“So, have you ever heard anything about California Girl?”
Ben’s head snapped up at Levi’s casually posed question. “What?”
Levi stabbed a forkful of his omelet. “You heard me. That chick you were so hung up on back in New Mexico – the one you’d get tears in your eyes over when you were staring at the stars every night. Did you ever think about looking her up again?”
Ben glared at his friend and former co-worker. “I did not get tears in my eyes, you ass.”
“Oh, I beg to differ, my friend,” declared Levi. “But, hey, whatever you say, man. Do you ever think about her, though, ever get tempted to go back to Cali and look her up?”
“I think about her all the time,” admitted Ben. “And I don’t have to go all the way to California to see her because she’s here in New York on a regular basis.”
Levi gaped at him in astonishment. “You’ve seen her? California Girl? So why the hell are you still with Elle? My God, man, you were crazy about that girl. And I don’t care what you say, Ben – you did cry over her at least a few times.”
“Maybe I did.” Ben shrugged. “And the reason I’m not with her right now is because she’s seriously pissed off at me. And she is not a woman who believes in forgiving and forgetting.”
“So you’ve at least seen her? Talked to her?”
One side of Ben’s mouth quirked up in a wry smile. “Frequently. As it turns out, she’d been working at National Geographic Travel for four years when I came on board. She’s, uh, one of my crew members now.”
Levi shook his mop of unruly dark brown curls in disbelief. “WTF, man? So, this has been going on for – what – a little over a year now, and you never thought to tell me?”
Ben paused as the waitress refilled their coffee cups. “It’s not exactly the sort of thing you can just mention in an occasional email or text, Levi. You and I haven’t exactly kept in close contact since I took this new job. My fault, I admit it. Hell, most days I barely have time to come up for air.”
Levi made a sound of disgust. “You need to give up this job, Ben. You’re no more suited to sitting behind a desk and managing a bunch of people than I am. You belong out in the trenches like you used to be, living the stories instead of editing them.” He waved a hand to indicate Ben’s open-necked white shirt and gray wool trousers. “And this isn’t like you either, man. You look like a Banana Republic ad.”
Levi himself was wearing his typical garb of baggy cargo pants, thermal T-shirt, and Converse high-tops. He was tanned from a recent assignment in South Africa, and his mop of curls was as unmanageable as ever.
Ben smiled. “California Girl didn’t approve of my new wardrobe, either. Or the new job. But my contract with the magazine is for two years, and I’m committed to staying at least that long. After that – who knows.”
“After that, man, you need to trade in a bunch of things. Your job, for one. The wardrobe for another. And, well, maybe your woman for a third.”
Ben’s smile faded abruptly. “The first two, maybe. I know for sure I don’t want to keep doing this job forever. As for the third – well, that part isn’t so easy. I’m not going to be a cold-hearted SOB and quote unquote “trade” my girlfriend in for a different model. Besides, there’s only one other woman in the world I’d ever want, and right now she sort of hates my guts so it’s a moot point.”
The two friends finished up their meal since Levi needed to be at his conference in less than an hour. Levi paid the bill as promised, but as Ben stood up to leave with him, his phone buzzed with an incoming call. Levi gave him a farewell fist bump and dashed off as Ben fielded the call from a crew member currently on assignment in Thailand.
He finished up the call quickly, and had just shrugged into his navy wool overcoat when he glanced up and spied a nearby table of women – one of whom was his aforementioned California Girl.
Lauren wasn’t due back in the office until Monday, but she had evidently arrived in New York a few days ahead of schedule. She was warmly dressed for the winter weather he knew she despised – skinny black jeans, a hip-length burgundy sweater with a cashmere scarf draped artfully around her neck, and high heeled black ankle boots. Her hair was drawn back into its customary ponytail, and as usual she wore neither makeup nor jewelry.
Unlike the woman who sat next to her – the one Ben assumed was the twin sister, given her startling resemblance to Lauren. Except that Julia was dressed to kill in a figure hugging dress of fine cream wool that emphasized the same lush curves her sister had been blessed with. Julia’s tawny curls were long and flowed loosely over her back and shoulders, while her beautiful face was perfectly made up.
Ben quickly took in the four other women at the table – a tall, dark haired, and rather morose woman who appeared to be the same age as the twins; an older, well groomed woman with short, frosted blonde hair; and two slightly younger women, perhaps in their late forties or early fifties, who also bore a startling resemblance to each other. And just like Lauren and Julia, the two older women’s styles of dress were quite different. One wore her shoulder-length hair – that was a slightly darker shade than Lauren’s – loose, and was wearing a teal blue silk tunic over fitted black trousers; the other’s hair was blonder and cut into a stylish bob, and her tailored dark blue shirtdress looked both professional and pricey.
Julia glanced up at that particular moment and caught his gaze, and the look on her face was one of both interest and bewilderment. Her mouth began to turn upwards at the corners, at least until Lauren said something to call her attention away.
In the very next moment, Lauren was looking directly at him, and he could swear he felt shards of ice emanating from the ferocious scowl she directed his way. He flinched involuntarily, but nonetheless began to walk over to the table, ignoring the murderous glare she gave him.
Ben was uncomfortably aware that five sets of female eyes were glancing curiously between him and Lauren. She had a death grip on her coffee cup, and he only hoped she didn’t give in to any impulse to fling the whole thing in his face. And even though common sense was prompting him to walk away, a more impulsive side of him that rarely surfaced couldn’t resist antagonizing her just a bit.
“Lauren,” he drawled in a very deliberate tone. “This is something of a surprise. We weren’t expecting you here until Monday.”
Lauren tried unsuccessfully to mask the dark look on her face as she gave a careless shrug. “Free country last time I checked. I didn’t realize I needed to check in with you whenever I come to New York. And I’m obviously not here a few days early because of work.”
Ben almost shivered at the iciness of her words, and a rather uncomfortable silence fell over the table as the two of them continued to face off as though they were adversaries instead of former lovers.
It was the woman in the teal silk tunic who broke the ice as she smiled warmly at Ben, extending her slim hand to him. “I’m Lauren’s mother, Natalie Benoit. I take it you and Lauren work together at the magazine?”
Ben gave what he hoped was a dazzling smile to Lauren’s mother and shook her hand. “A pleasure, Ms. Benoit. I confess to knowing very little about art, but I’m a great admirer of the few pieces of yours I’ve been fortunate enough to view. And since Lauren seems reluctant to introduce us, I’ll do the honors. I’m Ben Rafferty, Lauren’s – er, boss.” He had quite intentionally not mentioned that the one time he had seen her artwork had been at her very own home in Big Sur.