“Everyone thinks they do.”
“But we really do. His fucking housecleaner knows more about his stuff and what he has than he does. He has so much crap he wouldn’t miss a few things disappearing.”
“I hate it when you sound stupid,” I said. “You think you can just help yourself? Is that what you’re saying?”
Levi shrugged, took a long pull off the bottle, and slipped out of his red leather cowboy boots, setting them inside our apartment doorway. He pulled off his T-shirt. He was still that sleek boy, a beauty. His curly brown hair was streaked blond and he had just the right amount of growth on his face. His teeth were white-white and his bare feet were perfect. He could be a model, that’s how handsome he was. Feet and teeth, I always say, have got to be superior. His physique made me overlook the fact that he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the room.
“Shepard needs a nanny for his kids, pretty much right away,” Levi said. “Someone smart enough to tutor. He’s running an ad but says he can’t find the right person.”
“I’m a teacher,” I reminded him, “not a nanny.”
“But you could be a nanny… for a time. Then we’d both be working there.”
“You think he’d go for a fricken handyman and his older girlfriend both working for him? Please.”
“Don’t call me a handyman,” he snapped.
“That’s what you are, babe.”
He looked hurt. “I aspire to more.”
“Sure you do,” I said. “I just don’t like where you’re headed with this.” I stroked his chest and tickled his nipples, which always put him in a good mood.
“Shepard would like you, Mimi. I told him about you. He seems lonely. I mean, who wouldn’t be, your wife up and dies and leaves you with little kids? But once he sees a pretty young thing like you, his day’s suddenly gonna seem a lot brighter. Don’t you want to brighten up a widower’s day?”
“I’m not that young.”
“You’re the sexiest thing going,” he said, running his fingers along my collarbone. “We could both be working there.”
“And then?”
“Who knows? But you deserve better’n this,” he said, his hands describing an arc about him, his voice going low. “You think all the rich fucks in this town work for what they have? A lot of them got old money. Inheritances. Bank accounts handed down. Or they have great gigs, businesses that haul ass. We weren’t lucky that way. Shit, Shepard has an entire goddamn library! He’s old, Mimi, but he has money.”
“Levi, you’re scaring me.”
“Don’t be scared, baby. How about I just introduce you to him?” He put his hands on my shoulders and looked down at me with his seawater eyes. “C’mon, Mimi. As long as you don’t like him that way, and why would you?—he’s not me—it could be fun.”
“Ripping off your employer… fun, huh?”
He shrugged. “Like I said, it’d be better’n this.”
We turned our attention back to the pool and that pink inner tube bobbing about when a pizza boy came whistling into the courtyard, looking like a waiter holding a tray with that flat box poised on his fingers.
“We’d need a plan,” I said, as the pizza boy looked up, trilled the fingers of his other hand like we were in some Hollywood musical, and headed for the cement stairway.
“Mims, I’m all about planning,” Levi replied, pulling a twenty from his pocket.
The stinking economy, even here in glorious Orange County, had pushed substitute teaching gigs further and further apart, so the next day, around lunchtime, I was sitting on the balcony smoking a hand-rolled and scanning the classifieds. A cherry pie cooled on the counter. I had to do something fast to rescue my financial situation. Levi’s truck skidded in. He threw a veggie bologna sandwich together—white bread from Trader Joe’s, Dijon mustard, and four slices of fake lunchmeat—and said he was taking me with him to Shepard’s house, ten minutes away.
I climbed into his truck, a major gas hog, which you just about needed a ladder to get into. As we passed Latinas with long black braids that touched their waists who pushed strollers, and homeless guys wearing tattered backpacks, he said, “Um, by the way, Shepard thinks you’re my older sister, so just play it cool.”
“Excuse me?”
“I decided he wouldn’t like the idea of you being my girlfriend.”
“Sometimes you fucking make me wonder.”
He nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. “I just thought of it. Brilliant, huh?”
“Yeah, right. Incredible genius you got goin’ in that head of yours.”
But as we crossed over Newport Boulevard, leaving the not-so-good side of town for the lush, moneyed side where tall eucalyptus swayed in the faint ocean breeze, Costa Misery segued to Piece of Heaven, California, with its cute cottages, palm trees, rosebushes, magenta bougainvillea, and Jaguars, BMWs, and hybrids.
We pulled into his boss’s driveway. A tall husky guy in khakis and a polo shirt, with short graying hair, futzed in the garage. He was a bit thick in the middle and wore conservative beige shoes.
“You owe me big time,” I said, pushing open the door as Mr. Orange County Republican approached us.
“That a promise?” he responded, as I jumped from the cab.
The guy had probably been a hottie once and was handsome in an almost-fifty way, but he was so not my type. He held out his hand. “You must be Levi’s sister,” he said, giving me a warm handshake. “He didn’t tell me you were so pretty.”
“He’s been forgetting to take his ginkgo biloba,” I countered, playing it off, but I was charmed. And it takes a lot to charm me.
Levi laughed as if I were the funniest older sister in the entire universe.
“You two get acquainted,” said Levi. “The back fence is calling me.”
Shepard gave him the thumbs-up sign and said, “Shall we go inside?” His eyes were friendly as he gestured me in and hit the electric garage door button. “The kids are at school, but I’ll show you around so you can see where you’d be spending your days.”
I forced a smile, tried to look interested.
“School’s out tomorrow,” he said. “I need someone who can be a nanny and a teacher. Only occasional sleepovers, when I’m out of town.” He had a gap between his front teeth, which were white and even. I had a boyfriend once with a gap I loved to tongue.
“Your brother said you’re a teacher.”
Brother? Then I remembered.
“I was, back east,” I said. “Taught drama and English. I’ve been substitute teaching since I moved here. Not a lot of work these days for teachers without seniority.”
“That’s too bad,” he said, touching my shoulder to direct me into the living room. He must have noticed how my gaze fell on the baby grand because he said, “You play?”
“Used to.”
“Like riding a bicycle, don’t you think? You’re welcome to…” He nodded toward it.
“Ah, no, maybe another time.” Being able to play piano impressed people, but it didn’t impress me. You could learn anything if you wanted to.
“Your brother said you like to bake.”
“I’m obsessed with making pies.” When we have extra money, I almost added.
“You’re welcome to bake here, anytime. I can’t remember the last time a pie came out of that oven. Just give me a list; I’ll buy you what you need.”
If it were possible to fall in love with a house, I was falling—hard—especially for the kitchen. With that kitchen, I could bake a million pies and never grow bored.
“Like something? Coffee? A soda?” he asked, sticking a glass into the opening of the fridge’s front panel. He pushed a button. Ice dropped and chinked into the glass.