was five-forty-five when I walked over.” I laughed.
Inside I was pleased to see concern for me on his face. “I just live down on Paseo del Mar.”
He nodded. “One of those houses?”
“One of those .”
Our feet echoed in the empty hall. We didn’t speak, but I wasn’t uncomfortable, like I had been in the past with Matt or anybody else when there wasn’t any talk. I felt safe being with him, in thought and without words.
I saw a lone white Jaguar parked in the lot. His mother sat inside. We headed that direction. “Let me give you a ride home, Eden.”
“It’s not far, and I like to walk.”
“I’d feel better if I drove you. It’s ten-thirty.”
He stopped near the white Jaguar. I glanced over.
Through the window of the car, his mother smiled up at me.
“You really don’t have to.”
“I insist.”
“Okay.”
Mr. Christian opened the back door of the car for me and, after I was seated, he closed it, taking a moment to look at me through the glass. Inside, the leather seats smelled of heavy perfume. I figured the Jaguar belonged to his mother and the scent nearly confirmed it. Classical music played from the CD player.
“You don’t have a car, dear?” Mrs. Christian asked over her shoulder.
“I just live around the corner. I usually walk.”
She nodded, just as Mr. Christian got in the car. “It’s good exercise.”
“I think so,” I said.
He started the car and glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “Eden lives a few streets away. I offered to give her a ride home.”
“Yes, she told me.”
We drove out of the empty parking lot and onto the street. “You play so beautifully, Mrs. Christian. I still can’t believe you played a concert without practicing with us.”
“Oh, I practiced, believe me dear.”
“Will you be playing for all of the concerts?”
“Shhh.” James’s eyes smiled at mine in the rearview mirror. “I haven’t asked her that yet.”
His mother’s soft and fluid laugh filled the car, just as warm and inviting as Mr. Christian’s. The kind way she looked at him, her face lit with a glow that made me envious. I knew then and there that she would play for him.
He pulled onto Paseo del Mar.
“Turn left,” I told him and leaned forward. He glanced at me. “It’s there.” I pointed. For the first time, I was embarrassed about my house, palatial as it was. So overboard. I wondered what they were thinking.
He drove onto the stone driveway. “Will the gate open?” he asked.
“I’ll get out here, it’s okay.” I opened the door. Before I knew it, Mr. Christian was out of his door and holding mine open. The sea breeze tickled the curls around his face.
“Thanks,” I said. Then I leaned around him to say goodbye to his mother. When I did, I reached to steady myself. His body was in the way. I had intended to reach for the door, but my hand rested instead on his bicep. Our eyes met. I swallowed a nervous lump, but I left my hand there.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Christian.”
“And you.”
I stood erect. My hand fell to my side. That intensity was back on his face, no smile, nothing but sharp heat. I could have withered into the stone driveway.
He shut the door. The only sound was the soft idling of the car. His gaze left mine to skim a look at the house.
“Want me to walk you to the door?”
I shook my head, even though I wanted that very much.
But at the same time, I wanted to get inside, away from this picture of prosperity with me standing in front of the house like the cover of Lifestyles of the Rich.
I turned and pressed the buttons of the security code and the gates slowly opened.
“I have a remote,” I said. “But I forget to use it.”
He nodded and took another sweeping look of the property. Then he shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Goodnight,
Inside I was pleased to see concern for me on his face. “I just live down on Paseo del Mar.”
He nodded. “One of those houses?”
“One of those .”
Our feet echoed in the empty hall. We didn’t speak, but I wasn’t uncomfortable, like I had been in the past with Matt or anybody else when there wasn’t any talk. I felt safe being with him, in thought and without words.
I saw a lone white Jaguar parked in the lot. His mother sat inside. We headed that direction. “Let me give you a ride home, Eden.”
“It’s not far, and I like to walk.”
“I’d feel better if I drove you. It’s ten-thirty.”
He stopped near the white Jaguar. I glanced over.
Through the window of the car, his mother smiled up at me.
“You really don’t have to.”
“I insist.”
“Okay.”
Mr. Christian opened the back door of the car for me and, after I was seated, he closed it, taking a moment to look at me through the glass. Inside, the leather seats smelled of heavy perfume. I figured the Jaguar belonged to his mother and the scent nearly confirmed it. Classical music played from the CD player.
“You don’t have a car, dear?” Mrs. Christian asked over her shoulder.
“I just live around the corner. I usually walk.”
She nodded, just as Mr. Christian got in the car. “It’s good exercise.”
“I think so,” I said.
He started the car and glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “Eden lives a few streets away. I offered to give her a ride home.”
“Yes, she told me.”
We drove out of the empty parking lot and onto the street. “You play so beautifully, Mrs. Christian. I still can’t believe you played a concert without practicing with us.”
“Oh, I practiced, believe me dear.”
“Will you be playing for all of the concerts?”
“Shhh.” James’s eyes smiled at mine in the rearview mirror. “I haven’t asked her that yet.”
His mother’s soft and fluid laugh filled the car, just as warm and inviting as Mr. Christian’s. The kind way she looked at him, her face lit with a glow that made me envious. I knew then and there that she would play for him.
He pulled onto Paseo del Mar.
“Turn left,” I told him and leaned forward. He glanced at me. “It’s there.” I pointed. For the first time, I was embarrassed about my house, palatial as it was. So overboard. I wondered what they were thinking.
He drove onto the stone driveway. “Will the gate open?” he asked.
“I’ll get out here, it’s okay.” I opened the door. Before I knew it, Mr. Christian was out of his door and holding mine open. The sea breeze tickled the curls around his face.
“Thanks,” I said. Then I leaned around him to say goodbye to his mother. When I did, I reached to steady myself. His body was in the way. I had intended to reach for the door, but my hand rested instead on his bicep. Our eyes met. I swallowed a nervous lump, but I left my hand there.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Christian.”
“And you.”
I stood erect. My hand fell to my side. That intensity was back on his face, no smile, nothing but sharp heat. I could have withered into the stone driveway.
He shut the door. The only sound was the soft idling of the car. His gaze left mine to skim a look at the house.
“Want me to walk you to the door?”
I shook my head, even though I wanted that very much.
But at the same time, I wanted to get inside, away from this picture of prosperity with me standing in front of the house like the cover of Lifestyles of the Rich.
I turned and pressed the buttons of the security code and the gates slowly opened.
“I have a remote,” I said. “But I forget to use it.”
He nodded and took another sweeping look of the property. Then he shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Goodnight,
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