Lush (7 page)

Okay Kirsten was
definitely still the same old Kirsten. “Hey, how did your date with
Finch go? I was kinda worried when I saw that he was there because
I know he’s your type. Please tell me you didn’t make him fall in
love with you.”

“Don’t worry, girl. I
remember the rule you imposed on me after I screwed things up with
your stupid project manager. Thus it goes without saying that I did
not unleash my irresistible charm on Finch.”

Phew
, that was
cause for relief. “Thanks Kirst. Did he mention anything about
work? Maybe something that I should know.” Like resenting that she
wasn’t giving him the design freedom and promotion that he was
chomping at the bit for.

“Anyone ever told you
you’re manically nosy? All I’m sharing with you is that he loves
working at InVision. As for me, I think he’s really nice. It’s kind
of hard to reconcile the guy I spoke to with the pain in the ass
you’re always whining about.”

“I hope you didn’t let
that slip.”

“You bet I did. He’ll
be quitting next week.”

“Ha-ha.”

“So,” Kirsten
continued, her voice starting to rise with renewed excitement.
“Tell me more about you and my gorgeous brother. What did you crazy
kids get up to after I abandoned you sports lovers for round
two?”

“We played a few Wii
games.”

“Ooh, did you play Call
of Duty? You totally dominate at Call of Duty.”

“Actually we played
tennis and golf.”

“Who won?”

“Me of course.”

“I’ll bet you a bottle
of vintage Bollinger that he let you win.”

Julia smiled to herself
and shook her head even though Kirsten couldn’t see. “I know he let
me win.”

“And you still want to
tell me that tonight’s date is just friendly? Admit it, you’re hot
for him and he’s obviously hot for you.”

“Kirst, to be totally
honest I don’t know what tonight’s date is. And FYI, I’m not hot
for him.” Okay, she was totally hot for him, but she wasn’t blinded
by the attraction. She wasn’t a naïve teenager anymore.

“Oh come on. You are
sooo
hot for him.”

“No, no I’m not. I like
him but I’m not an idiot. His divorce was only finalised half a
year ago and it probably left him with all sorts of issues. I can
understand and respect that, but I won’t be some kind of rebound
fling while he finds himself. I’m worth more than that.”

“Of course you are,”
Kirsten rushed to reassure her. “But like I told you when he got
divorced, he never loved Allison-the-Whore. He only married her
because she lied about being pregnant with his kid.”

“You don’t know that
she lied,” Julia argued. Sure, she knew as well as anyone that
Allison had spun a big one, but someone had to play Devil’s
advocate.

More importantly, she
couldn’t let Kirsten talk her into letting her guard down where
Michael was concerned. It was dangerous and she still carried the
emotional scars to prove it. She couldn’t even have a simple
conversation with or about him without getting her hackles up.

Kirsten snorted nice
and loud. “Oh please. She rushed him to the altar and then suddenly
miscarried just three weeks later. And let’s not forget how
convenient it was for her that it apparently happened on location.
Everyone knows that her doctor is corrupt at best. I bet you she
slept with him to get him to corroborate her story. They played my
brother and deep down he knew it, but he was determined to try and
make the marriage work even if it killed him.”

“Even if she did lie,
he must have loved her to stay with her. He would not have married
her if he hadn’t felt something for her.”

“Then you obviously
don’t know my brother very well. Think about it Jules, his father
left our mom when she fell pregnant with him. He never wanted to be
like that asshole. Mike is honourable and when he gives his word he
won’t break it without a damned good reason. Hell, he’d probably
still be married to that viper if he hadn’t caught her sexing her
personal trainer in his own bed. Forget all the other stuff I
sometimes say about him. That’s just sisterly teasing and some
pent-up resentment because he had the balls to go out there and
blaze his own trail rather than fall into the family business like
I did. He is the best and most principled guy I know. If we were
Catholic I’d probably ask the Pope to make him a saint.”

“Geez, Kirst. Are you
trying to pressure me here?”

“No,” she declared
fiercely. “I’d never do that. I’m just trying to tell you to be
open. If you like him, give him a chance. If you don’t, then don’t.
Just please, whatever you do don’t hurt him deliberately. He’s
really very sensitive deep down and he’s been through enough in the
past year.”

Sensitive? That was a
crock of shit. If only Kirsten knew about how her
sensitive
brother had once deliberately hurt her. How he’d strung her along
all those years ago only to humiliate her and break her too young
heart. But she had never told Kirsten about that night and this was
not the time for that kind of revelation.

“Jules, you still
there?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Look,
I know you love your brother and you want to see him happy, but I
can’t make myself date him just because you think we should.”

“Why not? You’d be so
good for each other and I can’t believe you don’t see it. I don’t
get your attitude and ambivalence. There was a time when you would
have killed to have him look at you the way he looked at you the
other night.”

“I was a kid, Kirst.
I’ve kind of grown up since then. Besides, your brother is a
player. He’s been in the society section of the local papers every
week since he opened Lush, and never with the same woman.”

“That’s just for
publicity. He doesn’t sleep with them.”

“And you know this
how?”

“I know my brother.
Underneath the public persona he’s pitifully old-fashioned. Just
like you.”

“What’s that supposed
to mean?” Julia demanded indignantly. She wasn’t sure if she was
more offended on her behalf or Michael’s.”

“It means that you both
consider a wedding ring, two point five kids, and a white picket
fence the pinnacle of happiness.”

Okay, she could concede
Kirsten’s point but, “That’s all the more reason for me to keep
things light. Your brother is probably rebounding from a lost dream
and shattered trust. That is much harder than rebounding from a
failed marriage.”

“Give me a break,”
Kirsten argued, her voice oozing frustration. “My brother would
never use you to get over anyone or anything. He’s always cared
about you. He never once failed to ask about you and your folks
when he’d check in. Even after he married Hurricane Allison.”

That was news. “Why did
you never tell me?”

“What was the point?
You were angry with him for leaving to study abroad and you refused
to visit with me every single time I invited you. Besides, he was
off having adventures and building up one successful club after
another, trying to prove himself to Dad, trying to find his own
place in the world outside Dad and Aunt Betty’s tremendous sphere
of influence. He wasn’t ready for you, and you were, and remain,
too stubborn to settle for less than everything.”

“Bullshit! Every
relationship I’ve ever had was essentially casual. I’m not looking
for anything more. I’m not ready to settle down yet!”

How the hell had what
should have been a simple conversation turned so damned long and
complicated?

Kirsten actually had
the nerve to sound superior as she said, “That’s because you’ve
never had a relationship with someone who you could truly fall in
love with. My brother is different. He always was.”

“Good grief, chick.
Take off the fucking My-brother-is-perfect coloured glasses and
toss out the pompoms. He’s just like every other man: Three X
chromosomes and one that can’t stop asking why!”

Kirsten burst out
laughing then had the cheek to say, “Jules, that is a lame attempt
at funny. Stop now, before you hurt yourself. And my brother was
never just like any other guy to you. You were madly in love with
him once and I’ve seen the way you look at his pictures when they
show up in club publicity shoots and events.”

“I barely glance at
them!” Okay, so she more than glanced.

A loud snort brought
her out of her disturbing thoughts. “Oh please, Julia. You
scrutinise them like you’re trying to commit every detail to
memory. Just do me a favour; even if you can’t be honest with me,
be honest with yourself.”

“Fine.”

“Will you call me
tomorrow and tell me how your date went?”

“Oh bravo, Ms
Suggestive-Persuasion. I really like the way you threw
date
in there. Nevertheless, I promise I’ll call you tomorrow and tell
you all about how the baseball game went even though I know you
don’t give a damn.”

“Well no, I don’t care
about softball, but I do care about you and Mike so feel free to
tell me about that.”

“It’s baseball.”

“It’s boring.”

“If you would just try
to understand it you’d–”

The line went dead.

***

Michael wasn’t sure
what he was more exited about: getting to watch the Midsummer
Classic with a fellow baseball fan who he used to love attending
ball games with, or that he was going to spend a few hours in the
company of a beautiful woman who could care less about who he was
and what she could get out of him. Actually he knew exactly what he
was exited about. He was going to be hanging out with Julia. She
wasn’t just a baseball fan. She wasn’t just a beautiful woman. She
was Julia.

When he pulled up in
front of her apartment building on his motorbike she was already
waiting in the lobby, chatting merrily to the middle-aged doorman.
On seeing him she excused herself and came to greet him with a
raised brow.

“Two things Mike,” she
said sternly before he even had a chance to remove his helmet.
“First, you are over half an hour late. Second, you are on a
motorbike.”

“Yeah, about that, I’m
late because my car had a flat and as it turned out the spare was
flat too. Getting it repaired would have delayed me even more and I
couldn’t get a new tire even though I called three different
places. That’s the real downside of British classics.” He gave her
what he hoped was a remorseful smile and added, “Second, I figured
the bike was the best alternative because we can make up for lost
time. Besides, after what you told me about how you enjoyed riding
the Harley with your dad, I figured this might be kind of fun.”

She eyed his red and
black BMW R90S dubiously. “Only that isn’t a Harley, Mike, it’s a
sports bike and there are no long stretches of open road between
here and the stadium. Also, you are not my dad. Tell you what, I’ll
go down to the garage and bring out my MV Agusta F4 since she’s
been sitting idle for almost a month. I’ll meet you at the
stadium.”

Michael was blown away.
“You have an Italian superbike?”

“Yep.” She shrugged
like it was no big deal. “Got her real cheap at an auction after
she was almost totalled in a shipping accident. My folks helped me
restore her. It was a bonding thing.”

He half chuckled at
that. Both Julia’s parents had been surgeons; so maybe putting
bikes back together in retirement was a natural progression. “Nice.
My folks and I usually bond in the study when they invite me over
to discuss real-estate ventures.”

“Each to their own, I
guess. Hey, maybe after the game we can take our bikes out on the
I-87 and let them clear their lungs. What do you say?”

“Honey, I’d love
nothing more than to see you straddling one of those machines while
you make me eat your dust, but why don’t you just ride with me like
we planned? I even stopped on my way over and got you this.” He
climbed off his bike and rested his helmet on the gas tank then
unclipped a spare from the back bar and held it out to her. “And I
got you insulation.” He unzipped his jacket and pulled out a sleek,
pearlescent green and black leather jacket that he knew would look
good on her. Couldn’t go wrong with colours that matched her eyes
and raven hair.

She ignored the jacket,
but studied the matching helmet doubtfully. “Very nice, but it
might not fit.”

“Sure it will, unless
your head has gotten bigger in the last ten years. My old spare
used to fit you just fine.”

Julia handed back the
headgear with a snort and muttered, “We’ll see.” Then she removed
her baseball cap and braided her long hair as he watched,
thunderstruck.

Her movements were
drawing her already tight top even tighter over her perfect
breasts. He couldn’t ‘LOOK UP!’ if his life depended on it, but he
could look down. Oh yeah, he could certainly do that. He could look
down at her now exposed midriff; adorned with a simple, silver
belly ring that he wanted to tease with his tongue. At her denim
clad thighs and long, long legs that he yearned to feel wrapped
around his flanks. At her simple back and white All-Star canvas
shoes.

He chuckled at that
last bit.

All-Stars? Were they an
expression of Julia’s game-day sense of humour, or just a choice
made for comfort? He didn’t care. She looked as amazing in sneakers
as she did in sky-high heels. She’d look even better barefoot.
Better still completely naked, spread out on satin sheets with his
mouth working between her thighs.

God, that visual was
all kinds of stimulating.

He felt his blood march
south to a steady cadence and his jeans grow tight. Thankfully his
brain still had enough left-over circulation for him to appreciate
that Julia would probably take serious offence at the party
happening in his pants and he lowered her jacket and helmet to
cover up.

Once she was done she
noticed him giving her the slow sweep and sent him a withering
look. “Eyes up, Soldier.”