“You’re right. So who’s this guy?”
“He’s . . .” She looked baffled. “He’s . . . wonderful.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “What’s his name?”
“Michael.” She smiled softly. “He’s an engineer—can you believe it? He was born in Ukraine, but he’s lived here forever. His family calls him Mischa. Isn’t that cute? He’s great. Really handsome and funny. And smart.”
“You found all that out while waiting for to-go food?”
“We ended up grabbing a table and eating there together. It was a great conversation, and we found out we actually have a lot of stuff in common. He’s wonderful, you’ll see. We’re going out tomorrow night.”
I stared at her in surprise. “Oh, no, you’re blushing. You never blush. You really like him.”
“Give me a break.” She rolled her eyes. “I blush sometimes. But yeah, I like him.”
Disconcerted, I glanced down at the Kama Sutra and decided that further inspection could wait. I closed the book and looked up at Robin. “Okay, he sounds great, but I have to ask why you’re seeing Mr. Wonderful when you’re in love with my brother.”
Her lips twisted into a frown. “Austin hasn’t made any moves in my direction lately.”
I frowned, too. “Well, it’s not like you live in the same neighborhood anymore. He’s going to have to make an effort to come after you.”
“Yes, he is,” she said wistfully. “Look, he traveled and partied for years, and now he’s ready to settle down back home in Dharma and run the winery. But I’m not ready to do that, yet. Not that he’s asked me to.”
I sighed. “I don’t want my brother to blow this.”
“I don’t want him to, either. But I’m not going to sit at home waiting for the phone to ring, either.”
She looked like she could have used a hug so I jumped off the chair and wrapped my arms around her. “You know I love you, no matter what happens. So for now, I’ll just hope you have a good time with Mr. Wonderful.”
“Yoo-hoo!”
We both jolted in surprise. I turned and saw my neighbors Jeremy and Sergio poking their heads through my open door. I guess I hadn’t locked it earlier.
“Hi, guys,” I said. “Come on in. You remember Robin, right?”
“Of course,” Jeremy said, waving both of his hands at us.
Sergio gave me a hug, then said, “Hi, Robin.”
“We’re sorry to bug you,” Jeremy said, pacing around my workroom, staring at the shelves. “But I’m preparing for my performance art debut at the Castro Street Fair, and I’m hunting for accessories. Do you have a boa or any girlie hats or big jewelry?”
“Big jewelry isn’t really my style,” I said, “but I probably have a hat you could use.”
“I have lots of pretty things at home,” Robin said.
“Your stuff is probably too nice for what he wants,” Sergio said. Then he whispered, “He’s presenting an homage to the homeless.”
“Yeah, the tackier, the better,” Jeremy said. “Ooh, what’s this?” He grabbed the funky Indian scarf and wrapped it around his neck.
“It’s yours if you want it,” Robin said.
“I love it. It’s so scruffy.”
“I have other stuff you can look at,” I said.
“No, this is perfect. Shabby but colorful.” Jeremy scurried over to the small mirror hanging near the front door and tossed the length of the scarf back and forth and over his head. “I love the sparkly beads. It’s kind of me, don’t you think?”
“Yes, it’s you,” Robin insisted. “Take it. I’ll never wear it. My mother is insane to think I would.”
“Would you guys like a glass of wine?” I asked.
The men exchanged a look; then Jeremy shrugged. “If you insist.”
“I’ll get the wine,” Robin said, laughing. “You show them your sexy new book.”
“You have a sexy book?” Sergio said, moving closer to the worktable. He was fascinated with my bookbinding work. “Is this it?” He touched the spine of the Kama Sutra.
“Yes, and wait till you see it,” I said, excited all over again. I opened the book and turned to the page Robin and I had been peeking at earlier.
Jeremy began to squeal and slapped my arm. “You naughty girl.”
“This is fantastic,” Sergio said in awe as he carefully touched the outer edge of the book. “Maybe I’ll take that bookbinding class you teach after all.”
The following night, Derek returned from his Kuala Lumpur trip. I made pasta with a creamy tomato-vodka sauce, and we drank an Etude pinot noir I’d been saving for a special occasion. Our relationship was new enough that Derek coming to stay at my house definitely qualified as a special occasion.
After dinner, we snuggled on the couch. In my wildest imagination, I never would’ve used the word snuggle in regard to the ruggedly masculine Derek Stone. But there we were, snuggled. And I felt completely satisfied with life.