credit cards are maxed out. That’s why I had to come back to the ancestral homestead. Think you can catch a deer and skin it?”
Con chuckled, treading water in the deep end. “I’ll think of something.”
He went out to get dinner, wet hair slicked back, the top down on his gold convertible. He returned nearly three hours later with two large pizzas on the front seat of an elderly Corvette with a loud engine rattle.
“What on earth…?”
“Ham and Mushroom still your favorite?”
“Sure, but where’s your car?”
“Right here.” He gestured to the Corvette, dingy black with white scrape marks on the rear wing.
“Where’s your Mercedes?”
“Sold it.”
Her gut tightened. “Why?”
“Money, of course. Lemonade okay?”
“Sure. But you loved that car.” Why was she feeling guilty? That car was a gift from his ex. Payment for services rendered. “It’s your pride and joy.”
“Times have changed.”
He slammed the door and scrutinized the Corvette for a moment. Nodded thoughtfully. “Wanna eat outside? This breeze is nice. We could eat by the pool.”
“Uh, sure.” She still couldn’t believe he’d sold his car. And for this scratched-up piece of junk? Why did that make her feel uncomfortable all over?
“How much did you get for your Mercedes?”
“A lot.” He plunked down on the grass and offered her a slice of pizza. “More than it’s worth.”
“Who bought it?”
“A guy who admired it. There’s a lot of money rolling around this town. I’d be a fool not to take advantage.” He took a big bite of pizza.
“Well, you certainly know how to do that.” she snapped, tense.
He shrugged and took another bite.
“So where did you buy this thing?”
“Saw it in a driveway with a for sale sign when I was on my way to the store. It called out to me.”
“What was it calling you—Sucker?”
Why did she have to keep sniping? She took a sip of lemonade. Bitter, like her.
“It’s a Corvette.”
“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”
“Nah. You’re a girl. Trust me, it’s an investment.” He took another bite of pizza. Chewed it. “It’s really nice here.”
The setting sun pierced the trees with long shards of harsh light that bounced off all the windows. An unpleasant reminder of her last visit. “Appearances can be deceptive.”
“I wouldn’t have minded growing up here.” He stretched out on the grass.
She looked up at the house that was so familiar she barely noticed it. A vast shingle-style “cottage,” weathered dark brown except for the white trim and the rusty new layer of cedar shingles on the arching rooftops. Too big for the puny one-acre backyard. She’d never understood why her parents didn’t buy a house right on the dunes, but they liked being in town.
“I hate it here. We only came in the summer, but you try being the fat girl on the beach in a town like this.” She sipped her lemonade again. She had no appetite for pizza. Somehow the loss of Con’s car made her feel empty. Another beautiful thing that was gone for good.
“Wouldn’t bother me. Not if I had my own pool.” He leaned over and dipped his fingers in the water. Circles flew out across the shimmering surface.
“You probably would have liked it. You’re an upbeat kind of person. Guess I’m just spoiled rotten and don’t know how to be happy.” She lay back on the grass. Crabgrass prickled her neck. “Do you know why I’m looking forward to this TV show?”
“Why?”
“Because it’s going to be perfect. The dress, the cake, the flowers, everything. And do you know why it’s going to be perfect?”
“Why?”
She’d closed her eyes, shutting out the sunset.
“Because it’s fake. An illusion.”
“The cake is going to be fake?” She heard the grass next to her crinkle.
She laughed. “You know? It probably will be. A real cake would melt under the lights. The icing would slide right off. They’ll have to spray it with all kinds of gunk to hold it together. Maybe they’ll just make it out of cardboard and spackle. Oh Con, why is illusion so much better than reality?” She opened her eyes, and he was right there beside her on the grass.
“Maybe reality is better.” His dark eyes looked serious and good humored at the same time.
“Nope. I’ve been up to my neck in reality lately and it stinks. Do you know I called three of my so-called friends to ask if I could come stay with them