“But you said he was the best, right?” Jenny probed. “The best sex you’d ever had?”
Rina nodded. “The first sex, and the best.”
“Wow.” Ann looked impressed. “That’s saying a lot. What made him the best? Those fingers?”
“Partly. And the way we connected, on all levels.”
“You so have to see him,” Suzanne said firmly.
“I don’t know.” Rina sat back as their waitress came with a fresh bottle of Greek red wine and filled all their glasses. Then she said briskly, “Enough about me. I know what I need to do. Talk to Al again, see how it goes, concentrate on my feelings. So, what’s happening with everyone else? Ann, sounds like you and Adonis are doing great.”
Ann, who had classic features and a totally classy presence, grinned like a teenager who was crushing over the boy of her dreams. “Yes. He’s teaching me more about tantric sex, and on Sunday we went kayaking again and I’m actually getting it. Then we did dinner with his family, and I swear, they’re addictive. If I didn’t l-like Adonis for himself, I’d want him for his family.”
“She almost said the L word,” Jenny pointed out.
“It’s too soon,” Ann protested, but her cheeks were pink. She broke off as their waitress brought the stuffed vine leaves and roasted lamb, and they all helped themselves. Then she lifted her head. “I keep thinking, if I hadn’t met Adonis, I might have actually ended up with David.” She wrinkled her nose. “Think of the life I’d have had. I’d have missed so much.”
“How’s your mom doing with all this?” Rina asked. Ann’s mother had raised Ann alone and taught her that career achievement was the only important thing in life. Women’s lib taken to a bizarre extreme, as far as Rina was concerned.
Ann’s lips twisted in a half smile, half grimace. “She’s disappointed. She keeps trying to persuade me to see the error of my ways. It’s rough, because I’ve always been so oriented to wanting her approval.”
“Stick to your guns,” Jenny said firmly. “Or, in this case, your guy.”
Rina, whose own mom—now deceased—had been pretty damned controlling, nodded in agreement.
“Oh, I intend to,” Ann said. “My life’s so much happier, and healthier, since I met Adonis. More exercise and sleep, regular meals—”
“Regular sex,” Jen broke in with a wink, and Suzanne added, “And massage on demand. I could sure go for that.”
Rina forked up some of the Greek salad that came with the lamb. “All the same, I bet your mom’s worried about you. She loved and trusted a man, and he betrayed her. Now she’s probably afraid the same thing will happen to you.”
Moms were protective. Rina knew that. Her own mom had wanted so much for her. Too much. To be slim, popular, a great musician, a good Jew. They’d rubbed each other the wrong way a lot of the time, and Rina had been more of a daddy’s girl. But now that both her parents were gone and Rina was older, she could see how much they’d both loved her and wanted the best for her. Her mom, like Ann’s, had just been more aggressive about it.
Ann’s face had softened. “Thanks, Rina. It would be so nice if she’d accept—well, at least try to understand—what I’m doing.”
And that would be especially tough, because Ann’s mom was in Toronto and lived for her work. Phone calls with her daughter were rare, visits even more so. “I’m sure she will,” Rina said hopefully. “Maybe not right away, but in the long run. It might help if she met Adonis.”
“Speaking of which,” Jenny said, “it’s getting so old, no one having met anyone else’s man. I mean, when I think of Suze’s Jaxon, all I see is Denzel Washington. And Ann, my picture of Adonis is a Greek god statue who’s much better endowed.”
“Much, much better.” Ann’s eyes twinkled.
“And we’ve all seen Scott, a whole lot of Scott,” Rina teased, “when he did that sexy dance number at the firefighter calendar competition, but we’ve never met him.”
Suzanne turned to Rina. “And then there’s Al. Maybe.”
Rina groaned. “Perhaps I am expecting too much. No real live man could measure up to my romantic dreams. So he got a little pushy; he was upset. And yeah, we don’t have sparks, but maybe that’s because we’re so compatible. Compatible’s a good thing.”
“You need to see Giancarlo,” Ann said quietly. “You’ll never be sure if Al’s right for you until you resolve the past.”
“I don’t think I have the guts.”
Jen groaned and Ann waved a hand to hush her, then said briskly, “What’s the worst-case scenario? One, he doesn’t remember you. Two, he remembers but doesn’t want to see you. Three, he sees you and, as you suggested, the two of you bore each other to tears. The important thing is, you’ll be able to get him out of your mind. And your dreams.”
“And focus on whether Al’s The One,” Suzanne agreed.
“On the other hand,” Jen grinned wickedly, “you might have another triple-O.”
Driving home to her bungalow in North Van, Rina thought back to how she’d left things with Al on Saturday night. After they’d kissed, she’d said she’d give him a call. He’d asked, “When?” and she’d answered, “I’m not sure.”
Had he actually muttered, “Let me know when you come to your senses”? She didn’t trust her memory. At that point, she’d been too distraught.
And tonight she’d hoped that somehow, magically, the girls would help her reach a “yes or no” decision.
Well, at least they’d helped her figure out a starting point. Talk to Al again. And maybe a second one: contact Giancarlo. Could she?
She drove up the lane beside her house and parked in the old-fashioned one-car garage. Outside, the garden smelled of autumn. Leaves were turning color and starting to fall. It was probably time to dig up bulbs or prune shrubs. She’d have to ask Mrs. Zabriski, the neighborhood’s garden expert, once the VSO audition was over.
Rina gave a sigh of relief as she walked up the back steps and into the welcoming embrace of her cozy home. She was so happy to have a permanent home of her own that she’d bought, decorated and loved.
“Mmrp?” Sabine prowled into the kitchen and Rina squatted down to say hello. Three years ago she’d adopted the shorthaired calico as a kitten from an animal rescue society.
Rina sank her short-nailed musician’s fingers into the soft white fur of the cat’s breast. Scratching and stroking, she worked her way up to Sabine’s chin and ears. The cat arched into her hands, purring happily.
“The girls say I need to contact Giancarlo,” Rina said.
Sabine tilted her head, slitting her lovely green-gold eyes.
“The idea scares the shit out of me,” Rina confessed. “But I think they’re right.” She did need to resolve her past before she could decide about the future.
Though she’d dated a few guys, Giancarlo had been the only one she’d ever had strong feelings for. That summer she was seventeen, they’d felt like soul mates. The skinny small-town Italian boy, the fat Jewish girl who called no place home. What they’d had in common was big noses, big dreams and amazing sex. They’d both had the sense to realize it was a summer thing, though. When they’d talked about keeping in touch, they’d agreed it was pointless.
And she’d never regretted that. Not seriously. But it was time to stop fixating on that summer thing and get on with her life.
She straightened, then lifted Sabine into her arms and headed toward the music room. It occupied what