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Chapter Seventeen
Kyle’s swankysex machine of a car sped through the vast aridness of the desert as we headed toward Palm Springs. It was barely past ten in the morning and the heat permeated through the glass even though the air conditioning was on full blast. Though barren it appeared, sparse cactuses sprouted sporadically, evidence that one could survive in harsh conditions. That was there’s beauty to be found in places that one never thought of. One had to find the beauty in the ugly things in life, only then one could appreciate and reflect on the meaning it presented. Happiness was a state of mind, a practice that I had yet to perfect.
My eyes roved toward the long lined of colossal windmills fueling the city we were heading to. Kyle had been accommodating in making sure I had my coffee and other refreshments before our drive. He kept his phone on silent while he drove. We didn’t suffer the awkwardness of small talk. Being with him felt great, so much so that I felt utterly comfortable in his presence. There were no frivolities between us and I found that mildly refreshing. Stylishly dressed in his Dolce suit and aviator shades, he was too hot to resist, and normally, I would be a neurotic blabbering mess, but I was calm.
The fundraiser was held in one of Palm Springs’ elite golf resorts. Donning a low-back olive silk dress and minimal gold jewelry and makeup, I was glad that party was indoors instead of being held out on the open. Given the blazing heat, a heat stroke would go hand in hand with a cocktail.
“Did anyone ever notice that you have a very sexy back?” Kyle murmured into my ear while trying to suppress a laugh. “It sounds stupid, I know, but it fucking is. The arch, the silkiness—it’s perfection.” His hand gently brushed through the exposed expanse of my spine.
We were in the midst of a meal with other guests at our table, but he didn’t seem to care if anyone minded his appropriateness.
“Really? Do your dates buy that second-rate line?” Where was he getting his lines? From Justin Timberlake?
His eyes crinkled as he gazed at me with profound amusement. He then closed the gap and whispered into my ear. “In all seriousness, though, it makes me wonder how your skin would taste on my tongue.”
My cheeks flamed as I diverted my eyes downward at my lap. “Behave you little pervert,” I murmured back in the same tenor and fervor.
Earlier on he had been the epitome of a gentleman, but after two drinks, his inner slut was ready to come and play. Kyle was a tease, but goodness, when he channeled all of his sexiness into that smoldering hazel eyes of his, that shit melted my underwear.
I held River in such high regard, but Kyle came a close second. But with Kyle, things were fun, new, and there was no high price to pay. That appealed more to me more than I cared to admit. He was a sexy diversion I welcomed with great enthusiasm.
I didn’t have the affinity for rubbing shoulders with socialites, the wealthy, and the like, yet I tried to stay afloat with the conversations. It was a trick that always came in handy when I had to attend these stuffy events, pretending this was a set and I had to figure out lines. A role-play.
I looked around me and wondered if any of these souls had the same childhood I did. Doubted it. My unfortunate background was something I tried not to dwell on. It wasn’t shame, but it put me in prickly position when people pried and began questioning.
My past couldn’t be undone, and it didn’t define me. The pain I had endured gave me depth, some credibility that my past didn’t cripple me like some of the children who went through the same ordeal. It gave me shades of gray in a black and white world. Though I was still figuring out myself, my life in general, I was proud to say that I had a moral compass to guide me, thanks to lovingly sweet Mattie. Without her guidance and encouragement, steering me to better pastures, who knows where I would have ended up.
After our meal, Kyle became deeply imbedded in conversation with a few male guests whom he introduced as some of the executives in the movie industry. They were trying to broker a deal for a TCC documentary. And since I was an outstanding date, I didn’t want to be a nuisance, so I tried to brave it out and mingled on my own, venturing socially to people who seemed to give me the silent disdain through their eyes.
After a failed attempt of trying to hold a conversation for the umpteenth time, I began to wander toward the bar and befriended the vivacious bartender named Fergus.
“I’m so sorry. I hope you don’t feel like I’ve abandoned you. I didn’t expect to be going through the details today.” Kyle approached me from the back with his hand securely on my lower back.
I shrugged, not minding much that he had to work. “Don’t worry; I know how these things work.”
“Well, I hope you won’t mind for another couple more hours? We’re invited guests to Mr. Woodhull’s private home. There’s a pool, a spa, and a tennis court if you feel like breaking a sweat.”
I could tell that he was ashamed to ask, which was cute, but he needed not fret. I wasn’t one of those high maintenance women who needed around the clock attention.
“Stop worrying. I’m sure I’ll figure something out. A swim would be nice.”
“Thanks for being understanding.” He kissed my cheek, his way of showing gratitude. “I’ll make it up to you.”
I was sure he would.
“Thanks for the fun convos, Fergus.” I saluted the man before locking my arm around Kyle’s before we headed toward the exit.
After giving our ticket to the valet, we drove toward Mr. Woodhull’s palatial estate. The sprawling Italian villa had private bungalows specifically for his guests. It reeked big money and, given Kyle’s status in the music business, I was sure he and his father were amongst these kinds of folks. River was rich, but the person who cut his checks were the wealthy ones.
For the first time, I became agitated as I thought of being such a disadvantage for Kyle. Hopefully he wasn’t embarrassed having me as his date. Whoever this Sienna woman was, I was sure she was part of this lifestyle. It intimidated me to wonder if these people knew her, and if so, were they comparing me to her? Instead of wallowing for how I came up short, I focused on the butler who ushered me toward the sprawling gardens that led toward the bungalow, which apparently had its own private pools as well. Kyle, on the other hand, was possibly sharing a cigar amongst those stiff elderly folks.
“Everything you need is here. If you need anything—anything at all—just give us a ring. If you also fancy something to eat, the chef will whip up whatever you so wish, Miss Quinn,” the butler aptly named Martin graciously stated as he showed me into my temporary home of solitude.
Once he left, my eyes took in my surroundings. This setting had romance in mind. It transported me back to old world Mediterranean—the earthy décor, archways with thick cream curtains slung on each end, the pink flowers in every flat surface, the blissful scent of candles burning in the air and the azure swimming pool with a beautiful waterfall cascading at the end of it. It was a place to lure the senses. And goodness, I was beguiled since I had never really been in places such as this.
With a buzz of anticipation, I slipped out of my heels and set my feet free to feel the heat on the Marazzi limestone tiles that were bordered with trimmed grass.
“If only Anton could see me now,” I murmured, grinning as I softly strolled toward the chilled champagne was stationed in a silver bucket. After pouring myself a glass, I closed my lids and directed my face toward the sun, loving the heated rays kiss my skin, greeting it.
