Champagne Rules (19 page)

“We’re not having a relationship!” And he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell her about the playground, and what the cops had thought.

His mother gave an infuriating catlike grin. “I hear you, boy.” And, clearly, didn’t believe him.

He ground his teeth in frustration. “And when’s the last time you went on a date?”

The grin became wider. “Saturday.”

“You did?” Why had he thought his mother wasn’t dating?

“Who’s the guy? Someone special?”

She seesawed her hand. “Nice guy, just casual. We have some fun.”

Oh damn, she sure knew how to get back at him. “You never told me you were dating.”

“Didn’t know I had to clear it with my son,” she teased. He huffed out a breath. “Of course you don’t. But I thought . . .” That she was hanging around the house cooking meals, chatting with her lesbian tenants and being celibate. “I can see why you’d want some male company. Aside from mine.”

She reached over to squeeze his hand. “Jax, I’ve been dating ever since I was able to cut back on the hours I worked. Didn’t you know? Sure, a woman can use some male companionship every now and then.”

Did she mean sex? He
really
didn’t want to think about that.

“You’ve never introduced me to any of your dates.” Could he sound any more childish and whiny?

“You haven’t introduced me to yours. Likely for the same reason. They’re not serious, just casual fun.”

He wished she’d stop tossing his own words back at him. Was her idea of casual fun the same as his and Suzanne’s?

His mom was a beautiful, desirable woman. Why hadn’t he realized men would be after her? “You ever thought of getting married again?”

She shook her head firmly. “I’m used to my independence.”

Another thing the two of them had in common. The Awesome Foursome had chosen the SalaThai on Cambie for this week’s Monday dinner.

Suzanne was the last to arrive. She’d watched an emergency surgery on a Weimeraner that had been hit by a car, and was hyped up with excitement, relief that the dog would make it and anticipation of one day operating herself. On a normal night, she’d have been bursting to share all the gory details, but she guessed her friends had a different priority—i.e., sex. And yet, as she headed across the busy restaurant to the corner table they’d snagged, expecting sly grins and a lot of “wink, wink, nudge, nudge” comments—she instead saw serious expressions on Rina’s and Ann’s faces. Jenny looked annoyed.

“Something wrong?” Suzanne asked.

“Some people have a warped sense of perspective,” Jen said darkly.

Clearly, her friends had been arguing.

Rina reached out to pat her hand. “Why don’t you order a beer, Suze?”

“Good idea.” Had they been arguing over her and Jaxon, or were they on some completely different issue?

A slender Asian woman in a red Asian-style top and a black skirt with brocade trim took her order for a Singha.

“Jaxon is a beautiful man,” Rina said. “You didn’t tell us he looks like Denzel Washington.”

Ah, so that’s what Jenny’d meant on Saturday. “Does he? To me, he looks like Jaxon.”

“Denzel,” Jen said firmly. “When he was younger, of course.”

“Denzel’s still a damned attractive man,” Ann said. “Jaxon will age well too.”

Probably true, but what Jaxon would look like at forty, fifty, sixty wasn’t exactly relevant to Suzanne.

The waitress delivered her beer and Suzanne took a sip.

“Well, anyway,” Rina said, “the two of you are a wonderful looking couple. And I’m sure you had a great time, but . . .” She fiddled with a dangly, wire-and-bead earring. “The truth is, I’m worried about you.”

Suzanne smiled at her. “Thanks, but we’ve spent two evenings together now, and I’m pretty sure he’s not going to murder me.”

“Good to know,” Ann commented dryly.

“It’s your heart I’m concerned about,” Rina said.

“My heart isn’t involved. I told you, this is all about sex. Period. Just like Jen said. It’s my walk on the wild side.” She glanced toward Jenny, seeking her support.

“See, I told you!” Jenny waved a gem-studded pink fingernail at Rina. “Suze has her game plan all figured out. She knows what she’s doing.”

“Exactly. Jeez, guys, even my sister says I should sow some wild oats. I’m not looking for a husband, I want . . . a sex toy.”

Even as she said the words, she winced at the demeaning connotation. And yet that’s really what she and Jaxon were to each other.

She gazed into Rina’s worried brown eyes. “I’m not going to go and fall for him, honest.”

Her friend frowned. “This really is unlike you, Suze. You hardly ever date, you’ve got this whole plan about marriage and a family, you’re totally into your own family and your career. You’re not a sex toy kind of woman.”

She remembered the assorted condoms Jenny had given her, and grinned. “Suzanne the sexy twin is. And I like being her. Just for now, for a little while. My life plan hasn’t changed. The find-a-husband part was always targeted to start in a few years.”

Rina wasn’t grinning back. “I don’t want you to get hurt. Getting together with Jaxon once made sense, for fun and to test out that old Crete memory of yours, but now it’s turning into something different. You’re doing this romantic stuff, planning to see him next weekend. Suzie, you’re starting a relationship.”

“We’re not doing
romantic
stuff and it’s
not
a relationship. It’s sex, and I won’t get hurt. This is about my erogenous zones, and my heart isn’t one of them.” Suzanne glanced at Ann.

“You’re being unusually quiet tonight.”

Her friend looked tired and stressed, as if there might be more on her mind than just the Jaxon issue. Maybe a problem at work? Come to think of it, she’d sounded odd when they talked on the phone Saturday night.

Ann’s gaze slid away from her face, then, apparently with some effort, returned. “I’m with Rina. I’m afraid you’re getting in over your head.”

Suzanne shook her head. “I don’t get it. Last week you were all egging me on, so long as I was careful. What’s changed?”

“Yeah,” Jenny chipped in. “Give Suze a break, girls. You both helped write the ad, so no fair dumping on her now.”

Ann rubbed a hand across her forehead. “But Rina’s right. Once is different than an ongoing relationship. And”—she scowled at Suzanne—“don’t play semantics with me. Seeing a guy several times, having sex and talking, is a relationship. And this is a man you know next to nothing about. I think it’s time you found out some information.”

Although Suzanne had been growing increasingly curious about Jaxon, Ann’s words made her defensive. “It’s against the Champagne Rules.” She glanced toward Rina and Jenny.

“Jaxon and I have these Rules, about keeping things special. Bubbly and fizzy, you know. Not letting things get flat.”

“You do know those Rules don’t make any sense at all, right?” Ann said grimly. “Not to any sane person.”

“They make sense to Jaxon and me, and that’s all I care about.” She leaned forward to rest her hand on Ann’s. “Don’t you see, I want this to be different. I want to be different. I want to be champagne, not a cardboard box of table wine.”

“Yes, I’ve heard what you said.” Ann closed her eyes and kept them shut for a moment. “Okay.” She opened her eyes again. “I admit there’s a certain appeal to a relationship that doesn’t involve all those stupid trivial details of each other’s lives.”

“Well, I don’t,” Rina broke in, her voice soft but determined. “For me, I’m only going to invest time in a relationship if I can see it going somewhere. If I can see us getting to know each other better, growing closer, finding things to respect and admire about the other person, learning to trust—” She broke off, and gave an embarrassed shrug. “You get the picture.”

“And I agree,” Suzanne said. “That’s exactly what I want, when I start thinking about settling down. But that’s years off. I’m not ready.”

“You’ve got acres of wild oats to sow first,” Jenny said. “We all do.”

“I do understand,” Ann said, “and I’m not saying you need to find out his favorite color, or zodiac sign, or who his first grade teacher was. But don’t you at least want to know his address and home phone number? What he does for a living?”

The truth was, Suzanne did. But she also believed in the merit of the Champagne Rules. “It’s a slippery slope. Where do you draw the line? Besides, what would it change? I’ve spent two evenings with him, and I really don’t believe he poses a physical threat.” She smirked. “Except I’ve discovered muscles I never knew I had.”

“Way to go!” Jenny said.

“As for my heart,” Suzanne went on, “if you’re worried I’m going to get hurt, don’t you think there’s more likelihood of that happening if I really get to know the guy? You don’t fall in love with someone you just have sex with. You fall in love the way Rina said, by slowly getting to know him, and finding those things that are special about him and make your heart go all mushy.”

“That’s true.” Rina had a puzzled frown on her face, clearly not happy about agreeing.

“I still think you need to find out more about him—” Ann started.

“Okay, okay.” Jenny held up both hands. “Can we find a compromise? Suze, can’t you find out some stuff without it ruining the sex?”

“If I could think of a way, maybe I’d do it,” Suzanne confessed. “But if I ask him all those questions, then he’ll ask me about myself. If I start talking about my family and my job, I won’t feel sexy anymore. I’ll become . . .”

“Boxed wine,” Jenny said. “Nothing wrong with it, but it sure as hell doesn’t compare with champagne.”

After a moment, Rina said, “I guess this is one of the things we’re just not going to agree on. Speaking of rules, we have a rule for that, right?”

“We do,” Suzanne said with relief. “Agree to disagree, and leave it alone.”

She collected nods, then said, “Can we order now?”

“Yeah,” Jenny agreed. “Then I want to hear every single detail about your sexcapades.”

She beckoned their waitress, and soon they had fresh beer all around and were digging into an aromatic selection of curries, stir-fries and pad thai.

Suzanne had the others’ rapt attention as she related her weekend’s adventures with Jaxon. Even with considerable editing, she had to admit it sounded even spicier than the food they were consuming.

When she told them about her calamari-cock-ring comment, they laughed so hard all the other diners turned to look. 

“I don’t even know what a cock ring
is
,” Rina confessed in a whisper.

Suzanne added her own confession. “Neither do I, really, but I do read.” She glanced around. “Jenny? Ann? Any experience with them?”

Ann, who was still being unusually subdued, shook her head. Jen said, “This definitely calls for research. I feel a new article coming on.”

Suzanne carried on with the story, all the way to the smoldering kiss when Jaxon dropped her off where she’d parked the Miata.

“Awesome night,” Jenny said.

“Yeah.” Except . . . “There was only one kind of icky thing,” she said quietly.

Ann’s hand jerked and she spilled yellow curry on the tablecloth. “Sorry. Icky, Suze?”

“In the playground, I told you the cops came, but I left something out. They did this racial thing. Because Jaxon’s black and I’m white. They were pretty offensive about checking out whether it really was consensual sex.” She gave a strained laugh. “They even wondered if he was a pimp and I was one of his, uh, ladies.”

“A ‘ho’?” Jen said. “You?”

“That’s so obnoxious,” Rina said.

“Racial profiling,” Ann said. “Nasty.”

“Yeah.”

“How was Jaxon with it?” Ann asked.

“Not terribly surprised. He said he’s had worse happen.”

“I just bet he has.” The words were Jenny’s, and her tone was bitter.

They all stared at her.

“What?” she said. “It’s whacked, but it happens. He’s a person of color; of course it happens. Fuck, it happens to
me!
”

“Jen?” Suzanne said.

“Remember the SARS epidemic, and how it was associated with China and Chinese people? Well, I was driving into the States with a couple of friends—white friends—and
I
was the one who got taken inside at the border. It was my passport they checked and double-checked.”

“It happens to me too,” Rina said softly.

“You?” Suzanne said. “Because you’re Jewish? But you’re not even a practicing Jew.”

Rina shook her head. “No, it’s because I look . . . ethnic. Dark skin, curly black hair, big nose. People aren’t quite sure what I am. Could be Iraqi.”

“Shit,” Ann said. “This stinks.”

“How come you guys have never talked about this?”

Suzanne asked. “I feel so naïve for not having realized.”

Jenny and Rina exchanged glances. Jen shrugged. “It’s dirty. Who wants to talk about dirty stuff?”

Although they hadn’t the slightest qualm about discussing intimate details of sex.

But Jen was right, sex wasn’t dirty. Prejudice was.

“That’s what’s so great about you and Ann,” Rina said.

“Our skin color doesn’t matter in the slightest to you.”

“Let he who is without sin, cast the first stone,” Ann said quietly.

“Yeah, and do unto others, and all that stuff,” Jen agreed.

“You and Suze say you aren’t religious, but you
live
it, you know? You’re decent and caring, much more than a lot of those right-wing
supposed
Christians.”

“This is getting way too heavy,” Rina said. “Suze, I’m so sorry about what happened with the police. But if you’re going to keep seeing Jaxon, be prepared for things like that.”

“You don’t think that would stop me?”

Rina reached over to hug her. “Of course not. Isn’t that what Jenny just said?” Then she said, “It’s late. Time to head home.”

Quietly, they settled the bill and gathered up their belongings. Outside on the street, they exchanged hugs all around just as they always did. Except, tonight, the hugs were a little tighter.

Jenny and Rina headed off, then Suzanne dug out Ann’s car keys. “Time to trade cars again. It was sweet of you to let me have the Miata.”

“No problem.”

God, they were both so solemn.