“It goes without saying that if you hurt her, I’ll kill you and make it look like an accident.”
If it were anyone else, I’d smirk, but Mia isn’t playing.
“I know.”
“Okay, then.”
Chapter Nine
Riley
“And then I said, you listen here, Douglass Smooter, I don’t care if you were the king of England, you will not tell me who I can vote for in this election.”
Nana is on a roll. I sit back in her dining room chair, holding my tea in both hands, and smile at her. “And what did he say?”
“Oh, he just went on about how he used to be the mayor of some small town in Washington, and he knows how government is supposed to be run, blah blah blah.” She rolls her blue eyes and reaches up to fluff her salt-and-pepper hair.
“What were you voting on?”
“Why, the president of the domino club, of course.”
I hide my smile behind my teacup. “Of course. Who won?”
“I did.”
“Good for you.” She reaches her fist out for a bump, and I oblige her. My nana is the coolest woman I know. Self-confident, funny, and smart as hell, she gives everyone in her retirement community a run for their money. “How is Mr. Lewis?”
“Who, dear?”
“Mr. Lewis. The guy you were dating last month.”
“Oh.” She waves that off and fills her cup with more tea. “He was entirely too old for me.”
“You said he was sixty-eight.”
“Exactly.”
“You’re seventy-two.”
“Yes, and I’ve decided to spend my time on the younger men. No one older than sixty-five, Riley. These old geezers can’t keep up with me. I need them to be younger, with more energy.”
“Why not just go for a guy in his forties?”
“Don’t think I haven’t,” she says with a wink, and I immediately scowl.
“Ew. I don’t think I really want to know this.”
“Oh, stop it. We’re both grown adults.” She waves me off and takes a sip, watching me with those shrewd blue eyes that look so much like mine. “Having gentlemen callers keeps us young.”
“Sure.” I roll my eyes, not wanting to give even one thought to what my grandmother does with these gentlemen callers. Surely, she doesn’t sleep with them.
Right?
Because, that’s just disturbing.
“Please tell me you’ve met a nice young man. It’s time you do. You can’t pine away after that guy, oh, what was his name? Rick? Ralf?”
“Logan,” I reply with a laugh. “And I’m not pining away after him. But I’d been with him for a whole year, Nana, and he left with no explanation. I think I was entitled to be pretty hurt over that.”
“I agree, but you need to meet someone new.”
“Actually, I have,” I reply, and try to act all nonchalant about it, but Nana’s eyes widen and she smiles widely.
“Finally! Tell me everything. How’s the sex?”
“Nana!”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Riley Marie, you’re an adult woman with needs. Please tell me you’re not doing something stupid like holding out for marriage.”
“You know, most parents actually do advise their children to hold out for marriage.”
“I’m your nana, not your mother, not that she held out for marriage either. I’m quite sure she was no virgin when she and my son met.”
“I can’t even believe I’m having this conversation with you,” I mutter, and press my fingertips to my eyes, praying for the floor to open up and swallow me.
“Oh, we’re having it. And if it makes you feel any better, I have my share of sex too.”
“No. No, it doesn’t make me feel any better.”
She laughs with delight and slaps her hand on the table. “Hey, at least I can’t get pregnant these days. Makes the whole birth-control thing easier.”
I can’t help but laugh with her now. “Nana, you are absolutely one of a kind.”
“Of course I am. And so are you.” She pats my hand. “So keep the sex to yourself if you must, but tell me about him.”
“He’s actually the main producer for the TV show we’re filming at the restaurant this month.” I take a sip of tea and try to form the best description of him in my mind. “He’s tall, I’d say about six-foot-two.”
“I was always a fan of a tall gentleman caller myself,” she says with a knowing nod.
“I love that you call them gentleman callers.”
“Well, they are, darling.” She grins. “Keep going.”
“Right. So, he’s tall, and he has light brown hair with green eyes, and he wears these dark, thick-rimmed glasses that are so freaking hot.”
“Mm-hmm,” she says with a nod. “Glasses are definitely sexy.”
My nana just said “sexy.”
“He has great hands,” I continue. “And he’s intelligent. He likes video games, but he works out too.”
“So he has a nice balance in his life,” Nana says.
“I think so,” I reply with a nod. “He’s no couch potato.”
“No, you wouldn’t be attracted to that,” she says. “And you said he works for the television company?”
“The network, yes.”
“Where does he live?”
“Los Angeles,” I reply with a wince, and stand to boil more water in the kettle on her stovetop. Her refrigerator is covered with monthly calendars, each day filled in with reminders for tai chi, domino nights, bowling, bingo, yoga, and swim aerobics.
The woman never stops moving, and I’m pretty sure that’s what is going to keep her alive to about one hundred years old.
“Do you enjoy the tai chi?” I ask.
“Oh yes, it’s very relaxing and good for the circulation. You should come for it.”
I smile at the thought of doing tai chi with a big group of seniors. It actually sounds like fun, but I can’t make it up here at the time of their class.
“And don’t change the subject,” she says. “How are you going to pursue something with this man if he lives in Southern California? And what is his name, anyway?”
“Trevor,” I reply, and fill both of our cups. “He’s in his midthirties, so he’s older than me.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Nana says thoughtfully.
“You’re going after the young ones,” I remind her, but she just laughs and shakes her head.
“That’s for me. We’re talking about you now. Do you have a photo of him? Do you take selfies?”
“Do you take selfies?” I ask her as I wake my phone up and find the few selfies we’ve taken together. We don’t do it often.
“Of course I do, Riley. This is 2017.”
“Of course.” I show her a photo of Trevor and me and watch as Nana’s face softens.
“Oh, you make a handsome couple.”
“Thank you.”
“I don’t want you to move to Southern California.”
“I’m not.” I tuck my phone back in my handbag. “My business is here, you’re here, my friends, my life, everything is here. I don’t plan to and don’t want to move to L.A.”
“Is he going to move here, then?”
I frown. “I don’t think so. His job is down there. Besides, it’s still pretty new. We haven’t really talked about this stuff.”
“When does he leave?”
“He has about a week and a half left in filming,” I reply, and feel an instant heaviness in my shoulders. I don’t want to think about him leaving already.
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