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I stood and picked up my plate.
“Leave it,” he said. “I’ll clean up while you get dressed.”
I put the plate down and retreated toward the bedroom.
“Shorts,” he called after me.
Once the door closed behind me, I sent another text to Ramona.
ME: Out with Dennis don’t know when I’ll be back
She’d want all the details, and I didn’t have time for the half hour Ramona would hold me on the phone if I called. I was picking out a top when my phone chirped with her reply.
RAMONA: I warned you about having too much fun
I couldn’t decide on the right response to that, so I didn’t respond at all.
Chapter 23
Jennifer
I slidinto the seat of his sleek car. “Where are we going?”
He gave the same answer as the last four times I’d asked. “A place I like to go to decompress. I think you’ll like it.”
The Jaguar had the smell and look of luxury with supple leather on the seats, and even the dash. The sound when we started out was not obnoxiously loud, but had the throaty exhaust melody of a powerful motor.
I gazed out the window, watching LA go by as we made good progress in the light weekend traffic.
Eventually he turned west on Venice Boulevard, and our destination became clearer. In three miles on this course, we would run out of roadway and be facing the Pacific Ocean.
I’d been wondering, but he hadn’t offered any more information about his brother, so I asked. “What happened with Josh last night?”
“All we were told is that he had a single-car accident and rolled the vehicle.”
“Was he drunk, you think?”
“Dad asked the same thing. Point zero two—not even close to the limit. It’s all strange. He’s not the type to drive too fast and lose control. We’ll know more later when we get the accident report.”
“But you said he’ll be okay, right?”
“I called this morning, and the news is better. He’ll be plenty sore, and he’s under observation because of the head wound and the fact that he lost consciousness, but I think so. They just have a protocol to follow.”
He turned left onto Speedway, the last road paralleling the beach, and in a few blocks, he stopped. A push of the opener button, and a garage door rolled up.
The houses in this area were narrow. We climbed the stairs to the main living area above.
The home was very open, with a parquet wood floor and a full-width window on the beach end of the house.
He ushered me through a sliding glass door to the patio, which boasted a marvelous view of the wide sand of Venice Beach.
“What would you like to drink?” he asked.
“Soda is fine, or just water.”
“In life you have to make choices, so which is it?”
“Water, then.”
