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Ace headed toward the freeway that would take them back over the bridge. A comfortable silence settled between them as he programmed the address she’d given him into the GPS.
“You’re in a condo, not a hotel. Friend of yours?”
“No. It belongs to us.”
“Who’s us?”
“My family.”
“Dang, girl. What does your family do? Y’all own everything!”
“Real estate—I thought I told you.”
“When do you think that happened? I just found out your cousins own a vineyard. Wait a minute. The building downtown, Ten Drake Plaza—that’s not you, is it?”
“Actually, yes. Owned by the company my dad started in Paradise Cove.”
“Is that where you still live?”
“Yes. All of my family is there except a brother who’s married and lives in New Orleans, another finishing his doctorate and my sister, Teresa, who splits her time between there and Alaska, where her husband has a business.”
“How many of you are there?”
“Eight altogether.”
“And you’re the baby.”
“How’d you guess?”
He gave her a look. “Really?”
“Shut up.”
“How long are you going to be in town? Long enough for us to get a fitting in tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
“Any plans for tonight?”
“Yes, with you.”
“There you go again. Acting like London, when a strong brother like me needs to hang with Clarisse.”
“Ace, I’d like very much for you to come in and share a cup of tea and then tuck me into bed.”
“That’s all you want from me in bed…a little tucking?”
“I want a lot of tucking from you, Ace. But this is all about business, right?”
“Right,” Ace said with a serious face London thought worthy of an Oscar. If Ace came inside the condo tonight, she’d make sure he didn’t leave until morning.
CHAPTER 11
They arrived back in San Francisco. GPS directed Ace to an upscale neighborhood on the city’s upper south side.
“In a quarter of a mile, your destination is on the right.”
Ace glanced at London. “This is where your condo is, Presidio Heights?”
“Not mine. My family owns it.”
“You almost could have walked from the restaurant.”
“In these heels? I don’t think so.”
“You know I’m kidding. I wouldn’t have let you walk home, heels or not.”
“Ah, you’re such a gentleman.”
“I try.”
“I’m going to try, too.”
“What?”
“Never mind. Take a left at the next stop and then your first right to the garage.”
The two kept up a casual banter until they reached the living room.
Ace stopped in the middle of the floor, hands on hips as he looked around. “This is very nice. Was it professionally decorated?”
“My mom would love hearing that question. She’s furnished so many houses that calling her a professional is probably not too much of a stretch.”
“It sounds like you have a wonderful family.”
“They’re all right. Let me take your coat.” He peeled out of it. She hung both of theirs in the hall closet and continued to the kitchen. “What type of tea would you like?”
He followed her. “What type do you have?”
She turned and stopped him. “Why don’t I make you a special caramel and cinnamon blend while you light the fireplace and find some good music on the sound system?”
“That’ll work.” He returned to the living room. “Where is it?”
“The fireplace? It’s that big open square on the far wall.”
“Stick to your job as a model,” he yelled, “because you suck as a comedian!”
“You know you laughed. The stereo is controlled by that panel near the hallway. Push the button to the right to open it up and turn it on. Everything is self-explanatory from there.”
London poured water into the teakettle, pulled down a box of assorted teas and then went to the pantry for one of two types of caramel she intended to serve with the tea. Soon, the neo-soul sounds of Amel Larrieux floated around the wall and into the kitchen.
