It's Just Love (14 page)

Gage’s mind went blank.

“I asked why you thanked the deity.”

Gage drew a breath and stopped. A silence surrounded them;
he couldn’t hear traffic outside or the wind blowing through the concrete
tiers. The world seemed to have shrunk to him and Tom—
if that’s really his
name
.

“It is my name, more or less
,
” Tom said, as if he’d
heard the thought.

“Stop that!” Gage shouted, completely at a loss.

“Then?” Tom demanded his answer.

“I thanked God because my car wasn’t vandalized or stolen
during the night.” He winced.

“That’s sad.” Tom moved closer, and Gage stumbled back a
step. He
was
taller, and wider shouldered and…did he have wings? Gage’s
breath caught in his throat. “You spend the night with a woman like that—she
makes you her first, and you’re worried about your car? A heap of metal and
glass and leather that can be replaced in a moment by your insurance company?”

He froze on the sidewalk. If it had been stolen or
damaged…what? Sudden rage shot through his veins and he surged forward. “How do
you know what we did? And how the fuck do you know I was her first?” He lifted
his fists and struck out, but hit nothing but air. At a burst of laughter, he
faced the other way.

“That’s it, fight for her. You know she’s worth it.”

Gage punched again, but the angel disappeared again. He was
nowhere to be found, but his voice floated on the breeze that had just kicked
up again.

“I just wanted to make sure you understood the gift she gave
you. And the gift you are to her. Go and think about it, but tonight…don’t show
up tonight unless you’re prepared to accept it.”

He searched around the car and the ones nearby, even got on
his hands and knees to peek under a van. Tom was gone. Gage was angry,
terrified, shocked, and confused, not in that order. Hands shaking, he clicked
his door opener and tumbled into the low seat, anxious to put the experience
behind him. Maybe he’d imagined the whole thing, a hallucination caused by lack
of sleep. He took a swallow of latte and stared at the cup in his hand.

It was real, although what version of reality he could not
say. But he had soul searching to do. And Tom, or whoever he was, had a point.
Gage couldn’t use Coral anymore. If he didn’t plan to offer her more, a
relationship, a life together, he had to walk away. Zero factors and he thought
he might be falling in love. He drove as fast as he could, away from Venice and
Coral and that crazy guy with wings.

Date number three was on his sailboat, and if he wasn’t
going to be there, he’d have to arrange for a crew.

Coral trudged back across the sand. She zipped her hoodie
and shivered. It wasn’t particularly cold, but a chill haunted her, had since
she’d headed out, torn and confused. She’d broken her own cardinal rule, come
between a man and a woman who had a committed relationship, and thrown her
virginity into the mix. The only one who had come close to her bed was Sid, and
his long decline and death had shut her down. He had left her with no desire to
find a man. She’d only been twenty when he died, and that wasn’t too horrible
an age to be still untried in the bedroom. Twenty-three was laughable.

Was that why she’d done it? Thrown herself into the arms of
a man who turned her on and then claimed the Goddess made her do it? She dug
her toes into the cool sand with each step, wanting and not wanting to face
him. What could she say that would make it all right? At least he didn’t know
it was her first time, although her inexperience must have been obvious.

Her dark and confusing thoughts stayed with her all the way
to her house and through the gate. She pushed the door open and called out,
“I’m back.” She expected him to emerge from the kitchen or maybe the bathroom,
but the house remained quiet and she tried again, softer. “Gage?”

He was gone. She knew it, even before she paced from room to
room. She remembered her note and scooted into the kitchen. Maybe he’d added to
it, left a few words—
see you tonight? Call you later? Thanks for a good
time?
But no, the paper remained under the mug and not a syllable more
greeted her eyes.
The bastard used me!

No, he hadn’t. She’d used him, and he was probably even now
confessing his sin to his real girlfriend and begging her forgiveness. Their
night together may have caused permanent harm to his relationship.

Coral sank into a chair and poured the fragrant tea, still
warm from the earthenware pot. She clutched the mug in both hands, breathing
the steam and seeking comfort. But there was none to be found, not in the
beverage or in the dozen cookies she followed it with. They were store bought; she
hadn’t had a chance to replenish her cookie jar, which meant they came without
the extra happy whammy she spelled into her private stock. But they were
chocolate chip and did pretty well on their own—usually.

Full to bursting, she glanced at the clock and sighed. Mrs.
Hanrahan would be there in an hour, and she needed a shower and a few moments
to prepare for her. If the spell she’d given her the previous week hadn’t
worked, or if it had worked too well, she’d have to face a very unhappy woman,
a lot like herself at the moment.

The day dragged on and on. Coral met with three clients,
passed out charms and spells, swept the floor, and dusted her gods and
goddesses, anything to get the day to pass. Finally, all that remained was the
arrival of Mrs. Hanrahan, who was late.

If she didn’t arrive soon, Coral would have no time to
shower and change. Just as she decided the woman had forgotten her appointment,
the bell rang. Coral opened the door, ready to hurry the woman along, but to
her great surprise, she faced not only her client, but a rotund, older man in a
tropical shirt and shorts. Mrs. Hanrahan clutched his hand and beamed.

“Hello, Coral, I just came by today because my husband
wanted to meet you.”

Coral’s mind flew over her earlier phone conversations with
the woman. She’d raved about her handsome mate and what a babe magnet he was. She
knew he was a successful businessman, but other than that? A typical, balding
fellow in his late fifties, with a big smile and eyes only for his wife.

“I wanted to thank you, young woman,” he said.

“Please come in.”

“No, dear, we can’t.” Mrs. Hanrahan giggled, and Coral
stared. The woman seemed twenty years younger. “We only wanted to thank you for
helping us.” As Coral tried to decide how to respond, Mrs. Hanrahan waved her
free hand. “I told Glenn all about you and what you said about noticing me.
Honey, that was all it took. I assumed he was running around because he came
home late all the time, but he really was working like he said.”

Glenn Hanrahan pried his fingers free and shook Coral’s
hand. “That’s right. I never cheated on my wife. But I did take her for
granted, and when she told me what you said about noticing her…I did! No more
of that plastic surgery for my baby. She has always been the prettiest girl
ever.”

He wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulders and smiled
down at her with such love in his gaze, Coral’s heart ached.

“And I’m not going to work such hours anymore, either. I’ve
slaved all my life to make enough money for us to enjoy ourselves, and now is
the time we’re going to do it.”

His wife leaned into him, and their combined auras shone
rose-pink around them. “We’re going to plan our ’round-the-world cruise now,
aren’t we, dear?”

“That’s right, about time I had my baby to myself.”

The pair waved and left, while Coral stood gape-jawed in the
doorway. Happy for them but, as the warmth faded, sorry for herself.

She would show up at for the third date, only because she
never broke her word, and she hoped for a private moment to say goodbye. Although
on a little boat with Elise and Charlie and their two camera people, it might
be difficult. It’d be less awkward than expressing her raw emotions on
television when they came back to make their return visit to Harry’s show. They
would have little to share, having lost the other couple both times they’d
followed them. On the other hand, they’d be on the sailboat with them all
evening where they couldn’t get away.

She glanced at the clock to find she had less than two hours
remaining before she was to meet the others at the dock in Marina del Rey. He’d
said something about being on the water at sunset, so they were going out
around four. She would arrive a little early. Gage would have to prepare the
boat, right? Despite her wish to sail around the world, she had little
experience with boats larger than the catamarans her friends launched into the
surf. But even those required some prep time. She’d be on the dock a half hour
beforehand and hope he was there too.

Showered, she stood in front of the mirror, wrapped in a
towel. Pulling a wide comb through her hair, she considered how to style it,
what to wear…and what to say to the man who had taken her virginity, all
unknowing, the night before.

Her hair was easy. She plaited the damp length into a single
braid and let it hang down her back. The wind would wreak havoc with any other
choice. A little mascara and gloss—she didn’t need more to say goodbye. She
drifted into the bedroom and found a pair of white Capri pants and a striped t-shirt.
A hoodie for after the sun went down.

His girlfriend was probably polished, lovely, and had
perfectly pedicured toes. Coral sat on the bed to put on her deck shoes and
stared at her feet. She fumbled in the nightstand drawer, pushing aside the
partially empty box of condoms, and dug out a bottle of pink nail polish.
Stroking it over her toenails, she found satisfaction in the fact that the
beach sand kept her feet silky smooth.

She leaned back on her elbows, waiting for the polish to
dry. What would she say to him? Casual?
It was fun, but just one of those
things.
Face saving?
I guess we both just got carried away.
Honest?
I’m
glad my first time was with you, and I hope you don’t hate me for getting you
to cheat on your girlfriend.

Her heart sank into the pit of her belly. Her first time—and
she’d ruined it by experiencing it with someone else’s someone. She’d go and
apologize to his Geena—except that would make his life harder. No, there was a
fourth way to handle the situation.

Sick to her stomach, she tied her shoes and grabbed her
purse and hoodie, ready to face the music and her one-time lover.

* * * *

Gage’s afternoon flew. His spotty presence at his office the
past two days had led to a pileup of messages and correspondence needing his
attention. No less tired than he’d been, he still had to deal with the most
important of the items, along with his regular clients and an emergency visit
from a couple whom Aaron referred—the son of a judge and his sweetheart who
wanted to marry as soon as possible. The important man wanted to know if his
son and the exotic dancer he loved would succeed as a couple.

Rather, he wanted Gage to tell them to part. He should have
no difficulty with this. They couldn’t possibly have very many of the factors
in common. But when they arrived and sat on his office couch, hips touching,
fingers laced together, they did not even give him a chance. He joined them,
sitting in the armchair, notebook and pen in his lap.

“Good morning, Doctor.” The young man—barely in his early
twenties—looked him in the eye, unwavering. “Let’s get this over with.”

The girl clinging to him as if he were the only thing
keeping her upright nodded, but did not add anything to what her boyfriend
said. She wore a little more makeup than a preppy family would like to see, and
her hair was an improbable shade of pinkish blonde.

Gage chose his words with care. “I need to ask you some
questions, determine whether you are compatible.”

“No.” The young man wrapped an arm around the girl’s
shoulders. “No questions.”

“But how else can I learn whether you are right for one
another?”

“With all due respect, Dr. Middleton, we’re not interested
in your opinion of our relationship. We love one another. We are getting
married, no matter what you report to my father.”

Gage was stunned. “Then why are you here?”

“My mother asked us to come. Father promised her that if you
issued a positive report, he would give us his blessing. If he does not, it
will cause my mother a great deal of pain. Father will, in all likelihood,
disown me, or at least shut me out of his life for a long time to come.”

“So, you’re requesting that I say you meet all the factors, whether
you do or not?”

“I don’t care how you say it, but we
are
getting
married. If you state that we are likely to succeed in that endeavor, Father
will have to agree.”

Gage closed his notebook and tossed it on the coffee table.
“Let’s be candid. Peter, I’m sure you know your father does not approve of
Rita.”

“He’s made that clear.”

“And he wants me to convince you that you won’t make it, so
you will break up.”

“Right.” Peter tightened his arm around his girlfriend, who
dropped her head to his shoulder, but held Gage’s gaze with wide blue eyes,
heavily outlined in kohl. “And had you planned to do that?”

Gage straightened in his chair. “Of course not. But I
understand you come from different backgrounds and have very little in common.
You must know my factors are based on compatibility. How can you be compatible,
the son of a judge and a stripper?”

Rita yanked away and stood. “A stripper? Is that what that
old man told you? I’m with Cirque du Soleil. I’m an acrobat and a trained
dancer.”

Peter reached for her and drew her back against him. “So you
see what we’re up against.”

Gage sighed. “Well, I was told she was an exotic dancer—which
is generally shorthand for stripper.” Coral’s face filled his mind. What did
they have in common? Yet his heart lit up the moment he saw her. Her beauty,
grace, kind heart…and she made him laugh. He’d caressed her satin skin for
hours, memorizing each curve because he’d never expected have another
opportunity.