She descended the steps and approached him, and he marveled at how she seemed to glide, her grace natural and unconscious. When she was near, he moved to her and enveloped her in his arms, his hug anything but platonic. He moved to kiss her and she returned it with unmistakable longing. His spirits soared; and then the moment was over and she was pulling away.
“How was the flight?” Drake asked.
“Nice. The massage was a little amateur, but the caviar and cocaine were top shelf.”
“Excellent. Glad to hear the foundation got its money’s worth.”
“Seriously, though, it was awesome. I could get used to that.”
The ground crewman arrived with a single travel bag and carried it to Drake’s FJ. Allie eyed the vehicle and smiled. “That is so you.”
“What do you mean, me? Maybe I have a Lambo at home or something.”
“Not hardly. No, this is exactly what I pictured you driving.”
“You know me too well.”
“I hear that happens if someone saves your life.”
They were silent for an uncomfortable moment, and Drake opened the cargo door. The crewman set her bag inside and Drake closed it and escorted her to the passenger side.
“Such a gentleman. You must be a hit with the locals,” she teased.
“I usually trick them into the back and then bind and gag them.”
“That’s right. We are in California, aren’t we? Isn’t that the national pastime around here?”
“When we’re not busy with our cults or our macrobiotic juicing.”
“Good to know.” She studied him. “You look good. Sunburned, but I suppose that goes with the territory.”
“I surf every morning.”
She smiled. “No clichés here, dude.”
“I like it. It’s… peaceful. Kind of spiritual.”
“Well, it definitely agrees with you.”
They strapped in, and Drake negotiated the roads to Pacific Coast Highway. Traffic was headed in the opposite direction as high-net-worth commuters made their way from Malibu to the city, and they were able to make decent time. Drake pointed out landmarks as he drove, and they arrived at his house within forty minutes. Allie’s response to the shabby exterior was only slightly better than Spencer’s, but she warmed up when she saw the ocean stretching to Catalina and the Channel Islands.
“This is gorgeous, Drake.”
“I like it. It’s not like I haven’t invited you out a million times,” he said, and immediately regretted how it sounded. “I mean, you’re always welcome. I’ve been dying to show it to you.”
“Wow. Almost makes you want to give up cows and cactus,” she said. “So you just run out to the surf there every day? How idyllic is that?”
“It’s pretty cool,” Drake said, setting her bag down by the dining table. Allie slid the door open and Drake moved to the gap. “Even with all the houses crammed together, it still feels kind of empty, you know? At least as long as you’re looking out to sea.”
“If I lived here, I’d never leave. I’d have food brought in.”
Kyra’s voice rang out from next door. “Drake? You there? Are you ready for that margarita?”
Allie’s pupils dilated and then shrank to pinpoints as Drake blushed. “Um, no, Kyra. I have company. Sorry.”
Drake began to close the door and Allie stopped him. She pushed past him and out onto his deck. Kyra was standing by a lounge chair, her hot pink thong bikini glowing against her copper skin.
“Oh. Hi,” she said. “I’m Kyra.”
Allie smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Nice to meet you. Allie.”
“Hi, Allie.” Kyra hesitated, out of words. “You guys are welcome to come by for a drink if you want.”
Allie shot Drake a dark look and then met Kyra’s with a grin. “Thanks, but it’s a little early for me. Maybe Drake would like to get a head start?”
“No, I’m good,” Drake stammered, flustered.
“Okay. Well, I’ll just be lying out here if you change your mind.” Kyra looked to Drake. “I missed you in the water today.”
“Airport run.”
“Right. Just holler if you want to come over.”
“Okay,” Allie said. “Wear sunscreen.”
Kyra became animated. “Oh, I totally always do. Sunburns look gross on camera.”
“Wouldn’t want that.”
Drake pulled the door shut and shrugged. “She’s sweet.”
“That’s one word. Succulent might be another. And here I was worried about you becoming a hermit.”
“Allie, it’s nothing like that.”
“Hey, it’s none of my business,” she said, walking to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and frowned. “Juice, a package of English muffins, and some butter? And enough soda to last a month. You ever eat real food?”
“Allie, she’s just the neighbor. That’s it.”
Allie mimicked Kyra’s surfer-girl tone. “Want to come over for a margarita and wrassle me?”
“She’s an actress. They’re dramatic.”
“I’m not even going to ask what kind of movies.”
“Her dad’s some mogul in the business. She’s harmless and bored out here all by herself.”
“A pair of strong arms sounds like it might do the trick.”
“Allie…”
“What time is the CIA goon going to be here?”
Drake looked at his watch, but was cut off before he could tell her by the sound of Spencer’s car revving into the driveway. Allie looked to the door. “What’s that?”
“Spencer, I presume. He likes to make an entrance.” Drake had told her about his joining them on their adventure on the ride from the airport.
She threw open the door just as Spencer killed the motor and stepped from the car. He grinned and she returned his smile as he moved to her. Their hug seemed to last longer than the one she’d given Drake, he thought, and then dismissed the unexpected hurt he felt. Just as she was imagining things with Kyra, so too was he spinning scenarios that weren’t accurate. Although it certainly looked more than brotherly to Drake.
Spencer held her at arm’s length and nodded. “Wealth and a life of leisure agree with you, young lady.”
“You don’t look too shabby yourself, Spencer. What’s with the pimpmobile?”
“I knew you’d love it. I built it on a VW chassis. A kit. I wanted a project. Idle hands and all.”
“Drake was telling me about your trials and tribulations.”
“Yeah, I dug that hole. Now I’m trying to climb out of it.”
“Kind of fun to have everyone back together, though, huh? Like the old days.”
Drake laughed, but to his ear it sounded false. “That was a whole three months ago.”
Spencer smiled. “Is that all? And here little Allie is all growed up.”
“It’s the hormones. And the chain smoking,” she quipped.
“You’re a rebel,” Spencer agreed, and looked at Drake. “Am I late?”
“Don’t you own a watch?” Drake asked.
“Nothing that I could wear to Thailand.”
“I think I’ve got an extra Casio,” Drake said. “The most popular watch with terrorists, the guy at the store said — the Casio F91-W. How could I resist a sales pitch like that?”
“As long as it tells the time, I’m easy.”
They settled in on Drake’s couch and chair and talked about old times. Eventually the discussion shifted to Allie.
“So what did you do with all your loot?” Spencer asked. Drake had warned Allie about Spencer’s loan request, so she was prepared for his overture.
“Oh, it’s all in a savings account.”
“What? Are you kidding me? What does it pay, like.0001 percent per year?” Spencer asked incredulously.
“Well, I don’t really have time to learn the ins and outs of investing right now, and I’ve got my hands full with my dad’s stuff, so I’ll just let it sit until I find something to do with it.”