A Gentleman's Affair (3 page)

I pack a few things in a small duffle bag
and decide to head up north for the weekend. As I drive up the
coast, my mind drifts off. I think about all of the trips that I
took to Carmel with my parents before my mom died, and I decide to
go there. We always stayed at the same place, went to the same
restaurants, and did the same things. I’ll call for a reservation
when I pull off the road for breakfast in Santa Barbara. 

I walk into Backyard Bowls, the place where
we’d always stop to eat on our way to Carmel, and the memories of
the times spent here come flooding back. Bittersweet, to say the
least. I’m quickly seated, although the place is crowded as it
always was, and already knowing exactly what I want, I give
the server my order before reaching into my coat pocket for my cell
phone to call The Carriage House in Carmel to make my
reservation.

The last time that I was here with my
parents, my mom was still alive. That was seven years ago. She died
in a car accident four months after our last trip up the coast. I
can’t seem to get Dad out of the house these days. He has become a
recluse…sad and lonely. Mom was the love of his life and thinking
about their relationship makes me want what they had even more.

I finish my breakfast and pay the check.
It’s time to get back on the road. Driving along Pacific Coast
Highway has always been one of my favorite things to do. There’s
just something about the beach that is extremely calming—it’s
always been my “happy place”, I guess you could say.

I notice, just up ahead, a car with the
emergency lights flashing and a woman leaning against her car,
talking on her cell phone. I pull over just behind her car and get
out of my Hummer to see if she needs help.

“Do you need a hand?” I ask as I approach
her, trying not to notice that she is a complete knock-out. Tall,
long brown hair…extremely nice ass. Fuck, Donovan, focus. Help her
with her car and leave.

“Yes, thank you so much.” She ends her call
and walks towards me, a look of relief suddenly appears on her
face. “It just died, and I can’t find anyone to come and help me at
the moment.” She follows me to the front of the car and I
immediately pop the hood.

“Let’s see what we’ve got here...” I take a
look at the engine and start by jiggling a few hoses, then I check
the cables, doing my best to act like I know what the hell I’m
doing. “Why don’t you get in and try to start it up again?” She
turns the key a few times and…nothing. It’s dead. Taking a
handkerchief from my pocket to wipe the grease from my hands, I
start walking back to my Hummer.

“Let me grab my jumper cables and try that
next,” I say as I pass by her car. I get into my Hummer and pull it
around to the front of her car and then jump out, walking around to
the back to fish out my jumper cables.

“You’re going to have to have it
towed if this doesn’t work.” I pop the hood of my Hummer,
attaching the cable to the battery, then walk to her car attaching
the other end to her battery. “Do you have AAA?” She shakes her
head no, then steps away for a moment making a call.

“You’re going to have to start it up for
me.” So could you get the fuck off of the phone? Like I have time
for this shit. 

I get back into my Hummer and start the
engine, waiting impatiently. After revving it up a few times to get
her attention, she looks back at me and mouths, “I’m sorry,”
then she quickly shoves her phone into the back pocket of her
cut-off shorts before getting into her car.

She tries to start it up a few times and
still nothing. It’s definitely dead. She is now shaking her head,
hitting the steering wheel and yelling out, “Fucking piece of
shit!” Even with the space between us, which includes two
windshields, I still heard loud and clear.

After removing the jumper cables from both
of our vehicles, I glance at the time on my watch as I walk over to
her car to see what else I could do to help. “Do you have anybody
that you could call?” She says “No” in a low voice as she shakes
her head. Shit, she looks as though she’s about to cry.

Christ…I just want to get to the Carriage
House and enjoy my much-needed weekend of R&R. I’m lucky to
even get the time away, as the hotel is always busy, and there
always seems to be some kind of fire to put out there. But I can’t
just leave her here, so I offer to give her a ride into town.

“I live in Lompoc. My exit is just a few
miles ahead.” Her voice is soft and sweet…very sweet. She does seem
extremely grateful, so I decide to stop acting so annoyed. “Thank
you so much for doing this. I don’t know what I would’ve done if
you hadn’t come along.”

“It’s no problem, really.” I turn my head
and give her a smile, trying hard not to check her out, but
damn…she is gorgeous. 

“I’m Donovan, by the way. What’s your name?”
Eyes on the road Donovan. You’re just going to drop her off and
leave…remember?

“I’m Gina.” I can hear the smile in her
voice, even though I resist turning to look. “Take the next exit,
then you can just drop me off at the gas station. I’ll show you
when we pull off. Where are you heading to by the way?” 

“I’m going to Carmel for the weekend—just a
quick trip for a little R&R.” I glance over to her,
smiling.

“That sounds like fun,” she replies.

“I can take you to your house…I don’t mind,
Gina.” I veer off of the 101, taking the exit that she pointed
out.

“That’s okay. I live close by. I can just
walk from there.”

“If you’re sure…” I shrug my shoulders and
decide to drop it.

“It’s that one, right there.” She points at
the gas station up ahead on the right side of the road. I pull into
the gas station and I find it extremely odd that she wouldn’t let
me take her to her house…but I am a stranger, so I let it go.
“Thanks so much for everything Donovan. I really appreciate
it.” 

“It was my pleasure, Gina. I just wish I
could’ve gotten your car started.” I smile, watching as she gets
out. She takes a pen and small notepad from her purse and begins to
write something down. She tears off the piece of paper and hands it
to me, smiling.

“Here’s my number. Call me if you’d like to
maybe meet for lunch on your way back.” 

After checking in at the Carriage House, I
decide to get in a game of golf before the sun sets. Dad and I have
had a membership at the Quail Lodge Golf Club for years, and this
is one of the things that we always did when we’d come up here. Mom
would go shopping while Dad and I had our father-son time, then
we’d all meet up for dinner in town.

Coming here for the last seven years by
myself since Mom died has been strange, but I just can’t get
Dad to do anything since the accident. I don’t think that he’ll
ever recover. Not that I can blame him. She was the love of his
life. She was his best friend. I only hope to have that kind of
relationship one day.

I arrive at Anton and Michel’s, the
restaurant that’s located in the Plaza where Mom would always do
her shopping. I’m warmly greeted by Tony, the owner. He’s an older
gentleman and the friendliest guy that you’d ever want to meet. He
explains that his wife is out sick and would be sorry that she
missed me. He asks about Dad as he personally escorts me to a table
outside in the courtyard, where we all loved to sit when we came
here every year.

“Dad’s…the same. I tried to get him to come,
but he’s just not ready.” I take a seat and we exchange a look that
ends the conversation. He understands about Dad.

“I’ll have Marie bring over a bottle of
Château d’Yquem, right away. God it’s good to see you, kid.” He
pats my back then goes off to find Marie, a woman who has worked
here for as long as I can remember.

Looking over the menu, I see a few new items
listed, and I decide that I should change things up—maybe try
something new this trip.

Marie greets me with a smile as she leans
down to give me a hug. “It’s good to see you Donovan. How’s your
dad?” She fills my glass, and we have a short conversation about
Dad, the hotel and her latest man problems. After we share a laugh
she asks if I know what I want.

“I’m going to try the American Kobe Beef
Short Ribs, with the Grilled Castroville Artichoke to start.” I
close the menu and hand it to her.

“Something different for a change, huh?” She
winks, laughing softly. “You’ll love it—it’s one of my favorites.
I’ll have that right out for you, Donny.”

Donny…I can’t remember the last time someone
has called me that, and I can’t believe that she even remembered
that nickname. Mom called me that as a child and it stuck. Pretty
soon everyone called me that, but as I grew up people started going
back to my given name.

“Thank you, Marie.” I lift my glass to my
mouth and take a drink. After the week I’ve had, this…tastes
good. 

The first two glasses of wine go down pretty
quickly. Sara soon arrives with my meal, and she joins me as she
has done in past years, sharing a glass of wine and some good
conversation. She’s in her early forties, married with a couple of
kids, and loves to sail, just like I do. We always talk about going
out on my yacht when her and her family get down south, but they
never seem to find the time. Maybe one day.

Dinner was incredible as always. I couldn’t
help but think of all of the good times that we’ve had here and how
weird it has been these past years coming here alone. But I hope
that one day I’ll be bringing my own family here…

I say my goodbyes to my small Carmel family
here at the restaurant and head back to the hotel to get a swim in
before I turn in for the night. I pull the cuff of my sleeve back
and check my watch for the time. Nine thirty, perfect…the pool
closes at ten.

After breakfast I go for a long run along
the beach. I’ve got so many things on my mind lately, it’s always
nice to get out of L.A. for a couple of days and clear my head. No
matter where I’m at or what I’m doing, there always seems to be a
long checklist running through my mind: the upcoming redecorating
of La Fuga, the new hotel in Vegas, employees…women. It’s a regular
meeting of the minds in there.

After a quick shower, I pack my small bag
and prepare to go back to Malibu. I hear a beep alert coming from
my cell, and I see that it’s a text from my assistant, Patrice,
reminding me that I have an appointment with Scarlett Montgomery
tomorrow morning. Who? I think to myself. I return the text and
ask. I’m busy, so it’s not uncommon that I forget a meeting now and
again that was set up well in advance. “The decorator for La Fuga,”
Patrice immediately texts back. Oh shit…that’s right. I return her
text letting her know that I’ll be back later on today.

As I place the last item of clothing into my
leather duffle bag, I see the piece of paper that Gina had given me
as I dropped her off yesterday sticking out of the back pocket of
the jeans that I had on. I pull it out, looking at her number and
thinking about how gorgeous she was. I fold the paper in half and
shove it into the back pocket of my jeans. 

I will be driving past her town right around
lunch time. Maybe I’ll call her. She was the one who suggested it
actually…and you never know where and when you might meet “the
one”.

I stop for gas and decide: What the fuck,
call her. I pull my phone from my pocket along with the piece of
paper and punch in her number.

She answers. I clear my throat before
speaking. “Gina, it’s Donovan Hart…from yesterday?”

“Oh, sure…hey Donovan. How’s your weekend
going?”

“Well, it was great…over too soon, as
usual.” I laugh as I reply. “I’ll be passing by around 1:00. Would
you still care to meet for lunch?” 

She doesn’t answer right away. Instead I
hear a voice in the background, muffled by what I can only guess is
her hand covering the phone. “Sorry about that…and yes, I’d love
that. Meet me at P.J.’s Deli on College?”

“Perfect, I know exactly where that is, so
I’ll see you in a bit.” I answer, as I remove the gas hose from my
tank and get back into my Hummer.

“I’ll see you at one.” And she quickly hangs
up.

That was weird.

I begin my drive back to Malibu, now
burdened with an uneasy feeling about that phone call. Maybe I’m
just becoming paranoid at this point…but red flags are red flags. I
could just go home. No harm, no foul. I don’t know the girl, but…if
I don’t take some chances, I might end up a lonely old bachelor
with a toupee still trying to find “the one”, but by then it’ll be
too late. Fuck it. I’ll just keep the lunch date.

I pull into P.J.’s parking lot looking for
her car. Realizing that it may still be broken down, I park and go
inside. There are two people sitting at the long bar on stools. No
sign of Gina, so I decide to go and wait outside for her.

After about ten minutes, she pulls up in her
car and parks. I walk over to meet her. She has a big smile on her
face as she gets out, closing the car door behind her. “Hey, you.”
She throws her arms around me and hugs me as she continues, “It’s
good to see you again.” 

I return the hug and the smile as I reply,
“I see you got your car running.”

“I did. It was the starter…or something, I
don’t know.” She laughs and begins to walk toward the deli.

And before I even have the chance to get
another word out, a man appears from the front of the building
yelling, “Hey asshole, get the fuck away from my wife!”

Wife? Christ, here we go.

I back away from Gina, my hands up in front
of me to motion for him to back the fuck off. “Hey, she never told
me that she was married,” I say. “Take this up with her.” I quickly
turn and walk back to my Hummer. 

“Not so fast, mother fucker.” I suddenly
feel a hand on my shoulder. He spins me around, and before I know
it, I have his fist coming toward my face. I block his punch, grab
his arm and twist it behind his back holding him in place.