The First

Part I

Riley

I probably don't have to tell you this, but answering the question "Why are you with me?" with "Because you have beautiful tits and a delicious pussy" is a sure way to end any kind of relationship. If you're lucky she won't throw something at you in the process.

Thanking myself for having the sense and quick reflexes to dodge, I stared down at the pile of broken beer bottle glass around me. The source of the flying bottle got into her car and drove off down the alley. I turned and looked at the spot on the brick wall where amber colored liquid that was once my beer had met its untimely demise. Today was definitely not my day.

The back door opened up and Lenny, the general manager of the restaurant came out, her pack of cigarettes in her hand. "Lenny, can you grab me a broom and dust pan?" I asked her and she took in the glass shards that were at my feet.

She nodded wordlessly and disappeared for a minute and returned with broom in hand. She came down the steps from the door to the back alley.

"Just get one of the guys inside to do it. They're already in cleaning mode in there anyway," she suggested.

I slipped my cigarette in between my lips and grabbed the broom handle from her and started to sweep up the glass. "It should get cleaned up before someone gets hurt," I muttered and swept up the glass. Lenny sat down on a milk crate and lit up a cigarette. She held out the dust pan and I swept the pile of glass into it and she tossed it into the garbage bin on the other side of the staircase.

We both sat down onto a couple of milk crates and Lenny shared her beer with me. The kitchen was closed for the night and the staff were inside cleaning up. It was routine for Lenny, myself, and Jason, the sous chef, to regroup over a drink and cigarettes before we returned inside to finish closing the place. "The hell happened?" Lenny asked after taking a drag on her cigarette.

"Let's just say that Rachelle and I weren't exactly on the same page in terms of the status of our relationship," I answered vaguely.

"The discrepancy being that you don't do relationships?" Lenny asked, smirking. Lenny was my oldest and most trusted friend, as well as my housemate. We had met in junior high and remained friends while she went off to San Francisco and got her bachelors and masters degrees in business administration and hospitality management while I went to New York to study at the Culinary Institute of America. We had both moved back to L.A. six years ago and by the time I was ready to open my own restaurant, Lenny already had the success of saving three restaurants from going bankrupt under her belt. She was my first and only choice to co-own and manage my first restaurant, Claire de Lune.

"Lesbians are too needy, present company excluded," I commented with a wave in her direction and she gave me a raised eyebrow.

"And you're not a lesbian?" she asked rhetorically.

"I'm a dyke. I'm all about the 'Wham, bam, I don't wanna meet the fam'," I answered and stepped on my cigarette butt. "I don't process, I don't over-analyze, and I don't U-haul. I don't have time for that kind of shit. I put enough time and energy into this place every day, so when I'm with a girl, I don't wanna have to think or deal with drama."

"So then why do you keep sleeping with them if you know they're so needy? Aren't there 'un-needy dykes' you can sleep with?" she asked.

I took a drink of her beer. "There's only so many of us around. I think I've slept with them all. Not to mention that it's getting boring. I don't even have to ask them out to dinner anymore. Just offer to buy 'em a drink and their panties come off."

She shook her head. "You're such a whore."

"What can I say, the old man's genes are strong in this one," I retorted.

"Yeah, but your old man's Rod Carson, a rock god," Lenny pointed out. "You're not."

"What? I never knew that's what my dad did for a living. I just always thought he was a queer and liked to wear makeup," I teased. "But fuck you, I'm a fucking God in my kitchen."

"You mean legend in your own mind?" she teased back.

The back door opened again and Jason came out and pulled a milk crate off the stack of crates by the back door.

"All you chefs, y'all got that God complex," Lenny continued.

"It ain't a complex," Jason answered after taking a drag on his smoke. "We are God."

We sat around, smoking and drinking and discussed the events of the evening shift, the highlights and the lowlights, what the guests had enjoyed and what hadn't wowed them as much. We specialized in offering a prix-fixe tasting menu which gave all our guests a chance to try out many different dishes. These pow-wow sessions helped us adjust our future menus accordingly. After about half an hour, we headed back into the restaurant to clean up. It had been a crazy Saturday night service as usual and we had a lot of cleaning to do.

After we closed up, all ten of us, five from the kitchen and five from the front including the bartender, headed up onto the rooftop patio with a couple of bottles of wine and a case of beer to reminisce about the day's dinner service and relax. Like usual, a magical bag of ganja happened to appear from seemingly out of nowhere, and like usual, I passed on the fatties that made the rounds. We always took whatever time we could to unwind at the end of each day and settled any differences that may have cropped up during it. Given that we all spent six days a week working together, sometimes up to twelve hours a day, we understood the importance of resolving conflicts as soon as possible. Jason and I often lost our tempers and would start yelling when the cooks were in the weeds, but it was a necessity to keep things running in the kitchen.

About an hour later, half of us headed out to our favorite after hours bar nearby. By about two in the morning, I was leaving the bar with a redhead who had been giving me not so subtle come hither looks from the moment I had planted my ass down in the booth I shared with my crew. We ended up at her place, a studio apartment in West Hollywood. After she poured a couple of glasses of white wine for us, I proceeded to strip her naked and laid her out on the kitchen table like Sunday dinner. And like Sunday dinner, I ate and drank like I had been fasting for a week.

When the cab arrived in front of her place a couple of hours later, I finished getting dressed and grabbed my jacket.

"I don't even know your full name," she said, lying naked on her bed, her hair tousled and her cheeks flush from her last orgasm.

"I don't know yours either," I told her and gave her a wink. "It's better that way." And with that, I high tailed it out of her apartment and hopped into the cab. I finally made it home, fell onto the couch in the living room and slipped effortlessly into a nocturnal coma.

In my deep slumber, I felt someone nudging me and calling my name relentlessly. Slowly coming to, I could sense the light seeping through my closed eyelids. I vaguely registered that the voice belonged to Lenny.

"Rye bread, it's your mom," she repeated as I slowly willed my eyes to open.

"Five more minutes!" I mumbled and slammed my eyes shut again.

"Fine, if you don't wanna talk to her, I will," she said nonchalantly. "You know I love talkin' to your mom. Hey, Ms. Stark..sorry, Sarah. Riley's, ah...had a late night. How are you?"

Despite protests in my head, I opened my eyes again. "Gimme the phone," I mumbled.

"Ah, the beast has awaken," she commented and I slapped her thigh. Lenny has, on more than one occasion in our eighteen year friendship, mentioned how she's always thought of my mom as a MILF, before the term ever became popular. It shouldn't bother me, because after all, my mother used to be a model and still had her looks and figure, even after having had two kids. But it did bother me knowing that my best friend has probably masturbated at least once in her life while thinking of my mom.

She handed me the phone. "Hello," I managed to croak into the receiver.

"Good morning, sunshine," my mother's way too happy voice singsonged into my ear. "Did I wake you from your beauty rest?"

"Yes," I answered.

"Did you get my message yesterday?" she asked.

"No," I replied.

"Did you sleep in your own bed last night?" she asked facetiously.

"No sleepovers," I reminded my mother.

"Wow, short answers. Are you drunk?" she asked and I could hear the edge in her voice.

"What. Do. You. Want?" I asked, one word at a time as each word's vibration caused a new migraine in my head.

"Aunt Grace and her girls, and her sister are coming over this morning," my mom began, ignoring the fact that I had ignored her question about my sobriety. "Your sister's coming over as well with Claire-bear. They've all asked for your famous Dutch Baby for brunch."

I knew exactly who it was who was craving the pancake. "Tell Aunt Grace that if I wanted to make breakfast, I would've opened a restaurant that served breakfast," I answered belligerently.

"She's your Godmother," she reminded me.

"Doesn't mean I'm her personal chef," I answered.

"Do it for Claire-bear," my Mom said, aiming for my weak spot.

I sighed and rubbed my temples. "You're pure evil. Fine. For Claire-bear," I told her. "Tell me you have everything I need."

"I have everything you need," she informed me.

"Alright, I'll be over in a couple of hours," I told her and hung up the phone.

Alex

It had taken about a week for me to get settled and over the jet lag. Since my sister's divorce was finalized last year, she had been harassing me to come out to visit her in Los Angeles. I missed my sister and nieces, but my work had kept me too busy to take a holiday. Then my relationship of five years ended and I kicked my ex-boyfriend out. After months of restless nights I decided that I needed a fresh start, a new beginning. So I sold the flat in London and packed up my belongings and bought a one-way ticket to America. Grace was thrilled that I was moving in with her as she was feeling like she could use a hand with her two daughters, one of whom was in university and the other in high school. The divorce had been hard on both of them and Grace had been having a rough time dealing with it all.

Things had been going well my first week here as I started making contacts with local newspapers and magazines that were affiliated with news outlets I had worked with in London. I had continued writing on my news blog as well as personal blog throughout the move, just to keep my absence from the freelance journalism arena to a minimum. At the house, the girls seemed to be doing well and it may have just been the novelty of having their aunt around after not having seen me for a couple of years, but then things became slightly dramatic when the weekend came round. The girls were supposed to spend the weekend with their father, but instead, he called on Friday afternoon to say that he was stuck in New York for the weekend and would not be able to make it back to see the girls. They were quite disappointed and spent most of Saturday brooding in their rooms. In an effort to lift their spirits, Grace had arranged for a girls day with her best friend, Sarah Starks, and her girls.

Grace and Sarah had met decades ago when they were both modeling. After they retired from the modeling industry, they formed a fashion design company. I, unlike my sister, did not get the long shapely legs and five foot eleven height and our father's dazzling smile. Instead, I got the five foot seven height, which by average standards was not too shabby, but compared to Grace, I was the runt. I also inherited our mother's literary creativity. There was a ten year gap between us and so by the time I hit puberty, Grace had already moved to Hollywood and was dating actors and musicians. After a few years, she married Salvatore Dimaio, a rock musician and band mate of Sarah's long time partner. I was never envious of her as I knew how uncomfortable it was to live under a microscope and spotlight. Our father was a film director and producer and our mother was an accomplished author. Despite my efforts to disappear into the shadows as I grew older, I had my own sort of spotlight in the journalism community and though the light that shone on my life was but a fraction of the one that shone on the rest of my family, I had grown tired of living most of my life in the public eye, so I completely sympathized with my sister.

We pulled up to Sarah's estate and were buzzed through the gate. We parked the vehicle in the circular drive way in front of the excessively large and opulent house and were greeted by Sarah in the doorway. We were ushered into the house and I was introduced to Sarah's youngest daughter, Samantha, and her daughter, Claire. The last time I had seen Sarah's daughters were at Grace's wedding. I was an awkward and self absorbed teenager and Sarah's girls would've been very little, so it felt like we were being introduced for the first time. Sam was practically a spitting image of Sarah, long wavy brown hair, blue eyes and a slight figure. Claire, had straw blond hair and big hazel eyes with green flecks and a brilliant smile with full pouty lips. I figured she must have taken after her father, or even her rock star legend grandfather. Either way, when this one grows up, she was going to be one hell of a heart breaker.

My nieces, Madison and Kristen went off and played with Claire while Sarah got coffee for the rest of us. "Riley's coming over in a bit to make us brunch," Sarah said pouring coffee into our cups.

"Riley is Sarah's oldest and my goddaughter," Grace told me and I did recall the name. I just didn't know anything about her, other than that she was Sarah's oldest and Grace's goddaughter.

We went outside to sit on the patio and watched the girls play while sipping our coffee and catching up with one another. A short while later, we heard the doorbell. Sarah went to the intercom and answered it.

"I forgot my key," a low and husky, yet feminine voice came through the speaker.

"Auntie Riley!" Claire screeched when she heard the voice and started running for the house from the yard. Sarah followed her and the rest of us got up and made our way into the house.

When we got to the foyer of the house, I saw a figure with black shaggy hair, wearing an untucked blue button up shirt, jeans and a pair of aviator sunglasses. This was obviously Auntie Riley as I saw Claire clinging onto her hips while she was trying hard to lift two brown grocery bags up and away from the little girl's head.

"Little help here, Mom," she said to Sarah and leaned in to give her mom a kiss and then handed the bags to her. With her hands free, she reached down and picked up her niece. "How's my Claire-bear?" she asked and kissed her on the cheek and the back of her neck, making Claire giggle uncontrollably. Walking towards us, she shifted Claire onto her hip and put an arm around Sam's shoulder. She greeted Madison and Kristen with a flash of a smile.

"Get a haircut, you look like a Muppet," Grace playfully scolded her as she came up to us. "And get a real job, will ya?"

"A real job, like what, modeling? Or maybe fashion design?" she quipped and released her sister. She leaned in and gave Grace a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Besides, if I got a real job, I wouldn't be available to be at your beck and call to be your personal chef."

"True," Grace conceded. "Riley, this is my sister, Alex. Alex, this is Riley. Alex just moved here last week and she's staying with us."

I reached out to shake her hand. She took my hand in a firm grasp and gave an equally firm shake. She smiled a brilliant grin and I looked over at Claire and saw the same grin on the little girl. "It's nice to meet you," she said, her low voice surprisingly alluring.

"Keep it in your pants, Casanova, she's straight," Grace said, much to my confusion.

Releasing my hand, her smile turned shy. "Well, that's just a little awkward," she said. Then she reached up and covered Claire's ear with her hand and pulled the little girls head against her neck and shoulder. "You're just full of piss and vinegar this morning, aren't you, beautiful?"

"Have a little respect and take your sunglasses off. D'you think you're a rock star or something?" Grace continued to chide her, playfully, I hoped.

"She's hangover," Sarah's voice called out from behind us and I was certain there was a sharp edge to it.

"What's hangover mean?" Claire asked having been released from Riley's makeshift earmuffs. "Can I wear your sunglasses?"

Riley nodded. "Just grab them by the sides and be careful."

Claire carefully pulled the sunglasses off of Riley's face and slowly put them over her own eyes and grinned. "What's hangover mean?" the little girl repeated her question. Claire reached up and played with Riley's hair, and to my surprise, Riley didn't even look bothered by it.

"It means I stayed up way past my bedtime and now I'm exhausted," Riley answered her. "But not too exhausted to make brunch for a house full of demanding women, apparently." She turned to look at us, and then at Sarah and gave her mother the evil eye. Although her hair hung over her eyes, I could tell they were slightly bloodshot, but were a sparkling hazel/green. Her dark eye makeup gave off the intense "smokey eyes" look quite effectively. Looking back at Claire, aside from the different hair color, it was obvious who the little girl took after and it wouldn't have surprise me if Riley spoiled the girl senseless.

"Good, God, are you high?" Grace asked, her hand on Riley's chin, forcing the young woman to look her in the eyes.

Lowering Claire to the ground, Riley leaned down and told her to scoot off to the kitchen to get ready to help her make breakfast. She straightened up and put her sunglasses back on after having retrieved them from the little girl.

She opened her mouth to answer as we made our way into the spacious kitchen and seemed to pause briefly. "I'm running on four hours of sleep...and I may have had a drink last night."

"Or two, or three, or ten?" Sam asked snarkily. "Was she worth it?"

"Oh yeah," Riley answered in a deep husky voice and a lopsided smile and I felt goosebumps on my arms. I mentally shook my head and took a breath. First I thought her voice was alluring and her eyes intense and now she was giving me goosebumps? What the hell was going on?

"What was her name?" Sarah asked while Riley started to unload the contents of the grocery bags onto the counter.

"Kate...Kara...Kira...I don't know. I think it started with a K," she answered and shrugged off the momentary thought. So that's what Grace was referring to earlier with the Casanova comment. Apparently Riley was gay and fond of women whom she didn't care to get to know on a first name basis but certainly had a good time with.

"I told you I have everything you need," Sarah said indignantly, looking at the groceries on her counter.

Riley slid her sunglasses down her nose and looked at her mom. She picked up a round red fruit with what looked like prickly hairs on it and held it up.

"No, I don't have those," Sarah admitted.

Riley put down the red fruit and picked up a glass tube containing two vanilla beans.

"I don't have those either," Sarah said and rolled her eyes. "You chefs are so hard done by."

She rolled up her sleeves and washed her hands and Claire's hands. "Now, if you ladies don't mind, please remove yourselves from the kitchen and you'll be fetched when brunch is ready."

We did as we were told and retreated to the patio. The sun was already blistering hot so Madison and Kristen decided to cool off in the pool. We talked about how I was settling into L.A. and then discussed what Sarah and Grace had planned for us this afternoon, which included a home spa treatment for all of us, then some shopping and then dinner at Riley's restaurant.

"Should I go and see if she needs help?" I asked and got an immediate response of head shakes and snickers.

"When it comes to the kitchen, no one is allowed in there with the God almighty Riley," Sam answered. "The only person she ever lets in there is Claire-bear."

"The girl's a control freak," Sarah added, shaking her head.

"I wonder who she got that from?" Grace asked, grinning at Sarah.

From where I was sitting, I could see straight into the kitchen where Riley and Claire were both cutting up fruits and then Riley let Claire taste something off of a spoon. Whatever it was, it was good enough to earn lots of nods from the little girl. They seemed to be happily chatting away, with Claire doing most of the talking and Riley interjecting every so often. Clair de Lune, the name of Riley's restaurant; I wondered if she named it after the little girl or after the DeBussy piece.

Claire was sent out to let us know that we were ten minutes away from brunch and so we got busy setting the table out on the patio to eat. By the time we were done, the food was ready and we all helped bring it outside. The fruit salad and vanilla syrup looked amazingly refreshing and delicious, the Dutch Baby pancakes were puffy and smelled wonderful, and there was also a plate of lean turkey sausages. Finally, Riley brought out a pitcher of what looked like orange juice but we were told was Mimosa, made with champagne and fresh squeezed orange juice, and poured us each a glass. We sat down and started to feast while the girls had a picnic by the pool.

I noticed that none of the food had touched the plate in front of our chef. "Are you not eating?" I asked.

She took a drink from a bottle of water and shook her head. "I don't usually eat before noon," she answered and then looked over at Sarah and added, "because I'm normally still sleeping until then."

She took another drink from her bottle and then sat back and laced her fingers behind her head. I noticed she had tattoos on the inside of her wrists - a black and white nautical star on the right wrist and a lion with its tailed curled into the Leo sign on the left wrist.

"Sausage?" Sam asked, passing me the plate.

I took it and passed it on to Grace. "No thanks, actually. I'm a vegetarian."

"Are you serious?" Riley asked, her sunglasses shielding her eyes so I couldn't tell if she was just curious or annoyed that someone wasn't going to eat her cooking.

"Yes, I'm serious," I answered.

"Why?" she asked, her face not giving anything away.

"Well, for nutritional and healthy eating reasons for one," I began and paused and then shrugged. "And I guess I can't bring myself to eat cute animals."

She seemed to ponder my reply for a moment and then said, "Me neither. That's why I like to eat chickens. They're ugly bastards. So are tuna. Turkeys aren't that pretty either. And don't get me started on pigs. Those snouts and that tough skin? They don't have that saying about a sow's ear for nothing, you know?" And then I saw the slight smirk.

"Are you mocking me?" I asked, unable to hide the smile that was surfacing.

She gave me a wide grin and nodded. "Yes, yes I am."

"Ahem," I heard Grace clearing her throat from beside Riley.

"What?" Riley asked, turning to look at her. Grace merely raised an eyebrow at her.

"As a chef and meatatarian, I'm allowed to question why people don't eat certain things," Riley said and I thought I caught a hint of defensiveness in her voice. "I guess I just don't understand how people can pass up on pork fat or foie gras."

"Because not everyone can eat all that and stay thin like you," Grace answered. "Besides, that wasn't my point."

"Oh, so do tell, what was your point?" Riley challenged with amusement in her voice.

Grace simply fixed her a look and Riley grinned widely.

"Am I missing something?" I leaned over and asked Sam.

"Grace is not so subtly trying to tell Riley to not flirt with you," Sam replied smiling. I felt myself blushing and averted my eyes from Riley's smile which was now directed my way.

"I suppose I need to come up with a vegetarian menu for you tonight, do I?" she asked, still smiling.

"I do eat dairy and eggs," I confessed. "Besides, I'm sure I can find something to order on the menu tonight."

"Don't worry about that," Sarah told me. "Riley was making us a Chef's special dinner tonight anyway. She's just giving you a hard time."

I looked back at Riley who was still grinning like the Cheshire cat at me. She picked up her water bottle and took another drink, and despite the sunglasses shielding her eyes, I knew she was looking at me.

"Anyone want more coffee?" Sarah asked.

"I don't suppose you have any decaf?" I asked and Sarah nodded while Riley choked on her water. Grace reached over and patted her on her back until her coughing subsided.

"Decaf?" she asked, still slightly gasping for air.

"I've already had a cup of the regular stuff," I explained feeling slightly defensive and unsure as to whether or not I should even say anything more as it seemed that I was constantly offending the chef sitting across from me. "If I have anymore caffeine, I'll be shaking for the rest of the day."

"But decaf?" she asked again. I shrugged.

"That's just bitter dirty water," she said, grimacing and then gave a shudder as Sarah returned with my coffee.

"Well, let's just say that I know my limitations," I conceded.

"Unlike some people," Grace chimed in and looked over at Riley who pointedly ignored her.

"Well, ladies, if you'll excuse me, I have some work to do for your dinner tonight," she said standing up. She extended her hand towards me. "It was nice meeting you, Alex."

I took her hand and shook it and returned the sentiment and thanked her for the delicious brunch she had made for us. Grace stood up and offered to walk Riley out, although it didn't seem like Riley had a choice in the matter.

"I do apologize for my daughter," Sarah told me as I sat back in my chair. "She takes after her father."

Riley

"So the restaurant keeping you busy?" Grace asked me while she walked me out to my car.

"Busy enough," I answered. When we got to my car, I stopped and turned to look at her and took off my sunglasses. I looked her in the eyes and asked, "How are you doing?"

"Some days are good, some, not so much," she answered quietly and honestly. "I won't lie. It's been rough, especially on weekends like this when the girls were supposed to spend time with him and he cancels on them. I hate it when he disappoints them like this."

"I'm sure he had a good reason," I said and she cut me off.

"Riley, to you he may be Uncle Sal who can do no wrong, and I hate to break it to you but he's no angel," Grace interrupted me and I could tell she was getting upset.

I put an hand on her shoulder to try to soothe her. "Aunt Grace, I know that. I'm not a kid anymore. I know Uncle Sal's not an angel, in fact I know he was a cheating bastard, but I also know that he loves Madison and Kristen more than anything in the world and he'd do his best to not hurt them anyway he could."

Grace reluctantly but finally nodded. "Speaking of hurting," she said, her voice taking on a note of warning, "Keep your hands off my sister."

I held my hands up in mock surrender. "Hands off," I agreed.

"I'm serious, Riley," Grace continued. "First of all, she's straight. Secondly, she's just gotten out of a five year relationship after she found out that the wanker had cheated on her with practically everything that moved. I know you've got a good heart, kiddo. Just don't mess around with Alex's."

I heeded her warning and took her words to heart. "I promise," I told her sincerely. "I'll see you guys tonight." I gave her a hug and drove off towards the farmer's market in search of some new ingredients to fix up a special meal tonight. Despite Grace's request and my promise to her, I still felt an urge to want to impress Alex with my skills and talent at dinner.

It had been awhile since I met a woman whom I found instantly attractive while I was sober, and Alex had fit the bill. The moment I was introduced to her, I had silently wished that I wasn't hung over and hoped to god I was presentable enough with my undoubtedly bloodshot eyes and shaggy hair. Thank God I had the sense in me to put on some makeup that morning. She had a warm and inviting smile and I noticed how, unlike her British kinsmen, she had beautifully white, straight teeth. Although not as tall as Aunt Grace, Alex was still tall for a non-model, which I found appealing as she was about the same height as I was. I can tell you for a fact that dating shorter women can be quite straining on the neck.

The two other features I noticed right away, aside from her shoulder length wavy dark brown hair, were her incredibly bright blue eyes and her dimples. I have always been a sucker for blue eyes and dimples, but the combination of the two and the way her eyes sparkled, I was surprised I had any capacity to carry on making brunch. Then there was her accent. Grace's accent had been diluted over the years while Alex's was still fresh. I swear if we weren't in a house full of people, her accent had the power to rip my pants right off me. But, according to Grace, Alex was straight. Add to that the fact that she just got out of a long term relationship where she was the hurt party, and I could see that her baggage definitely did not match my luggage. She was a walking lesbian drama waiting to happen. And, while that was definitely not my scene, it didn't stop me from wondering if she was a good kisser.

By the time I got to the restaurant, it was almost two in the afternoon and the kitchen crew were already all there, prepping for the dinner service that night. Lenny was working in the office in the back and a couple of the front staff were setting up tables. I brought in my purchases from the market into the kitchen and went off to change. When I returned to the kitchen, Jason was peering into the two bags on the counter. "What's this for?" he asked.

"The private party on the rooftop tonight," I answered and he started to unload the contents for me. "I was thinking three courses, seafood themed. One guest is a vegetarian."

"Vegetarians need a kick in the crotch," Jason offered his opinion.

"And she drinks decaf," I added. He held up his hands and backed away from the counter.

"That's it, you're on your own then," he said.

"She's pretty hot," I told him.

"And that would matter to me because?" he asked.

"Because I want to impress her and I run this motherfucker, remember?" I said with as much machismo as I could muster.

He smiled and shook his head. "Never let it be said that men are the only ones who think with their dicks."

"Allison!" I called out to my pastry chef.

"Yeah," she answered from the other end of the kitchen.

"I need to make two individual quiches for the chef's table tonight," I told her.

"Got it. Dough will be in the fridge in thirty minutes," she answered.

"I love you," I called back out to her in a light but appreciative tone.

"Yeah, me and all the girls you take home," she chuckled.

While the other two cooks had finished up and headed out to the back for a cigarette break, I told Jason what my ideas were for the chef's table and he made some suggestions and we agreed on a final menu. I also consulted with Allison to come up with a dessert for the party and we agreed on a chocolate fondue with a variety of fruits and mini pastries.

About an hour before opening, Lenny came out of the office and checked that the front and bar were ready for opening and then came into the kitchen and gave a report on her tour of the front.

"Who's on the VIP rotation tonight?" I asked her. We had two waiters and one waitress in the front of the house and Lenny made it a point to equally rotate the staff so that everyone would have a turn taking care of private dinner parties throughout the week. We usually had two seatings a night, which meant two private dinner parties each night.

"Jake," Lenny informed me and stuck her head out to the front and called Jake into the kitchen.

The young aspiring actor by day and waiter by night came into the back and I pulled out the paper on which Jason and I had settled on a menu.

"It's a dinner for my family and family friends, so look sharp and don't flirt with my mother," I teased him and he laughed nervously. "There's seven of them - all women; four adults, and three under aged, and I don't care what they tell you, the twenty year old isn't allowed to drink. Got it?"

Jake nodded.

"Okay, so for my niece, Claire, she's five, we'll start her off with crispy fried frog legs with roasted garlic butter," I began to instruct him on the menu as he'd be the one to explain the meals to the guests.

"Are you sure a little girl will eat frog legs?" he asked.

"She's a freaky one, that kid," I answered. "If it grosses out other people, she'll eat it. Then we've got a mini cheese burger with Kobe beef and brie cheese and shoestring fries fried in duck fat. The fries are going to be in a paper cone to make it more fun."

Jake nodded again, absorbing what I was telling him.

"For the rest of the party, the appetizer trio will be scallop ceviche with truffle lime, fried calamari with blood orange vinaigrette and a mini crab cake with citrus mayo," I continued, showing him how we were going to serve it on a rectangular plate. "Now, there's a vegetarian in their midst as well and so her meal will be the same, except it'll be a heart of palm ceviche, fried seitan instead of calamari and tempeh 'crab' cakes. Still with me? Don't worry, I'll tell you all of this again before you take it out of the kitchen.

He nodded again.

"The main dish will be another trio: sauteed cobia with white bean puree and mustard sauce and micro greens, seared scallop with couscous and sitting in a mini dutch oven will be ratatouille," I explained the entree to him. "For the vegetarian, she'll get the ratatouille as well but instead of the seafood, we're gonna serve two mini quiches: one is a wild mushroom quiche with truffle and one is a leek and Roquefort quiche."

He nodded and looked over the written menu, trying to commit it to memory.

"Relax, it's just the chef's family and friends," Jason told him with a slap on the back and I swore the poor kid turned a shade paler.

"Don't forget," Lenny added. "You've also got a party of four in the private dining room down here an hour before the rooftop party."

Jake nodded. He wasn't flustered by the party of four as they, along with the rest of the diners, would be served the prix-fixe tasting menu. He was just nervous about the new dishes for my family, but I had confidence in the kid. It was just fun to make him nervous. Chefs are asses that way. Soon enough, the first table arrived and the hustle in the kitchen began. We had a full house booked so the kitchen was humming along continuously. Soon enough, Lenny announced that the chef's table had arrived and had been seated. Making sure that Jason had the pass, I called Jake. He brought a tray with bottled water and followed me up to the rooftop.

"Good evening, beautiful ladies," I greeted them with Jake in tow. They had all had their hair done up and were dressed up for a night on the town, even Claire-bear.

"Look at my nails, Auntie Riley!" Claire showed off her fingernails which had little flowers painted onto them. Then she showed me her toes which were done up the same way.

"Too cool, Claire-bear," I told her. "They're so pretty I might just wanna eat them up!" I was rewarded with a shriek of laughter.

"Ladies, Jake here is going to take care of you tonight," I introduced them to their waiter as he poured water into their water glasses. "Be nice to him, and enjoy your dinner." I took my leave and headed back down to the kitchen and started on the chef's table's dishes.

When I sent Jake and Lenny up with the appetizers, I noted to them that the vegetarian dishes were to go to Alex, the one in the black spaghetti strap dress. When they came back down, Jake went off to take care of the party in the private dining room and Lenny came back into the kitchen. "So, who's the vegetarian?" she asked, a smile on her face.

"That's Alex, Grace's sister," I answered, putting the finishing garnishes on four plates that were going out. As the plates were whisked away, Lenny said, still smiling, "Pretty."

More food was brought up and Jason and I continued to plate the food. "She's straight," I told her without looking up.

"So you have tried hitting on her," Lenny speculated and I heard Jason chuckle beside me.

"No, I haven't," I said finally looking at her. She gave me a skeptical look but then dropped the topic and headed back out to the dining room.

"Have you?" Jason inquired after Lenny left.

"No, I haven't," I replied. "Not really."

Jason laughed at my afterthought and we continued working in rhythm the rest of the service. By the time the entrees were all served and just the desserts were left, I took leave from the kitchen, leaving it in the capable hands of Jason and Allison and the two other cooks and headed up to the rooftop to check on my guests.

Alex

I popped a piece of chocolate covered pineapple into my mouth and savored the sweetness that took over my taste buds. I closed my eyes and heard the moans of approval from my dinner companions as they too indulged in the chocolaty dessert that had been laid out for us. Finally opening my eyes, I saw that everyone at the table had reclined back into their chairs, satiated from the meal. All except for Claire who was happily biting into a strawberry, chocolate smearing all over her mouth. I couldn't help but laugh at her uninhibited enjoyment.

"Ladies," I heard Riley's voice greet us and I turned to look over at the rooftop door.

She was wearing black pants, a white short-sleeved chef's jacket, and a black chef's skull cap with a pencil tucked behind her right ear. She came over to the table and picked Claire up from her seat and sat down in the chair, putting Claire down onto her leg. The little girl was grinning from ear to ear. Unlike this morning, without the sunglasses and with her hair off her face, I could see her high cheek bones and well defined and manicured eyebrows. She really was an attractive girl and her eyes were brighter now that she had sobered up over the course of the day.

"I see you're enjoying the chocolate," Riley said to Claire and she nodded. Riley picked up a napkin off the table and began to wipe off the chocolate from the girl's mouth and cheeks.

I noted the muscles in her forearms flexing as she wiped Claire's face. Her arms looked lean and strong and I noticed the pronounced vein which ran down the length of each arm. I had always had this idea that visible veins on a woman's arms was too masculine and unbecoming of a lady, but as I watched her, I started to realize how sexy her arms looked.

"You realize that now she's gonna be bouncing off the walls for two hours," Sam said to Riley, interrupting me out of my gaze at the chef.

"You're welcome," Riley told her sister and then turned to the rest of us. "So, how was dinner?"

We all hummed and moaned in unison about how delicious it all was and she turned to me. "And Ms. Vegetarian," she said. "How was your meal?"

"It was absolutely wonderful, thank you," I told her and she gave me a nod. "It was hard to eat out back home, unless you were up for Indian food all the time. This has been quite a treat to have vegetarian food at a fine dining restaurant."

She took off her head wear and ran her fingers through her hair, tousling it. It was quite an adorable look and I wondered if she had the same look when she woke up in the mornings. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," she said finally. "I'm not used to cooking for a vegetarian so it was...it was a challenge."

"It was delicious," I said, holding her gaze and smiling involuntarily. "You're a very talented chef."

"You're welcome and thank you," she responded and smiled, and if I wasn't mistaken, I could have sworn she was blushing. I noticed the laugh lines around her mouth when she smiled made her smile quite sexy.

She visited with us for a short while and then it was time for Sam to take Claire home so we all thanked our host and took leave. When we got home, the girls went up to their rooms and Grace asked if I wanted to join her for a glass of wine. I agreed and she pulled out a bottle of red wine from the wine rack in the kitchen. We settled down onto a couple of lounge chairs out on the deck, overlooking the ocean, and she poured us each a generous glassful of the Chianti.

"How are you, darling?" she asked. The age gap between us sometimes led to Grace mothering me, but I suppose it was better than if we didn't get on at all.

"I'm glad I'm here," I answered. "It was difficult leaving London, but I think I needed to get away and as clichéd as it sounds, I think I lost myself in the last five years. Hopefully being on my own, so to speak, will help me find myself again."

"I'm happy to hear it, Alex," Grace said. She reached over and gave my hand a squeeze. "I'm glad you're here too. I've missed this, you and me."

"Me too," I told her and squeezed her hand in return. We sat in a companionable silence, sipping our wine and enjoying the warm nighttime breeze from the ocean.

As much as I tried, the image of Riley smiling and blushing kept popping up in my mind. What was it about this girl that kept me thinking about her all day, from the time she had left Sarah's house until now, not to mention that I kept hearing her voice teasing me about being a vegetarian over and over in my head? It was like she had this coolness, for lack of a better word, to her that I admired. That was probably what it was, I told myself. She was young, witty, charming, talented and obviously quite successful in her own right - those were all very admirable qualities.

"How old is Riley?" I asked, still lost in my train of thought.

Grace gave me an inquiring look and, without changing her expression, replied, "Thirty...why d'you ask?"

"Just curious," I answered and then saw that my sister was still looking at me with her raised eyebrow.

"She's done well for herself," I added. "Quite young, but successful."

"And?" Grace prodded.

"No 'and'," I replied. "I was just curious."

"Darling," Grace said in her motherly tone. "There are two things in this life that should never mix, and that is 'curiosity' and Riley."

"You're a bit hard on her aren't you, given that she's your goddaughter?" I asked, surprised at my sister's display of hostility towards Riley since this morning.

"Don't get me wrong," Grace continued. "I love the girl and she has a huge heart where her friends and family are concerned. But when it comes to women, you can be sure that when Riley enters a room, a girl leaves crying."

"That's a bit harsh, don't you think?" I asked, taken aback by my sister's comment.

"As much as her father has stayed away from marriage, Riley's stayed even farther away from relationships in general," Grace answered. "I know she doesn't mean to hurt people, in fact she's usually very clear about her intentions. Nevertheless, they can't help but fall in love with her."

"She is attractive," I voiced my observation without thinking which resulted in Grace sitting up and turning her entire body to look at me.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" my sister inquired.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Are you hopping the fence to the other side?" Grace asked again and it took me a brief pause to understand what she was implying.

"No!" I quickly answered shaking my head. "No, I'm - I haven't - no...I was just making an observation." Somehow, I didn't hear much conviction in my answer.

"She's a charming devil that one," my sister said, lying back onto her lounge chair. "Be careful, Alex."

I didn't reply but simply nodded, mentally telling myself to stop thinking about said charming chef.

A couple of weeks had gone by and I had kept busy with my online news blog and my personal blog. I had also met an editor with the L.A. Times at a luncheon, and he had asked if I'd contribute to a column in the Lifestyle section. I told him that I didn't really have anything in the pipelines but he insisted that if I came up with anything to send it to him as he really enjoyed reading my work. I was flattered and had been trying to think of a topic for an article and unfortunately had drawn a blank in the last few days. It was a beautiful Monday afternoon as I sat outside with my laptop trying to do some writing when the phone rang. It was Grace calling from New York.

"Darling, Kristen's school called me and they wanted to have a meeting with me this afternoon," she told me. "I'm not back in L.A. until tonight and Sal's doing a show in New Orleans. I'm sure they're just wanting a donation or something. Would you be a dear and go for me and find out what kind of money they're asking for now?"

I looked at my watch and realized I had been sitting outside for almost an hour and had not written a single thing. "What time?" I asked her and she told me Kristen's school dismissal time. After I hung up with Grace, I went inside to change and headed off to Kristen's school. By the time I pulled up to the school grounds and parked the car, I spotted Kristen out on the front steps of Sacred Heart Academy. She looked like she was on the look out for someone. I walked towards her and waved.

"Auntie Alex! What are you doing here?" she asked. Clearly, I wasn't the one she was looking for.

"Your Mum called and said the school called her," I explained. "She asked me to come in her place."

"Oh," my niece said, looking as if her stomach had just dropped down three floors. Then her face brightened up and she waved at someone in the distance. I turned around and saw a figure with a familiar swagger walking towards us. The figure, clad in a green t-shirt and black motorcycle jacket, low riding blue jeans and black boots, waved back with one hand while the other was carrying a helmet. Gone was the black shaggy hair. Instead, her hair was now incredibly short, especially on the sides and back, and blond, like Claire's. It was styled forward and across her forehead, giving it that "wind swept" look which was complimented quite well with her aviator sunglasses.

Riley

"Hey, kiddo," I said to Kristen when I reached her and Alex. "Alex."

"Riley," Alex greeted in return. "You changed your hair...it looks great."

"Thank you," I said, running my hand through the short hair on the back of my head. I hadn't had my hair cut short like this in a long time and so was feeling a bit self-conscious and exposed. "My hair has seen every color in the rainbow and both my stylist and I figured it was time to go back to what I was born with."

"Claire's a spitting image of you," she commented.

"Yeah, we took after the Carson side of the family," I confirmed.

"Aren't you working today?" she asked.

"We close on Mondays," I answered. Remembering why I was where I was in the first place, I turned to Kris. "What's going on, Kris?" It wasn't unusual for Kristen to call me, but usually it was because she was in trouble and needed someone to help her out without being judgmental. So when she had called me earlier in the day, asking me to pick her up from school, I knew something was up. When I saw Alex standing with her in front of the school, I knew this must be a big deal.

"My principal wants to talk to my parents but they're both out of town," Kris began to explain. "So I told her that I'd call my guardian to come in after school."

"Where's your sister?" I asked.

"She's not old enough to be my legal guardian," Kris answered. "Besides, she'll just rat me out the first minute she gets."

"Rat you out for what?" Alex asked. Apparently I wasn't the only one in the dark.

"Kristen!" a voice called from the school building entrance. "Ms. Petersen would like to see you now."

With a long sigh, Kris turned on her heels and ascended the stairs to the school building. I gave Alex a questioning look and she simply shrugged her shoulders. "I know about as much as you do, I suspect," she said. I had to bite my tongue. Even in a state of uncertainty, her accent was cool and soothing to my ears.

As we entered the school and rounded the corner into the school office, I saw a woman in a black skirt suit and my jaws involuntarily clenched. I forced myself to relax.

"Ms. Petersen, these are my guardians while my parents are away," Kristen said nervously. "This is my aunt Alex and this is Riley."

The principal looked first at Alex and held out her hand for a handshake which Alex readily gave. Then she turned to me and there was a momentary pause which I hoped Kris hadn't noticed. "Riley," Ms. Petersen said in greeting as her soft hand shook mine firmly with a nod of her head. "Please, if you'll all come into my office." She opened up the mahogany door to her brightly lit office and we all entered. We seated ourselves in the chairs which faced the Principal's desk, with Kristen in the middle. I could tell the kid was nervous as hell.

"I'm glad that you could both come in on such short notice, but an important matter has arisen," the principal began as she walked around her desk and sat down in her leather chair. When she passed by me, I noticed the absence of a panty line under the fabric of the skirt which was hugging her backside quite nicely. "Kristen was caught smoking behind the school's main building this morning."

"Smoking what?" I asked before my brain could stop me.

"Cigarettes," Ms. Petersen said slowly and gave me an arched eyebrow. I looked over and Alex had an incredulous look on her face and Kristen looked like she was about to die from embarrassment. I simply nodded my understanding.

"Aside from it being illegal because of her age, it's also against the school's policy," the dark haired principal continued. "An infraction such as this is subject to a possible suspension...but Kristen's been with us since Kindergarten and she has never gotten into any kind of trouble like this in all the years she's been here, I'm inclined to overlook a suspension. You will be, however, sent to detention during your lunch hour for the next week. But if anything like this happens again, I will have no choice but to suspend you. Seeing as how this is your senior year, I don't think you want that to happen."

"This is the part where you tell her you understand and say thank you," Alex leaned over and whispered to Kristen.

"I understand," Kristen said meekly. "Thank you, Ms. Petersen."

I leaned over to Kristen and added, "And it won't happen again."

"And it won't happen again," Kristen repeated.

The principal nodded. "How are things at home?" she asked, her voice softer this time.

"It still sucks," Kristen replied. I laughed inwardly at the eloquence of youth. "But it's getting better. At least they're not yelling at each other anymore."

Petersen nodded. "If you ever want to talk, my door is always open," she told the teenager beside me. Then she turned and looked at me and then Alex. "Thank you for taking the time to come in. I trust you'll have a chat about the health risks of smoking?"

"Yes, absolutely," Alex replied and we all stood up to leave.

"Riley, can I have a minute please?" the principal asked me and I looked at her and nodded. Then I turned to Alex and Kristen and told them I'd meet up with them outside the office. Ms. Petersen walked them to her door and opened it up for them and closed it behind them. I stood up and perched myself on the edge of her desk. I picked up the name plate off the desk and read it: Principal M. Petersen.

"Like I said before, this is a first infraction for Kristen so I'm inclined to keep this off the record...I just think that there are some things we should keep between us," she told me as she came over to the desk and sat down beside me on the desk's edge. I nodded, flashes of what had transpired between us the last time we had met flitted through my brain.

"I like what you've done with your hair," she said quietly. "You look good,"

"Thanks, so do you," I replied. I held up the placard. "Principal? Really?"

"We all have our secrets," she joked, her eyes on my mouth, which was smiling as I noted the blush that had crept its way across her chest. "Except for you, right?"

"What you see is what you get," I answered.

"Speaking of seeing, I haven't seen you at Girl Bar in awhile," she said, her eyes fluttering between my eyes and my mouth.

"I've, ah, been busy," I said, realizing how clichéd that sounded.

"I'm sure you have been," she said, teasingly and finally closed the gap between us. I was instantly reminded of how soft her lips were and like that night months ago, they tasted like strawberries. She parted her lips and I granted her tongue access to my own as she tangled one hand into my hair. Our lips and tongues reacquainted themselves and I could hear a deep moan emanating from her chest.

When we finally broke apart, she smiled.

"Do you wanna go for a drink?" I asked. I often avoided sleeping with the same woman multiple times if I could help it, but since I had been too busy for any hookups in the past couple of weeks, I was willing to bend the rules a little.

"Are you asking me out on a date?" she asked teasingly.

"I don't date, remember?" I answered, "But since I am trying to get in your pants, or skirt, the least I can do is buy you a drink."

"Always straight to the point," she observed.

"No sense in being coy," I answered. I always believed in honesty when it came to sleeping with women. That way they can't claim to know what my intentions or lack of intentions were.

"I'd love to go for a drink right now but I can't," she answered, breathlessly. "I have a staff dinner meeting. In fact, this whole week is shot."

I nodded my head. "Do you wanna come over Friday night?" she asked.

It was my turn to smile and nod. "Sure, but I don't get off from the restaurant until about midnight."

"I’ll keep the light on," she offered.

"Okay, I'll see you Friday night," I told her and stood up, placing the placard back onto her desk.

"Don't you need my address?" she asked.

I shook my head. "I still remember from last time." She gave me a curious look and then reached up and wiped her lipstick off my lips with her thumb.

"See you Friday," she said. "Oh, and ride your bike. I like you in leather." I chuckled and I let myself out of her office.

As soon as I closed the door behind me, Kris and Alex both stood up from where they were seated in the office and I followed them out into the hallway.

"So what was that all about?" Kristen asked anxiously.

"She said that since this is your first time, she's keeping it off your record," I answered her.

"She could have told that to all of us," Kristen thought out loud and then eyed my suspiciously. "Did you flirt with her?"

I normally don't like to tell lies, but I knew that Principal Michelle Petersen wanted discretion and Kristen didn't need to know about my sex life. "She and I have some mutual friends and we were just catching up," I offered and then added before she could question me further, "Go get your stuff. We'll meet you outside."

Kris did as she was told and went off to her locker to collect her school bag. Alex and I walked out of the building and towards the parking lot.

"You have slept with her, haven't you?" Alex asked, and I thought I had detected some amusement in her voice. While I contemplated my answer, she added, "A seventeen year old girl may not have noticed it, but I certainly saw the hesitation between you two when Kristen introduced you."

I shrugged my shoulders. There was no sense in lying. Besides, for some strange reason, I didn't feel right lying to this woman walking with me. "It was a long time ago," I answered.

"You didn't shag her back there in her office did you?" she asked, this time, sounding fearful of the possible truth.

I laughed. "No, we didn't," I answered. "Besides, I like to take my time." I swore I saw her blush. I considered telling her that I was going to see Michelle later in the week, but then realized it would have sounded like I was whoring myself for Kristen. When we got to my bike, I pointed at it. "This is me, obviously."

"Nice bike," she complimented with a smile, giving the Triumph Street Triple a once over.

"Thank you," I accepted and sat sideways on the seat of the bike. "I have a few weaknesses, fast motor vehicles being one of them."

"And women being the other?" she added teasingly.

"Perhaps," I told her and held her gaze for a moment. I decided to change the subject when Grace's voice kept screaming at me to stop flirting. "Did you find out from Kris why she was smoking?"

"No, she was too busy begging me to not tell her parents that we never got 'round to that conversation," Alex answered.

As if on cue, Kristen came out of the school and joined us in the parking lot.

"So, out with it, girl," Alex accosted her immediately. "How long have you been smoking?"

"I haven't," the girl answered sheepishly. "This was my first time."

"What on earth would possess you to try smoking?" Alex continued to interrogate the kid.

"Riley smokes," Kris tried to deflect the topic to me. Alex turned to look at me and I realized that I had a cigarette in my mouth and my lighter in my hand.

"I smoke as a form of occupational therapy," I began to defend myself but then realized what Kris was doing. "Besides, this isn't about me, it's about you," I told her, diverting the conversation back to her.

Alex turned back to Kris and added, "It's a disgusting habit not to mention it's illegal for you and unhealthy!" Alex and Kristen both turned to look at me again.

It was something in the way Alex said "disgusting" that made me lose all desire to light up the tobacco stick. I stopped mid-action and closed the lid of my lighter. I took the cigarette and put it back in the pack, aimed the pack and tossed it into a garbage bin nearby.

"I'll quit so long as you don't start up," I told Kristen after Alex gave me a curious look.

Alex turned back to Kristen, expecting some kind of response from the girl who finally shrugged her shoulders and said, "It was kinda gross anyway. It won't happen again."

"It had better not or you know I'll have to let the parental unit know," I told her and she looked at me as if to say "how could you betray me?"

She's always known that I am a woman of my word, so as long as she kept her nose clean, I would forget about the incident from today. Luckily for her, she accepted today's victory and I knew she wouldn't be caught dead smoking again, at least before she turned eighteen. Softening my demeanor, I asked her, "Do you want a ride or do you wanna risk it with the Brit in the behemoth SUV?"

"Hmmm....motorcycle...Range Rover....motorcycle....Range Rover," Kristen pretended to weigh her options. "Not much of a contest there."

I unlocked the extra helmet I had brought along and she slipped it on. "I'll follow you back to the house," I told Alex.

Alex

We arrived home after awhile as I was still getting used to driving on the wrong side of the street so avoided the freeways as much as possible, which resulted in a lot of side and residential roads to return to Grace's house in Pacific Palisades. But we made it back without incident and Kristen climbed off the motorcycle. For some inexplicable reason, I heard myself ask, "Do you want to stay for a bit? Maybe for dinner?" Riley, still sitting on her motorbike looked at me curiously.

"That is if you don't have any plans," I managed to stutter out. What was I thinking. Of course THE Riley Carson, if she was who Grace seemed to personify her as, would have plans on a day off.

"Are you cooking?" she asked and I couldn't tell if she was horrified at the thought of eating a vegetarian meal or if she was teasing me again.

"Yes, I can cook, thank you very much," I told her, feigning offense at her comment.

"So long as it's not vegetarian lasagna, I'd love to stay," she answered, getting off her motorcycle.

"I promise it won't be vegetarian lasagna," I assured her. She took off her helmet and ruffled her hair which was now a haphazard mess, but nonetheless adorable. 'Christ, get a grip, Alexis!' a voice inside my head shouted at me. I mentally shook my head and we headed into the house where Kristen went off to change out of her school uniform and Riley and I went into the kitchen to get a drink. Riley, to my surprise, declined an offer for a beer and instead chose sparkling water, reasoning that she didn't like to drink and drive, even if it was just one beer. Kristen came down after changing and asked Riley to help her with some chemistry homework. Thankfully Riley was able to help her as I have always been pretty useless when it came to the sciences.

I grabbed my laptop and figured I'd try to see if I could get past my writer's block and settled down at the breakfast counter, a few feet away from the two younger girls to give them some room. I browsed through the archives of the LA Times to see what articles had been written already and what had not to give me a starting point. I caught myself frequently looking over my laptop towards Riley and Kristen and the older one would, intermittently, try to explain something to the teenager animatedly with her hands and arms. She wore a silver ring on her right middle finger and I noticed that she had strong yet feminine hands with long slender fingers.

After she had explained how rates of reactions were calculated, she folded her arms on the counter and watched Kristen work on some exercises from her text book. Riley's right hand was rubbing her left upper arm and when her t-shirt sleeve inched up a bit, I thought I saw another tattoo on her tricep. I wondered just how many tattoos this girl had? I had heard they were addictive but I just thought it was an excuse for people to get more tattoos. My mind began to wonder about other things - When did she first realize she was gay? How many women had she been with? Was she a one-night stand kind of girl or did she ever have girlfriends? If she had girlfriends, then that encounter that left her with a hangover a couple of weeks ago, was that an indiscretion? Had she ever cheated? I must have zoned out because the next thing I knew, she was looking right at me with smirk on her face and I felt myself blushing.

"How's it going?" she asked, giving a nod to my laptop.

I swallowed a mouthful of air. "Um, fine, thank you. Just a bit of writer's block."

"I'm sure you'll come up with something," she answered and gave me a smile and I couldn't help but smile in return. "I've read your blogs. You're a talented writer."

I felt myself blush even more. "Thank you."

She turned back to Kristen and the homework but not before I caught a quick wink. I chastised myself for having been staring at her and then getting caught. I argued with myself that I couldn't help it. There was just something so charming and alluring about her. When was the last time I had met anyone as charming as her? Ah yes, years ago, and I fell in love with him. And he cheated on me. No, I had promised myself that I would not write anything regarding my ex-boyfriend or the heartache I had gone through because then I'd just be another bitter bitch who was done wrong by a man and writing about it. But wait...I looked up at Riley again and I could see why Grace called her a Casanova. She had a very strong sex appeal to her. What if I wrote a series of articles? What if I wrote about infidelities and indiscretions and all the different types and forms they take on? Articles on topics like infidelity are bound to bring in a plethora of comments and that's exactly what newspapers do - they want comments, good or bad, because it meant someone was reading it.

I started to type down my ideas for what I'd write about and before I knew it, I had come up with three possible article ideas for my series. And even if the LA Times editor didn't want it or like them, I could post them on my own blog. Ah, the perks of being a freelance journalist. "You sound like you're on a roll," Riley's voice broke through my thoughts and I looked up to see her sitting on the bar stool beside me.

"I guess when an idea hits, I run with it," I answered and looked at the wall clock. "I guess I best get on with making dinner, shouldn't I?"

"Can I help with anything?" she offered and I was going to say no, but then remembered that I was in the presence of a professional chef. What in the hell was I thinking, inviting a professional chef to have dinner with us?

"The Caesar Salad?" I tossed out as an option.

"Caesar salad I can make," she said smiling.

"Good," I told her and shut down my laptop. "I was going to make mushroom risotto. That alright?"

"Sounds good...but where does the meat come in?" she deadpanned.

Luckily, before I got my knickers in a knot, I realized she was teasing me again. "Indulge me, alright?" I pleaded with her, looking into her green eyes. I saw her tongue flick over her bottom lip and she bit down on it. "Absolutely," she finally said huskily, the brown flecks in her eyes having grown darker.

She went to the fridge to gather whatever ingredients she felt she needed to make the dressing from scratch and I got the rice, vegetable stock, mushrooms and other ingredients for the risotto. I set the stock to begin simmering on the stove while I cut up the shallots, garlic and mushrooms. As I started to slice the first shallot, I thought I heard something from my kitchen companion. I looked over at her and she had a huge grin on her face and I realized she was chuckling at me."What?" I asked self-consciously.

"May I?" she asked softly in that deep voice I have found to be soothing. She held out her hand and it took me a moment to realize that she was asking me for the knife I was holding. I offered her the handle and she moved closer beside me and took it. Holding her right hand open, palm facing upwards, she laid the knife handle in her palm and proceeded to explain to me how to position my middle finger against the back of the blade and how to grasp the knife blade between my thumb and side of my index finger. "Don't treat the knife as an extension of you. It is you," she explained rather seriously.

"Does that work on all the girls?" I teased her and a flash of confusion crossed her facial features.

"What?" she asked.

"The whole Zen of cooking and slicing and dicing," I elaborated and she lowered her head and grinned, her cheeks turning pink.

"Oh," she said with realization. "Yeah, I guess that did come out pretty cheesy." She put the knife down and moved around me to stand on my right side. Her embarrassment was quite cute actually, and for the first time since I had met her, I felt like she wasn't intentionally flirting or turning on the charm.

"Hold out your hand," she told me and I complied, holding my right hand out, palm facing upwards. She put her right hand under mine and placed the knife in my hand. With her hands, she closed my fingers around the knife and positioned my thumb and index finger accordingly. "See how much more control you have over the knife when you hold it this way?" she asked, her hand still on mine as she turned it and we mimicked some cutting motions. I nodded. From the first moment her hand touched mine, I had felt a flush throughout my body and I couldn't trust my voice to not betray the rapid beating inside my chest. She released my hand and handed me one of the shallot bulbs. I started to slice into it and after a couple of cuts, she had me stop and hand her the knife and showed me how to properly dice the shallot. She handed the knife back to me. Her proximity had caused a momentary lapse in my short term memory and I apparently grasped the knife handle incorrectly. She quietly corrected me and adjusted the knife in my hand again and I was able to dice the second shallot to her approval.

She returned to making the salad dressing and the salad and then proceeded to cut up the wild mushrooms while I started to cook the risotto. We chatted amiably while we cooked and I learned that she had taken a year off after high school and travelled through Latin America, Europe and Asia. As she went from place to place, she had begun to appreciate the various local cuisine and flavors. Half way through her travels, she decided to become a chef and applied to the Culinary Institute of America in New York and started her studies after her world tour. She worked in a few restaurants to gain as much experience as she could and saved up to open up Claire de Lune with her best friend. When she talked about her experiences and of her own restaurant, I saw a raw and honest passion that emanated from her. If only more people could be as passionate about their work as she was, there would be a lot more happier people in the world.

When the risotto and mushrooms were cooked, we mixed them together and then I surprised her with a sprinkle of truffle oil on each plate of rice. Kristen and Madison joined us for dinner and retreated back to their rooms to finish their homework and studies. As we cleared the table and were putting the dishes in the dishwasher, I inquired as to when she had gotten into motorcycle riding and she asked if I wanted to go for a ride. The girls were occupied with their studying and Grace had not required a ride from the airport as she was having a car service pick her and Sarah up, so I accepted the invitation. I changed from out of my skirt into a pair of jeans and a leather jacket and we headed out to her bike.

She handed me the spare helmet and before I strapped it on, she outlined her three rules for riding with her, "Hold onto me at all times. Lean with me when I lean. Do not get off the bike until I tell you it's safe. Okay?" she asked, doing up the chin strap on her own helmet. I nodded and she got on her bike and lifted it off the kick stand. She motioned for me to climb on, which I did, and I wrapped my arms around her waist. She started the engine and after checking that I was ready, we rolled down and out the drive way.

I was nervous at first, as I had never been on a motorcycle before, but she handled the bike well, shifting smoothly from one gear to the next. I could tell that she wasn't going as fast as she probably normally did, and I was grateful for it so that I could acclimate myself to the feeling of basically being unprotected on the streets and moving fast. Once we left the busy city streets and found ourselves on more deserted roads in the mountain ranges, she picked up some more speed and we wove and wound our way up the cliffs. The feeling of being on the motorcycle with her was exhilarating and I could see why she rode a bike. Eventually she slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road where there was a patch of ground for stopping on an otherwise narrow roadway. She killed the engine and held the bike for me to dismount first. We went to the edge of the clearing and sat down on the ground.

I looked out and took in the breath taking view. In front of us was the Pacific Ocean and surrounding our sides and backs were mountains. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply and slowly let out my breath. The fresh air and peacefulness of our location relaxed me instantly.

"I've never brought anyone up here with me before," I heard her say softly. I glanced at her and saw her eyes fixed out into the horizon. She looked tranquil. "It's just always been my little place where I can go and just...be."

Her statement, although simplistic, conveyed a lot of meaning and I realized that perhaps being the eldest offspring of a rock star and a supermodel may have been too much of a spotlight on her, although one probably couldn't tell that from seeing and meeting her. I knew what it was like to grow up with famous parents. What it was like making sure that whatever you said or did couldn't come back to harm your parents or their reputation. Luckily for me, Grace's modeling career took the spotlight off of me and I was more than happy to disappear from the public eye to a certain extent when I got older and started to live my own life.

"I have an embarrassing admission to make," I confessed and she looked at me and raised her eyebrows, her facial expression soft and encouraging.

"I've been here once before, but by complete accident," I told her. "I had gone out to the store one day and was driving home when I took a wrong turn and got lost. Of course I was too proud to stop and ask for directions, thinking my sense of direction was better than what it really was, and anyway, I somehow ended up here. I would have panicked about being lost, but when I sat and looked out at the ocean, it didn't seem so bad that I was lost. Eventually a passerby gave me directions back to Grace's home. I've been wanting to come back here but I can't remember how for the life of me."

"Well, I'm glad to be of service," she said with a nod of her head and a swing of her arm out towards the view. I couldn't help but smile.

Riley

She smiled a genuine smile of amusement which reached all the way to her bright eyes and made her dimples appear. The breeze blew her long wavy hair across her face and I instinctively reached out and tucked some hair behind her ear. Her smile faded and I saw her eyes quickly flicked from my own eyes down to my mouth and back up. I pulled my hand back. "I'm sorry," I apologized. "It's just an involuntary reaction I have. I know you're straight, so, um, I'm not trying to hit on you or anything like that." I heard myself babble on and forced myself to stop before I made an even bigger fool out of myself.

"Oh, okay, no apology required," she told me and I thought I heard a slight hint of disappointment. "I'm comfortable with you being gay and I'm not going to take every action or statement as flirtation."

"Good," I said, relieved. Wait, but what if I wanted to flirt with her? Would she be oblivious to it? 'No! No flirting with Alex!' I heard Grace's voice in my head scolding me.

"So what brought you out to Califor-nigh-eh?" I asked, trying to change the subject to something more neutral. "Speaking as a native Californian, it may be beautiful here, but it's not exactly London, you know?"

"I needed a change in scenery and Grace was feeling a bit overwhelmed with the divorce," she answered and seemed to hesitate for a moment before she continued, "I had just gotten out of a five year relationship and I suppose I just needed an excuse to sell my flat."

"Too many memories?" I asked, treading lightly. I had no idea what being in an adult relationship was like, much less a five year one, and from what Grace told me, it appeared to have ended badly.

"Yeah," she answered, looking out at the ocean. "It was a blessing in disguise though. I had lost myself in the relationship, so now I'm just going to take my time and just....be." I looked over at her and saw a smile tugging on the corners of her mouth as she echoed my earlier comment.

I offered her a smile in appreciation of her teasing. "I have no idea what it's like to be in a relationship," I admitted and she looked at me as if she was waiting for me to continue with "of five years." When I didn't say anything more, she raised her eyebrows.

"You've never been in a relationship?" she asked, disbelievingly.

"Not unless you count sleeping with the same person for three consecutive weeks in college," I answered. I bit down on my lower lip "I'm a random hookup kind of girl. I'm just not cut out for relationships with women. I love women - it's just that they tend to get too needy for my capabilities. I have enough stress at work as it is so I just wanna take it easy when I'm not there."

"I don't think all women are too needy," she countered and I wondered if she thought I implied she was a needy type..

"I didn't say that all women are needy," I explained and then added, "I haven't slept with all the women in the world so I can't attest to their requirements."

At that, she laughed, asking "How many women have you slept with?"

I sucked on my bottom lip, contemplating my answer. She must have taken my pause as a bad sign because she quickly added, "I'm sorry, that's really none of my business."

"No, I was just trying to do a mental count," I shook it off lightly. "Let's just say I've slept with enough to know I'm not the relationship type."

"You're very adamant about that aren't you?" she asked, looking at me sideways. "The relationship thing."

"I like to be honest," I told her. "I don't make pretenses about what I look for when it comes to women."

"And how's that working out for you?" she asked teasingly.

"Most of the time it works out fine," I admitted. "But every once in a while, someone will be convinced that they can convert me, using the 'you just haven't met the right woman' argument."

"And you don't believe that," she commented.

"I believe there are those who are capable of relationships," I answered. "I'm just not one of them. I don't have that gene that monogamous people have."

"So it's not so much that you don't want to be in a relationship, you just don't want to be stuck with one person," she pointed out.

"That's exactly why I don't do relationships - people who are in them call it being 'stuck'," I teased back. "Let's just say I have a broad appreciation for women and I want to get to know as many of them as I can."

She laughed and shook her head. "You really are your father's daughter aren't you?"

"Life's short," I answered. "You gotta enjoy it while you can."

"You're absolutely right about that one," she concurred and we sat for awhile longer in a companionable silence, enjoying the view. It felt different, spending time with an attractive woman and not actively flirting. We seemed to have a mutual affinity for teasing one another, but in a relaxed and honest way. After the sun had set completely, we headed back to the house.

"Thank you so much," she said, after she dismounted the bike and took off her helmet. I turned off the engine and strapped the extra helmet back onto my bike. Just then, a car pulled up and it was Grace returning from the airport. We helped Grace with her luggage into the house.

"Where have you kids been?" Grace asked lightly but I knew she was taking the situation in any way but light.

"I was helping Kris with her homework and stayed for dinner," I answered, not giving away why I was over at their house in the first place. "Then we just went for a ride up to Malibu."

Alex asked if I wanted to stay for a drink. I was going to accept, but the look on Grace's face made me think better of it so I politely declined.

"You have somewhere else to be?" she teased me again.

"Something like that," I answered and smiled. I had found myself smiling quite a bit in her company.

"Thank you again," she said. "I had a wonderful time."

"You're welcome," I told her.

"I'll walk you out," Grace said and ushered me out the front door, her arm hooked onto mine.

"How was New York?" I asked, intentionally avoiding the lecture I knew was coming.

"New York was busy but it went well," she answered, obviously not interested in sharing any details with me at the moment. "What are you doing with Alex?"

"Nothing," I told her. "We just went for a ride. I'm not trying to flirt with her. I'm not trying to do anything. She's straight. I don't try to convert straight girls, okay? That's not my scene. Especially straight girls who've been hurt recently."

Grace sighed. "I'm sorry, Rye," she said and I could feel the tension slowly leaving her body. "It's just that she's my baby sister and she's been through a lot lately. And I know the affect you have on women, yes, even straight women. I just don't want Alex getting hurt."

I nodded. Grace was right. Despite my honesty with the women I have slept with, I can't honestly say that none of them ever got hurt. Suddenly I found it difficult to say the next words, but I forced myself to say them to Grace. "I promise I'll keep my distance."

"Don't forget," she said. "Kris' birthday party on Saturday."

"I didn't forget," I told her. "I'll knock off early and I'll be there. Joe treating you well?" I asked, referring to the caterer whom I had introduced them to for the party.

"He's wonderful," she answered. "Ride safely."

I nodded and pulled on my helmet and rode off.

I pulled up to the familiar white house shortly after midnight and rang the doorbell. The door opened and Michelle was wearing a spaghetti strap tank top and silk pajama pants.

"You're late," she scolded me in a teacher-like manner. I stepped into the house, closing the door behind me and held out my arms to show her I was wearing my riding gear. "Forgiven," she acquiesced and grabbed me by the jacket and pulled me into a hungry kiss. I dropped my helmet onto the armchair beside the door as she pushed me up against the door, her body pinned against mine.

While our lips and tongues got re-acquainted, she proceeded to strip me of my leather jacket and I cupped her ass with my hands. She started kissing my neck as her hands slid under my shirt. I stopped her hands with my own and instead, stripped her of her shirt and pants, revealing her black lace bra and matching thong. We continued to kiss as I tried guiding her to her couch but we got distracted and ended up on her living room floor.

"You're wearing too many clothes," she told me in between kisses.

"Patience," I told her and began kissing her neck and down her chest. Removing her bra I gently tugged on her right nipple, before paying the left one a little more attention. For my efforts she arched her back, pressing her breasts into my mouth. I rewarded her with a slight bite that made her breathing grow heavy and ragged as she told me, "I need... you...fuck me now!"

It wasn't the first time I'd heard this in my life and I know my cocky grin only fueled her more. I watched as she took off her thong, threw it at me, and positioned herself on her hands and knees on the couch, her ass slightly raised for me to slip between the cushions and where she wanted me. She spread her legs wide and wasted no time grinding herself onto my tongue, setting her own rhythm as she rocked. When she picked up her pace, I slid two fingers inside her, curling them upward as I began to pulse both them and my mouth against her in perfect sync with one another. I felt her start to tighten, her orgasm growing from within, before she began bucking against my face and hand, her mouth screaming out profanities that would surely have earned detention at her school.

When she came down from her orgasm, her upper body collapsed down onto her arms on the couch, her ass still on display and I appreciated the view she was giving me. I pulled away and stripped my t-shirt off and moved to hover over her when she decided at that moment to push herself up. The last thing I remembered was the back of her head crashing against my face and then a white blinding pain. I must have yelled out because soon she was sitting up with me, apologizing profusely. I removed my hands from my face and saw blood in them. She fumbled for some tissues on the table behind the couch and when I went to wipe my nose, I was almost blinded again by the pain. "What the fuck!" I yelled out.

"Holy shit, I think I broke your nose!" she said, panicked at first and then when I caught her eye and realized that she was probably right, along with the state of undress we were in, something in both of us snapped and we started to laugh.

"Stop, it hurts when I laugh," I told her. Still holding the tissue under my nose, I went in search of my phone in my jacket.

"Lemme get dressed and I'll take you to the hospital," she said, heading off to her bedroom.

"I'll ride my bike," I called out stubbornly but when I bent down to get my jacket off the floor, the pain shot through my face again and more blood dripped out of my hose.

"Like hell you will," she told me when she returned, pulling on a t-shirt and zipping up her jeans.

We headed to her car and I dialed Lenny's number. Luckily she and her girlfriend, Gabriella, were at the house and so I asked them to meet me at the hospital to give me a ride home. When we pulled up to the ER entrance, I thanked her for the ride and said that I already arranged for a ride home.

"I'm not just going to drop you off like this," she said.

"It's okay, see, my ride's here already," I pointed to Lenny's car pulling into the parking lot "Besides, I wouldn't want them to have you arrested for assaulting me during sex."

"I am so sorry," she said for the nth time.

"You owe me one," I told her and gave her a wink. I got out of the car and waited for Lenny and Gabriella. When Michelle saw that I had company, she pulled away and drove off.

Lenny took one look at the bloody tissues I was holding against my nose and said, "I guess you can't say it's boring anymore."

"Bite me," was all I could think of through the pain. "What took you guys so long? Our house is only five minutes away."

"Sorry...strap-on," Lenny deadpanned.

Alex

The house was filled with people, mostly teenagers, as they all gathered to wish Kris a happy seventeenth birthday. I mingled and chatted with some of them but spent most of the evening chatting with Grace, Sarah, Rod and even Sal. Surprisingly, Sal and Grace were very well behaved around each other and I was glad to see that they were able to put aside their issues for Kristen's sake so that she could enjoy her special day.

"Where's your new girlfriend?" Madison asked Sal when she and her best friend, Kenzie, came over and joined us. So much for trying to keep the peace. Ever since the divorce, Madison had made no effort to hide her hostility towards any of Sal's new female companions.

"Not here," Sal answered calmly and added, "Today's your sister's day and I'm here to help her celebrate." I glanced over at Grace and saw her give him an appreciative smile. I smiled inwardly, glad that the two adults in the family were finally behaving maturely.

As we sat around, we all reminisced about Kristen growing up and I realized how much of my niece's lives I had missed out on having lived on the other side of the world. But now that I was living here and Madison was going to college close to home and Kristen was going to do the same, I would get a chance to know them a little better as adults.

Grace and Sal left to chat with the guests as the party was winding down and people were making their exodus. I headed into the kitchen to refill my wine glass. When I entered the kitchen, Kristen was talking to someone with a blond faux-hawk. I wasn't sure who it was as she had her back to me, but given the posture that exuded confidence and plain coolness, even from behind, I had a pretty good guess.

"This is so cool! Thanks, Riley," Kristen said, indicating an envelope she was holding in her hand and they embraced.

"Happy Birthday, kiddo," Riley told her and they broke apart.

"Do you want some ice?" Kristen asked but Riley shook her head.

"I've taken some pain killers and I've been icing it pretty much all day already. Go, say bye to your friends," the chef's deep voice replied. Kristen smiled and left the kitchen. Riley turned around and I was shocked at what I saw. Her nose was swollen and she had black eyes. She looked like she had been hit by a truck and was in pain.

"Oh my God, what happened?" I asked, feeling an uncontrollable urge to do something to help her. I walked over to her and my hand involuntarily lifted to touch her face. I quickly realized that I didn't want to risk causing her more pain so stopped myself.

"Long story but basically I have a broken nose," she answered sheepishly and I could have sworn she was blushing.

"Does it hurt? It looks painful," I said, wincing.

"When the pain killers wear off, yes, it hurts," she answered. "But right now, it's just annoying because I can't breathe through my nose very well."

"God, when did it happen?" I continued to inquire.

"Last night," she answered and I realized that she wasn't going to elaborate any further. "So where are the people I do recognize?"

"Outside in the back," I replied. I grabbed a wine bottle while she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and we headed out to the back yard.

As soon as Sarah and Rod saw their firstborn, they were immediately on their feet and by her side, inquiring about what happened. Riley, always cool and unaffected, simply said "It was an accident. I'm fine," and sat down on part of the sectional sofa with her parents. Sarah put an arm around her and to my surprise, Riley leaned her head on her mother's shoulder while Sarah wrapped her arm protectively around her. "My poor baby," I heard Sarah hush.

"What happened, a jealous girlfriend or boyfriend?" Rod asked with amusement.

"No," Riley said, her eyes closed but then I saw a smirk on her lips, one which was practically identical to her father's. "Not this time." I shook my head in wonder at just what kind of lifestyle this mysterious young woman led.

"Oh my God, did you steal someone's girlfriend?" Grace's voice asked from behind me as she, Kristen and Sal returned from having seen off the guests for the night.

"No," Riley answered, her eyes opened this time, a hint of frustration in her voice, but then she added flippantly, "At least I don't think so. Look, it wasn't a violent situation or a fight or anything like that so don't worry about it."

"Are you going to need surgery?" Sal asked.

"No, the doctor in the ER last night didn't think so," she answered. "I have to go back after the swelling goes down so they can check it again."

"Seriously, what happened?" Sarah asked, full of concern.

"I walked into a wall," Riley answered.

"You're not going to tell us are you?" Madison inquired with a knowing smile.

"Nope," came the reply, her head still on Sarah's shoulder.

"Did it involve one of your hussies?" Sarah teased.

"Are you kidding me? Your precious is the hussy!" Grace pointed out and laughed.

Riley just rolled her eyes and shook her head. "You know, I haven't had a smoke in five days. I really do not need the abuse right now, especially about my social life."

Everyone gave her a questioning look at her admission about her tobacco habit but she raised a hand and shook her head again, putting a stop to any impending questions.

"My friends think it's great that you're so open about being gay," Kristen said, lying down on the other part of the sectional sofa, her head on Grace's lap and her feet on Sal's lap. It felt like old times having everyone together again.

"So, how did you come out to Uncle Rod and Aunt Sarah?" Kristen asked.

"I didn't exactly come out to them," Riley said hesitantly. I arched an eyebrow questioningly. I would've thought that as confident and self-assured as she was, she probably came out as soon as she first realized she liked girls.

"No, she got caught," Sarah added, laughing.

"You got caught?" Madison, Kenzie and Kristen asked in unison, wide eyed. "How?"

"Well..." Sarah began and Riley closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Oh, I remember that night!" Grace interjected, grinning.

"Please, they don't need to hear this," Riley said and laid her head down onto Sarah's lap and pulled her jacket over her head. She curled up her body onto the sofa. She looked adorably child like, wearing jeans and canvas sneakers. Her fetal position on the couch was a stark contrast to the edgy punk rocker image that her faux-hawk gave off.

I was thoroughly intrigued by now to find out what could have happened that would cause this much embarrassment to the young Casanova.

"It was the summer that Riley came back from Europe," Sarah began the story. "We had gone out for dinner with your parents and she was at home alone. I believe Sam was over here babysitting you girls. At any rate, we were supposed to go to a show but for some reason it got cancelled and we came home to just hang out and have some drinks."

"Kill me now," I heard Riley mumble from under her jacket.

"Anyway, we came home and the next thing we knew, Riley was coming into the house, her hair was wet and her clothes sticking to her so it was obvious she was in the pool and just haphazardly threw her clothes on," Sarah continued. "Clearly she wasn't expecting us home so soon. Then a girl comes out from the guest bathroom, Riley introduced us, and then walked the girl out to her car."

"So there was a point in time when you remembered the girls' names," Madison teased.

"So while Riley's seeing this girl off, I went to sit on the couch and noticed something under the coffee table. I pull it out and it's a bra. So Sarah checks the label and it's clear the bra didn't belong to Riley," Grace continued the story.

"How?" Kristen asked with rapt attention.

"Well, 'cause the bra was a D cup and well, Riley...is not," Sarah said, pulling the jacket off of Riley's head to reveal the blushing blond. We all chuckled at the chef's expense.

"So she comes back into the house and Sarah's dangling this bra in front of her and Riley tries to pass it off as hers, being all apologetic about leaving her clothes around the house," Grace continued. "Your father comes over to the couch to sit down and lifts up a throw pillow and there's the matching undergarment to the bra. There was no way in hell any of us were going to touch it."

"By now, I'm trying to process why that girl's underwear was strewn around in my living room and Riley was just fixated with staring at the floor," Sarah added. "I told her to make sure her 'friend' got her underwear back and I went upstairs with your mother to change and well, get over the shock of what I had just discovered."

"What did you do, Uncle Rod?" Madison asked the blond haired bass guitar player.

"Yeah, Dad, what did you do?" Riley repeated.

Rod pursed his lips and said, proudly, "I told her 'D cup? Well done, kiddo!' and your father and I took her out to the patio and poured her a drink and gave her a cigar."

Sarah shook her head and rolled her eyes. "I couldn't believe how you guys were egging her on."

Rod and Sal both gave her a shoulder shrug as if they didn't know what she was talking about.

"You asked if Riley was that girl's first and then you gave her this," Sarah recollected, holding her hand up in the universal "rock 'n roll" gesture with the index finger and pinky finger sticking up. "And then when you asked her if she was in love, she said 'Love's a strong four letter word.' and you agreed with her. Not only that, you told her to never promise marriage!"

"Because what does marriage lead to, Dad?" Riley asked snarkily.

"Marriage leads to lesbian bed death," Rod said very matter-of-factly.

"And you know this how?" Riley continued asking her father with whom she obviously shared an appreciation for women and a fear of commitment.

"Well, I'm a learned man," Rod replied, smiling.

"Can someone show me where the Tylenol is?" Riley asked, sitting up. "I think I need some more painkillers after this little session."

I had noticed since the moment that Riley joined us, Kenzie had been subtly stealing glances at her, so it was no surprise to me when Kenzie volunteered and led her into the house and Sarah continued to chide Rod about how they had encouraged and passed on his womanizing ways to their daughter. As much as Sam was Sarah's daughter, Riley was clearly Rod's daughter, from the physical resemblance to their love of women. But hands down, Riley was much prettier than her father.

Grace re-filled everyone's glasses with wine and emptied the bottle I had brought out. I got up and offered to get some more from the house, which earned me a questioning look from my sister. I grabbed a bottle of Merlot from the wine rack in the kitchen and was about to return to the back yard when I heard Kenzie's and Riley's voices in the hallway on the other side of the wall from the kitchen. I knew I should've left them alone but I was curious when I heard Kenzie's voice ask, "Do you, um, wanna go out some time...for coffee maybe?"

"Kenzie, does Maddi know that you're..." Riley asked softly.

"Gay?" Kenzie finished the question.

"Asking me out?" Riley corrected her.

"No," Kenzie replied. "I think she knows that I like you, but she doesn't know I'm asking you out."

"You're what, nineteen?" Riley asked.

"Twenty," Kenzie answered.

"Kenzie, I'm flattered, I really am. I've known you for a few years and I know what a wonderful person you are, and if I were younger and the girlfriend/relationship type, I'd say yes in a heartbeat," Riley said to her softly. "But I don't do the dating thing, so I'm not exactly the best...choice for you. You're young. Go out, meet other girls, have fun, and if you're still interested, call me when you're twenty-one." There was some silence which I assumed was some kind of understanding between then and then I heard Riley add, "Thanks for showing me where the Tylenol is."

I took that as my cue to make my way out. "Hey," Riley's voice called out to me. I turned around and smiled, a stirring of concern rising up inside of me as I took in her swollen nose and black eyes again. I held up the bottle of wine and indicated the crowd outside with a tilt of my head. "Alkies," I joked.

"Are you alright?" I asked, more seriously.

"I'm fine, this isn't the first time they've embarrassed me and it won't be the last," she answered and it took me a moment to realize she was referring to the story of her coming out.

"I meant your nose," I clarified with a smile.

"Oh, right," she said and nodded. "Just an unfortunate accident."

I offered her a comforting smile and I don't know why but she added meekly, "I was with someone and she moved one way, I moved the other, and next thing I know, I have a broken nose."

"There's a lot to be said about safe sex," I joked lamely but actually got a smile out of her in return.

Just then, everyone started to pile into the house from the patio. Apparently a challenge had been thrown out about who had dancing skills and who didn't and so they were going to bring out the dancing video game. Shrugging our shoulders, we joined them in the family room.

Part 2

Riley

I was never one for the dancing video game or any dancing that was PG-rated that would've been appropriate in front of my family, so I decided to sit out on the competition that had started to get into full swing as song after song was played. They started with Uncle Sal and my dad competing to see who was the better dancer. Sal won and so he held court for the next challenger, Aunt Grace, who beat him hands down. Then my mom challenged and beat Aunt Grace. Eventually it was Kris who remained undefeated against Madison and Kenzie. After I refused to join in on the shenanigans, Alex stepped up to the plate.

The music came on and I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She didn't just follow the directions on screen, but had moves that involved her ass, hips and hands slithering over her body that made my jaw drop, literally. I was just staring wide eyed and mesmerized when I felt a hand on my chin. My mom was pushing my mouth closed.

"Try not to drool, sweetie," she whispered into my ear.

"I'm not..." I tried to deny it but I knew better than to argue with my mother. "I need some more water." I headed into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and downed about half of the bottle. 'Down boy,' I told myself. Confident that I was able to return to the group without my eyes wandering over Alex's ass and wondering what she looked like naked, I headed downstairs to the family room.

"You should go with Riley," I heard my father say. "She knows a lot about that stuff."

"What stuff?" I asked, sitting down next to my dad.

"Cell phones," my father answered. "Alex needs a new one. You can take her tomorrow, no?"

I opened my mouth to answer in the affirmative until I saw the death stare that Aunt Grace was throwing my way and changed my mind. "I, um, I have to work tomorrow," I said lamely. I gave Alex an apologetic smile.

"You don't go into work until the afternoon," my mom chimed in. "There's this part of the day that comes before the afternoon called morning when the majority of people are actually productive instead of sleeping off a hangover."

"We're going to Mass tomorrow morning," Grace interjected.

"Right!" my dad said and put his arm around me. "Come to Mass and then you can take Alex out shopping." My mother gave me a look which pretty much said "don't you dare say no to Mass."

I sometimes appreciated my dad's cluelessness. "Does after Mass work for you?" I asked Alex.

Alex looked at me as if to apologize for having put me in an awkward position and said, "I'm not in any hurry. If you're busy, I understand."

"She's not busy," my dad answered for me. I simply shrugged and repeated his sentiments, "I'm not busy."

I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen counter and started eating a bowl of grits and fried apples.

"You're up early," Lenny came into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. I looked at the clock. It was shortly after nine. "You're usually stumbling into the house at this time."

I swallowed a mouthful of food. "I'm going to Mass and then I'm helping a friend shop for a cell phone," I told her.

Lenny almost choked. on her coffee. In fact, she did choke. Once the coughing subsided and she regained her breath, she looked at me. "You haven't been to Mass in over ten years. Why start now?"

"You don't know what it's like to have a Catholic mother," I answered and Lenny conceded.

"But I do know all your friends and none of them are in need of a new phone," Lenny eyed me suspiciously. She was right.

"Alex, Grace's sister," I told her and I could see the gears turning in her head.

"Oh, right, the hot vegetarian," Lenny and her cursed photographic memory recalled. "I thought you weren't allowed to tap that."

"No one said I wasn't allowed," I rationalized. "It's just strongly discouraged. Besides, who said anything about flirting? I like her and I wouldn't mind being friends with her."

"You don't get up before noon for any of your friends," my housemate and best friend continued to harass me.

"I get up before noon for you," I reminded her.

"True, but that's because I'm special," she said.

"A special case yes," I teased her.

She playfully gave me the evil eye and then just plain out eyed me suspiciously. "You're gonna hit that aren't you?"

I shook my head and got up, placing my utensils and bowl in the dishwasher. "She's straight."

"Never stopped you before," Lenny continued to pester me.

I shook my head again and headed upstairs, but not before slapping Lenny's ass first. I changed into a pair of jeans, threw on a dark red t-shirt and a black blazer over top so that I wouldn't look too casual for church. My black eyes had faded significantly and the swelling in my nose had gone down. It was still painful so I popped a couple of pain killers and jumped into the car and headed to a church in which I hadn't stepped foot inside for over a decade. I found my family right where they always were, second pew from the back, on the right hand side. Aunt Grace and Alex and the girls were with them as well. Alex was at the end of the row and slid over as I approached and so I sat down beside her.

Claire wormed her way out off my father's lap and weaseled her way past Aunt Grace, the girls and Alex and onto my lap. I gave her a tight squeeze and we stood up for the procession entrance. Soon enough Claire was sent off to her Sunday School class and returned back in my arms before Communion. After communion, as we sat back in our pew, Alex leaned over to me and whispered, "I didn't take you for a Mass attending kind of girl." I felt a tingle in my spine when her breath touched my ear.

I turned to her and whispered back, "I'm only here for the crackers and wine." She smiled and shook her head and I thought I caught a hint of blush in her cheeks and goosebumps on her arms.

After Mass, my parents took Claire shopping to give my sister and brother--in-law a break and I led Alex to my car. As we walked away from Aunt Grace and the girls, Aunt Grace gave me the "I'm watching you" warning by pointing to her eyes with her index and middle finger and then pointed her finger at me.

"Riley, you don't have to take me shopping," Alex said to me. "I know you're busy and you're only doing this because your dad volunteered you."

I offered her a smile. "No, it's okay," I told her. "If I didn't want to, I'd have come up with an excuse."

She looked at me as if she wasn't quite convinced but she let it slide. When we got to my Audi R8, she let out a laugh. "You really do have an weakness for fast vehicles."

"It was my thirtieth birthday present from my parents a few months ago," I told her. "Believe it or not, running a restaurant, a new one, isn't that profitable."

Once we got strapped in and I started driving, she asked, "What's going on between you and Grace? I couldn't help but notice that she's very stern with you and last night when you were coerced into taking me shopping today, she was practically throwing daggers at you with her eyes."

"Nothing," I tried to say innocently. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't give me that," she told me. "Grace is my sister. I know when she's up to something."

I exhaled. "She doesn't want me around you," I revealed. "Actually, it's more like she doesn't want me flirting with you, and so if I'm not around you, there won't be any chance of flirting."

Alex let out a sigh of disbelief and then she looked at me sideways with a mischievous smile. "Have you been flirting with me?"

"No! No, no, no...I haven't been flirting," I stuttered and then took a deep breath. "Alex, if I was flirting with you, you'd know it."

"Oh really?" she asked, apparently quite amused. "So you're just naturally charming then."

"Wait, do you think I've been flirting with you?" I asked. I thought she had said that night in Malibu that she wasn't going take every statement or gesture as flirting. Then again, I had promised that I wouldn't flirt, and truth be told, I hadn't stuck to my promise completely.

"No, of course not!" she protested and then paused briefly. Then she added quietly, "I do think you are charming though."

I had never heard such a soft and tender comment like that before from anyone and I couldn't help but smile and I felt myself blush. "Thank you," I told her.

"So then, what does it sound like when Riley Carson flirts with a girl?" she asked, teasingly.

When I shook my head and smiled, she teased me further. "Come on, out with it," she continued. "What's your opening line?"

I pulled up to a red light and stopped. I turned to her, blinked slowly and when I opened my eyes, I fixed my gaze onto hers and smiled. I softly said, "Hi, I'm Riley."

She grinned and I thought she was going to bust out laughing, but instead she blinked a few times as if she was breaking out of a daze. "That really works does it?" she asked, almost breathlessly.

"Yeah, most of the time," I said keeping my voice low and quiet, my eyes fixed on her incredibly bright blue eyes, my smile still intact. After what felt like an eternity, she blinked and broke eye contact and smiled. I turned back to the road and started driving again, smiling smugly as I knew I was having an affect on her.

"I'd like to see you in action and see if that really does work," she challenged me.

"Come out with me sometime," I suggested.

"You're on," she accepted. "Just let me know when."

I nodded and we started to discuss what she wanted in a new phone and what she planned on doing with it. After driving for a bit more, I pulled up to the store and she looked out the window.

"iPhones are so popular - everyone's got 'em," she said, almost in a whining tone.

"Come play with one and you'll find out why," I told her and we got out of the car and headed into the apple store. We headed over to the display models and I started to show her the phones and it's different features. She perked up and really took an interest in the phone when I started telling her about how she could blog with the iPhone, complete with pictures too.

"Hi, is there anything I can help you with?" a young blond asked us and there was something familiar about her.

"My friend here is looking for a new phone," I explained, "so she's just trying it out."

"If you have any questions, just let me know," the girl said to Alex and then looked at me. "My name's Payton."

"I'm Riley," I said to her and gave her one of my crooked smiles, which earned me a grin and I knew I had her. I turned back to Alex who rolled her eyes and shook her head at me. "Are you gonna be okay for a couple of minutes? I'll just be over there," I told her with a jerk of my head towards the back wall of accessories.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," she answered and laughed. I turned back to Payton and she led me to look for an accessory for my iPhone - her phone number.

Alex

I hadn't wanted to give her the satisfaction that her opening line in the car had affected me so I had tried my best to hold onto my nerves, but in all reality, there was something about how she introduced herself. The smokey eyes with an arched left eyebrow, the crooked smile that brought out the tiniest hint of laugh lines at one corner of her mouth, and those full lips were absolutely mesmerizing. I wondered how long it had taken her to perfect that look and it was clear she knew the look worked in her favor. It worked on the Apple girl as she all but drooled as soon as Riley said her name. I'd be lying if I said the image of Riley walking away with that girl didn't stab a pang of jealousy that ran through me. But why was I jealous? I'm not gay, I'm not interested in Riley. Was I just jealous that she had this uncanny ability to charm anyone and everyone? That's probably what it was.

As I started to tap and slide my finger around on the iPhone's touch screen, I became aware of someone standing next to me. "Alex?" a deep voice asked and I looked up. His face was familiar but his name escaped me.

He must have saw the hesitation and confusion on my face because he added, "Mark Weiser. We met at that luncheon at The Plaza a couple of weeks ago," he reminded me. "I’m the travel writer."

"Right, how are you?" I asked. We continued with some idle chitchat about how I was settling into the city and he gave the iPhone a glowing endorsement when I told him that I was here with a friend to look for a new phone.

"Hey, I've been meaning to try out this French restaurant in town. What do you say, sometime next week, we can go for dinner?" he asked and when I hesitated, he added, "I know the owner." Was he trying to impress me?

"I’m not sure what my schedule's like this week," I tried to decline. I never was very good at saying no.

"Come on, it's just dinner," he added. "You can tell me about how your column's coming along. How about Friday?"

"Yeah, sure, I think Friday's alright," I gave in. I gave him my email address so he could send me the name of the restaurant. Thankfully he got a phone call and left me in peace. Just then, the iPhone I had been holding in my hand rang and vibrated. I pressed on the touch screen to answer it, "Hello?"

"Now look at the phone and accept the invite," a voice told me. I pulled the phone down from my ear and looked at the screen. An invitation popped up for something called FaceTime. After a few seconds, I saw Riley's face on the phone. She smiled that same one sided smile again and said "Hi."

The combination of her smile and the way she said a simple 'hi' made me smile instantly. I looked around and then saw a familiar head of blond hair at the other end of the table of iPhones. "Pretty cool hey?" she asked and I nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it is. Alright, I'm sold."

We got Payton to set me up with a phone and an hour after we had entered the store, we were walking out and I was in possession of a new mobile and some accessories to boot.

"So that curly haired guy a friend of yours?" Riley asked as we got into her car.

"Which curly haired guy?" I asked, surprised by her question.

"The one who was talking to you before I called you," she clarified.

"Oh, right," I finally realized she was referring to Mark. "I met him at a luncheon a while back. He's a writer for the L.A. Times." I saw her nod and when she didn't reply, for some reason, I added, "He asked me out for dinner."

Riley took a quick glance in my direction and turned her eyes back to the road. "And?" she inquired. I couldn't quite read her facial expression.

"And I gave in and said yes," I admitted. "I don't really have many friends here, and well, he's a fellow writer so, just a little networking, you know?"

"I'm pretty sure he wasn't asking you to network," she said and it sounded like she was teasing but there was a slight edge in her voice. Was she jealous?

"I have no interest in him whatsoever," I felt compelled to tell her. "I haven't really been out socially since I’ve been here so hopefully it'll be nice to get out finally."

She nodded but didn't say anything further on the topic. "And what about Payton? Did you get a date out of her?" I teased her and she smiled but shook her head.

"I was going to ask her to meet up at a club tonight, but then found out that she's one of my best friend's ex-girlfriends," she answered. "Despite what you may have heard from Aunt Grace, I do have rules, and one of them is to never hook up with any of Lenny's exes."

"You're a loyal friend," I stated.

"Well, that and I want to avoid as much drama as possible," she explained.

"So what are your other rules?" I asked, curious to know more about this female Casanova.

"Actually, I only have one other rule," she answered. "I don't hook up with anyone under twenty-one. If they can't drink legally, it's hands off. Safer that way."

"I notice you don't say 'date', but rather you use 'hook up'," I observed.

"That's because I don't date," she replied simply and smiled.

I had insisted with Mark that I'd meet him at the restaurant as I had no interest in having him know where I lived. When he told me the name and address of the restaurant, I was quite amused and decided that I'd go with it and see if he really did know the owner of the establishment.

After we were seated at a table by the window, I saw Lenny, the manager walking towards our table and a wave of recognition washed over her face. I quickly gave her a shake of the head and wink and the clever girl knew what I meant. She introduced herself and took our drink order and informed us who our server would be.

Throughout the entire dinner, Mark basically talked non-stop about himself and his travels and how he became a writer for the L.A. Times. He revealed that he had met the owner of Claire de Lune years ago while traveling through Spain, before she was even a chef. To stress his point, when Lenny came by to check on us, he said "Send our compliments to the chef, from an old friend."

The restaurant had nearly emptied out, save for three other tables, by the time we had our coffee and I saw a familiar figure enter the dining room in black pants and a white chef's jacket. Obviously Lenny had passed on that I didn't want to let on that I was familiar with Riley as she came up to us and said "Good evening folks. And how was your dinner?"

"Riley, hey, it's Mark Weiser," he told her, shaking her hand. "We met in Barcelona back in '98. You were making your way to Asia and I had just come through there."

"Oh yeah, right, we hung out at the hostel and you told me all about Indonesia and Malaysia," Riley said with genuine recognition. "You were writing a book. How'd that go?"

"The manuscript got me into the L.A. Times and I've been writing their Travel column for a few years now," he answered. That was a pretty clever way of saying his book never got published. He went on to say how he'd been meaning to check out the restaurant and asked about how Rod and Sarah were as if he was a long time family friend. Riley, ever so politely, let him have the spotlight as he tried to impress me with is connections. Finally Riley took leave from us but not before she leaned down and kissed me on the cheek and said "It's good to see you again, Alex. You look beautiful." She had a mischievous grin on her face, but in her eyes, I saw sincerity which was also reflected in her tone.

She left us and went over to the other tables to visit with them, leaving Mark to look at me, his mouth agape. "You know her?" he asked, realizing that Riley had called me by name. I was looking beyond him, at Riley who glanced back at me and gave me a wink. I inexplicably found myself smiling in return. "Yes, I know her," I finally told Mark. "My sister is her godmother."

"Oh," was all my dinner companion offered.

After Mark left, I left my car and headed back into the restaurant. I thanked Lenny for catching my non-verbal communication and asked if I could go back into the kitchen to say goodnight to Riley. Lenny led me to the back and through the kitchen doors. She looked around for a bit and then finally pointed to the back and I saw Riley standing at the sink, her back to me.

Riley

The symphonic metal music poured out from the speakers over the sink as I grabbed the spray handle and sprayed down the pots and pans I had just finished scrubbing. It was a routine of mine to kick the dishwasher off his station to scrub down the counters and grill with the rest of the crew while I washed the dishes. He tried resisting the first couple of times when he first joined us, but after getting sprayed and my threats of letting Jason loose on him with the broom, he stopped resisting and just fell in line with my routine. He tried asking me once why I wanted to wash the dishes at the end of every night. The reply he got was, "Jorge, move your ass or I'm letting Jason have it." Threats of sodomy by my sous chef were always quite affective.

Jason understood me as he's been known to do the dishes sometimes in between seatings on some nights. Scrubbing and washing the pots and pans brings us back to our humble days of our first jobs. It reminds us of the shit we've had to take from other chefs in the past and calls up the shit we give to our line cooks and dishwasher on a daily basis. It grounds us, but at the same time, it also takes us back to a simpler time when all we had to worry about was making sure the dishes were clean. It's a stress reliever and a break from the hectic pace of pumping out plates of food every night. Being up to your elbows in hot water and suds allows you to re-group your thoughts and relax your mind.

"They still make the boss do the dishes?" I heard a female voice with a British accent ask from behind. I turned around and saw Alex and smiled. Although I had told her she looked beautiful out in the dining room, it wasn't until now, seeing her in the dark red plunge neck halter dress that my breath caught in my throat and I saw just how sexy she was.

I swallowed hard and found my voice. "Since I stopped smoking, I need to find another way to relieve the stress without killing anyone," I told her. "Where's your date?"

"He left," she answered. "I met him here. I didn't want him to know where I live." She came and stood beside me and I rinsed off the last pan in the sink.

"He was left dumbfounded after you, um, put him in his place," she said, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "He thought he was being very clever letting on that he knew you, implying that you were close friends."

"He's a douchebag," I told her before I could stop myself. I decided to change the topic before my mouth ran off on me. "So what are your plans for the rest of the night?"

"Go home and curl up with a book and glass of wine?" she answered with a shrug of her shoulders.

I looked up at the clock and checked out the cleaning progress of the crew behind me. "Lenny and I were going to go out for a drink after we're finished," I told her. "Wanna join us?"

She seemed to pause for a moment and then said, "I don't want to intrude."

"No intrusion," I told her, wiping my hands on the towel, and she smiled and nodded. I led her out to the bar and asked Lenny to get her a drink while she waited for us and went back inside to clean up. Surprisingly, I had a slight spring in my step and we finished cleaning up ten minutes faster than usual.

We were standing at the bar, Lenny and Alex on one side of the corner and me on the other, at our favorite after hours watering hole, which was just down the street from the restaurant. Lenny and Alex were talking animatedly, with Alex asking Lenny about my habits and peculiarities when it came to picking up women, and Lenny was more than happy to share every bit of information and detail that she could think of.

"So do you ever strike out?" Alex asked, after Lenny had informed her that I had probably slept with half the women in the bar tonight.

"Don't ask, don't tell," I answered and she shook her head.

"You can't hide behind that one with me," she informed me.

"It's a game of probability," I told her, without answering her question and looking around at the crowd of women in the place. "You don't go for the one who's here with her girlfriend. You go for the one who's been eyeballing you and whispering to her friends, or looks at you and then looks away as soon as you catch her eye. Then you're guaranteed a home run." At that moment, I locked eyes with a curly haired blond and she smiled. I had been catching her eye periodically in the hour or so that we had been here. I smiled back and held her eyes for a couple of seconds. I turned back to my companions and Alex had followed gaze. She looked back at me questioningly.

"I give her five minutes," Lenny told Alex and they ordered another round of drinks. After about a few minutes, I felt someone come up beside me and I turned to look. Sure enough, it was the blond. She flagged down the bartender and ordered a drink. He produced our beers and some fruity alcoholic drink for the woman standing beside me.

"It's on me," I told the bartender who nodded.

"Thank you," the blond said and smiled, revealing perfectly straight white teeth.

"You're welcome," I told her and introduced myself. "I'm Riley."

She smiled again. "I know. My friends told me who you are. I'm Chelsea."

"What else did your friends tell you about me, Chelsea?" I teased her.

"They told me that given the way you'd been looking at me, that if I came over here, you'd probably introduce yourself," she answered.

"Smart friends," I complimented her.

"They warned me that you were trouble though," she added, smiling teasingly and took a drink from her glass.

"I have been called that on occasion," I conceded. "Did they also warn you not to kiss me?"

"No, why?" she asked, intrigued and leaned in closer to me.

"Because once you kiss me, you will fall for me," I told her. "And I don't do relationships."

"You are trouble aren't you?" she asked, smiling. I nodded, smiling.

"Good thing I like trouble," she said and reached out, grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me in for a kiss. Her lips parted and I reciprocated, her tongue invading my mouth. I tasted the vodka on her tongue and lips from her drink. Despite the painkillers I had taken and the fact that the swelling in my nose had practically disappeared, a pain shot through me when she turned her head slightly and her nose brushed against mine. I pulled away as tactfully as I could without betraying my discomfort.

"Do you wanna get outta here?" she asked breathlessly.

As cute and a sure thing that she was, I remembered that I wasn't alone. "I can't," I answered. "I'm here with some friends. But give me your number and I'll give you a call." I handed her my iPhone and she inputted her name and number and handed it back to me. She left the bar and went back to her group of friends. I turned back to Lenny and Alex. Lenny had a shit eating grin on her face while Alex just looked at me in either confusion or awe, I wasn't sure which.

"I can't believe that line worked," she finally said. "Once you kiss me, you will fall for me?"

"It's all in how you deliver it," I explained.

"Why didn't you leave with her?" she asked and I couldn't read her expression, whether she was being sarcastic or just curious.

"Present company is more interesting," I told her with a wink.

When we finished our round of drinks, we decided to call it a night and walked back to the restaurant where the cars were. As we approached the cars, Lenny's phone rang. "Shit," she muttered before she answered it. "Hey, baby."

"Don't 'hey baby' me," I could hear Gabriella's angry voice coming through the phone. "Where the hell are you?"

"I went out for a drink with Riley," Lenny explained meekly. "I'm sorry, I know, I'm on my way. Actually, I have to drop Riley off at home first, but then I'm coming straight over. Come on, baby, I'm sorry."

"Go, I'll grab a cab," I told Lenny. I knew that Gabriella didn't get to see Lenny as much as she wanted to given the hours that we work, and when the girl is pissed off, I duck for cover as quick as I can.

Lenny looked at me as if to ask "are you sure?" and I nodded and Lenny tried to soothe a steaming Gabriella with promises of going to see her right away.

"Stop talking rubbish, I'll give you a lift," Alex scolded us after Lenny hung up the phone.

I opened my mouth to repeat that I would hail a cab, but the look that Alex gave me quelled any further protest. I closed my mouth and nodded. "Thank you."

Lenny hauled off to what I would hope to be awesome make up sex and I walked with Alex over to the Range Rover. I heard a growl and I knew it wasn't my own stomach. I looked at her and she gave an embarrassed smile. "Excuse me," she giggled. I reached out and took her hand. "C'mon," I said and led her to the back door of the restaurant.

Alex

After turning off the alarm system and turning on the lights in the kitchen, she went into the office and grabbed a high stool for me and set it down at the counter space beside the grill. I settled down onto the stool with a bottle of sparkling water that she had left me with and waited as she disappeared into what I can only guess to be the refrigerator. She came out with eggs, a green apple, a carton of milk, butter and some Brie cheese. She placed the ingredients onto the counter and disappeared again and returned with some sugar, a bottle of vanilla extract, ground cinnamon and a French Baguette.

She turned on some music and wrapped an apron around her hips and pulled out a black case from a cupboard under the counter. She opened it up and revealed her tools of the trade. She pulled out one of her knives and quickly and expertly sharpened it with a sharpening steel. I thought she couldn't look sexier. After she cleaned off the knife, she put the eggs, sugar, milk, cinnamon and vanilla extract into a bowl and handed me a whisk. I whisked the ingredients in the bowl together while she sliced the baguette diagonally into two thick and long slices and then cut slits into each slice. Next, she efficiently sliced up the apple and the Brie and then stuffed both ingredients into the slits in the bread slices. The stuffed bread was dipped into the egg mixture and then placed in a hot pan with some butter. The aroma of the bread cooking was delicious and my stomach commented positively with a growl. When the toasts were perfectly golden on both sides, she plated them and then took out a container and poured some kind of syrup into the pan, presumably to heat it up. Then she poured the syrup over top of the two slices of stuffed french toast and slid the plate over to me with a knife a fork.

The first bite held a combination of creamy cheese mixed with the tartness of the apples and the sweetness of the syrup confused my taste buds, but then soon enough, they sang out loud which resulted in a moan that escaped my throat and lips. I closed my eyes and savored every flavor that assaulted my mouth. When I opened my eyes, she was looking at me with a hesitant smile on her face, as if she was trying to gauge whether or not I'd like her cooking.

"You like?" she asked after I swallowed the first bite.

"Absolutely," I said, regaining my senses. I cut off a bite and offered it to her. She leaned in and accepted the offered morsel. "Not bad if I do say so myself," she said after swallowing the bite.

"I hope you're not seeing him again," she said right before I fed her another bite of food.

"Who?" I asked, not quite following her change in subject matter.

"The douchebag tonight," she clarified and put the dirty dishes in the sink.

"No, I doubt won't be seeing him again after tonight," she answered chuckling. "At least not socially."

"Good," she said, spraying down the mixing bowl and pan in the sink. Was she jealous?

"Blimey. Riley Starks Carson, are you jealous?" I teased her.

A brief flash of realization of what I had said washed over her face and she promptly shook her head. "No, of course not. It's just that I think you can do so much better than a guy like that."

She started to wash the bowl and pan so I got up and brought the plate with me. I fed her another mouthful of food.

"Who can I do then?" I asked before I could stop myself. "That would be better than him?"

She gave me a quick glance, probably trying to judge whether or not I was joking or flirting or serious and to be quite honest, a part of me was hoping she'd realize I was actually flirting with her. But bullocks, why was I flirting with her. It had to have been the fact that she had cooked for me and seeing her in her element that made me feel more comfortable with her. Was I curious? Of course I was curious about this mysterious girl who had women and girls throwing themselves at her every where she turned. But just how curious was I?

"From what I can tell, you need an intellectual equal," she said, having set the dishes aside to dry and was now wiping down her knife. She went back over to the prep counter and leaned back against it, contemplating her words as she ran a towel along the blade of her knife to dry it. I went over and stood beside her, offering her the last piece of french toast off the plate. "You have it," she told me. "Your stomach needed it more than mine."

She continued to wipe down her knife. "You need someone who's honest; someone who'll let you get a word in edgewise; someone who gets who you are and you're comfortable with, but at the same time, can take you out of your comfort zone without making you uneasy."

"Sounds like you have someone very specific in mind," I dared her to continue, looking at her sideways.

She placed the knife down onto the counter and turned towards me. Slowly she came closer and I held my breath, feeling my heart threatening to erupt from my chest. Finally she was inches away and I felt her soft, warm breath on my cheek. I locked my eyes onto her naturally red, curved, pouty lips which were slightly parted. She bit down on her bottom lip and I couldn't help but mimic the action. I was about to close my eyes when she started to move away and I realized what she was doing. She picked up her knife case from the counter behind me and brought it over to her side and slid her knife into it's compartment. "I think you'll know who's right for you when you meet them or when you're ready for them," she answered cryptically.

"And what about you, Riley Carson?" I asked and paused, letting the double meaning hang in the air.

"What about me?" she asked coolly, putting her knife case away. Either she wasn't taking the bait, or she was oblivious to what I was implying. She looked at me with an arched eyebrow. "Blimey. Alexandra Martin, are you flirting with me?" she mocked, complete with a British accent and all.

I couldn't help but laugh and soon enough, we were both laughing. She left the dirty plate and cutlery in the sink, citing that her dishwasher needed something to do the next day and closed up the restaurant again. She directed me to her house in Brentwood, which was a modest home, compared to the mansion that her parents lived in, but still quite a large home for a single person. I pulled into the driveway and parked the vehicle.

"Do you want to come in?" she asked and just as I opened my mouth to answer, I had to stifle a yawn.

She smiled.

"Maybe another time," I reluctantly declined. "I should get home and get to bed."

She nodded. She reached up to the GPS unit on the dashboard and with a few finger taps, she had my path home routed for me. "Thanks for the ride. Goodnight."

"Good night, and you're welcome," I told her and she slipped out of the Range Rover. I watched her enter her house and she waved before closing the door behind her. I pulled out of the drive way and started to follow the instructions to Grace's house. As I pulled up to a traffic light, the street lights lit up the passenger seat and I realized that Riley had forgotten her jacket. I turned the vehicle around and headed back to her house. As I pulled up on the other side of the street in front of her house, I saw her car running in the drive way. She came out of her house, talking on her mobile, smiling and shaking her head.

My heart and stomach dropped. Of course, she was heading out to meet up with that woman she had met at the bar. Why did she even bother to invite me in if she was going to try to 'hook up' with that woman? I mentally shook my head. Why was I feeling betrayed or disappointed? It wasn't like there was anything between us. Besides, I wasn't gay, so why was I feeling this jealousy that was bubbling inside me. As I pulled away from her house, I felt angry at myself. I had let myself get wrapped up in her flirtations and charm tonight, especially when we had gone back to the restaurant. I thought I had felt some kind of spark between us and as foolish as it sounded, she made me feel quite special, cooking for me and only me. 'That's who Riley is,' I told myself. 'She's a charmer. That's why women fall for her. She makes everyone feel special but as soon as she's done with one, she moves onto the next. Get a grip, Alexandra. You're not even gay, so why are you fretting about this?'I resolved to put Riley Carson out of my mind and focus the next few days writing up my article on what I had observed.

Riley

I was slightly disappointed that Alex was too tired to stay for a while but I saw how tired she was. I was pretty tired myself as we had had a busy night at the restaurant, so I was ready to go up to my room and go straight to sleep, but as soon as I closed the door behind me, my iPhone rang. It was my dad.

"Hey, Dad," I answered. "Why are you calling me this late? Aren't you seniors usually in bed at like ten?"

"Funny," my dad answer without humor in his voice. "Listen, you still have a key to our house?"

"Yeah, I should," I answered and went into the kitchen and pulled out the drawer in which I kept spare keys to my parents house, Sam's house and to the restaurant. "Why?"

"We've seemed to have locked ourselves out of the house," he answered, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Really?" I asked. "Where's Mom?"

"She's here," he answered and after a couple of seconds, my Mom came on the line.

"What happened?" I asked, knowing full well that my father probably had something to do with their situation.

"Your father, in his usual frantic self sometimes, fat fingered the lock code to the door, not once but three times, and now it's locked us out. We can't get in without a key," she explained.

"You didn't bring a key with you?" I asked, rummaging through the key drawer and finally found their house key.

"No," she answered with a loud sigh. "The first and only time we decided to go keyless, Rock Star here locks us out.'

"What about the garage? Can't you get into the house through the garage?" I interrogated them. I loved my parents but being beckoned in the middle of the night was a bit much.

"Someone forgot to change the battery in the garage door remote, so no, we can't get in there either," my Mom answered, having placed the emphasis on the 'Someone' part of the sentence. I could see her rolling her eyes at my dad. I was going to ask them about using the control panel to open the garage with their house code, but thought better of it. I'm sure if there was a way into the house without having to call me, my Mom would've figured it out.

"Okay, I found the key. I'm coming over," I told them and hung up the phone. I headed into the garage and backed the car out of the garage. A nagging feeling made me check my pockets and sure enough, I had forgotten their keys on the stairs when I went to put my shoes on. I ran back into the house to grab the keys and my phone rang again.

"Hi Auntie Riley," Claire's quiet voice came through when I answered the call.

"Claire? What are you still doing up? You're supposed to be sleeping," I asked, instantly concerned.

"I was sleeping," she answered. "But then I woke up. Jojo snores. He waked me up."

Jojo was their dog who often snuck into Claire's room to sleep beside her bed. "Where are your mom and dad?" I asked.

"They're sleeping," she answered conspiratorially. "I miss you, Auntie Riley."

The kid knew exactly how to pull at my heart strings and bring a smile to my face. "I miss you too, Claire-bear," I told her. "Now go back to sleep and think of ice cream cones and jelly beans."

"OK," her little voice complied. "Good night, Auntie."

"Good night, Claire-bear," I told her. "I love you."

"I love you too," she said and I could hear her yawn. After I hung up, I backed out of the driveway and headed towards my parents house. When I pulled into the driveway, their car was parked in front of the garage. They got out and I handed them their house key and they were finally able to unlock the front door. Once inside my Mom handed me the garage remote and pointed me to a drawer in the kitchen for new batteries. "You're kidding me, right?" I asked her.

"You've seen what happens when I left your father to do it," she pointed out and I conceded and took the remote. She went upstairs to change and I rummaged through the drawer for some batteries but couldn't find any. "There's no batteries in here," I yelled up to her from the bottom of the stairs.

"Go check your dad's office!" she shouted back.

I headed over to my dad's home office, or his "domain" as he liked to call it, which was full of memorabilia from the various decades his band had been around. The shelves were full of figurines, toys and magazines. He had a few guitars in one corner of the room and of course, the walls were adorned with posters of the band and gold and platinum records. My dad was sitting at his desk, checking his emails and voicemails.

I held up the remote. "Batteries," I told him and he pulled open a desk drawer and handed me a pack of batteries. I sat down on the couch and went about fixing their remote.

"How was business today?" he asked.

"It was good. Full house, both seatings," I answered and he nodded approvingly.

"Have you thought about expanding?" he asked and I could tell he was getting into his businessman mode.

"I'm just trying to keep my head above water right now, Dad," I told him. After three years, the restaurant was starting to turn a profit and I was finally relaxing a bit. I wasn't quite ready to go through another start up just yet.

"You gotta think ahead," he advised me. "I mean look at Ramsay, Flay, Legasse, those guys didn't stop at one. They've built a brand and hell, Ramsay's built a frickin' empire."

"I know," I answered, having finished replacing the batteries I tossed the battery box back to him. I slouched back into the couch. "I'm just enjoying the fruits of my labor right now. And maybe in a year or so when I can hand things over to Jason and Lenny can find someone she trusts to manage Claire, we'll start thinking about a new place. But I need to figure out what kinda cuisine first."

"You're smart, like your old man," he complimented me and himself. "You'll come up with something. Thanks for coming by tonight, kiddo. I hope we weren't interrupting anything." He gave me a wink. My father knew me well.

"Nah, Alex had just dropped me off at home and I was actually gonna call it a night and turn in," I answered.

He arched an eyebrow at me, one of his trademark expressions. "You were out with Alex?"

"Yeah, she was on a date with some dick head," I explained. "He was trying to impress her, passing off that he knew me."

"Did he know you? Do you know him?"

"I met him long ago when I was travelling," I answered. "Didn't like him then, still don't like him now."

"Don't like who?" my mom asked, coming into the office. She had changed into her silk pajamas and she went over and sat down on my dad's lap.

"Some guy Alex was on a date with," my dad took the liberty of answering.

"Alex? Grace's Alex?" my mom questioned. "She's dating already?"

"I think she was bored, and he's a fellow writer at the L.A. Times so I think she was just humoring him," I replied. "I don't think he's got the balls to see her again now that he knows she's much more connected to our family than he'll ever dream of being."

"So how did she end up driving you home?" my dad asked, a curious look on his face, which led to my mom giving me a questioning look.

"Her date was at my restaurant," I answered. "So she stayed afterwards and we hung out for awhile, went for a couple of drinks."

"She's pretty," my dad observed, which earned him a slap on the shoulder from my mom. "What? I'm just stating a fact. She's pretty....but not as pretty as you, my beauty queen." I rolled my eyes when my mom gave him a kiss.

"Please, not in front of the child," I joked, covering my eyes.

"I'm going to bed," my mom said and stood up. She gave my dad another kiss and then came over and gave me a kiss. "Thanks for coming to the rescue, Rye. And be careful with Alex. Godmother or not, Aunt Grace will kill you if you mess with Alex."

I shook my head, knowing better than to protest and she left.

"She's right you know, Grace will kill you," my dad reiterated.

"You of all people know that when you tell me to not do something, what do I do?" I asked.

"What we told you not to do," he answered, knowing me well. "I also know that if you get involved with Alex to spite Grace, you'll only do exactly what Grace expects and Alex is the one who gets hurt in the end."

"Alex isn't even gay," I pointed out, ignoring the fact that what he said was right. "Dad, can I ask you something?"

He sat back in his chair and shut off his computer monitor. "Shoot."

"You love mom, right?"

"You're not going to ask me to marry her are you?"

"No. I've accepted that you'll always live in sin. Besides, if you got married, then I'd be expected to get into relationships."

"Yes, I love your mother, very much so."

"When did you know that she was the one, you know. that you didn't want to marry?"

"I knew she was the one I didn't want to marry when she refused to sleep with me," he answered laughing at my question. "You know the lifestyle, girls and women everywhere throwing themselves at you so you're getting a little sumpin' sumpin' left right and center. One day, I'm at a charity fundraiser and I get introduced to this beautiful super model and she wouldn't give me the time of day. At first, I thought she was just being prissy and stuck up but then I found out that she just didn't want to be another groupie."

"And in all honesty, you really did just want to mount her," I commented and he paused and nodded.

"So after much persistence, I finally got her to agree to go out with me," he continued. "I took her out to a nice dinner at a jazz club, we enjoyed the music and wine and at the end of the night, she not only didn't invite me in, she didn't even let me kiss her."

"She was playing hard to get?" I asked.

"She was being herself - a good girl who wasn't just going to let some musician treat her like a..." he trailed off.

"Ho," I finished for him.

"So at that point, for me, it became all about the chase and trying to get the girl," he continued. "We went on three dates before she let me kiss her, and then it was five months before we...," he trailed off again. I held up my hand, indicating that I didn't need for him to spell it out for me.

"But by the time I got to make love to your mother," he said and I closed my eyes and tried to block out the image, "I had gotten to know her, and I had fallen in love with who she was. I realized that she was the one I wanted to share my life with and raise a family with."

"Have you ever cheated on her?" I asked, not really sure why because after I asked the question, I didn't think I wanted to know the answer.

"Have you ever cheated on a girl?" he turned the tables on me without answering.

"I'm not committed to anyone, so no," I answered. "You and Uncle Sal taught me that, remember? You can't cheat if you're not committed."

"I taught you to be careful about marriage," he corrected me. "I'm committed to your mother in my own way. I don't need a marriage certificate or some priest pronouncing my commitment to make it any more real than it is. Tell me something, Rye, is your reason for not having a girlfriend because you don't think you can stay faithful?"

"There isn't a day that goes by that I don't run into a girl I'd like to..." I replied, "get to know better."

"You're young, you're beautiful," he told me. "Live life to the fullest. Just remember to keep your eyes open so that you don't miss it when someone special comes along."

"What if I don't have it in me?" I asked him. "What if I don't have that gene that makes people want to be monogamous?"

"Well, only you can know that," he answered. "Sometimes we live our lives the way others perceive it, but whatever you do, you stay true to who you are inside. Be honest to yourself. Capisce?"

"Capisce," I answered and went over to give him a hug. "Goodnight, Dad."

"Goodnight, kiddo," he said and got up and walked me out to my car.

"You know, the thrill of the chase is an addictive feeling, especially when it comes to forbidden fruit," he said as I got into my car. "But don't get too wrapped up in the chase that you miss the 'Eureka!' moment."

I took my father's advice and drove home. Crawling into bed, the image of a brunette with bright blue eyes and deep dimples wearing a dark red dress was the last thing on my mind before I drifted off to sleep.

It felt like I had just fallen asleep when I my phone rang and jarred me out of my slumber. I looked at the clock. It was past noon.

"Hello?" I answered the phone.

"Hey, Rye," Lenny's voice came through the line.

"I'm not coming home this morning so don't wait for me," she told me and she sounded like she was grinning from ear to ear.

"I take it Gabriella forgave you?" I asked, sitting up in my bed.

"Oh yes," Lenny answered. "Many times over."

"Congratulations, my friend," I told her. "At least one of us got laid last night."

"Many times over," she repeated.

"Yes, I got that the first time," I told her, rolling my eyes.

"What happened with Alex? She didn't give into your charms?" she teased me.

"We went back to the restaurant after you left and I made her something to eat," I recounted. "Then she drove me home."

"And?" my best friend prodded.

"No and," I told her. "She went home. She was tired so I didn't want to keep her."

"Riiiight," she dragged out. "And since when did you get so chivalrous?"

"Since I've been threatened with physical harm if I touch a hair on her head," I answered.

"Like you've ever heeded threats in the past," Lenny commented.

"Is there a point to this discussion?" I asked irritably.

"Someone's on the rag," Lenny half joked. "Either that or you're in dire need of a woman."

'Perhaps a brunette with dimples and an accent that can strip me naked?' a voice in my head called out. I clamped down on the thought. "Goodbye, Lenny. I'll see you at the restaurant."

I hung up the phone and the alarm on my iPhone rang out. I reached over and grabbed it and turned off the alarm. I started to check Facebook and Twitter for updates. Twitter updated that I had a new follower. Someone named Chelsea. Fuck! Why were lesbians so stalker-like that way? I went into my contacts and looked up her entry and deleted it. There was no way in hell I was going to call her up now. Then I saw Alex's new iPhone number and wondered if I should give her a call. To thank her for the ride home of course. I pressed the call button before I could change my mind and waited while it rang. And rang. and rang. Her voicemail greeting came on.

"Hey, Alex, it's Riley," I said. "I just wanted to thank you for the ride home last night and I hope I didn't keep you out too late. Anyway, um, yeah, thanks." I ended the call and dropped my head into my hands when I realized how idiotic I had sounded. What the hell was wrong with me? I shook it off and jumped into the shower. After the shower, I checked my phone. Nothing. I got dressed and headed out to the cafe down the street for a coffee and a bite to eat and then I headed to the restaurant.

When I walked into the kitchen, the delivery guy had just finished unloading our order from his truck and the boxes were stacked near the fridge. Jason was looking over the order form and when the guy finished stacking the last box onto the delivery pile, Jason handed him the order and said, "Now take it all back."

"What?" the delivery guy asked him.

"You're two fucking hours late," Jason told him, his hands on his hips. Jason may be the gayest guy I know, but when it came to being assertive, he had a six-foot three, two hundred pound frame and a gleaming shaved head that could intimidate even the most belligerent of delivery guys, and trust me, there were lots of them we've had to handle.

"I needed this shit at noon," Jason continued. "We pay you to be here on time, so noon means noon, twelve o'clock. Not twelve fifteen, not twelve thirty, and most definitely not fucking two o'clock. So haul this shit back to your boss and tell him to call me if he's got something to say to me!"

The guy swore under his breath but then packed up the boxes onto his dolly and took them back to his truck. After about twenty minutes, he was gone. "So do we have what we need?" I asked Jason after I had changed.

"Yeah," he answered. "I called another guy from West Hollywood and he brought me everything we need."

"Good," I told him, pulling out my knife case to help with the prep. "I was sick of this guy anyway."

"Jorge thinks you're a piss poor dishwasher," Jason told me as worked side by side cleaning and cutting up vegetables. "Said you missed a plate and cutlery last night."

"I no said piss poor, chef," Jorge shouted from the back as he flattened out some boxes for the recycling bin. "I said you missed something."

Jason smirked. "I'm just fucking with you, Jorje."

"Pendejo!" Jorje shouted back.

"Are you offering me yours, Jorge?" Jason shouted back at him and our dishwasher simply shook his head and took the flattened cardboard out the back door.

"I swear, one day Jorge's just gonna bend over and get it over with," I said, shaking my head. "I came back here last night. A friend was hungry."

"Tell me you scrubbed down the counter after you had sex," Jason said without looking up from his work.

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't," I teased. "Maybe we did it over in your area."

"Christ," he exhaled. Then he stopped working and looked at me. "Seriously, did you scrub it down?"

I laughed and shook my head. "I'm just fucking with you. Alex was hungry so I made her a late night snack."

"Was she the one in the red dress last night?" he asked, resuming his peeling and slicing.

"Yeah," I answered and images of how the dress clung to her figure in all the right places flashed through my mind.

"She's pretty," he commented and I had to do a double-take when no further snarky comment was forthcoming.

"Yeah, she is," I agreed and we continued working in a companionable silence for awhile. As we worked, I thought about the menus we had put together over the years since we first opened and realized that we didn't have much to offer in terms of vegetarian dishes. Granted that French cuisine focused more on rich flavors which were often derived from animal products and fats, it wasn't like vegetarianism was foreign to me. It's likely that half the lesbians in the world were vegetarian, if not vegan, and our restaurant and staff were no strangers to the LGBT community.

"We should try having a vegetarian menu," I said, still lost in my thoughts.

Jason stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me. "Are you asking for a kick in the crotch?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I love meat as much as you do -- okay, well maybe not in the same way, but come on, there are lots of vegetarians out there and by not having much of a choice for them, we're limiting our clientele to a certain group. Or rather excluding a certain group of consumers."

He looked at me speculatively and then a smile crept onto his face. "You like her don't you?"

"What?" I asked, not following his question.

"The red dress. Alex," he clarified. "You like her."

"I...don't...I-I mean...," I stuttered and before I could recover, he winked and whispered, "It's okay, your secret's safe with me."

Alex

As I was sipping my coffee at the breakfast table, Grace came in, still in her robe and sat down across from me. She held out the paper she had brought into the kitchen and proceeded to read aloud from it. "I have, in the past, had the misfortune of having had a lying, cheating and manipulative ex-boyfriend. Although it took some time and a physical move to a new continent, I was able to see that although I was not completely blameless for the failed relationship, he was the liar and cheater. Armed with the knowledge of things to look for in potential philanderers who crossed my path, I was recently introduced to a new breed of the womanizer persona. This time, in the form of a woman. Do not kid yourself, womanizers do come in both genders and although their techniques may be different, their ultimate goals are the same - to bed as many women as they can."

She looked up from the newspaper and looked at me and then continued reading. "This new predator, at first glance, is much more charming and comes across as honest and the way she captures her prey is by using blatant honesty. She makes no pretenses as to what she wants from her targets and draws on that fantasy that many women have - that they can change the player to be a committed lover. So despite all logic and common sense, they find themselves attracted to her and succumb to her attractiveness and seductive words. However, the situation begs the question - does her upfront disclaimers and truths that she's not looking for anything other than a night of passion absolve her from the trail of broken hearts that she inevitably leaves in her path? Or do we put the blame on the women who fall for her, for letting themselves be fooled, or who didn't heed her words?"

Grace put the newspaper down and looked at me. "Come on, then, out with it."

"Out with what?" I asked innocently.

"What's happened then?" Grace continued to prod. "I can only presume that the article is about our beloved Riley Carson."

"Nothing's happened," I answered. "I've had a chance to see her working her charm and am simply making an observation."

"Do you think she'll take kindly to this?" my sister inquired. "Or are we going to see a blood bath tonight at dinner?"

"I've merely called it like I saw it," I answered. "I haven't embellished anything nor have I called her anything that she's not already professed to being."

Grace nodded slowly and stood up. "I'm glad you've, for lack of a better term, seen the light. I love Riley, but I love you more and the last thing I want is for you to fall victim to her wily ways." With that, she went upstairs to change for work and left me to contemplate whether or not Riley would have seen my article and what she thought of it. Was reading the truth going to be too much for her to handle?

We entered the restaurant and were greeted by Sarah and Rod who were already there. I had learned that it had become tradition since the restaurant opened, that for Thanksgiving, Riley would shut down the establishment for the entire holiday and she and her crew would cook up a traditional Thanksgiving dinner for their families and serve it up buffet style for what I guessed to be well over sixty people. I saw Sam and Claire come out from the kitchen.

"Hi, Lenny," I greeted a familiar face. "Is she back there?"

"Yeah, but I wouldn't go back there," Lenny answered hesitantly. "She's, um, not happy."

I should have listened to the sinking feeling in my gut but I went ahead and pushed open the door to the kitchen anyway. From what I could tell, the food was near ready and were being loaded into chafing dishes to be brought out to the front. I caught her eye as she was moving the turkey meat into one of the dishes.

"Hi," I said and walked closer to her and I saw her spine stiffen minutely.

"What can I do for you?" she asked coolly.

"I just wanted to say hi and as foolish as it sounds, wondered if you needed any help," I answered.

"I do this for a living, Alex," she answered tersely. "I'm pretty sure I can handle feeding sixty plus people Thanksgiving dinner."

"Something the matter?" I asked, knowing the answer by now.

She put down the tongs she had been using and walked over to the kitchen doors to the dining room. She opened a door and stepped through it and I followed her into a quiet corner. She turned to face me, her hands on her hips. "You announce to all of Los Angeles that I'm a predatory womanizer who'll say and do anything to get into a woman's pants and you ask if something's the matter?" she practically spat out.

"I was simply making an observation," I tried to defend my article. "Everywhere I run into you, you're flirting with a girl, or they're falling over their feet flirting with you. You've made no pretenses, from when we first spent time, that you're anything but someone looking for a good time and nothing more. Isn't that who you are?"

She opened her mouth to answer but then paused and I saw something shift in her posture, as if the stiffness in her spine from earlier had morphed into a slight slump of the shoulders. She let out a long breath. She bit down on her bottom lip and slightly nodded her head. "You're right. You're absolutely right," she finally said. "That's who I am. I just didn't realize I was being researched for your article. I thought we were just friends hanging out. And for the record, I've only lied to you once, and that was when you asked if I was jealous."

I opened my mouth to respond, but she cut me off, "I have to get back. Have some wine. Enjoy yourself." And with that, she spun on her heels and disappeared back into the kitchen. I watched her disappear all the while still trying to remember when I had asked if she was jealous. And then the memory hit me. Bloody hell, it was in that very kitchen when we were talking about my date that night. I had teased her if she was jealous about my date and she said she wasn't. So she was lying then? Blimey.

The chafing dishes were brought out to a long table at the front and soon enough, everyone was seated with plates full of food. We ate, we drank and talked. Although we were seated at the same table, I noticed that she avoided my eyes throughout the entire dinner. When dinner was winding down, they brought out a TV from what I could only guess was the office or a storage room and soon enough, a football game was turned on. I noticed that Riley and her staff had quietly dispersed and cleared away the dishes from the dining room, leaving the guests to enjoy the game and their drinks.

I went to the bar for another glass of wine. Rod was there waiting for a club soda.

"That's quite a debut article, Alex," Rod said to me after I told the bartender what I wanted.

"You're not going to tell me I was too harsh are you?" I asked him.

"No, I think you got it spot on," he said, to my surprise. "Riley's created a certain lifestyle and image for herself and I'm sure my lifestyle and past probably has had somewhat of an influence on her choices."

"Rod, I wasn't judging her choices," I told him. "I was making an observation." I felt like I had been saying that too many times already.

He nodded. "I'm gonna tell you about an observation I made about ten, eleven, years ago," he began. "Riley was away in New York at school, and she came home during spring break and brought a friend with her. I say friend because Riley didn't refer to her as a girlfriend, but I knew there was more to it than just friendship. Anyway, for the week she was home, this friend of hers brought a demo tape and was quite persistent at trying to get me to listen to it, if you know what I mean."

I nodded my understanding.

"For the record, as a producer, I did listen to the demo, but I kept the girl at an arm's length. At any rate, that was the last time a girlfriend was ever in the picture for Riley," Rod concluded.

As I took in what Rod told me, my analytical brain took over and started to spin its wheels. I returned to the table with Rod, but my mind was occupied by all the thoughts flooding my brain to take part in the discussions at the table. When the game ended, we all got up to leave. We paid thanks to the chefs and cooks, and still Riley barely looked at me. I walked out with Rod, Sarah, Grace and the girls to the parking lot.

"Hey, Rock Stud, do you have the house keys?" Sarah asked Rod as they got to their car. He fished out a key ring from his pocket triumphantly.

"I thought you guys were going keyless nowadays," Grace asked.

"Yeah, last time we did that, we got locked out of the house," Sarah replied.

"You're kidding," Grace half asked.

"No, I kid you not," Sarah answered. "My darling boyfriend here got the code wrong, not once, but three times and the system shuts down for a certain amount of time," she scoffed.

"In my defense, you were the one who picked the code," Rod retorted.

"And I told you what it was," Sarah countered. "But you and your nimble fingers. The irony of it all is that Mr. Rock Star who plays a guitar for a living, fat fingered the numbers."

"Well, I've set up a code for myself now so I won't forget it," Rod threw in before opening the car door for her.

"When did this happen?" Grace asked Sarah.

"Last Friday night in the wee hours of the morning," she answered. "It would've been fine, but someone didn't change the batteries in the garage remote either so we couldn't even get into the garage. Thank god I raised my child right and she came over with the keys."

"Hey, are you saying Riley's not mine?" Rod joked.

"No, I just happened to find a guy who looked exactly like you to father her," Sarah said, rolling her eyes. "Good night, ladies."

We hugged them goodbye and Grace unlocked the Range Rover. Maddi and Kris climbed into the back seat and Grace turned to look at me. "Aren't you coming?"

"I need to talk to Riley," I told her. "Go ahead, I'll hire a taxi home."

"You can call her tomorrow," Grace told me.

"No, I need to talk to her now," I insisted. "I'll see you at home." I turned before she could stop me and headed back into the restaurant. The last of the guests and staff were leaving as I got to the door and I asked Lenny to let me talk to Riley. She quietly acquiesced and let me into the kitchen.

"Hey, Rye! Gabriella and I are heading back to her place for the night. You okay to lock up?" Lenny called out to Riley who was once again at the sink. Riley turned and nodded to Lenny. She finally looked at me when Lenny had left us and said, "Sorry, kitchen's closed."

I walked over to her and stood beside her as she dried her hands on a dish towel. "I owe you an apology," I said.

She shook her head. "No, you don't. You were just calling a spade a spade. It's like knowing you have a pimple on your chin but when you actually see it in the mirror, you're horrified by what you see. I know who I am, I know how others see me, but it was still a bit of a shock to see myself described in words in your article."

"You were right to be angry at me," I told her. "I didn't intend on using you for my article and I am sorry that I betrayed our friendship. To be completely honest, I was...I was jealous."

"Jealous?" she asked, puzzled.

"That night I drove you home," I began to explain, realizing that there was nothing left but to be truthful. "You had forgotten your jacket and so I turned around to bring it back to you. When I pulled up to your house, you were leaving and talking on the phone. Naturally I just assumed that you were going to hook up with that girl you had met at the bar."

She seemed to ponder the memory, hanging her head low and then finally raised her eyes to look at me. "I was talking to Claire - she couldn't sleep. And I was heading over to my parents house. They had locked themselves out."

"I know that now," I admitted. "At the time, I just thought and felt like you had just finished flirting with me and just like that, you were onto the next girl. I was jealous and disappointed and that all came out in the article."

She looked at me suspiciously, and when she spoke, her tone was without anger. "I thought you were straight."

"That didn't stop you from flirting with me, did it?" I asked, half teasingly, relieved that the tension between us was lifting. "As much as you deny it, I know you've been flirting with me.”

She shrugged. "Maybe," she simply said with a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. She broke eye contact and took off her chef's jacket. She tossed it into a bin against the wall and leaned back against the counter her hands resting on the its edge. She nodded slowly and looked up into my eyes. There was a softness in her gaze and the smirk was gone, replaced by a hesitant smile. "You're right, I have been flirting with you. And I was jealous when you were out on your date with that douchebag."

I returned her smile and took a step closer to her. "So where do we go from here?"

Riley

Good, God. It took everything in me to not slip an arm around her waist and pull her to me when she smiled and asked me in a low and none to innocent tone, "So where do we go from here?"

My mother's voice rang in my ears. 'Godmother or not, Aunt Grace will kill you if you mess with Alex.'

I took a deep breath and fought all the instincts within me and shook my head. I exhaled and gave her a resigned smile and arched eyebrow. "No where. Because you're straight, and on the rebound, and I'm...not good for you."

"I might have only dated men before, but I do know that ever since I met you, I haven't stopped thinking about you," she told me. "I can't stop thinking about you and frankly, I don't want to stop."

Her voice - her soft, calm and soothing voice and British accent pounded away at my resolve. "I’m sorry, Alex," I told her and gripped the counter's edge in a death grip as I fought back my own wants. "I can't."

"Have I misinterpreted your flirtations and what you just told me about you being jealous?" she inquired and took another step closer to me until we were inches apart.

I swallowed hard and slowly shook my head as I peered into her bright blue eyes. There was something about this woman that made it practically impossible for me to lie.

"Then what's holding you back?" she continued to question me and her eyes flitted from my eyes down to my mouth and back up to my eyes.

I broke eye contact with her and stared down at my feet, taking a deep breath and exhaling, trying to calm the rapid beating of my heart. I hadn't had these feelings in a long time - sweaty palms, heart pounding in my chest, dry throat, difficulty breathing. Her proximity and the smell of her perfume was making me nervous. This feeling was foreign to me. The last time I was this nervous around a girl was when I was fifteen and kissed my first girl, Heather Law, captain of the girl's basketball team.

"Riley," she said softly, a pleading tone in her voice. "Talk to me."

I forced myself to look back into her eyes. Her crystal blue gaze was intense yet soft at the same time if that was even possible. I licked my bottom lip and bit on it momentarily. I took a deep breath. "I made a promise," I admitted to her one of my two reasons for holding back.

"A promise? Wait, I thought you were unattached," she said, a hint of hurt in her tone as she was reaching the wrong conclusion.

"I, ah," I clarified. "I, um, I promised Aunt Grace that I, uh...that I'd keep my distance."

"Well," she said slowly. "You haven't been doing a very good job of that, now have you?"

"Flirting is one thing," I explained and found myself unable to continue.

She looked at me expectantly and when I didn't continue she attempted to finish the sentence for me, "Hooking up is entirely different."

"Actually," I said slowly and corrected her, "Dating is entirely different."

She narrowed her eyes and paused. "Are you taking the mickey?"

"Pardon?" I asked, confused at the British slang term she just used.

"Since when did you use the term 'dating'?" she asked, an amused smile on her lips.

"Since that night you came into my kitchen wearing a red dress," I confessed. Damn this woman. She was my Kryptonite.

"You liked the dress?" she asked, teasingly, her lips curved into a self-satisfied smile.

I nodded, not trusting my own voice. Her gaze grew intense again and I had to do something to move away from her before I did something that we'd both regret. I exhaled quickly. "It's getting kinda hot in here. Lemme give you a ride home." She gave me one last look, smirked and acquiesced.

I led her out of the restaurant and to my car. On the ride to Grace's house, we chatted idly about what we had been up to in the time we had last seen each other. Despite my initial anger over her article, I had to admit that it was indeed a well written piece and complimented her on it. She revealed that the editor liked it as well and liked her idea of a series of articles on relationships. She promised me that I would not be the subject of any articles for the rest of the series.

When we pulled up to the house, she turned to me. "You know, Riley, I'm a grown woman. Grace can't tell me who I can or cannot date."

"Yeah, but she can no doubt rain down a world of hurt on me," I retorted.

"Are you really that scared of her?" Alex asked, laughing. I chuckled, not answering. The truth was, I wasn't scared of Grace. I was scared of Alex. I was scared of how I felt whenever she was near. I was scared of letting someone into my life again.

"Goodnight, Riley," Alex finally said and reached for the door.

"Alex -" I called out before she could open the door. She turned back, an inquiring look on her face.

"Do you wanna have dinner tomorrow?" I blurted out before I lost my nerve.

She smiled and I felt something melt inside of me. "Absolutely," she answered.

I returned her smile. "I'll call you tomorrow," I told her and she smiled one last time before she got out of the car. I watched and made sure she was inside the house before I drove off.

"Shit!" I cursed out loud. Where the hell was I going to take her for dinner? Ideas started to fly through my head - farmer's market? Santa Monica Pier? West Hollywood? Oh, bloody hell, I had forgotten - I needed a vegetarian friendly place. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts list. I found the number and dialed.

"Bobby, it's Riley, how you doin'?" I asked into the phone. Bobby and I attended the CIA together and he moved out here as soon as we graduated while I stayed in New York. A couple of years before I opened Claire de Lune, he and some investors opened up an upscale vegetarian restaurant called "Fresh" in Santa Monica. I had never been, because quite frankly, I had had no desire to try vegetarian food. It wasn't anything against Bobby because I knew he was a great chef. And I loved vegetables. I just liked them to accompany meat.

"Riley, long time no hear," his New York accent greeted me. "How you doin'?"

"Can't complain," I answered. "Got my health, got my work."

"Still getting the girls?" he teased.

"Still getting the girls," I confirmed. "You?"

"Got two of my own now," he answered and I could hear the pride in his voice. "Two year old twin girls,"

"Congratulations," I told him. "Hey, I know this is totally last minute and I'm livin' on a prayer, but I don't suppose you got room for two tomorrow night do you?"

"Hang on a minute," he answered and I heard him calling out to someone for the reservation book. After a few minutes of chattering, he came back on the line. "Sorry Riley, we're completely booked tomorrow. Since when did you eat vegetarian?"

I chuckled at the question, amused that he had remembered how much of a carnivore I was. "Since I just asked out a vegetarian on a date."

"A date? You?" he questioned in amused disbelief.

"Yeah, me, on a date," I answered. "Who'da thought huh?"

"Hang on a minute," he told me again and I heard some more talking off line. Soon enough I heard his voice again. "I'll set you up with a chef's table. We'll make room for you. How does eight o'clock sound? I gotta see who this woman is who's got you on a date."

"Funny," I told him. "Eight sounds great. Thanks, Bobby. I owe you."

I hung up the phone and drove home, a flurry of emotions stirring inside of me. When I got home, I went upstairs and showered before going to bed. I contemplated just texting her about our date but then realized that firstly, that was just not classy enough for someone like Alex, and secondly, I wanted to call her and hear her voice. Fighting the urge to call her right away, I slipped into bed and eventually fell asleep, a smile on my face.

It took a lot of self control for me to not call Alex as soon as I woke up the next morning, but I forced myself to go shower and change first before I made the phone call. I told her about the dinner and she was curious as to where I was taking her but I refused to tell her. I was informed that Aunt Grace had gone shopping for the day and evening with my mother and the girls, and so I was clear to pick her up from her place for our date. We chatted for a bit and after some insistence that she needed to know what to wear, I told her that we were going for dinner at a friend's place in Santa Monica and hopefully take a stroll on the pier as well. After I got off the phone with her, which I really didn't want to because I couldn't get enough of hearing her voice, I pulled my knees up to my chest, sitting on the window seat, I looked out the bay window of my bedroom. The back of the house overlooked a park which was busy with families and kids having picnics and guys playing football on the grass.

I remembered spending days out at the park with my parents and Sam when we were younger whenever my father wasn't on tour. Despite being a rock star, whenever he was home, my father always made a point of spending as much time with us as he could. Our parents wanted us to have as normal of a childhood and life as possible, which meant that they would take turns driving Sam and I to school, participating in the parent advisory council at our schools and even taking on coaching stints for our soccer teams. I think it surprised a lot of other parents at first when they realized that a famous musician and a super model would even care to take an active role in their children's lives, but once they got over their initial shock, they would see that my parents were just that - my parents. Sam and I didn't know them as anything other than Mom and Dad, but to the rest of the world, they were Rod Carson and Sarah Starks - celebrities.

I suppose I had grown up and shaped my adult life a certain way to the world. I had seen how essentially my parents had two different lives - a life in front of the cameras and the life they led at home with Sam and me, and I fell into the same pattern. At first, I was merely followed and got attention for simply having famous parents. Then, in college, I built up my own reputation with the lesbian crowd in New York City which then followed me to L.A. After I opened Claire de Lune and it became a success, I was getting recognized on my own merits and it felt good. But I continued to live my personal life the best way I knew how and it worked for me. I had different lives - the party life and the professional life. Somewhere along the way, I had lost sight of my own personal life and I hadn't realized it until Alex came into the picture. She saw what everyone else saw - the chef by day and player by night who slept with anyone and everyone.

Had it been anyone else, I would have been fine with it, but after I read her article, I realized that I had wanted her to see more than the public Riley. I wanted her to see the private Riley. The problem was, it had been so long since I had seen the private Riley who had fears and insecurities that I wasn't sure I even knew how to show that side of me anymore. All of a sudden, I felt nervous, scared even, about the date.

There was a knock on the door. "Come in," I called out and Lenny poked her head in.

"Hey," she said and then paused, a look of both surprise and curiosity on her face. "I don't think I've ever seen you sit there before." She came into my bedroom and sat down across from me.

"Where's Gabriella?" I asked looking back at the doorway.

"She's gone shopping with her mom and sisters," Lenny answered. "You okay?"

I gave her a "what are you talking about?" look.

"You look... off," she elaborated.

I was going to brush off her concern but then decided against it. Lenny was my best friend. If I couldn't talk to her, then what was the point of having a best friend, right? "I guess you can say I am feeling a bit 'off'."

"You still pissed off at Alex?" she asked. "I thought you might have made up last night."

I shook my head then shrugged. "We did make up," I answered. "I wasn't ever really pissed off at Alex. I was more pissed off at myself."

"Why?"

"Because that image, that vision that she has of me," I replied. "That's not how I wanted to be seen by her." I looked out the window, prepared for the teasing that was about to come my way.

"You really like her don't you?" Lenny asked in a surprisingly soft tone. I looked at her to see if she was smirking or setting me up for a good bashing but I saw nothing but sincerity in her face.

I nodded. "I can't stop thinking about her."''

"I know you said she's straight, but I've seen the way she looks at you," Lenny started. "I think she's gay for you."

"I know," I said, a smile threatening to explode.

"What do you mean you know?" Lenny inquired, her eyes accusing me of holding back information.

"We talked last night after you and Gabriella left and I drove her home," I told her. "I asked her out. On a date."

Lenny's eyebrows hit the ceiling. "You, Riley Carson, asked someone out on a date?"

I nodded in the affirmative. "We're going out tonight."

Lenny shook her head as if she was waking herself up from a dream.

"I'm scared as hell, Lenny," I confessed.

She must've heard the fear in my voice because she stopped her joking and grew serious. "Why?"

"I haven't been on a date in over ten years," I admitted.

"But you have been out with women," Lenny pointed out.

"Yeah, but it's always just been about sex," I answered. "It's different with Alex. I...I actually want to get to know her."

"Well, then I think we should go have lunch, go pick up some nice flowers that you're going to bring to her, and figure out what you're going to wear," Lenny said and stood up. She held out her hand and smirked. "Come on, Casanova."

Part 3
Alex

After my conversation with Riley, the blissful feeling that had resided in me from the moment I answered the phone was slowly being replaced by a feeling of panic. I had never even thought about the idea of being attracted to a woman before much less go on a date with one. I wasn't getting cold feet. I just didn't know what to expect. I picked up the phone again and dialed a long distance number.

"Hello?" the familiar voice answered.

"Jules, it's Alex," I greeted my one and only lesbian friend I had back in London. "How are you?"

"Alex! Oh my God, I'm good. It's about time you called! How are you?" she asked me excitedly.

"I'm alright, thanks," I told her and then bit the bullet. "Listen, Jules, I need your advice."

"Fire away, chickee," she told me.

"I have a date tonight," I began and then took a breath. "With a woman."

"Oi? Say that again. I think my mobile's gone bonkers on me," she said and I knew she had heard me loud and clear.

"I have a date with a woman," I repeated.

"That's what I thought I heard you say," Jules said and then asked, "Are you taking the piss?"

"No, I'm not. Can we move on with this conversation, please?" I asked.

"Alright then," she said, calming down. "Tell me all about her and when you decided you were going to shag a woman."

"I'm not shagging her," I corrected her but then the panic set in again. "At least I don't think so. Not on the first date -- do I? I mean that's why I'm calling. I don't know what to do or expect."

"Relax, Alex," Jules said to me this time. "Right, tell me about her. Who is she? Where'd you meet her? Who asked who out?"

"Her name's Riley," I answered. "She's Grace's goddaughter."

"Wait -" Jules cut me off. "If she's Grace's goddaughter...how old is she?"

"She's thirty," I answered and braced myself for the ribbing.

"Thirty?" Jules repeated. "Well done, Alex."

"Oh, God," I said, covering my eyes with my hand. "Jules, I'm forty. I'm too old for her. Am I too old for her?"

"No, darling," Jules replied. "Of course not. So, her name's Riley, she's Grace's goddaughter and she's thirty."

"She's a chef," I explained. "She has her own restaurant and she's very talented. Anyway, we met shortly after I moved here and we kept running into each other. At any rate, long story short, I found myself attracted to her and we talked about it and she asked me out to dinner. Tonight."

"You talked about your attraction to her?" Jules asked. "Christ, you haven't even been on a date yet and already you're talking and processing like a seasoned lesbian."

"Can we focus please?" I asked, drawing her back to my reason for calling her.

"So she's gay?" Jules asked for confirmation.

"Yes, and she's out," I answered. "And she's...let's just say she's quite experienced when it comes to women."

"And are you ready for that? To be out in public on a date with not just another woman, but an out gay woman?" Jules asked.

"I hadn't given that much thought," I answered honestly. "I've just been excited at the idea that she's attracted to me too. But I have no idea what to expect. Do lesbians snog on the first date? Do they shag? What have I gotten myself into?"

"Relax - it's nothing different than if you're going out on a date with a man. Dress to kill, try to relax and have a good time." Jules advised and I felt a sort of relief wash the panic away. "As for the snogging and shagging, it depends. How well do you know her? Is she the type that would shag on the first date? Do you know that much about her?"

The panic flared up again. "From what I've heard and from her own admission, she doesn't date, she 'hooks up' with women," I answered.

"I see," Jules said and I could hear the hesitation in her voice. "But she did ask you out on a proper date, right?"

"Yeah," I answered. "I just talked to her on the phone and she said she was taking me to a friend's restaurant for dinner and then maybe we'd go for a walk."

"Did it come off like she was looking to just shag you, you know, conquer the new curious girl?" Jules asked.

"I don't think so," I answered. "At first, after I told her that I couldn't stop thinking about her, she didn't want to get involved because she had promised Grace to stay away from me. But then she drove me home and she asked me to dinner."

"I'd be interested in meeting this girl," Jules said mischievously.

"Oi, that's my date you're talking about there," I scolded her and she laughed. "So, what do I wear on my first date with a lesbian?"

The doorbell rang and I ran my hands down my white dress. Despite Riley's admission that the snug red number I had worn on my last date was appealing to her, I had opted for a white dress that wasn't as tight fitting and more comfortable should we end up going for a walk out on the pier. The dress had a V-neck which was cut low enough to show enough skin, yet remained tasteful.

I opened the door and whatever reservations I had about our date dissipated. There she was, standing at the door, her blond hair styled in that adorable wind swept look and a shy look on her face. We locked eyes and we both froze for a brief moment. Then she smiled that irresistible lopsided smile of hers. "Hi," she said and I melted. She held out a bouquet of white calla Lillie's. "These are for you."

"Thank you," I said and invited her in. I took the flowers from her and led her into the kitchen so I could put the flowers in some water. As I filled a vase with water, she unwrapped the flowers from the clear cellophane. She was wearing dark trousers and a bluish-grey lace and satin corset top with spaghetti straps. She picked the flowers up and placed them in the vase and looked at me and smiled. I could have sworn that I felt a reserved shyness to her and I felt even more attracted to her. We left the house and out to her car. When she led me to her car, I noted her strong arms and square shoulders and saw that she had a few more tattoos on the back of her upper arm and upper back. I had never had the urge to get any tattoos myself but on Riley, they looked incredibly sexy.

When we got to the restaurant, we were ushered through the dining room all the way into the kitchen, which was visible to the dining room through large windows and glass doors. We were seated at a small table for two with a perfect view of the kitchen and the pass where the food was served up to the wait staff. A tall and solidly built man in a chef's jacket came over to greet us and Riley stood up and gave him a hug. She introduced him as Bobby, the executive chef and part owner of the restaurant, as well as an old friend from "cooking school". Their modesty at calling a culinary institute a "cooking school" as well as their non-pretentious, good natured conversation about Bobby's twin daughters was like night and day compared to my last date who had tried to impress me with his "connections".

"I never thought I'd see the day that Riley would be on a date," Bobby told me and I could see a slight blush on my dinner companion's cheeks. "Nor did I ever think she'd step foot in here."

"Why not?" I asked, wondering if there was a rivalry between the two chefs.

"No meat," Riley answered and it took me a minute to realize what she had said.

"You mean this is a vegetarian restaurant?" I asked completely surprised.

She nodded and said "Only the best vegetarian restaurant in the city."

"So do you ladies want to order off the menu or do you want to be surprised?" Bobby asked us and Riley looked at me, deferring the decision to me.

"I think it'd be an insult to not put ourselves in your hands," I told him and he smiled.

"I like her already," he told Riley. He turned to our waiter who was filling our water glasses and asked him to bring out a certain bottle of wine and then went on his way back to the kitchen to bark orders at his cooks.

"I don't know what to say," I said, once we were alone. "A self-described meatatarian in a place that doesn't serve meat."

"Yeah well, I guess it was time I learned to eat vegetables," she said smiling.

"Thank you," I said, more seriously as I hadn't expected this at all. I had thought we'd just go somewhere where I'd just have to order a vegetarian version of a dish, like every other date I had ever been on. This was a first time in which the dining place of choice was selected solely for my benefit. The wine was brought out and Riley deferred the tasting to me. Slowly the food began to make an appearance and dish after dish, I was amazed at how the chef was able to bring out all the beautiful flavors of both exotic and ordinary vegetables and combined them expertly. Over the course of dinner, we shared stories of our childhoods, what it was like for me to have an older sister and for her to have a younger sister. We also discussed her tattoos and I learned that she had five of them - the two which I had already seen on her wrists, one on her left tricep which was a drawing Claire had made for her of the two of them standing hand in hand, one on her left upper back consisted of four zodiac signs, one for each member of her family, and lastly a tattoo of a Bodhi tree on her right upper back. Our conversations flowed easily and I was beginning to see how easy it would be to fall for Riley Starks Carson.

After dinner, we walked the short distance from the restaurant down to the beach. We found the boardwalk and followed it towards the famed Santa Monica Pier which, even from the distance, sounded and looked alive with people. I wondered if we would actually go to the pier as it was quite crowded and I thought that perhaps Riley would've wanted to go somewhere more quiet and, well, private. We hadn't made any physical contact yet tonight and I wondered what I would do if she wanted to, say, hold my hand in public. After talking to Jules, who's advice was to "just go with it and do what feels right", I had decided that I would be okay with holding her hand in public, regardless of what other people might think. Just being out with her tonight and spending time with her, I wasn't thinking about our date as a "lesbian date". I just saw it as a date between two people who enjoyed each other's company.

As we walked along the boardwalk, she was close by my side, but not close enough for contact. And as we got closer and closer to the pier, it became apparent that she was not going to make contact. I wondered if she was shy and nervous as the dating scenario was new to her as well, or was she just not attracted to me as maybe I had hoped she would be. We walked around the pier, looking at the various shops and watching the entertainers and I felt as if I had known her a lifetime. We joked and chatted and I felt completely comfortable in her presence. She got us tickets for the ferris wheel and eventually we got into one of the passenger cars and sat back to take in the view. The first time we got to the top I felt the ocean breeze and while it wasn't cold, it wasn't warm either. I involuntarily rubbed my upper arms and she draped her jacket over my shoulders. I thought for sure she would keep her arm around me but instead, she just sat back, her hands clasping on to her small purse on her lap. We sat side by side, our upper arms touching and she proceeded to point out various landmarks to me whenever we were up high enough. Every once in a while, I would catch a trace of her perfume which had a citrus hint to it. It was clean and refreshing. It suited her perfectly.

When the ride was over, we walked around the pier a little more and came across an ice cream cart. We looked at each other and broke out into wide grins. We got some ice cream and sat down on a bench and enjoyed our dessert. After awhile, the crowds started to thin out as the shops began to close up for the night. We walked back to the car and she drove me home. She walked me to the door and stood beside me as I unlocked it.

"Do you want to come in?" I asked, hoping she would say yes.

"Aunt Grace will probably be home soon if she isn't already," she answered. If I hadn't seen the look of regret in her eyes, I would've guessed that a second date was probably not in the cards.

I leaned on the door and looked into her beautiful green eyes, wanting so much to reach up and touch her face, wondering what her skin would feel like under my fingertips. "I really had a lovely time tonight."

"Me too," she said and smiled that signature smile of hers. Then, she looked as if she was pondering her next action.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked.

"How beautiful you look tonight," she answered, blushing. "Can I call you tomorrow?"

"I'd be offended if you didn't," I half teased her. Before I could say anything more, she leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. It was quick but soft, and my senses were quickly overwhelmed by the softness of her lips and the scent of her perfume. I inhaled deeply and soon she was pulling back.

"Goodnight, Alex," she said quietly and smiled shyly.

"Goodnight, Riley," I told her and she backed down the steps and headed towards her car. I opened the door and took a step inside. I looked back out at her car and saw her wave. I waved back and closed the door behind me, my back and head resting against the door. I closed my eyes and sighed. She had smelled so good and I had to admit that I had wanted her to initiate contact during our date. Was she not interested? Of course she was - she asked if she could call me. Was she waiting for me to initiate things between us? Or was she playing games and holding back in order to make me want her more? Thoughts began to nag my mind about whether or not I had made a mistake allowing myself to become attracted to Riley Carson. She was, after all, a Casanova, a player. She had admitted herself that she was not the monogamous type. I mentally shook my head and exhaled. If I got hurt, I'd have no one to blame but myself so I'd have to tread carefully.

"Nice flowers," I heard Grace's voice. I opened my eyes and saw her walking down the staircase. "You've been out with that writer fellow again?"

I shook my head and lifted myself off the door. I followed her into the kitchen and perched myself up onto one of the stools at the counter, admiring the flowers. They stood tall, the stems a vibrant green and strong and the virginal white flowers were flawless.

"So then who is he?" Grace asked.

"No one you'd know," I lied.

"Where did you go?" she continued.

"A place called 'Fresh', out in Santa Monica," I answered. I didn't see the need to lie to my sister completely.

"I've heard great things about that place," she commented. "That's very thoughtful of him to take you to a vegetarian place."

"I thought so," I agreed.

"Did he treat you well?" Grace asked, and I could tell that her maternal instincts were kicking in again.

"Very gallant and chivalrous," I answered. She was very much the 'gentleman' I thought. Maybe too much of a gentleman.

"Oh dear, is he married?" Grace asked, completely serious.

"No," I answered, hoping she'd stop interrogating me.

"Well, if you do end up liking him, do bring him around so I can meet him," she said and I was glad that our conversation was hopefully drawing to a close.

I nodded and hopped off the stool and gave my sister a goodnight kiss on the cheek. As I was leaving the kitchen, I heard her call out to me. "Alex - I'm glad to see you dating again, love."

I nodded and smiled and headed up the stairs to my room. I checked the time. It would be just after seven in the morning over in London and I knew that Jules wasn't a morning person. 'She'll understand,' I told myself and I picked up the phone.

Riley

I opened the door to the house from the garage and was greeted with a view straight into the family room where my roommate and best friend was buck naked with her back to me, sitting on top of her girlfriend and obviously riding her. "Holy shit, do I have to disinfect the couch now?" I called out to them.

Lenny stopped dead in her motions and turned her head around with Gabriella peering out from behind her. "You actually think this is the first time we've fucked on the couch?" Lenny asked, completely uninhibited by the fact that I had just walked in on them.

I turned to the closet by the door and went to hang up my jacket. I could smell the faint scent of Alex's musky perfume on it. I held it up to my nose and inhaled deeply. She had smelled incredible all night and I had to fight so hard with myself to not touch her.

"Why are you smelling your jacket?" Lenny's voice called out to me. I opened my eyes and turned to her. She had gotten off the couch and was pulling on her underwear as was Gabriella.

"Please, don't let me interrupt your mounting," I told them while I hung the jacket up on a hanger. Lenny came over and buried her nose in the jacket. When she came up for air, she grinned a shit eating grin.

"She smells good," Lenny said, looking at me expectantly.

"What?" I asked, self-conscious.

"Why are you home already?" Lenny asked, handing the jacket back to me. "Shouldn't you be lying between her legs and making her scream out for a deity?"

I fixed her a look and she held her hands up in mock surrender. "Apparently I've hit a nerve."

I hung up the jacket and followed her into the kitchen where Gabriella was pouring herself a glass of wine. I went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer and plopped myself down in the arm chair in the family room.

"So, what happened?" Lenny asked as they joined me. "How'd it go?"

"Dinner was fantastic," I said and took a drink. "Then we went for a walk on the pier, went for a ride on the ferris wheel, had ice cream. It went well. I think."

"You think?" Lenny questioned.

"How the hell am I supposed to know? I haven't been on a date since I was nineteen," I barked.

"Wow, someone's a bit touchy," Gabriella commented.

"I wish," I blurted out before I could stop myself. Seeing their raised eyebrows, I added, "I didn't touch her all night. Except to kiss her goodnight on the cheek."

"Tell me you're not going hetero on us. Did you want to touch her?" Lenny asked, concern in her voice. She probably thought I had gone and lost my mind.

"Oh God yes," I answered.

"Then why didn't you?" Gabriella tag teamed in the interrogation.

"Because this is her first time ever out with a woman," I answered. "I didn't know if she quite fully realized that we were two women on a date, you know?"

They both nodded. "So I didn't wanna put any pressure on her or put her in an awkward position," I continued. "I wanted her to be comfortable. Besides, we talked a lot and I got to know her a bit more."

Lenny was staring at me and Gabriella had this look on her face that I even knew what she was going to say before she even said it.

"Aww, that is so sweet!" my roommate's girlfriend said, practically clapping her hands together. "You were being such a gentleman!"

"Must've been painful," Lenny finally chimed in. "Being that close to her all night, with her smelling they way she did. Was she wearing something sexy?"

I nodded.

"Man, you must've been ready to explode," Lenny continued to rib me.

"You have no idea," I told her. "The entire date, I forced myself to not look at her chest. I've got the female equivalent of blue balls."

"So is there going to be a second date?" Lenny asked.

I nodded and took another sip of beer. "I asked if I could call her tomorrow."

"You asked if you could call her tomorrow?" Gabriella repeated my answer. "Where is all this chivalry coming from? Are you not well?"

"I'm very capable of being chivalrous, thank you very much," I said indignantly.

"And yet you're an ass most of the time," Lenny added.

"It's easier," I replied matter-of-factly.

We sat and watched TV in a companionable silence for awhile and then Gabriella headed upstairs to go to bed. Lenny and I went outside onto the patio where she proceeded to light up a skinny joint, after making sure I was okay with it. Despite the abundance of marijuana that was smoked at the restaurant after closing every night, I never partook in any of it. Smoking, drinking and drugs were common vices among the restaurant crowd and I knew them all too well. One of the reasons I came back to Los Angeles was for a fresh start and where I had the support of my family. I had gotten into too much trouble in New York on my own where I'd work until two, sometimes three in the morning, go hit an after hours bar or party where there would always be a variety of drugs available. One day, I had done a couple of lines of coke in the back office during a dinner shift. I returned to the kitchen and a Beef Wellington was called for. I reached into the oven and grabbed the pan with my bare hand. Of course I burnt my hand quite badly and it hurt like a sonofabitch later on. Being a chef, we've all had burns and lacerations so that was not a big deal. The big deal was that I was so high, I hadn't even realized what I had done because I hadn't felt the pain. That was when I decided it was time to sober up before I hurt myself any worse.

I moved back to L.A., went into rehab and sobered up. Being in the food industry, drugs and alcohol are plentiful and always available and present. It wasn't easy to stay sober but I stayed on track. I still allowed myself to indulge every once in a while with the beer and wine, to the dismay and concern of my parents, however I felt that I was always a responsible drinker. After three years of sobriety, my father showed his support for me by investing in Claire de Lune. Because my father was always a businessman who only invested in things he knew could make him money, I knew that he believed in me and that I couldn't let him down. So I kept my nose clean and worked hard at the restaurant. My only rule with the staff was that they could get stoned on their own time or after closing. If any of them were high or drunk during a shift, they were tossed out on their asses, even if it meant we'd be short staffed for a full house.

Lenny knew of my past and had always checked to make sure I was okay before anyone around me lit up, She took a couple of puffs on the joint as we sat out on the patio in the abnormally warm November night.

"Are you going to see her again?" Lenny asked after exhaling away from me.

"I hope so," I answered.

"You've never really told me why you never dated before," she stated her question. "I know you play the role of the monogamy-challenged heart breaker, but I don't buy it. I've known you too long."

I smiled. Of all my friends, Lenny knew me the longest and the best.

"Maybe I'm trying to beat my old man's record," I joked.

"Have you?" she asked, smirking.

"I doubt it," I answered. "Besides, I really don't want to know how many women my father has slept with."

"Seriously, though," Lenny asked after taking a drag on her joint. She exhaled and then continued. "Have you just never met anyone you liked enough to date, or did someone..."

"Break my heart in the past?" I finished for her. "That would be pretty typical and cliché wouldn't it?"

She shrugged and nodded.

"My first year in New York, I met a girl," I explained for the first time. "I really liked her and we dated. Typical lesbian pace, I brought her back to L.A. with me on Spring Break even though we'd only been together for about three weeks. At any rate, she spent the week trying to get my dad to listen to her demo tape."

"How hard was she trying?" Lenny asked, putting out the last of the joint.

"She was willing to get down on her knees," I answered.

"How did you find out?"

"My dad told me," I answered. "I sent her packing after that."

"You were in love with her after three weeks?" Lenny asked skeptically.

"Who said anything about love?" I asked in reply. "She didn't break my heart, if that's what you're thinking. She just reminded me that people will use me to get to my dad. I just learned to stop trusting, because I'll never know if a woman is with me because she wants to be with me, or because she wants something from my dad."

"Like not knowing if people are your friends because they like you or because of your name," Lenny added and I nodded in agreement. "So what about Alex?"

"I do like her," I confessed. "I can't stop thinking about her. And when she talks, I don't ever want her to stop."

"And it's not like she needs the fame or fortune, more like she's shied away from the spotlight," Lenny pointed out. She looked at me pointedly. "I hope things work out for you and Alex. I like her. I like what she's done to you too."

"Shut up," I told her, feeling the blush creep across my cheeks.

"Did you quit smoking for her?" Lenny asked, knowing me all too well.

"I quit smoking because Kris got busted smoking at school," I said, omitting the other half of the truth, but I couldn't avoid the smirk on her face. "And Alex thinks it's a disgusting habit."

Lenny busted out laughing. "I knew it!" she said, pointing at me. I fixed her a look.

"Seriously," Lenny continued. "I know the Riley that the others don't, but I've never seen you...smitten."

"Yeah, seriously, shut up before I hurt you," I warned her, half jokingly.

"You're cute when you're smitten," she added, ignoring my warning. "I won't tell anyone that you have a soft spot."

"You and Jason," I said, shaking my head. "You're both enjoying this too much."

"I just want you to be happy," she said and stood up from her chair. She came over and gave me a kiss on my cheek. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," I said to her retreating back.

Despite the rule about not calling your date the next day because you don't want to seem eager or desperate, the first thing I wanted to do as soon as I woke up was call Alex. However, my father beat me to the punch by calling me and inviting me over for dinner Sunday night because as he had put it, "there's someone who's going to want to see me." After agreeing to his demand so I could get him off the phone, I called Alex. I didn't care if I was coming across as needy. I missed hearing the sound of her voice, and then to find out that she was still lying in bed when I had called her, it took everything in me to not talk dirty to her or touch myself while talking to her.

If my day hadn't already been booked up with meetings with Jason and the rest of the restaurant staff, I would've asked her out again. She was being accosted by Grace to go shopping while the girls were spending the rest of the weekend with their father. Reluctantly, I had hung up the call with Alex as I needed to shower before heading to the restaurant.

We spent the afternoon brainstorming for menu ideas and I finally got Jason to agree to a couple of vegetarian dishes for the upcoming week's menu. We cooked up a few of the dishes we had never made before to decide whether or not the flavors worked like we had hoped and by evening, we had settled on a menu for the next couple of weeks. By then, the rest of the staff had arrived and tried out the new dishes as well as the wine samples that our vendor had brought by earlier in the week.

When I got home that night, I had to will myself to not call her again. I didn't want her to think I was a lost little puppy without her after just one date.

"Who are you kidding?" I asked myself and picked up my phone. But before I could dial her number, my phone rang. It was Alex. I smiled.

"You know, I should be on a date right now," I told my father as I walked into his house.

"You? On a date? Did I hear that right?" he asked, completely surprised.

"Yes, me, on a date," I replied in the affirmative.

"Stop teasing us, you know your old man's got a weak heart," a deep voice with a British accent which I hadn't heard in a long time said. I turned around to see one of my father's oldest friends, James Miller, or Uncle Jim as he's always been known to me. My dad and Uncle Jim had been friends long before I was ever born and despite being a famous television and film star in the UK, his true passion was music, and so he would spend most of his spare time with his band. They were a cover band and did a lot of covers of my father's band's stuff. He and my father would get together one or twice a year to collaborate on set lists that Uncle Jim's band would play at their shows. They mostly played in smaller venues like jazz clubs and at fund raisers, and most of the proceeds they ever raised were for charity. Uncle Jim was successful enough as an actor, he certainly didn't need the money from playing music. He played music because he loved it.

I went over to him and gave him a big hug. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard you had a new girlfriend so I had to come and see for myself," he said, straight faced. A few seconds later, he busted out laughing. "Oh you should have seen the look on your face. It was like I had just caught you going down on the Queen or something."

I closed my eyes and exhaled. "I'm glad I can amuse you," I said to the two men who were laughing at my expense.

We headed into the kitchen where my mother and sister were busy cooking. With the strict promise that I was only to help and do as I was told, as this was not my kitchen, I was allowed to assist them. Once dinner was ready, we settled in the dining room and visited with Uncle Jim. As it turns out, he was here for a few weeks to play a few gigs for charity.

"I have a friend who would love to see one of your shows," I told him. "She's a big fan. Think you can score your favorite chef a couple of tickets to one of your shows?"

"Cat Cora's here?" he asked, looking around.

"Funny!" I told him, not laughing.

"Come by the beach house next Saturday. I'm having a little get together after our first show," he told me. "And bring your friend," he added waggling his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes at his suggestion.

"You do realize that I do have a condition for these tickets," he said, putting an arm around me.

Alex

I was beginning to see why Lenny's girlfriend was so upset that night that we had gone out to the bar after the restaurant had closed. I had only been on one date with Riley, well, two dates, but after a long week of not seeing her, I was getting pretty antsy and couldn't wait for Saturday night to come fast enough. Despite my own warnings, her daily phone calls had wedged her into my heart and I was missing her terribly.

The second date wasn't really a date, but it was just the two of us spending some time together. It was more of a working date for Riley than anything. Apparently she and her sous chef had come up with some vegetarian dishes and she wanted me to try some, so on the Monday when they were closed, she had taken me to her restaurant and prepared the new dishes for me to try. I felt quite privileged and honored to be her sole audience and the fact that whenever I would taste a dish, she had this adorable look while waiting for my approval. The whole experience made me feel important to her and her world. Despite having had a wonderful time with Riley and watching her in her element, I think that day only added to my frustrations as we barely made any physical contact and like our first date, she left me with a kiss on the cheek and disappeared before I had a chance to pull her back for a proper kiss. Yes, I was getting frustrated because I was finding myself craving for her touch.

I finished putting on my makeup and gave myself a last look in the mirror. I had bought a new dress when Grace had dragged me out shopping with her and was now glad I had gone. Just as I grabbed the cashmere sweater off the bed, the doorbell rang and I headed downstairs. Riley, who was wearing dark jeans that rode low on her hips and a green satin halter top, had refused to tell me where we were going, just that it was a house party. Again, she was very chivalrous and held the car door for me as I got in and as I watched her walk around to her side of the car, I don't know if it was because I hadn't seen her in a few days or because of the lighting or what, but I suddenly noticed how sexy her lean and muscular arms were. My mind, by it's own volition, began to wonder what it would feel like to have those strong arms wrapped around me, or how her long slender fingers would navigate my body. Suddenly my mouth went dry and I felt a very distinct warmth growing inside me.

We drove down towards the coast and I managed to get my mind off her sexy bare arms and form coherent sentences, mostly to pester her about where we were going and who would be there. Eventually we pulled up to a beach house in Malibu and the driveway and street were already lined with cars. She opened the car door for me and we walked up the front steps to the brick mansion. She opened the door without even knocking and held it for me. As I walked through the threshold, I felt her hand on my lower back and that warmth that was inside me that had started in the car began to resurface. She guided me through the house and people and finally out to the back of the house by the pool. We walked up to a tall man in a black t-shirt and jeans and she reached out and put a hand on his arm. He turned around and reflexively, my eyes widened and a grin began to grow on my lips. The man was more handsome in person than I had remembered him on screen.

"Uncle Jim," Riley said after he excused himself from the other guests he had been conversing with and gave her a hug and kiss. "This is Alex McGovern. Alex, James Miller."

"Please, call me Jim," he said and took my hand and gave it a chaste and gentlemanly kiss.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," I managed to tell him through my excitement. "I'm a big fan of your work."

"As am I of your work, Ms. McGovern," he said and I gave him an inquiring look. "You're a very talented writer. I never expected Nicholas McGovern to have produced such a beautiful and smart daughter with his demon seed. You must take after your mother."

"You know my father?" I asked.

"Of course," he answered. "The bastard made me audition for one of his films. I told him to sod off."

"He was a fool," I told him and smiled and received a deep throaty laugh in return. I turned to Riley who was watching us with an amused expression. "How do you know each other?"

"Her father and I go back a ways," Jim replied and put an arm around Riley. "I've known this one since she was still wearing nappies."

Riley blushed slightly and shrugged her shoulders. "Do you want a drink?"

"Sure," I answered, nodding and gave her a grateful smile. I had mentioned in our conversations that I had grown up watching James Miller films and knew most of them by heart but never did I realize that she knew him, much less take me to meet him. I found it ironic that despite having a film director and producer for a father and that Jim Miller and I came from the same country, I finally got to meet the man in a foreign country through someone completely new in my life.

While Riley went to get us some drinks, I asked Jim what he was doing here, whether he was filming or vacationing and found out that he was doing some benefit concerts for a few weeks. We chatted quite amicably about my move to L.A. and some differences we have found between the U.K. and America.

As I was telling him about how it's still taking me time to get used to driving in L.A., I realized he was looking at me quite intently. "What is it?" I asked hesitantly.

"You are absolutely, amazingly, beautiful," he said. Had those words come from any other man, they would've sounded like a lame come on, but from James Miller, it only made me blush.

"Ms. McGovern, would you indulge an old git and have dinner with me sometime?" he asked. Again, any other man asking a woman out after only meeting her for several minutes would have been called stupidly ambitious, however with my fellow countryman it was simply charming.

At that moment, Riley returned with two drinks and handed one to me. Jim was still looking at me expectantly and so I reached out and took Riley's free hand in mine. "Thank you and I'm extremely flattered, however, I am seeing someone."

An eyebrow rose slowly on Riley's brow as she turned to look at me.

"Blimey!" Jim exclaimed and shook his head. He reached out and put his arm around Riley's shoulder. "I do apologize, lass. Had I known she was with you I would have refrained from behaving like a smarmy git. I do have to ask though, what in the hell were you doing having dinner with us last week when you could have been spending time with this lovely lady?"

"My dad told me someone wanted to see me," Riley answered, placing the stress on the word 'someone'.

"I'd have told him to piss off," Jim answered with a jovial laugh. Someone came up to him and told him something in his ear and he turned back to us. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go and make a fool of myself with some visitors. I'll see you in a bit." With a wink and a kiss on our cheeks, he left us.

"Did he just do what I think he did?" Riley asked uncertainly looking at his retreating back and then back at me. I smiled and nodded while she shook her head.

"You never told me you knew James Miller," I said to Riley in a half joking, half accusingly.

She turned to face me completely, her hand still in mine and arched an eyebrow. "You never told me you were seeing someone."

I couldn't help the smile that was growing on my face. "Thank you for bringing me here."

She smiled shyly. "You're welcome. You wanna take a tour of the place?"

I nodded rapidly and she led me by the hand back into the house. She took me to tour through the upstairs, the gourmet kitchen, family room, entertainment room and the home music studio where Jim and his band would play. It took us a while to navigate through the house as there were people everywhere. Lastly, we headed back out to the pool house in the back. When we opened the door to the pool house, not surprisingly, there were about five or six people in there already, sitting around a coffee table smoking. It only took a couple of seconds to know that what they were smoking wasn't a regular tobacco cigarette. One of them leaned forward and lowered his face to the coffee table upon which I saw a few white lines of powder. He quickly snorted and a line of the powder disappeared. he sat back in his chair and closed his eyes.

"You girls wanna party?" The guy beside him held out the rolled cigarette to us.

"We're good, thanks," Riley told him and we backed out the door and closed it behind us. She turned to me and hesitantly asked, "I didn't mean to speak for you...did you want to...?"

I shook my head. We headed back into the house and I don't know if it was because I hadn't noticed it before or if it was just that time of night at a party, but there were people in the kitchen, snorting up more white lines on the kitchen island counter and in the living room, people sitting around, passing joints between them. I felt Riley lean into me and whisper in my ear, "Do you wanna get outta here?"

I heard the tension in her voice and nodded. We navigated through the house and finally found Jim in the entertainment room at the bar. We thanked him for the party and said our goodbyes. He told Riley something about just telling her name at the door tomorrow night and we left.

"What was that all about?" I asked as we headed to the car.

"We're going to go see him and his band tomorrow," she said, a smile playing on her lips.

"Really?" I asked, the excitement in me rose instantly.

"Yeah," she said, smiling. We reached the car and she opened the door for me. She let go of my hand and that's when I realized that she had held onto my hand the whole time we had been exploring at the party and I hadn't felt the least bit uncomfortable. I was reluctant to lose her touch but knew she had to get into the car to drive.

"So where do you want to go?" I asked after she got into the driver's seat. She seemed to be in deep thought for a moment and then smiled. She pulled out her iPhone and made a quick phone call. She drove away from the beach house without a word, just that damn smile on her lips. Normally, being left clueless would frustrate me to no end, but somehow with Riley, I enjoyed being left at her mercy.

We pulled up to a security gate and one of the two security guards came out and approached the car. Riley opened her window and the guard had a smile on his face. She shook his hand and introduced him as "Marcus". After a brief exchange, he returned to the security booth and said something to the other guard. The security gate opened up for us to drive through, with Marcus in tow on some kind of all terrain vehicle. We drove up to a large Romanesque building and parked the car. Once again, Riley led me by the hand into the building after Marcus had unlocked the doors and let us in.

"Call me to lock up when you're done," he said to her and left us to roam through what I had concluded was a museum. Slowly we walked through the building from room to room, the only sounds echoing through the halls were the clicking of our heels on the marble floor. It was so quiet that we found ourselves involuntarily whispering as we peered at the various Greek statues and exhibits. We walked hand in hand, and whenever we stopped to look at something, our bodies would navigate together. And every time we were in close proximity like that and she'd turn to say something to me, the butterflies would stir in my stomach.

After we had ventured through the exhibits, we walked through a set of doors and ended up in a long garden with hedge-lined pathways and stone benches. In the middle was a fairly long rectangular reflecting pool that was surrounded by various plants, shrubs and bronze sculptures. Soft lights glowed from the covered walk ways along the length of the garden and gave it a warm and inviting feeling. We strolled leisurely through the garden and eventually settled down onto a bench that offered us a spectacular view of the city's lights.

"You know, for someone who doesn't date, you do know how to show a girl a good time," I told her. She hung her head but I could tell she was smiling. "Riley Carson, are you blushing?" I teased her and nudged her shoulder.

She looked up, grinning, her cheeks red. In the short while that I've known her, I have found her grins quite addictive.

"So how do you know Marcus, the security guard?" I asked, having decided to not tease or torment her further.

"We went to high school together," she answered. "His family runs a security company." She bit down on her bottom lip. and grew serious. "I'm sorry if I dragged you away from that party before you were ready to go."

"Something made you uncomfortable," I ventured a guess. Although she hid it well, I had sensed something was off. "It was the drugs wasn't it?"

She nodded. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not a prude and offended by it," she explained and then took a deep breath. "I'm a recovered addict. I did a lot of coke when I was in New York, and I hurt myself pretty badly one night so I came back to L.A. to...get better. I should have told you this sooner and I wouldn't blame you if you just want to go back to being friends -"

Her words were hurried now as the nervousness rose in her and I did what I felt would best convey my feelings for her. I closed my eyes and I kissed her. Her lips were soft and I could feel her surprise at what I had done, but then her lips relaxed and accepted my kiss. It was chaste, yet caused my heart to beat loudly in my chest and a distinctive tingling sensation south of my abdomen. I slowly pulled back, realizing how heavily I was breathing.

"I've been sober for six years and I promise you I have no intention or want to go back to that stuff," she whispered and I could see the sincerity etched in her face and eyes.

I nodded and smiled. "I believe you."

We spent the next while just talking and it slowly became clear to me that for all the confidence, sometimes arrogance, and self assured image that Riley projected, deep down inside, she had her own fears and insecurities just like everyone else. I found myself fortunate to have been given a glimpse into who the real Riley was and it only made me that much more attracted to her.

The place was already in full swing, loud music enveloping the establishment by the time we arrived. Riley had left the restaurant early to pick me up and we had arrived shortly after the scheduled showtime. Riley had a brief conversation with the security guard and the manager of the club and soon enough we were seated at a table close to the stage. As we sat down, we got a nod and smile from the man himself on stage. I had seen every James Miller film but I had never seen the man play music before. His band was a lot larger than what I had thought. He had no fewer than three singers, and a total of about twelve band members if I had counted correctly. He himself played guitar and bass guitar but did not sing. As Riley informed me, despite his artistic talents as an actor and guitarist, singing was not his strong suit. Besides, he simply saw himself as another band member, even though 99% of the audience who attended his shows were there because of him.

They were a polished band, their performance well rehearsed. They played various songs from all types of genres from classic rock and roll to jazz and blues and even disco. As we enjoyed the show, we ordered some more drinks and Riley excused herself to the restroom. The band wrapped up Stevie Wonder's Superstition and Jim traded his bass guitar for an electric guitar.

"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we have a special guest with us," he said into the mic. "Someone whom I consider a daughter to me. I used to spend a lot of time with her father who helped me with our musical endeavors and every time I'd jam with him, she would always sit and watch us, basically from the time she was in diapers. Eventually, she started playing with us, and quite frankly, I much prefer playing with her than her father. Despite her talents, she rebelled against her father and myself, refusing to become a musician - children are so ungrateful sometimes aren't they?"

I looked around to see if Riley was coming out of the restroom yet or not but saw no sign of her.

"Please give a warm welcome to the lovely Riley Carson," Jim added with a wave of his arm. I was shocked as I saw my date walk onto the stage, carrying a guitar. She gave a shy wave and then looked at me with a shrug and a smile. She strapped on the guitar she had been holding. She was a spitting image of Rod when he was much younger, with her haphazardly spiked blond hair, wearing jeans and a black sleeveless button shirt. Despite her shyness and hesitancy when she first stepped onto the stage, as she began to play, she looked more and more at home.

They began playing Beethoven's "Fur Elise" with a hip hop percussion flare to it and then they transitioned to "Flight of the Bumblebee". I was in awe of how perfectly synchronized Riley and Jim were playing on their guitars. Finally, they finished with Pachelbel's "Canon" with Riley, Jim and a third guitarist playing what was normally the different violins and it was absolutely amazing as evidenced by the audience's applause and whistles. I had had no idea that Riley played any music at all, but it shouldn't have surprised me as she was the offspring of a musical legend.

After the applause simmered down, she and Jim were now both seated on stools and sporting acoustic guitars playing a flamenco version of Simon and Garfunkel's "Cecilia" with the three singers in the band providing the vocals. As she played, the muscles in her right forearm flexed as she plucked the strings, and her long slender fingers floated over the frets effortlessly. She made it look so easy. After the song was over, she gave a wave and disappeared off the stage. The band wasted no time and started to play another song, calling everyone to get up out of their seats and start dancing. As the people began to crowd the dance floor, I saw Riley making her way over to me. When she reached me, she held out her hand and I took it, letting her pull me to the dance floor.

Riley

After the show, we were invited into a private party room with the band while they wound down and relaxed. We sat in one corner of the large booth in the room while Uncle Jim went to fetch us some drinks. Alex was sitting closely beside me, her hand on my thigh. "You are full of surprises aren't you?" she asked grinning. She had been basically grinning non stop since we had arrived at the show and I didn't want her to stop.

"If that's what it takes to keep that smile on your face," I told her.

"You make me smile," she said in return and leaned in, pressing her lips to mine. I forced myself to calm my racing heart and to just relax and enjoy the feel of her lips on mine. I felt her soft lips part and mirrored her movements as the tip of her tongue darted across my bottom lip.

"Ahem, ladies," Uncle Jim's voice announced his return. Breaking apart, we smiled sheepishly as he set our drinks down onto the table.

"Thank you," we said in unison and he smiled smugly at us as he sat down across from us.

"I could tell from the look on your face," he started, "that you had no idea this one could play, did you?"

Alex swallowed her sip of her wine and shook her head. "Not a clue. It was quite the pleasant surprise."

"It's the first time she's ever played in public," he continued and I felt my cheeks growing warm. "Stubborn one she is. I've asked her to play with us numerous times before but she's always told me to piss off. Not this time though. She agreed to do it for you."

Alex turned to look at me for confirmation and I shrugged and nodded.

"Thank you," Alex said, her hand that was on my knee now grasped my hand.

"You're welcome," I answered.

"Why haven't you ever played before? You're fantastic!" she asked and Uncle Jim questioned me silently with a raise of his eyebrows as well.

I took a drink of my beer. "I guess... I just don't want to be compared to my dad. I look enough like him, you know?" Then I added, jokingly, "Besides, I don't wanna steal the spotlight away from the old man. It's all he's got."

Alex and Uncle Jim laughed. "Alex," Uncle Jim said, turning his attention to my date. "I've no idea what you've done or how you did it, but thank you for coming into this girl's life. Whether you know it or not, you've made quite an impact on the lass."

"Have I?" Alex asked, looking from Uncle Jim and then to me with a teasing look in her eye.

"Aye," he answered for me.

Feeling affected by her gaze, I picked up my beer and held it up. "Drink up, old man. You're starting to get sentimental."

He raised his beer and tapped his bottle against mine, and then against Alex's glass and we drank a silent toast. I could tell Alex was cataloging what Uncle Jim had said, probably to interrogate me about it at another time.

"Now, Ms. McGovern," my surrogate uncle continued. "I've a project that's in the works next year for a autobiography and quite frankly, I can read a script like nobody's business but I'm shit at writing. So I've been looking for a writer to do a biography, but I have yet to meet anyone who's work I give a rat's ass about enough to trust to write my story. That was until yesterday, when I met you. I'm familiar with your work, and after seeing what you've done to this girl, I have an instinctual trust towards you. So what do you say, will you write my story?"

"I'm extremely flattered that you even know my work let alone trust me to proposition me," Alex responded, clearly surprised. "However, I'm not a book writer. I'm a freelance journalist and blogger. I've never written a book. In fact, I've no desire to write a book."

"Really? I thought that that was what all writers ultimately want to do - write a book," I joked.

"Not this writer," she answered and I could tell she was being completely honest.

"Why not?" I asked out of curiosity and not as though I was challenging her sincerity.

"My mother's penned over ten bestsellers in her career, five of which have been turned into films," Alex explained.

I nodded my understanding. Alex and I were more alike than I had thought. "You don't want to be compared to her."

Alex nodded. "I enjoy what I do, which is more of a commentary on life than anything. My mother's the story teller, not me."

"The sarcasm and wit that I've read from you leads me to believe you would be able to tell my story quite effectively," Uncle Jim tried to persuade her. "I've never written a book either but that's not going to stop them from paying me to do so. I'm not asking you to say yes or no right now. But please do think about it."

And she did pause and seemed to be thinking about it. She glanced at me and I just gave her a smile and a supportive squeeze of her hand. "I'll think about it," she finally told him and he grinned widely, knowing that half the battle had been won.

He jotted his phone number down onto a napkin and handed it to her. "Please let me know what you decide, and I hope it'll be a resounding 'yes'."

"By the way, Uncle Jim," I told him, realizing that he was the only one aside from Lenny who knew about us. "Our families don't know that we're seeing each other, so we'd appreciate your discretion." He nodded his understanding.

When we left the club, I wasn't sure where to go but I knew I wasn't ready to part with Alex just yet, even though it was already well after one in the morning. I abandoned all warnings in my head to take things slow and asked her if she wanted to go back to my place.

"Yes," was all she said with a look that made my heart stop and I had to remind myself to breath again when I got into the car.

When we got home, Lenny's car wasn't in the garage which meant there would be no chance of us walking in on her and Gabriella having sex. I gave Alex a tour of the house and we wound up in the family room. I poured us each a glass of wine and went to turn on the fireplace. She was about to sit down on the couch. "I wouldn't sit there," I told her, grimacing, recalling the last activity which had taken place on said couch the last time I had walked in on Lenny and Gabriella. She looked at me questioningly.

"Lenny and Gabriella," I began but was unable to tell her. "Let's just say that I have no idea if they've disinfected it yet."

She chuckled. "Got it." She smiled her understanding. She placed a cushion down onto the floor and sat on it, facing the fireplace, her back against the couch. Once the fire was started, I plugged my iPhone onto the stereo dock and turned on some soft flamenco music. I moved back and sat down beside her. We clinked glasses and took a drink.

"You have a lovely home," she complimented me.

"Thank you," I accepted. "It's big for one person. That's why I have a roommate. If my father had his choice, he'd have expanded his house and I'd stay in one end of the house."

"But?" she asked.

"But, I need my own space," I answered.

"For your hookups?" she asked teasingly but I felt that part of her was curious about my sexual past.

I shook my head. "I haven't brought anyone home in over ten years. It was always at their place or wherever, but never my place."

"Why?" she inquired.

"You can't exactly leave if you're at your own house," I answered. I saw her digest what I had just said and added, "I'm just being completely honest."

She nodded. "I appreciate that."

"I never did sleepovers either," I added. "This is my safe place...my own space...for me. Where I can just be me."

"And so you broke your own rule by bringing me here," she pointed out.

I smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I did."

"Thank you," she said quietly. I wanted to lean in and kiss her, to kiss her mouth, her neck, her chest, her breasts, her body. But I held back. Was she ready for all that?

"I need to ask you something," she said, not meeting my gaze.

"Sure," I said and finally she looked at me.

"Why...I...," she stammered. She took a deep breath and then exhaled. "Are you attracted to me?"

"Since the first day we met," I confessed.

"Then why..." she began and then paused to take another quick breath. "We've kissed twice and both times, I initiated it. Have you been holding back?"

I nodded. She was wondering why I wasn't being physical with her. It felt refreshing to be with a woman who wasn't afraid to tackle questions or issues head on instead of one who expected me to know if something was wrong. Even from the first time we sat and had a conversation upon the hills after I took her for a ride on my bike, she was direct in asking me about myself. I appreciated her not playing the typical dyke drama head games.

"I'm not sure how to explain it but I'll try," I started. "I've been with a lot of women, some of whom I didn't even really care to know their name. But I care about you and I don't want to do anything that you're not comfortable with, and quite honestly, I'm at a loss as to what you're ready for so I don't want to assume. And I don't want to take things lightly or for granted, if that makes any sense." I was struggling with my thoughts and how to convey my feelings. She took my wine glass and placed hers and mine on the coffee table and turned back to me. She lifted a hand and placed it against my cheek, her hand warm and soft.

"Kiss me, Riley," she told me, a hint of a smile on her lips. I looked into her crystal blue eyes and I couldn't deny her request or my own want. I leaned in slowly, teasing both her and myself with my snail's pace but I wanted to relish the moment. My eyes fluttered closed and I inhaled the scent of her perfume. She smelled delicious. I touched my lips to hers gently. I had kissed a lot of women in my lifetime, but kissing Alex felt different. Her hand which had been cupping my cheek slid into my hair and her lips parted. My tongue slid into her mouth and her tongue welcomed me. Suddenly, it felt like all those kisses before Alex were simply practice to lead up to her.

She massaged my mouth with her tongue and lips and despite the throbbing between my legs, I focused on just kissing her and tasting her. The slow languid strokes of our tongues began to grow slightly faster with surer movements. I cupped her cheek with my hand while the other ran up and down along her arm. She wrapped her lips around my tongue and started sucking on it and I had to fight with every fiber of my being to not rip her clothes off.

She finally released my tongue and I had to break away from her for air. We were both breathing heavily.

"Where did you learn that?" I asked, breathlessly.

"You like?" she asked smiling smugly.

"Yeah," I answered, still laboring for breath.

Alex

I was quite satisfied with myself when I saw how affected she had become from my tongue teasing. I leaned into her again and her lips met mine, her tongue immediately searching for mine. It felt so different kissing a woman. There was no scratchiness of stubble or a beard, in fact, her skin was incredibly smooth and warm. And oh did she know how to kiss. I had had my reservations about how many women she had possibly kissed before me, but I no longer cared. All I knew was that with every stroke of her tongue against mine, I just wanted more of her. No man had ever aroused me this much through kissing.

Although the hunger was growing between us, her kisses were gentle and soft. I still had my hand tangled in her hair which was surprisingly quite soft. My other hand ran down along her bare arm which had found its way around my waist. She pulled me closer to her and I snaked my arm around her, finding a bare strip of flesh along her back, between her jeans and the hem of her shirt. She held me tight against her and her kisses were doing things to me that I had never imagined kisses could do. I felt the butterflies in my stomach and the fire between my legs and wondered if she was feeling the same way. Our lips parted, and we pressed our foreheads together

I opened my eyes and watched her slowly open her own. Her eyes were dark and she was catching her breath.

"I want you," she managed to breath out in a husky whisper. Her tone was not lustful, but rather held a raw honesty and vulnerability that I had never heard from her before.

Any reservations I had about being with another woman, never mind that woman being Riley Carson, were extinguished and there was only one thing left to say. "You have me."

She rose up and held out her hand to me. I took it and she pulled me up off the floor. We made our way upstairs to her bedroom, and as we walked up the stairs, my hand developed a mind of its own and reached out and slid its way under her shirt and grabbed a hold of the waistband of her jeans. When we got to the top of the stairs, she turned around and pinned me against the wall, her lips against mine. Again, I ran a hand into her hair and my other arm wrapped around her with my hand having snaked up her back under her shirt. She pressed herself flush against me and I felt my whole body light on fire. Our lips and tongues played, quickly becoming familiar with each other. Her arms were around my waist, and she slid one leg in between mine as she continued to pin me against the wall. I had to do all I could to not grind my hips against her thigh.

Thankfully, she pulled back and led me into the bedroom. I swore that had she continued to press into me in the wall, I would've wanted her to take me right there and then. Once in the bedroom, our lips met again and she slid her hands under my shirt and ran her hands along my sides and back. Her hands gently and patiently roamed over my flesh and I felt like my whole body was a live wire, ready to ignite. I couldn't resist any longer and so I slid my hands under her shirt, caressing her back and then her stomach on which I swore I felt some ripples.

She moved down to my neck, her soft lips and tongue searing my skin with kisses. Her hands slowly moved over my stomach and hands brushing the underside of my breasts and I felt myself arch into her, begging to be touched. She removed her hands from under my shirt and before I could protest, she lifted my shirt up and then off. She repeated with my camisole. Her lips were on my neck, collarbones and chest and finally her hands cupped my breasts, giving them a soft squeeze through my bra. Her mouth sought out mine again and I began to unbutton her shirt.

I walked backwards to the bed and sat down on it. She shrugged her shirt off her shoulders and I had to swallow hard at the sight in front of me. She had the faint outlines of a hard stomach and an unmissable and well defined "Apollo's belt". She was more toned and fit than any guy I had ever dated.

"Isn't there a saying to never trust a skinny chef?" I teased, my mouth practically watering at the sight before me.

"Skinny chefs are the only ones who'll fit into a restaurant kitchen," she told me with a smile and leaned over me. She reached down to the waistband of my jeans and looked into my eyes. "Can I?" she asked quietly.

The gentleness in her voice rendered me speechless and all I could do was nod. I reclined back onto the bed and she started to kiss my neck and down my chest. Her lips on my stomach were like flutters on my skin. She unbuttoned my jeans and eased them off my hips and legs. Her eyes raked over my partially nude body and when her eyes met mine, I saw desire in her now dark eyes.

"You are absolutely gorgeous," she said and I felt myself blush.

She laid down beside me and I turned to her, my mouth seeking out hers. I was already addicted to kissing her and the feel of her lips on me. She caressed my arm and the next thing I knew, she had unhooked my bra. Slowly she slid my bra off and with some maneuvering, it was soon tossed over the side of the bed. She planted random kisses along my neck and then a hand cupped one of my breasts. I moaned into her mouth as her thumb brushed over an erect nipple. Reflexively, I wrapped a leg over her hips, pushing my body closer to hers. I raked my nails over her abdomen, relishing in the feel her firm muscles. I ran my hand up her side and then across her back.

"I've never unhooked a bra off someone else before," I told her hesitantly as I was afraid I'd fail miserably.

"There's always a first time for everything," she whispered into my ear in between licks and sucks on my earlobe. "Just take your time."

I felt for the clasp on her bra and used my fingers to feel it out. Then with a couple flicks of the wrist, it was unhooked. "Yay!" I cheered triumphantly and she laughed. She rolled me over onto my back and removed her bra. She lowered herself onto me and we both let out a moan as our skin and breasts came into contact with one another. Lying on top of me, she had one leg resting in between mine and I was growing increasingly wet by the pressure of her thigh against my crotch.

She rested on her elbows on either side of head, her tongue endlessly exploring my mouth and vice versa. I ran my hands up and down her back and then finally slide my hands under the waist band of her jeans and felt the wide elastic band of her underwear. It didn't surprise me that she would wear boy shorts. I gave her ass a squeeze with both hands and reveled in the firmness of her backside. She started to plant kisses along my jaw and then my neck. Her hands had found my breasts and were teasing them mercilessly. Soon, her lips replaced her thumbs on my nipples and I felt like I had died and gone to heaven.

I reached around to her front and undid the button on her jeans and slid the zipper down. She rose up off the bed and slid the jeans over her hips, dropping them onto the floor. She stepped out of her jeans and returned to the bed, lying on top of me. I had spread my legs, welcoming her back and she nestled her hips perfectly in the vee of my legs. We laid there, kissing and enjoying the taste of one another but soon enough, the throbbing between my legs was too noticeable to ignore. Before I could say anything, she moved downwards and took a nipple into her mouth and I closed my eyes at the sensation of her lips and tongue on my breast. Her mouth was warm and her tongue was flicking over my nipple, and I swore I must have been soaking through my lace thong.

Her mouth tortured my breasts and nipples slowly as she took her time, lazily drawing random patterns with her tongue. My breathing was growing ragged and every time I saw a peek of her tongue over my nipples, I became more and more aroused. My hips were noticeably moving and grinding against her body and I was sure she knew I needed more. She licked and kissed her way down my stomach. As if to tease me, she skipped over my pubic region and kissed along my inner thighs as she slid lower. Just as I was about to voice my frustration with her teasing, I felt her mouth over my flesh, through my underwear. My hips bucked upward in reaction instantly. Her fingers slowly peeled the undergarment off my hips and she tossed them aside. With a feral look and a smirk, she dipped her head in between my legs and I felt her tongue on me. A moan escaped from my throat and I grasped the bed linens with my hands.

She ran her tongue along my folds, alternating between quick flicks and long slow broad licks. I raised my knees and spread my legs wider and she hooked her arms under my legs, her hands reaching up to touch my stomach and breasts. I had never felt this aroused before in my life and the sensation of her mouth on my sex was out of this world. Then I felt the suction on my clit and my hips started to grind against her mouth. The pressure was building and I knew that with all the foreplay we had had, I wasn't going to last much longer. I ran a hand into her hair and I felt her enter me with her finger. I had to force myself to keep my eyes open and watch her. She was sliding in and out of me effortlessly and her lips were wrapped around my clit. I ground my hips faster and harder into her and I couldn't hold on any longer as my eyes rolled up and closed and my orgasm ripped through me as cries fell from my lips.

Wave after wave washed over me as she continued to stroke me and as my movements slowed, she released the suction on my clit and eventually her hand stilled. When I finally opened my eyes, she was kissing her way back up my body. She laid down, her length partially on top of me, her hand still between my legs, her finger still inside me but motionless.

Her lips claimed mine in a hot searing kiss and when we broke apart, I had to take long slow breaths to calm my heart and body. I licked my lips. "That was amazing," I told her. I had never had an orgasm as intense as that before. Our legs were entangled and I could feel her wetness against my thigh. I wanted to give her the same pleasure as she had just given me but she simply nuzzled my neck and told me that there was no rush and that we had all night.

Riley

When she screamed out her orgasm, I almost came but I held off. This was about her, not me. I wanted her first orgasm with me to be memorable and not distracted by my own needs. I buried my face in the crook of her neck and inhaled her. She smelled out of this world, her perfume mixed with her arousal.

I simply held onto her, nuzzling her neck, my finger still deep inside her. Her warm, wet and silky walls surrounded my finger and I had no desire to extract it. I began kissing along her jawline and then her lips with little quick kisses. When I felt her body had relaxed completely, I slowly started to move my finger, gently rubbing her G-spot.

"What are you doing?" she asked, smiling, in between kisses.

"Enjoying myself," I answered her.

She placed a hand on my hand that was rubbing and stilled my movements. "I don't think I can have another one."

I just smiled and sucked on an earlobe.

"I've never had multiple orgasms before," she admitted quietly, the blush coloring her cheeks.

I kissed her softly on her lips. "Do you trust me?"

She nodded and slowly removed her hand from on top of mine. Instead, she reached up and cupped one of my breasts and I had to force myself to focus on the task at hand. I slowly stroked her and took one of her erect nipples into my mouth, my tongue massaging it and licking it in random patterns. I took my time, enjoying the taste of breasts and skin and the feel of her flesh surrounding my finger. Gradually, her hips started to move and she was growing wetter. I moved back up and captured her lips in a slow kiss which escalated to one with much more hunger as her hips moved faster and harder against my finger and hand. She wrapped a leg around my hips, giving me better access to stroke her deeper. I withdrew my middle finger and then re-entered her with two fingers and she let out a loud moan. I stroked her with more pressure and soon her hips were bucking wildly. I had to stay cognizant to not grind my own hips against her leg when she screamed out my name.

She laid still, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling rapidly with her breathing. I saw the smallest of movements on her neck - her pulse point. I licked it and sucked on it. "You'll leave a mark," she managed to breath out.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," I whispered to her after having released her flesh from my mouth.

"You're terrible, you know that," she scolded me. I finally lifted my head from her neck and saw that she had opened her eyes. She grinned and I melted. "I haven't the words to describe how fantastic that was."

"What? A writer at a loss for words?" I teased her and she playfully slapped my arm.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you to not insult a woman after you've made her see stars?" she teased me back.

"My mother would freak out if she knew what I was doing to you right now," I told her. "She knows Grace would kill me."

"Well," she said, thoughtfully, "We can't have you dying before I get a chance to give you an orgasm now can we?"

"That would be rude of you if you were to let that happen," I agreed.

With a mischievous smile, she rolled me onto my back and straddled my hips, her hands pinning my arms above my head. I gazed at her long arms, her breasts above me, her slim waist, flat stomach and her legs, those legs seemed to go on forever, and I felt like the luckiest woman on earth. The dumb fuck of an ex-boyfriend of hers didn't know what he had lost. She lowered her head and her tongue teased my mouth, licking my lips and then pulling away. She licked my tongue and lured it into her mouth and started to suck on it again and I reflexively lifted my hips upwards. I needed contact. Knowing what I wanted, she lowered her self down onto me, our pubic bones touching.

She finally released my tongue from the sweet torture of her suckling and moved down to my breasts. She started kissing them and slowly, eventually, after much begging from me, she took a nipple into her mouth and my eyes slammed shut. I arched my back, and she licked and sucked on my nipples expertly like she'd been doing it all her life. While her lips and tongue played with my hard nipples, she reached down and slid my underwear off my hips. I lifted my hips and released my nipple from her mouth to discard my shorts. She returned to me, crawling up from my legs with a feral look in her eyes. Smiling, she licked up one side of the muscles along my hips and then up the other. I quietly said a prayer of thanks for my genetics and that I found someone who seemed to appreciate my physique.

She was kissing me around my navel and lower abdomen and despite her skills with her mouth, I was aware that this was also her first time with a woman. "Alex, you don't have to," I told her softly.

She looked up at me and then kissed a trail up my body. "I want to feel you," she said, kissing my jawline while her hand roamed over my stomach. I nodded and her hand slid lower until she was cupping me in her hand. Slowly, she rubbed me and then a finger slid into my folds. I closed my eyes and focused on her touch, telling myself to be patient and not rush things. I had been so wound up from her orgasms that I was already close to exploding when I felt her finger on my clit. She dipped her finger slightly into my opening and then drew it back up to my clit, coating it with my juices. She did that a few more times and finally I opened my eyes.

"Alex, I'm about ready to explode here," I panted and she smiled smugly. Looking into my eyes, she slid a finger inside me and we both gasped at the feeling of her penetrating me. She slid her finger in and out of me a couple of times and then she entered me with two fingers. She leaned down and kissed me, her tongue invading my mouth and she flattened her hand against me, her fingers stroking me, the heel of her hand providing pressure against my clit. I bent one leg up and turned my body into hers and she took the cue to thrust harder and faster. I felt my lower abdomen tighten and then white light behind my eyelids as my orgasm exploded. She let me ride out the last waves until I was spent and lying limply on the bed.

When I finally opened my eyes, she was lying beside me, her head propped up on arm, watching me with a satisfied smile on her face. Her hand was still between my legs, cupping my sex, her finger just teasing my folds lightly. I reached up and cupped her face in my hand, my thumb brushing over her lips.

"I'm in no condition to drive you home tonight - knees are too weak," I told her, smiling. "You're just going to have to spend the night here."

"I have no objections to that," she said and leaned down for another kiss.

For the first time in my life, I found myself waking up without the aid of an alarm clock. When I opened my eyes, it was already bright outside. I was lying on my stomach and the bed was empty, save for me. I lifted my head from the pillow and turned to look at the other side of the bedroom and I saw her, sitting on the floor, her back to me. She was wearing her camisole from last night and what looked like a pair of my boy shorts underwear. Her legs were spread and outstretched in front of her, her back straight. She lifted her arms up from her sides and clasped her hands above her head, her index fingers pointing upward. Slowly she bent at the hips and leaned her torso and arms forward, folding half way over her legs. She held herself there for about ten seconds and then returned to her upright position. She lowered her arms and brought her legs in, folding them and rested her wrists on her knees. She remained that way, completely still for quite a while and I took the opportunity to study her. She had strong, sexy arms, broad shoulders, and the curvature of her waist was incredibly sexy from the back.

I had to smile at myself when I recalled the events of last night and how I had enjoyed just exactly what those toned arms and strong fingers were capable of. She was the sexiest woman I had ever laid my eyes on, and she had been in my bed. I had kissed her lips, touched her flesh and tasted her arousal and brought her to a screaming climax. I was both self satisfied and in awe that she was here with me. Slowly she stood up and turned around and saw me watching her. She smiled and my heart melted.

She walked over to the bed and I scooted over on the bed to make room for her. She sat down beside me. "You're awfully cute when you're waking up," she told me, still smiling. "I hope you don't mind, but I found these shorts in your folded laundry in your bathroom."

Returning her smile, I shook my head. "I like you in my underwear."

She grinned and leaned down and kissed me. "Come on, sleepy head," she said with a tilt of her head towards the bathroom. "It's time to get up and shower. I'm hungry."

I slowly and reluctantly sat up on the bed as the covers slid off me. I was still naked from our love making that night. She looked down at my breasts, still grinning. I took hold of her hands and pulled her to me and kissed her again. As the kiss deepened, I felt her hands on my upper arms, and then on my breasts. Lifting up the hem of her camisole, I said in between kisses, "Come back to bed."

Without answering, she stripped off the satiny garment and we resumed our kiss. I laid back onto the bed and pulled her with me. Hovering over me, she planted kisses along my neck and then sucked on an earlobe. "I want to taste you," she whispered.

I was putty in her hands. "Are you sure?" I managed to squeak out. "You know you don't have to."

"I want to," were her final words as she kissed her way down my chest and soon, her lips were on one nipple, then the other. Slowly she descended, planting random kisses and licks all over my body until she was nestled comfortably between my legs. She started kissing along my inner thigh and with one last look up at me, she dove in and slid her tongue in between my folds. I closed my eyes in ecstasy and her tongue found my clit and stroked it with slow, broad licks. She applied gentle suction on my clit until my hips began to grind against her mouth. She reached up with one hand and massaged my breast. As my pace increased, she then pressed down on my pubic bone with one hand and slid a finger inside me with the other. I grabbed the bed sheets in my fists as my orgasm overtook me. "Oh, Alex!" I cried out as I fell over the edge. She continued to apply suction on my clit until I was spent and I placed a hand on her hand, my hips having ceased all motion.

I had to force my eyes open to see her looking up at me with a wicked grin. She kissed her way back up my body, lying her full length on top of me.

"Holy shit," I breathed out heavily. "Where the hell did you learn to do that?"

"Learn?" she asked. "That's all natural talent!"

"And you've never been with a woman before?" I asked, amazed at how easily she made me come.

"You're my first," she told me quietly.

"And you're my first sleepover," I told her and kissed her softly. A rumbling sound from my stomach interrupted us.

"Now will you get out of bed and into the shower?" she asked, grinning.

"Only if I get to return the favor," I grinned.

"I'm counting on it!" she said and sat up, pulling me with her.

Following her, I sat up but when she started to get off the bed, I pulled her back to me and started to kiss her. Slowly, I raised up onto my knees, and pulled her up onto her knees as well. I began to kiss along her jawline and then down her neck and along her collar bone while my hands pulled on her underwear and slid them off her hips. I whispered to her as I pressed my body against hers, "I want us to watch."

She gave me a questioning look and I gave a lift of my chin and raise of my eyebrows at the wall behind her. She turned her head to look and saw the full length mirror. She turned back to me and gave me the must lustful smile I had ever seen. Our mouths melded again and slowly she turned around in my arms as I continued to kiss and lick her neck and shoulder. I wrapped one arm around her waist and the other reached around to her front and fondled her breasts. She raised an arm and ran her hand into my hair while I nuzzled her neck and sucked on her earlobe.

My hand that was on her stomach began to descend down over her navel and lower abdomen and then cupped her mound. She placed her free hand on top of my hand and guided my middle finger into her folds and I heard a hitch in her breathing. I lifted my eyes to the mirror and her eyes caught mine. I slid a finger inside her and she bit down on her lower lip. With her hand still on top of mine, I stroked her and her hips slowly gyrated rhythmically into our hands. Her juices were practically running into my palm and so I added a second finger. I studied the image in the mirror and it was the sexiest thing I had ever imagined in all my fantasies about her. Her slim yet strong thighs, flat stomach, her firm round breasts, and her arms, those toned and tanned arms - yoga exercises had done her body good. And here she was, sharing her body, giving her body to me. The thought alone and the sensations of her flesh surrounding my finger were enough to stir up the arousal between my legs again. She turned her head and lifted her chin and I captured her mouth with my own. Our tongues slid against one another, tasting and playing. Moments later, her hand pressed down harder on my hand as my palm rubbed against her clit and her hips began to buck harder. The hand in my hair balled into a fist and she tore her lips away from mine and threw her head back against my chest and shoulder, her eyes closed. I watched in the mirror as she screamed out her release.

After the waves subsided, I stilled my hand and watched her come back to earth as her eyes slowly opened. I tore my eyes away from the mirror and looked over at her. She turned her head to look at me and smiled. I slid my fingers out and wrapped both arms around her. She wrapped her arms around mine. "I've never done that before," she told me breathlessly and the admission took my own breath away.

I kissed her. "You are so beautiful," I told her. "I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you."

"Like I told you last night," she said softly. "You have me."

Part 4

Alex

Riley had insisted I shower while she made breakfast after she heard my stomach roar of its hunger. She had also told me to wear whatever clothes I could find in her closet if I wanted to. So after showering, I pulled on a pair of blue jeans that fit perfectly, except for the length. She clearly had longer legs than I did, and I had to roll the legs up one fold. Then I found a black tank top and slipped it on and headed downstairs, hair still damp.

She was in the kitchen cutting up some fruit at the island, standing in her underwear and a t-shirt. I could smell freshly brewed coffee and noticed something was also cooking on the stove behind her. She looked up at me and grinned as her eyes roamed over my body. "Now I know why guys get turned on when their women wear their clothes," she said as I came up to her and placed my arms on her shoulders. She put her knife aside and wrapped her arms around my waist.

"Do you always cook in your underwear?" I teased her.

"Not at the restaurant," she answered pensively. "Health code violations."

I pressed her back against the counter and kissed her, our tongues moving with already familiar strokes. When we broke apart, I saw hesitance in her eyes.

I touched my fingers to her face, my thumb massaging away at her knitted brow. "Don't," I told her quietly.

"Don't what?" she asked, confused.

"You're second guessing what we did last night," I told her. "And this morning."

"What? How?" she asked, utterly confused and surprised as to how I could've known what she was thinking.

"The look you had on your face," I explained. "It was the same look you had back at the restaurant when you told me you couldn't get involved with me."

"I just..." she started but struggled momentarily. "It's just that up to a short while ago, you were straight."

"Do you regret making love to me?" I asked, wondering if she had thought we had made a mistake.

She shook my head.

"Riley, just because I've only slept with men before doesn't mean I'm not aware of what I'm doing here with you," I began. "I am fully cognizant of the fact that we are two women. Am I a lesbian? I don't know. Do I think it's wrong? Absolutely not. When I'm with you, I feel more alive than I have ever been. You made my body do things last night that I had never thought was possible. And so if that tells me anything, it's that being with you feels right."

"Grace is going to kill me. Very slowly and very painfully," she finally said with a sigh.

"Fuck Grace," I told her and she looked at me surprised. "She doesn't get to dictate who you or I sleep with."'

"She does if it's her sister I'm sleeping with," she pointed out.

"Well I guess it's a good thing we didn't do that much sleeping last night then," I said and then whispered conspiratorially in her ear, "I won't tell her if you don't."

"Chef, if you can manage to take your hands off her, you might wanna check your pan over there," Lenny's voice called out from the stairs.

"Shit," Riley muttered and turned to check the stove. She picked up one of the pans and with a quick flick of her wrist, flipped the contents of said pan. She repeated the action with the second pan.

Lenny came down from the stairs and headed towards us. "Good morning," she said to me with sly smile and I swore if I wasn't already blushing, I was now. She grabbed a mug from one of the cupboards and held it up to me, silently asking if I wanted some coffee. I nodded. She grabbed four mugs and set them out on the counter beside me and filled them with the steaming black liquid.

"We haven't officially met," a voice said from behind me and I spun around to see Lenny's girlfriend wearing an oversized button up shirt. She held out her hand. "I'm Gabriella."

"I'm Alex," I said, shaking her hand.

"So we heard," Lenny said with a grin and Riley choked on her coffee.

The realization hit me and I felt my cheeks burning. "Oh, God," I muttered, looking down at the floor.

"We heard that a few times too," Lenny continued, still grinning.

"Okay, who's ready for breakfast?" Riley asked and handed the plate of fruit to Lenny.

Six months later

I closed down the laptop and put it away in the night table drawer. I slid back under the covers and snuggled up against her.

"We're all set," I told her. "We've got the tickets, we've got a flat on a year long lease; insurance is all ready...you've got your passport right?"

She put down her magazine that she was reading. "For the hundredth time this week, yes, I have my passport," she answered. I looked at her for a hint of annoyance but found none. "When do we leave again? Sunday?"

I was about to lose my patience until I saw the tiniest of smirks on her lips. "Stop having a piss. You know full well we're leaving the week after Kristen's graduation."

She just smiled at me. "Thank you for taking care of all the arrangements."

"Well, you are leaving your life here behind for a year because I'm going to write Jim Miller's book," I told her. "It's the least I can do."

She tossed her magazine onto the floor and turned to me. "You think I'd give up the chance for us to finally live together and not have to sneak around?" she asked. We had managed to keep our relationship off of Grace's radar, although she had often questioned where I had been spending some of my nights. As far as she was concerned, I was seeing someone, a fellow writer from the newspaper, but I never offered her any information.

"I love you," I told her and kissed her.

"I love you too," she replied and pulled my body against hers.

It had taken me a while to answer Jim Miller's offer and after much discussion with Riley, being that I did most of the discussing while she patiently listened to me, I had realized that all the reasons to write the book outweighed my reasons to not write it. I hadn't been lying when I had said that I didn't want my writing to be compared to my mother's writing, but another reason why I was hesitant about taking on the project was because I had idolized James Miller from a young age and thought the world of him based on his acting skills and the characters he played. What I didn't want to happen was to get to know him and find that he wasn't the perfect man I had made him out to be in my mind. I was afraid of becoming disappointed by my idol. I admitted my fears to Riley who had simply smiled and reminded me that I had taken the time and effort to look at her as a whole person, her charm as well as her faults, and saw the whole and real person that many did not. And yet I was still with her, "warts and all" as she had put it. I decided to put away my preconceived notions of who I thought Jim Miller was, and who I expected him to be, and made up my mind to truly find out who he was, first hand.

I had called up shortly before Christmas to let him know that I would write his story, and so when I went back to London to spend the holidays with my parents and extended family, I spent a few days with him to get to know him. It was decided that the best way for me to get his story and write the book was to spend a few months with him to live his life, meet his family and old friends and do my research. Then I'd write the book with him and his editor. Realizing that I would be spending a good amount of time away from Riley made me hesitant. We were embarking on a new relationship, which for all the world knew, didn't exist. I wasn't sure if we could handle a long separation.

Then one day, she came to me, a grin on her face, telling me that they had hired someone to help out in the kitchen at Claire de Lune so that Scott would have enough helping hands, and she trusted Lenny to take care of the business. She was going to take a year off and join me in London. Rod had been encouraging her to expand the business and so she thought she'd check out the culinary scene in London and the surrounding area and see if there were any possibilities for her to expand overseas.

"Wait," I had said, the wheels having spun wildly in my head. "Are you implying that this could turn out to be a longer term trip?

"It's your home," she had said. That was the moment I fell in love with her.

Riley

"Where the hell is he?" Aunt Grace asked, no one in particular as she paced back and forth in the lobby of the auditorium.

"He'll be here," my dad tried to reassure her but only received a burning glare in response. He pulled out his phone and after a few moments, simply shook his head. "He's not answering his cell or home phone."

"I'll go find him," I said and seven heads turned to look my way. I lowered Claire to the ground from atop of my shoulders.

"You know where he is?" Aunt Grace asked, her eyes narrowing.

"I have a hunch," I answered, straightening up.

"I'm coming with you," Madison said, her voice saturated with anger.

"No, you stay here," I said, putting up a hand to stop her. "For Kris." She paused and then exhaled, nodding.

"I'll go with you," Alex offered and walked off out the door ahead of me, before anyone could protest or question her.

I followed her out to my car and we got in. I pulled out my phone and called Lenny who gave me the number I needed.

"How do you know where he is?" Alex questioned me.

"Remember the house party last night?" I asked. "I saw him there with a girl I knew."

"Knew as in..." Alex let the unfinished statement hang in the air.

"As in I had slept with her," I finished, knowing that's what she was fishing for. "It was once, a long time ago."

Dialing the number Lenny had given me, I didn't see Alex's face but I heard her laughing. I looked at her.

She took my free hand in hers. "Don't worry, I'm not jealous. I'm quite aware that most of the women we meet at the parties, you have slept with. But I also know that it's me you go home with." I gave her a grateful smile and a quick kiss on her cheek.

"Hello?" the Californian surfer voice answered through my phone.

"Hi, is this Jake?" I asked and received an affirmative answer. "I'm Riley, I'm a friend of Lenny's. I was at your party last night. Sal Dimaio was there too, with, um...Kira or Kara or something like that - a redhead. Do you remember?"

"Yeah, you're the chef," Jake answered. "With the hot babe girlfriend."

"Yeah, that's right. Is Sal still there?" I asked, starting the car.

"Oh yeah, dude's still upstairs with Kara," Jake answered and I could hear the smile in his voice. "And Kira."

"OK, Jake, listen to me, don't let him leave," I told the surfer dude. "I'm coming to pick him up."

"Cha, no problem," he told me and I sped off towards the beach house.

When we got to the house, we were greeted by Jake in his board shorts and a board under his arm. He informed us that Sal was indeed still upstairs in one of the bedrooms and left us on our own as he ran down towards the beach. We made our way through the house which surprisingly held no remnants of the party from last night, save for the empty beer bottles that were neatly stacked away in a corner. We went up the stairs and knocked on one door, When there was no answer, I took a quick peek to find the room empty. We went to another door and knocked and heard a muffled voice. "Uncle Sal?" I asked through the door and got a reply of "Next door!" in return.

I knocked on the third door and heard a female voice call out "We're busy." followed by some giggling.

I knocked again. "Uncle Sal, it's Riley!" After some muffled words and movement, I heard Uncle Sal call out for me to come in. I opened the door and he was lying in a bed with a girl on either side of him.

"Hey kiddo, what's up?" he asked me, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"Oh for God's sakes, Sal," Alex said in disgust from behind me.

I turned to Alex and told her I'd take care of it and suggested she wait out in the hall or downstairs. She left the room, saying she'd wait in the hall. I looked around the room and found his jeans and his shirt and picked them up off the floor.

"It's Kris' graduation today," I told him and threw his clothes at him. "Get dressed. We've got twenty minutes before the ceremony starts."

"Oh shit," he said, grabbing at his shirt and putting it on.

"Oh come on, why don't you just join us, Riley," the girl on the right said to me. She was the one from West Hollywood that I had slept with the night before I met Alex.

"I know she's got a great pussy, but we have to go, now," I told him, ignoring the redhead's request.

"You mind? I gotta put my jeans on," he told me and I held up my index finger.

"You've got one minute to get your pants on and get your ass out of this room," I told him and went out into the hall.

Alex who had been pacing, stopped when she saw me and came up to me. "Great pussy?" she asked with an arched eyebrow.

I shrugged meekly. "If it's any consolation, I don't even remember her name," I told her but only got a rolling of the eyes in response.

"You get him there on time, you will be a hero, though," she said reluctantly.

"If I get him there on time," I said to her. "He'd better not have crawled back into bed with them."

Then we heard a blood curdling scream from the bedroom. I ran into the room and saw Uncle Sal lying on the floor beside the bed. The redhead was crouched down beside him, checking for a pulse The other girl was still sitting on the bed, shaking.

"What happened?" I yelled out and knelt down beside Uncle Sal. I checked for any signs of breathing and for a pulse but didn't find any. "What happened?" I yelled at the redhead.

"He did a couple of lines of heroin and passed out," she answered, pointing to the night table beside the bed. There were a few lines of white powder on the surface. "Then he started convulsing."

"Fuck!" I shouted and lifted his chin and opened his mouth. "Alex! Call 9-1-1!"

Alex pulled out her phone and started dialing. I turned to the redhead who was still naked. "Hold his head like this. When I say go, you squeeze his nose and blow into his mouth!" When she nodded, I started on the chest compressions.

The hospital was kind enough to put us in a private room while we waited for news about Uncle Sal. Outside the hospital, the paparazzi were already camped out, waiting for the scoop on whether or not rock star, Sal Dimaio had died from an overdose. Although we were all silent, I knew everyone in the room was running through a multitude of emotions. We were scared of losing him yet at the same time angry, bitter and disappointed that he had done what he did. Sure he hadn't intended on overdosing, but he had made the conscious choice to party and snort a couple of lines of coke while his daughter was about to graduate.

After what felt like hours of waiting, the doctor finally appeared.

"He's stabilized," the doctor informed us. "He's lucky to be alive." After some discussion regarding rehab between the doctor, Aunt Grace and my dad, we were allowed to see him. Aunt Grace and Alex and the girls went to see him first and then my family. I held off and waited to see him after everyone else.

"You saved my life," he said to me as I sat down in the chair beside his bed.

"The paramedics saved you with Narcan," I told him.

"You kept me alive with CPR," he clarified. "Thank you."

"I'm not going to berate you 'cuz I'm sure Aunt Grace and my dad have already done that," I said and he nodded. "But you can thank me by getting clean once and for all."

He nodded. "Your dad's taking me tomorrow. I swear, Riley, this is it."

I nodded. My poor father. He'd seen too many people off to rehab, myself included. He'd taken Uncle Sal at least two times already in the past. If I didn't look so much like my father, I'd have sworn I was Uncle Sal's kid, what with the tendencies that we had in common.

"Congratulations with Alex," he told me and I gave him a questioning look. "She's a good catch."

"She's been good for me," I admitted.

"You know, Riley," he began, "I've fucked up with Grace and she really was the best thing to have ever happened to me. She gave me two beautiful daughters and I've...I've been a shitty father. Maddy already hates me. I'll be lucky if Kris doesn't hate me now too."

"You're alive," I told him, not wanting to hear anymore of his self-pitying. "You have a chance to fix things with them. The girls don't hate you. They're disappointed. But you can fix that. I know you know how."

"I know, I'm not feeling sorry for myself," he said. "I don't want you to go down the same road I did."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, irritated at his implication that I would cheat on Alex or relapse into my addiction.

"You and I," he replied, "are the same creatures vulnerable to temptation. We have two weaknesses, Riley - women and dope."

"I love Alex," I said defensively. "And I've been sober for almost seven years now."

"So don't fuck it up with her like I've fucked up with Grace," he said, this time, a pleading tone in his voice. "Don't become me, Riley."

"How about you focus on getting better and become the man I should be like and look up to," I said, giving his hand a squeeze. He nodded and I leaned down and kissed him on his forehead. I left his room and headed back to Aunt Grace's house with everyone else. When we got to the house, the girls went upstairs, visibly upset.

"Alex, why don't we go up with them?" my mom suggested. She and I both knew that the girls would need someone to talk to but that Grace wouldn't be the best candidate at the moment seeing as how she was too pissed off at Uncle Sal to not be biased. Alex agreed and went upstairs with my mom to comfort the girls.

Aunt Grace went into the kitchen, pulled out a bottle of red wine and poured herself a full glass. She poured a glass for my dad as well but I declined. "Selfish son of a bitch," she said half way through her wine glass already. The next thing I knew, she had finished her wine like it was grape juice and poured herself another glass. "How did you even know where to find him?" she asked me.

"There was a party there last night," I explained. "I was there and I had seen him there. So when he was a no show at the grad, I figured he was probably still at that house. I called and the guy confirmed he was still there."

"How many bimbos was he with?" she asked, finishing her second glass and started pouring herself a third glass. The only thing that prevented her from filling the glass this time was because the bottle was empty.

When I didn't answer her question, she quietly added, "A part of me wishes you hadn't been there to save him. He can't disappoint the girls anymore if he's not around."

"I think that's enough for tonight, don't you?" I asked her, nodding towards her wine glass.

"That's real rich," she seethed, her voice full of sarcasm. "Look who's telling me what's enough."

"Grace..." my dad spoke up, ready to defend me, but I held my hand up to stop him. I wasn't a little kid. I knew Grace was angry and upset. She needed to lash out and if it was against me, that was fine. Better me than in front of or at the girls.

"You and your Uncle Sal," she started her rampage. "You're the same. You love your women. You love your booze and you love your dope. Sure you're sober now and you're convinced you can be faithful, but how long until the temptation is too much to resist and you relapse? How long until you break Alex's heart by fucking some skank or OD'ing at some party?"

I was fine with her tirade up until she mentioned Alex. How had she known about Alex and me? I must've looked shocked because she continued, "You thought I didn't know? She's my sister and I've known you all your life. I knew you were sleeping with her that night you took her to Jim Miller's concert and she never came back home until the next day when you looked me in the eye and lied to me about fucking my sister."

"I wasn't fucking her," I said, trying to contain my temper.

She laughed sardonically. "Lemme guess, you weren't fucking her, you made love to her. Like I said, you and Uncle Sal are the same. You rationalize it in your heads anyway you can to justify your actions. You, Riley Carson, fucked my sister. And she fell in love with you, and I'm sure you're convinced you love her as well. But you're creatures of habit and you'll just go back to your old ways. Sal did it over and over and over again while we were married and even now. You love her, Riley? You really love her? Then spare her the heartache that's inevitable with falling in love with people like you and Sal."

"That's enough, Grace," my father's voice boomed. He took her glass of wine and poured it down the sink, along with his. "Get it together. Your girls need you to be there for them. God knows Sal's in no condition to be a parent to them until he's clean and sober."

Grace sat down dejectedly onto one of the bar stools. My dad made her a cup of coffee and she sat at the counter, nursing the hot mug sullenly.

"Riley," my dad said quietly to me and I knew what he was going to try to tell me that Grace was just angry. I knew she was angry, and she had every right to be. But she was also telling the truth. Sure I'd recovered from my addiction, or at least I thought I had. But what if a person really can't recover? What if the addiction is a personality trait, something you can't change about yourself? Uncle Sal tried, over and over again but would always eventually give into temptation, one way or another. What if they were both right? What if it was just a matter of time before I relapsed like he did?

"It's okay, dad," I told him, lost in my own thoughts.

Alex

'Where the hell is she?' I thought for probably the hundredth time in the past hour, standing at the airport. I knew I should have waited for her at the house and came to the airport together but she had insisted that I didn't wait as she had some stuff to pick up from the restaurant first. I had already checked in to pick seats for us and my suitcases were already checked in. There was only a few more minutes until they completed boarding of the plane. I pulled out my phone and tried calling her but there was no answer. I called the house and again, no answer. I called the restaurant and they told me that she had left already.

I saw a familiar figure running towards the gate, accompanied by a security guard. It was Lenny.

"What's happened, where is she?" I asked, panic rising within. Something had happened to her.

Lenny slowed her breathing and then said quietly, "She's not coming, Alex."

"What's wrong? Is she hurt?" I asked, ready to abandon the flight and go to her side.

"No," Lenny said and then repeated, "Riley's not coming with you. She's not going to London."

"Where is she? I want to talk to her," I demanded, a flurry of emotions coursing through me.

Lenny put her hands on my shoulders and looked straight into my eyes and I saw the regret in her eyes. "She's passed out drunk at the restaurant. She said that it was all too much for her to handle."

"Last boarding call for United Flight 934, direct service to London, Heathrow," the voice came over on the intercom.

"I’m sorry, Alex," Lenny said and I could hear the genuineness in her voice.

"No, I won't, I won't let her do this," I refused, the tears threatening to fall and I felt a pain in my chest.

She put her arms around me and whispered in my ear, "You need to go and forget about Riley." She released me and led me by the elbow to the ticket agent who took my ticket and scanned it. Lenny gave me a slight push towards the door. "Go."

"Goodbye, Alex," she said backing away from me and returned to the security guard who walked her back to the main terminal.

I blinked and the tears fell.

One year later

The book had launched successfully and to my surprise, only one critic tried to compare my writing to that of my mother's. She was quite proud of the book as well and had bought copies of it for all her friends, regardless of whether or not they were fans of Jim Miller. And despite my reservations about possibly being disappointed by my idol, I had found him to be an amazingly gifted artist with a generous heart who was always there for his friends and family when they needed him.

I had immersed myself into the book project and tried to forget about Riley. It was hard at first as a day didn't go by that I didn't think about her and how she had changed my life. I went through the stages of grief. The denial that it was over, that she had left me, telling myself that she had just missed the flight and would take the next available one; that one day she'd call me to pick her up from the airport. Then I was angry. Angry at her cowardice and sending Lenny to be her messenger. Angry that she made me fall in love with her only to break my heart. Then came the phone calls. I'd leave her messages on her phone, begging and pleading with her to come to me, and that whatever I had done to make her leave, I was sorry. By the fourth month, I was just depressed. I didn't want to work on the book. I didn't want to leave my bed. But Jim would come over every morning and drag my sorry ass up and out of the flat to join him for breakfast and onto the set of his latest movie. By about the fifth month, I had accepted that heartbreak was inevitable where Riley Carson was concerned. She had opened up a new door for me in terms of discovering my sexuality and for that, I was actually grateful. After eight months, I was finally able to hear her name without bursting into tears.

I had gone out for a run and had just returned to my flat to shower and change when the phone rang.

"Darling, how've you been?" my sister's voice greeted me.

"I'm doing a lot better these days," I answered her, trying to strip off my running clothes to hop into the shower. "I'm getting ready to go out so make it fast, otherwise I can call you tomorrow."

"Where are you headed to?" Grace asked.

"Jim's having a party to celebrate the new book," I said answered.

"I saw it, congratulations, darling, you've done well," she said.

"Thank you," I told her and there was an odd pause. There had been times in the past year when Grace would call just to say hi, but this conversation, or lack there of, did not feel like one of those times. "What's wrong, Grace?"

"Darling, there's something I need to tell you," she said and I could hear a hint of guilt in her voice. "It's about Riley."

I took a deep breath and sat down on the bed. I kept tight control on my emotions. "Go on."

"I know this is out of the blue and sudden but I need to confess something to you," she began. "I'm the reason why Riley didn't go with you to London."

"Riley didn't go to London because she didn't want a relationship," I said, hearing the bitterness which I thought I was over. "It was fun sneaking around when it was new, but the reality of settling into a relationship and living with someone was too much for her. She was trying to be someone she wasn't. I should have known better than to expect a leopard to change her spots."

"Alex, listen," Grace continued. "Riley didn't go to London because I told her that if she loved you, she'd spare you the pain of being with someone like her. I was angry at Sal for the hurt he had caused the girls and me and I projected my anger onto Riley. I told her she was just like Sal, and that one day, she'd relapse like him and hurt you."

"So you...you're the reason..." I said, trying to make heads or tails of what my sister was telling me. I couldn't help but get upset as the information sunk in. "I get that you're protective of me, but Grace, I'm not a kid,"

"Alex, darling, I am sorry and I'm not proud of what I did," she said and I could hear the sincerity in her voice. "In fact, I'm terribly ashamed because as much as I told myself that I was trying to protect you, a part me didn't want to believe that other people could change and find happiness when I couldn't. I am so sorry, Alex. I hope that you can forgive me one day."

As quickly as my anger towards my sister had rose, it faded upon hearing her sad admission. I took slow deep breaths and finally assured her that we'd eventually sort things out. But now I was struggling with feelings that I had put away and learned to suppress in the past year. What was I to do with this new found information? I looked at the clock and realized that I had just over half an hour to shower and get myself to the party. I tossed all thoughts aside for the moment and hopped into the shower.

Jim hadn't given me the name of the restaurant, just the address. The taxi pulled up to a red brick house nestled between other brick buildings. I tried to look for a name but the sign hanging over top of the doorway had just a simple encircled "A" on it. I paid the taxi driver and entered the restaurant. Inside, it was long and narrow, with a walk way down the middle from the front door all the way to the back which showcased an open kitchen. There were tables along the side walls and a bar on the left side, in the middle of the restaurant.

"Alex!" Jim's voice bellowed above the crowd as he made his way towards me. We hugged and I looked around, taking in the decor. It was simple, rustic and quite homey. By the front door was the reception desk beside which was a tall vase holding long elegant white calla lilies. Instantly I was reminded of my first date with Riley. She had brought me the same flowers. The conversation with Grace flooded my mind. I swallowed hard and blew out a breath, telling my head and heart to contain myself.

"Is this place new?" I asked, trying to change my flood of thoughts of a certain chef who would have loved the atmosphere in here. Jim took my hand and hooked my arm through his and casually led me through the crowds of people.

"Aye, a new chef in town," he answered. "An old friend of mine."

As we passed the bar and came within a few feet of the wooden prep table in front of the open kitchen, I noticed the big shiny letters mounted on the red brick wall beside it. They spelled, "Alexandra".

I stopped and pulled on Jim's arm that was locked with mine and tilted my head to the letters and arched an eyebrow. "London's newest vegetarian restaurant," he leaned in and told me. "She loves you. She never stopped."

He pulled back and I saw a figure with a familiar head of blond hair at the wooden table, wiping down a couple of plates that a server then picked up and walked around the room, offering up its contents to the guests. She looked over at us and stopped in her tracks. Slowly, she wiped her hands on a dish towel, tucked it into her apron and walked over to us. Every feeling and emotion that I had bottled up and stashed away since I had arrived in London broke through and came to surface and I felt my heart jump in my chest.

When she came up to us, Jim silently slipped away. With an arched left eyebrow and a crooked smile that brought out the tiniest hint of laugh lines at one corner of her mouth, a look which had melted my heart so many times before, she said, "Hi, I'm Riley."