“I said there’s Smith up ahead in line. He’s waving to us.”
Sure enough, there he is. Smith motions for us to join him. Cutting in front of a line of twenty-five caffeine-addicted folks looking for their morning fix sounds mutinous, but I don’t think I can survive any more of my father’s apologies. God, I’d give anything to have my hand shoved up a turkey butt right now.
“Why don’t you go save a spot in line with him while I find a copy of the Times at that little newsstand on the corner?”
I’m on the verge of coming up with an excuse to go back home when it occurs to me that I wouldn’t mind giving Smith a piece of my mind about him regifting my engagement ring.
“Hey, you made it.” Smith scratches Ozzie behind the ears. “And you brought your dad.”
“What do you mean?” I ask. “Were you waiting for me?”
“Um, yeah.” He furrows his brow. “Because of our texts this morning.”
“Oh shit. I didn’t realize that was you.”
“Who else would it be?”
“Oh my god, is that her, babe?” A woman with red curly hair pushes past Smith and locks me in the sort of hug that only seems appropriate for serious mud wrestlers. Ozzie yips, which is probably the only thing that keeps her from choking me out. “Penny, I’m so excited to finally meet you. I’m Sarah. Smith’s girlfriend.”
There’s something a little familiar about her. I know that we’ve never met, but I can’t seem to stop staring at her, which doesn’t go unnoticed.
“You OK?” Smith rests his arm around her. “You look a little pale.”
“She looks gorgeous.” Sarah reaches for my hair like I’m a pony somebody dumped at a roadside petting zoo. She’s lucky I haven’t bitten anyone since I was three. “What products do you use? Your curls look amazing.”
And it hits me. She looks like me. Actually, she looks like I did when I was her age, which, if I’m willing to guess, is probably in the neighborhood of twenty-two. Somehow, I liked her more when I thought she was an air fryer.
“Shampoo,” I manage to say. “And conditioner.” And to think I get paid to write dialogue for a living.
“Good tip.” She smiles as she releases my hair, and I take a small step back for good measure. “It’s working for you.”
“Sarah just got in this morning,” Smith says. “I caught her up on what happened yesterday.”
“So brutal.” She makes a pouty face. “Here I thought I had a hard time getting in from China, but what you guys had to go through sounds a million times worse than navigating Beijing.”
“Did someone say Beijing?” My father stands next to me, his newspaper rolled up under his arm. “I’ve always wanted to go to Beijing. I’ve got international partners there.”
Smith introduces my father to Sarah, the amateur mud wrestler and former air fryer. Within seconds, the three of them are locked in another rousing conversation about international travel, and I’m stuck as the odd one out, all because I didn’t stay in bed. I could slowly walk away and I don’t think they’d even notice. I take another step back. I could—
“Your grandmother wanted me to let you know that Cher was supposed to be in the kitchen ten minutes ago.” Martin’s breath blows warm against my ear, sending a tiny jolt of heat down my back. “Your sister said I would find you here.”
The relief I feel when I turn around and see him standing behind me with two cups of caffeine is indescribable.
“How did you get those?” I take one of the cups and breathe in the familiar minty aroma. Peppermint chai latte, my favorite. “And how did you know what to get me? Are you a wizard?”
“I ordered ahead.” He smiles. “And I asked your sister.”
“You are a wizard.”
“What’s all that?” He nods toward my father, Smith, and Sarah. “Are you being held hostage? Blink twice if you need me to rescue you.”
“Martin,” my father says. “It’s good to see you this morning. Were you able to take care of that bit of business from last night?”
“I was.”
“Excellent.” My father nods. “Well, you should join us this morning for coffee.”
“Actually, I just came here to get Penny. Her presence is requested in the kitchen.”
“I’ll catch you at home, Dad.” I wave. “Sarah, it was great to meet you. I’m sorry we didn’t have longer to get to know each other.”
But at least we will always be connected by the same ring.
“Actually, Penelope, Smith was just telling me that his sister had to leave this morning for some sort of business emergency. He and Sarah don’t have anywhere to go tonight for Thanksgiving, and they’ve graciously accepted my invitation to our dinner tonight.”
“Unless you’re not OK with it,” Smith says. “It’s last minute, and if you want some time alone with your family, I totally understand.”
At this point, not only would I prefer to fist the turkey, but I’d be willing to stick my entire head up its ass if it got me out of this moment.
“What do you say, Penny?” Sarah smiles at me like she’s in a toothpaste commercial. “Oh, and you must be Martin! You’re Penny’s—”
“Dinner’s at seven!” I blurt out. “See you then!”
I drag Martin and Ozzie away before my father decides to adopt Sarah and Smith.
Chapter 14
“We should smoke some of Nana Rosie’s pot,” I say to Martin as we stroll through the neighborhood. We’ve decided to take the long way home, or actually, I have. I’m not sure Martin knows his way around yet. “We should sneak into her cannabis casita and smoke with a big bong and pet the grass until it’s time for me to get on a plane back to San Francisco.”
“Why do I have a feeling you’ve never come close to smoking anything at all?”
“What gave me away?”
“The big bong.”
“What can I say.” I sip my chai. “I took that DARE program very seriously.”
“I can tell.”
We walk in comfortable silence for a few blocks, allowing Ozzie to smell every fence, tree, and fuel-efficient car. I’ve only known Martin Butler for a handful of hours, and already I feel more comfortable walking with him than I did with my father earlier. I’m not sure if that says more about me or Martin, but either way, I like spending time with him.
I like the way he walks next to Ozzie, creating a human barrier, whenever a bigger dog passes us. I like the way he takes pictures of the old houses in the neighborhood because he likes the Victorian architecture. At least, I think that’s why he keeps taking those pictures. If there’s a string of burglaries here next week, I guess I’ll finally get the chance to call in to one of those crime tip lines.
I like that he dresses like a normal person. It doesn’t feel like having money has changed him, and that’s refreshing and a little unexpected for Southern California. Despite the suburban feel of Coronado, it’s still in a very monied area of SoCal, which means the people here aren’t just trying to keep up with the Joneses. They’re trying to outdo them. As far as I can tell, Martin doesn’t seem to care about the Joneses. Maybe that’s the blessing of being an outsider from the start, instead of growing up an outsider in a family of natural insiders.
“So, I guess we’ve got another dinner to get through with me being your fake boyfriend,” Martin says as we round the corner of Naval Street. “I hope my second performance is as good as the first.”
“Ugh.” I roll my eyes. “You know, it’s your fault that this is happening.”
He lifts his brow. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to help me fill in the blanks on that one.”
“You were supposed to be at Starbucks.” I inhale the rest of my drink and chuck the empty cup into an open garbage can. “You told me you wanted to meet for coffee and had someone you wanted me to meet. I asked if it was Dolly Parton. At the time it made sense since you’re both from Kentucky.”