Page 45 of Life

He nods. “Okay, sounds to me like you need to figure out the best way to do what you love and have it still work for your life. If being a choreographer is the next big step, you have to make it happen.”

I laugh. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Babe, it is. You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out. ’Sides, I’ll help you.”

That time I snort-laugh and giggle. “You’ll help me? You barely know me.”

He smirks. “I like what I know.”

“You’re not helping me.” I roll my eyes. Help me? For Heaven’s sake, the man’s known me all of three weeks. Plus, he doesn’t know anything about dance.

One of Eli’s eyebrows rises into his hairline. “And why not?”

“Because once this is all over and Antonio’s caught, you’ll be on your way to the next big score.”

“And what does that have to do with the price of rice in China?”

“El precio del arroz?What are you talking about?”

“What does one have to do with the other? I already told you, babe. I’m in this. We’re a thing. The everyday can be worked out with time.”

I focus on the side of his face, sending laser beams of fire with my mind’s eye. “We arenota thing.” Unfortunately, I’m not Superman, so it doesn’t work.

“Babe, we are.” His tone brooks no argument.

Unfortunately for him, I’ve never been good at keeping my mouth shut. “How many times do I have to say it? Here, I’ll say it in Spanish.Usted y yo no somos una pareja.”

He grins and takes the exit toward Santa Cruz, letting his silence be his response. Frustrating man! He thinks he can say we’re together and boom, it’s fact. One thing is for certain, he’s got a lot to learn about women.

We’ve beenin the car over an hour and a half when Eli turns onto a road called Davenport Landing.

“Where are we going?” I’m unfamiliar with the area. I’ve lived in the San Francisco area my entire life, but I’ve never been to this section of Santa Cruz.

“You’ll see,” he says cryptically while following a winding little road.

The sun is high above the Pacific, the water a dark, inviting blue. Reminds me of the times I’ve gone to the beach with my soul sisters. We’d spread out a blanket, bring wine and snacks, and spend an entire day gabbing, eating, and getting tipsy. We try to do it at least once a year. Those are the days where the things that have been bothering us are brought to light, each of us making a point to work through whatever problem the other sister is having at the time. Sister solidarity is paramount, and we take one day a year to hash it all out. It’s worked for five years and counting so far.

Thinking of Gigi, Bree, and Kat, I realize I didn’t tell any of them I was leaving town. Phillip is going to spread the word about the evisceration of my apartment, although as Eli was ushering me out the door, Chase promised me he’d have the place cleaned and replacement furnishings brought in. I told him not to worry about it, but Chase rarely listens to anyone once he’s made a decision. Guess that’s what made him a billionaire. He did what he wanted and made good use of his analytical mind and critical thinking abilities. Gigi is the only person who can cut him down at the knees.

Once we arrive at wherever Eli’s taking me, I’ll shoot off a quick text letting them know I am okay.

Before long, he turns into the driveway of a good-sized three-story wooden beach house. He leads me toward the single door to the house and presses the button to close the garage.

“Is this your home?”

He shakes his head. “Nope, but it belongs to a good friend of mine. He lets me stay here in exchange for checking in on the place once a month.”

I nod and enter when he holds open the door. The inside is beyond my expectations. White fluffy couches with blue pinstripes greet me as I look over the open floor plan. A simple navy-colored ottoman is centered between the couches with a serving tray on top where a couple of remotes sit with several magazines perfectly fanned out. A widescreen TV is nestled in the middle of an entertainment center that runs across the entire left-hand wall. Books mixed with large conch shells and artsy pieces fill the shelves surrounding it. The kitchen is to the right, and I can already see that the stainless steel appliances are top-notch. Several hanging lamps dot above the island with an ocean-meets-earth mosaic printed across the blown glass. Everything I see is amazing, but nothing beats the floor-to-ceiling windows along the back wall.

The room comes up into a church-point steeple with dark wooden beams highlighting the view. Each of the beams comes down around a geometric presentation of the ocean beyond. The ocean in all its wonder and glory can be seen clearly as far as the eye can see. I walk over to the windows in awe of the breathtaking view.

“Spectacular, isn’t it?” Eli comes up next to me, standing shoulder to shoulder. “It never gets old.”

I sigh. “I can’t imagine it does.”

He wraps his hand around my wrist and runs his fingers down to where I’m clutching my bag. “I’ll take this to our room.”

Our room.

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