Love on the Ledge Page 6

  That’s quickly replaced by Xandro’s chemically white one when I remember we’re having lunch today. If I was going to be forced to go on a date with someone I’m not interested in, then why don’t I just go out with someone I’m extremely attracted to? Sky Lopez, you did this to yourself, I think. I roll over in my bed and shove my head in a pillow.

  “Wakey wakey!”

  I turn to catch a ball of blonde hair cannonballing on me.

  “Ah, you dick.” I roll over, holding my side.

  “See, you don’t like it when someone wakes you up, do you?” she asks. River climbs up the fluffy mattress and cuddles up to my side. Her long legs are golden and soft. River has a way of making herself comfortable really quickly.

  “Your alarm isn’t scheduled to go off for another five hours.”

  “I never actually went to sleep,” she says. She presses her head in the pillow to avoid the question. That’s when I smell the cigarettes and whiskey on her. “I did something you’re going to love me for.”

  I groan and pull the cover over my head. “River,” I say by way of warning. “What did you do?”

  “Hey!” River takes her pillow and slams me over the head with it. “I do great things for you. I was hanging out at this house party and I met a guy who’s a chef. I told him we’d go to his restaurant and check it out for the wedding.”

  “That’s amazing. Damn, but I have lunch with Xandro. I just want to get it over with. Thanks for bailing on me yesterday, by the way.”

  River holds her hands up defensively. “Listen, there was no way I was getting involved in that mess. I’m already in the catering stuff. We’ll go after your lunch.”

  I open my closet and pull out a maxi dress that requires no effort. Maxi dresses are basically muumuus with better fabric and colors.

  River bats her sultry lashes at me. “I also happened to be outside when a strapping, shirtless man gave me this and asked me to deliver it to the Sleeping Beauty who slept so hard, she didn’t hear the rocks tapping at her window last night.”

  “Wait, what?”

  She grabs me by the shoulders. “Sky, don’t be an idiot. I love you, but I’m not going to watch you torture yourself for the rest of the summer. You’ve helped me when I needed you most. Now I’m going to do the same for you, in a different way.”

  She shoves the round white thing in my hands, presses a kiss on my cheek, and runs before I have time to react. I hold the white disk in my hand and turn it over. It’s a sand dollar. Smooth and white with black marker scrawled across the surface. At first, I’m not exactly sure what I’m looking at. But my heart reacts before my mind does. My stomach flutters and my chest gives a little squeeze. The black marker spells Hayden and his phone number.

  Chapter 11

  Margarita Grill is my favorite place off-season. They have bands come and play, and the locals come out of hiding after the Manhattenites and reality TV types leave. If the waitress didn’t recognize me from my solitary lunches, we’d have to wait an hour for a table. She appraises Xandro and gives me two thumbs up.

  I pull out my chair and sit across from where Xandro is already scanning the menu. Because of how crowded it gets during the summer, they add extra tables, which puts me back to back with the person sitting behind me.

  “What’s good here?” Xandro asks.

  “The Mexican street corn is great. It’s not actually street, but they try their best.”

  He smiles politely and nods. “I don’t eat corn or cheese.”

  I laugh because I think he’s joking, but when he looks confused, I realize he’s not kidding. Not one bit. Instead, I’m the joke. I’m the girl ambushed into a “lunch date” with a guy who probably remembers me from my time with braces.

  I order a glass of red wine and tap water.

  Xandro asks for a skinny margarita and switches out tap water for bottled sparkling water.

  “Red wine isn’t very good for your teeth,” he says playfully.

  I lick the front of my teeth and take the fat red wine glass the waitress places in front of me. “None of it is actually good for you. That’s not the point of drinking booze.”

  “What’s the point?” He sits back, arms languishing on the armrests with his tall, skinny margarita in hand.

  “The point is to get a buzz.”

  He shrugs, not agreeing or disagreeing. From the way he looks at his cuticles, then smoothes the wrinkles on his pants, to the way he settles his smoldering dark eyes back on me, I know there’s something cooking in his carefully styled pompadour.

  “So, how’ve you been since I saw you yesterday?” I say, placing the napkin across my legs and sitting back. “Are you liking the neighborhood?”

  He smirks at my cheekiness. “I’m great, actually. I’ve always wanted to rent a house out here for the summer. I spend most summers at my place in Florida, but I gave it to my mom two years ago.”

  “Yeah, must be a pain to bring over girls when your mom’s home.”

  He laughs into his drink, nearly snorting tequila. “You’ve gotten really blunt.”

  “How do you know I wasn’t always?”

  He turns his head from side to side. “I remember a little girl with braces that sparkled from across the hallway. She wore a long braid down her back, and the kids in the building called her Pocahontas. She wore men’s t-shirts and leggings before it was cool to wear leggings.”

  So he does remember me. I take a long sip from my wine glass. “I still can’t bring myself to watch Pocahontas because of those kids.”

  “I can’t bring myself to eat strawberries,” he says a little more quietly.

  “Why did they call you that?” I ask. “I’m sorry I brought it up, but that’s the first thing that came to my head.”

  “No, I’ve gotten over it,” he says, not looking up from his lap for a few seconds. “My mom put something red in my uniform whites. They came out pink. You know the kind of kids we grew up with. They hounded me every day, calling me Strawberry. My mother couldn’t afford new socks or pants until the next paycheck, but the damage was done.”

  “The kids in the building were pretty terrible.”

  “I hated that place,” he tells me. “I promised myself that I’d never let my kids grow up like that.”

  “You turned out fine,” I say. “So did I. Sometimes you can have all the money in the world, go to the best school, live in the best neighborhoods, and the people can be just as shitty as the poor side of town.”

  He shrugs. “Doesn’t hurt to not go hungry.”

  I answer with a sip of wine. “Well, we’re the adults now. It’s our turn to take care of our mothers.”

  “Most of the women I meet don’t understand that about me. Not you, though. We come from the same kind of place, and we got ourselves out of that. But enough of the past. Right now, I want you to tell me about yourself. You said you’re a nurse.”

  I nod, fidgeting with the corner of the menu. “Yep. I did a year at Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston.”

  I wonder what else my mother told him. The idea that this stranger, quasi-stranger, knows everything about my life makes me want to break into hives. I let the last drops of wine coat my tongue. The waitress comes around and takes our order.

  Another round of drinks. I order guacamole and steak tacos with extra queso, and he orders a shrimp salad, hold the croutons and cheese, and the dressing on the side.

  “I have a couple of classmates who went into medicine. It’s the best kind of job security because there will always be sick people.”

  I try to be my polite date-self but can’t help making a face. “Or, you know, it’s a good way to help people.”

  He chuckles, and then I remember that I hate his laugh. “Oh, you’re one of those.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Relax. I just mean everyone has their reasons for choosing a career in medicine. The hours are long, so long that it almost doesn’t make sense to have a family because the chances are more li
kely in favor of divorce.”

  I think of Bradley’s parents. They were both doctors. They might as well be divorced since they both have not-so-secret affairs and sleep in separate rooms. Did I really think Bradley and I could have something considering where he came from?

  “You must love being a doctor.”

  He smirks. “I love being a plastic surgeon.”

  Because of course he does.

  “I learned from the best doctors in Florida, but everyone wants to go to Florida to get their work done. At the beginning of the year, I decided to open up my own office in the city with my college roommate, Dr. Gold. Gonzales and Gold just had a good ring to it, don’t you think? He specializes in implants for both sexes. I specialize in faces.”

  As gross as I find cosmetic surgery, I’m oddly interested in the way he talks about it. “That’s the strangest thing I’ve heard all day.”

  The waitress sets down my guac on the table, and Xandro helps himself without asking. I want to remind him that the chips are made out of corn, but I decide not to.

  “Ever since I was little I loved to draw perfect faces.”

  I shove a giant helping of creamy guacamole into my mouth.

  “I’m not talking about the Golden Ratio or that symmetry bullshit, but more along the lines of helping people achieve the person they want to see when they look in a mirror. Everyone has that person. Though there are exceptions.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I turn people away when I think they don’t need work. For instance, if you came into my office and wanted to change something about your face, I’d decline.”

  I’ve met surgeons who tell me I might want to shave a centimeter or so off the slight bump on the top of my nose, and maybe for a little while I believed it. In a weird way, Xandro is giving me a compliment.

  “Well, thank you for not taking my hard-earned money for something so frivolous.”

  He smiles. “I mean it, Sky. You are exceptionally beautiful. I have clients who would kill for your eyes. It’s a particular shade of green and gold. Your forehead is not too big or small. Your cheekbones are perfection and your jaw line is incredibly defined. Then there’s your lips. I could try a thousand times and not get the exact fullness of your lips. Your mother was right, you’re just as beautiful as I remember.”

  Part of me wants to take my face and put a paper bag over it. It’s not that I don’t think I’m attractive. It’s that I hate being analyzed. Still, since I’ve deprived myself of a shred of romance all summer, I can’t help but flutter all over. It has nothing to do with him. Words have a power all their own.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “I’m just speaking the truth. My eyes are fixed on you.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re gorgeous. We come from the same origins. We have similar families. It seems like fate.”

  “I’m not looking for anything right now.”

  He leans over and places his hand on top of mine. “You might think so now, but I think you’ll change your mind.”

  Our food comes just in time because the fluttering just turned to panic. Xandro watches me eat with that infuriating smile across his face.

  “At least you’re doing something you like,” I tell him, trying to bring the conversation back to careers.

  “It’s the best of both worlds.”

  I can’t imagine how peeling back someone’s skin and shaving down their bones or injecting ass fat into lips is something to love, but to each their own.

  Then, he says the one thing I’ve been dreading since my mom shoved us into his red Maserati. “Your family tells me you’re recently single.”

  I chew my steak taco extra long, imagining the ways I could get back at them. Diuretic in their breakfast mimosas?

  “Yeah,” I say, sitting up straighter, as if better posture is the thing that’s going to make me look like I’m keeping my cool. I go through my catalogue of things to say, but this is a stranger. I don’t care if we crossed paths back in the day. I don’t care that my mother and family think he’s the best thing since sliced bread. Sliced bread isn’t even that good. “Things end.”

  “That’s bleak. Well, now that we’re neighbors again, we can go out and catch up again.”

  There’s nothing to catch up on because we were never really friends. “I’m going to be really busy planning the wedding and all.”

  “I’m sure you’ll have some downtime now that you’re not working,” he says. His confidence in asking me out makes my skin crawl. “Besides, didn’t you hear? I’m invited.”

  I want to order some more wine but I can feel the headache blooming at my temples, and that would only make him order another drink as well.

  “Your mom says you don’t have a plus one, so I’m offering my services. I’m not just a surgeon.” His voice drops down an octave and his eyes get that lazy look, like he’s ready to throw down in bed. “I’m an excellent date.”

  I signal the waitress for the check. It’s like my brain is throwing up flares that write “nope-nope-nope” in the sky. I reach for my purse.

  “Stop it,” he says pulling out a shiny black card that clinks on the glass table. The waitress takes it and brings it back. He signs with a flourish of his pen. His letters are bold and, unlike every other doctor’s signature I’ve seen, incredibly neat.

  “I’ll drive you home.”

  I shake my head. “I’m okay, I have some wedding things to take care of while I’m here.”

  “Do you need company?”

  “Some of the other bridesmaids are joining me.” I throw in as many wedding-related activities as possible to ensure that he won’t want to stick around.

  He pulls me into a hug and lets his hands slide down my waist. “I’m glad we’re neighbors again, Sky. I can’t wait to see more of your beautiful face.”

  Chapter 12

  Leti and River pick me up. I’m holding a tray of black iced coffees. My phone buzzes with a text. It’s Lucky Pierce telling me she’s in town. My hands are too occupied to respond so I make a mental note to text her later.

  “How was your hot date?” Leti asks saucily.

  “He said he’d never cut up my face because I’m so gorgeous.” I hand them their coffees.

  River pulls out and starts driving. “Well if that isn’t romance, then I don’t know what is.”

  I shake the ice in my coffee before I take a sip. “Where is this restaurant?”

  We take a turn off the highway and drive for about five miles. We pass an old RV and nothing but trees.

  “River?”

  She pulls up her phone and holds the screen up to Leti’s face. “Read that.”

  “We passed it.”

  River makes a sharp right at the next exit and we turn around. We drive in a circle and still there’s nothing.

  “That’s not an address, River¸” I say, panic starting to flood through my veins.

  We do another round, this time slowing down a bit. I realize something.

  “What’s the name of the restaurant?”

  “Just his name. Luke’s.”

  “You mean, Luke’s HOT DOGS?” I point to the RV parked off the highway. There are a few cars parked beside it and a bunch of beachgoers making a line at a window.

  “That’s Luke!” River shouts.

  “What were you doing when he told you he was a chef?”

  River shrugs. “I don’t know…he asked for my number or something.”

  “River!”

  “I’m sorry! He doesn’t look like he sells hot dogs off the side of the road.” River steps on the gas and we drive past the stand. With the windows down, we burst into a fit of laughter.

  When we’re quiet except for the sound of wind blowing through the car, I realize that we still don’t have a solution to the catering problem.

  “I’d just like to point out,” I say, “that this would only happen to us.”

  “Come on,” Leti says. “We have better luck tha
n that. You have to put your desires into the Universe and the Universe will answer. You just have to be specific. Like with Hayden. Have you called him yet?”

  River catches my eyes in the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry, Sky. I tried.”

  “I know, baby.” I stare out the window. The wind makes my eyes feel dry, but even our failed mission raises my spirits in a way lunch with Xandro could not. “I’ll figure something out.”

  “Let me see the shell,” Leti says.

  I put up my feet on the armrest between them and wiggle my toes. “It’s a sand dollar, and I’m not saying a word.”

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  I take a sip of my bitter coffee. “That’s between me and the Universe.”

  • • •

  After River’s catering lead failed epically, we returned home to join my family around the pool. River tells me to stay calm. We’re going to find something, even if it means buying two hundred TV dinners at Costco. It’s reassuring, really.

  Uncle Tony is at the grill turning burgers and hot dogs while everyone else takes in the last of the day’s rays. He’s wearing Pepe’s men’s beachwear. The neon board shorts don’t really go with the Wall Street vibe he still can’t shake off. That’s how you know it’s True Love.

  “How was your date with Nip/Tuck?” cousin Steve asks. He’s grown a foot since the last time I saw him. As much as I complain about my family, I really do love seeing them all at once. That is, until they start to pick on me.

  I throw my bottle of sunscreen at him. It hits him right in the gut, and he moans and almost rolls off his lounge chair.

  “Leave Sky alone,” Uncle Tony says, using metal tongs to poke a juicy burger.

  I step into the pool and shiver as the cold water envelops me all the way to my waist. I grab onto a purple pool noodle and float over to the deep end where no one else goes. Out of my whole family, I’m the only one who knows how to properly swim, something I have to thank Bradley for.