Waking Up to You Overexposed - By Leslie Kelly Page 0,34
he would be that affected by her engaging in a little food foreplay. But she didn’t want him changing tables. Not when the waitress might very well decide to take a break and plop down on his lap.
“Okay, subject change. Grandpa mentioned that you had a connection to the estate. Your great-grandfather was the silent movie star who built it?” That had surprised her, especially given Oliver’s apparent disdain for the movie business.
“Yeah.” He looked relieved she’d done as he asked. “A million years ago. I never knew him.”
“Have you ever seen any of his movies?”
“Sure. My great-grandfather bought a bunch of them when his studio went bankrupt. My father has a box of them. We sometimes had family nights watching them when I was growing up.”
“How very Norma Desmond,” she murmured.
He nodded, getting the Sunset Boulevard reference.
“When he found out I was living here, he mailed me a few so I could show them to Buddy. I haven’t had a chance to do it yet.”
“What a fascinating era it must have been. So much more mysterious and glamorous than today, given the 24/7 coverage of every gruesome detail of a famous person’s life.” She knew her voice contained a hint of bitterness, on Tommy’s behalf, but he didn’t question her on it.
“They sure knew how to party, from the sound of it.”
“I’d love to see one of those films.”
He reached for his beer. “They’re on big reels. A pain to operate, but they certainly make for an authentic experience. Buddy borrowed a projector from somebody, but we never got around to showing them.”
Meaning he couldn’t just give her a disk to pop into her laptop. He’d have to come in and set up a whole viewing room. Stay and operate the machine. Spend time with her, watching it. Like one of his family movie nights growing up, only it would just be the two of them.
“We can watch one some evening if you’re bored.”
This was sounding a little like a movie date, and she suddenly wondered if he would live to regret having her change the subject. She could eat all kinds of ice cream while watching a movie. And if he dared to offer her two kisses, she might finally get that multiple orgasm she’d been craving.
“I’d love that,” she murmured. “It might make you feel like you’re at home. Speaking of which, where does your family live now?”
“San Diego. I was born and raised there.”
“Big family?”
“Parents, two sisters, one brother-in-law, one niece.”
“All in Southern California?”
“Yes.”
“So why aren’t you there with them?”
“I was close, in Orange County, until four months ago.”
Finally she was getting somewhere. “What on earth made you come up here?” she couldn’t help asking. “I’d normally guess one of the three biggies—romance, legal trouble or job. But you appear to be single and don’t look like the law-breaking type.”
“I am. And I’m not.”
She went over the answer in her mind, realizing he was admitting he was single—hallelujah—and an honest guy.
“Okay. So, number three. Job? I don’t mean to offend you, but it seems to me your field isn’t necessarily one that would require you to move so far away.”
He sipped his beer again, not meeting her eye. She didn’t push, sensing he was trying to reach a decision about how much to say. Finally, with a sigh, as if he realized she wasn’t going to back off and would be around long enough to wear him down if she chose to, he admitted, “I was with the district attorney’s office in L.A. until earlier this year.”
“With...wait, you mean you’re a lawyer?”
She shouldn’t have been surprised, considering she’d already seen evidence of his intelligence, his memory and his darned interrogation skills. But it was just so strange to think of a big Los Angeles attorney moving up here to work as a laborer for her grandfather.
“It’s a long story.”
She merely stared.
“I don’t want to get into it.”
“Come on, you’ve got to give me more than, I was a lawyer, quit and came up here to plant grapes.” She suddenly remembered what he’d said the night they met, about feeling cleaner digging in the dirt here than he had in his previous life. Then she thought about the kinds of cases he must have been involved in. Los Angeles was a glitzy haven to starry-eyed actors and actresses. But anyone who actually lived there knew it could be incredibly seedy. Ugly, violent, with crimes and murders happening often enough to immunize its residents to the shock of