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I laid my suitcase on the bench at the end of the bed and turned to David.
"What's up for tonight?" I asked, leaning back against the bed frame.
"Not much," he said. "If you were hoping for a party, you'll have to wait for next weekend. We're practicing over the next couple of days before we lay down some new tracks."
"That's okay," I said and shook my head. "It's going to be a working visit for both of us. I'll be spending most of the day at the offices, trying to get caught up and meeting with my people. I'll be happy just to have meals with you and visit when you're free."
"Good," he said and came over. "What's up with that girl of yours?"
"What girl?" I asked with a grin. I'd already told David and my other brothers about Ella, but I enjoyed playing dumb.
"The one you fell for when I was there. The one who's making you smile right now. The one you wouldn’t stop talking about over Thanksgiving dinner."
"She's fine. In fact, she's pretty amazing."
"Good, good. All the brothers are glad to see you getting back up on the saddle again, so to speak. Tell me about her. No, wait. Put your stuff away and come downstairs for a drink. We can talk by the pool. I have to do something first."
"Okay."
I spent a few moments hanging up my shirts and suits, and then went downstairs after changing into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. It felt good to be in a warmer climate. I loved the sun and warmth of LA.
I went down to the main floor and David was already there, standing at the bar and placing two glasses on the counter.
"What'll you have?" he asked, waiting with his tongs ready to pick up ice. "You usually drink scotch on the rocks, if I'm not mistaken. Or craft beer."
"Beer would be nice," I said, and he pulled out a bottle of some local craft beer that I didn't recognize.
"This is good stuff," he said and cracked it open, handing me the open bottle. "You'll like it."
I took a sip and nodded in approval. I could feel the stress slipping away as David brought his own bottle of beer out and we went to the patio. Under a huge umbrella were two reclining chairs. We each took one and leaned back, sipping our beer and taking in the amazing scenery.
"This is the life," I said and sighed. "It's almost December and the weather is fantastic. Back in Manhattan, there's snow on the ground."
"That sucks. Move out here. You could spend winters here and go back to Manhattan in the spring."
I shook my head. "I could maybe come out for a couple of weeks now and then, but I couldn't stay here for any length of time. The paper requires that I be there all week to oversee things. I want to be really involved. Not just a funder."
"I understand. Just me being greedy, wanting you guys to move out here. Now that dad's gone, we only have each other. Plus, our own families, of course. But you know what I mean. I don't want to lose touch with you guys."
"We won't," I said and gave his arm a squeeze. "We may not live in the same city, but we can all fly somewhere pretty fast if we want."
"So, tell me more about you and Ella. Did you take a picture at least, the way you promised?"
I laughed, because David was not going to let it go until I showed him a picture proving she was real and not just a story I told to convince them I was okay. I pulled out my cell and flipped through my pics of her, selecting one of her sitting on my desk at my apartment, wearing this soft white sweater and leggings, both of which amplified her curves. Her red-brown hair was long, and she was smiling at me. I smiled when I remembered taking it one afternoon when we'd just finished walking around Central Park and her cheeks were flushed. We made love very soon after the pic was taken.
"Here she is," I said and handed him the pic. "As promised."
"Wow," David said and looked
closer. "She's lovely. I like the freckles. And dimples, too."
"She's sweet. And she's really smart and might go to Columbia next year to do her Masters. She's got a great sense of humor. And she writes erotica for fun and wants to be an author."
"You already told me all that," David said with a laugh, for I had told him pretty much everything I knew about Ella. "She's kind of the exact opposite of Christie, isn't she?"
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"You know, Christie was blonde and tall and model-slim. Business major. Wanted to be one of those Housewives of Manhattan or something and saw you as the way to get the lifestyle."
