Francesca’s Catering was famous for both its catering and its discretion. The storefront was tucked away in a high-end outdoor shopping center about fifteen minutes’ drive from Carmel. When Mila arrived, Crystal Lopez was standing in front of Francesca’s window, speaking on the phone. Mila knew Crystal, as she’d been in Erin’s year in high school and had been friends with Damien, two years older, for years. Back in high school, Crystal had been involved in organizing everything from school concerts to prom, so it was no surprise when she turned those skills into a living. Now, at thirty, she ran a successful event-planning business.
Crystal waved a greeting to Mila while giving someone instructions in Spanish. She gestured with her free hand to make a point, and the gold bracelets on her wrist flashed in the sunshine, as did the gold hoops in her ears. Crystal was gorgeous. There was no other word for it. She had long dark hair, which she wore in a ponytail today, huge dark eyes that could flash from tragedy to comedy in seconds, a full-lipped, sensuous mouth, and a lithe dancer’s body. She wore loose black trousers and a fuchsia blouse. She ended the call and came forward. “Mila, hi, it’s been ages.”
They kissed cheeks, and Crystal said, “I hope you’re hungry. We have lots of food to sample.”
“I brought my appetite,” Mila assured her.
Tessa turned up next, and after the quickest greeting, Crystal shepherded them into the storefront, scanning behind them as she did so. Mila knew she was looking for any paparazzi who might have followed Tessa.
They didn’t even speak to the woman at the front desk, but walked through a door that Crystal opened. They were met by a stylish older woman all in black. “Crystal, it’s lovely to see you again.” She held out her hands and kissed Crystal on both cheeks.
This was Francesca, the famous chef who’d decided to move into catering. Mila knew Crystal had pulled strings and called in favors to get Francesca to take on a rush job, but nothing in Francesca’s manner suggested she was anything but delighted to cook for them.
She showed them to a private room set up like a dining room and said Sergio would look after them.
When they were seated, each with a clipboard, pen, and menus of the items they’d be sampling, Mila noticed the two empty places at the table. “Where are Mom and Erin? Running late?”
Tessa shook her head. “Betsy had a crisis with a student, and Erin had a big story come in. She said she couldn’t get away.”
Mila scoffed. “A big story at the Sea Shell? Maybe the Dog of the Week got fleas.”
Tessa smiled briefly, but Mila could tell she wasn’t used to the teasing that went on among the Davenports.
“I’ve lined up a series of menus for you to try,” Crystal said, gesturing to the clipboards. “After you and I talked, Tessa, I worked with Francesca to come up with a casually elegant menu suitable for a small garden wedding.”
Obviously, Tessa was the one who would be making all the final choices, but she wanted more opinions. She probably felt a little out of her comfort zone here, but presumably among the three of them, they could find a menu that would work. Mila vowed to be as useful as possible. She didn’t have a very busy day today, and she wasn’t one to turn down delicious free food, though maybe she was slightly disappointed that she hadn’t been able to spend the day with Hersch. She could just imagine how they would have spent it too.
As she looked over the three menus that included a cocktail hour, three courses, dessert, and a late-night snack, she found herself impressed. Everything sounded totally yummy and luxurious. Among the many offerings were mini crab cakes with avocado aioli, creamy lobster bisque, and filet mignon. She read the descriptions, salivating, and noted with pleasure how everything was farm-to-table.
“What do you think?” Crystal asked, and Mila realized she’d been waiting for a reaction.
She said to Crystal, “It all looks great. I’m assuming money’s no object?”
Tessa immediately looked stricken, and the happy flush disappeared from her cheeks. She put a hand to her chest. “Honestly, I don’t need an extravagant wedding. I thought your father’s suggestion that we do hamburgers and hot dogs on the grill was fine.”
Mila put an arm around her soon-to-be sister-in-law. “Don’t mind me. Of course you want a beautiful wedding meal, and we’re going to choose you one. That dig would have been a lot funnier if my brother were here. I’m used to teasing him, and sometimes I forget myself.”
Tessa still looked worried. “I can’t even imagine how much a wedding in Scotland is going to cost, and it’s only a decoy.” Then she lowered her voice. “Mila, Archer is talking about flying us all there on private planes.”
She had to bite back a smile. Tessa’s life was changing in a lot of ways. As she glanced down at the menus, she said, “At least let’s make sure we pick the popcorn for the late-night snack. It’s so perfect, Arch being a movie star and all.”
Tessa and Crystal looked delighted by this idea, and without even trying, one decision had been made. Then Sergio, Francesca’s son, arrived, all Italian and gorgeous. He presented the goat cheese and fig crostini, and all three of them found it delicious. While she tasted, Mila contemplated Tessa. The kind and warmhearted woman who’d won her brother’s heart was being tossed seriously out of her comfort zone. Decoy weddings and private planes, red-carpet events and paparazzi stalking her. It must be super stressful for someone who’d never been in the public eye before.
As she nibbled on the prawn and mango salad, she asked her, “How do you reconcile how much your life has changed? Do you feel like you’re losing your identity?” As soon as she said the words, Mila realized she might have been too blunt. Truth was, she was wondering how much love could change a person.
Tessa wiped her mouth daintily with a napkin and seemed to genuinely consider the question. “I don’t think I am losing my identity. I think I’m embracing a new one, that of Archer’s wife. I’ll still be me. Maybe I won’t work as a caregiver anymore, because I’m selling paintings now, but I was always an artist, and it was Arch who made me see that. I think when I’m with him, I’m a better version of myself.”
Mila thought this was a beautiful answer. She was still considering it when they moved on to tasting cake. As she bit into a chocolate fudge cake that had the most delicious chocolate and coffee icing she’d ever tasted, she continued to contemplate what Tessa had said. Finally, she had to ask, “But how do you know he’s right for you? I mean, how do you actually know he’s The One, out of all the men in the world that you could have met and married?”
Tessa put a star beside the chocolate cake on the checklist they were using and then said, “I don’t know. I just really love him.”
Crystal had been watching this interchange. “These are really good questions. Honestly, as a wedding planner, I wish more couples spent time thinking about these things. It’s not whether you wear a veil or not that matters in the end. It’s whether you chose a compatible partner.”
Tessa laughed. “My wedding dress was the easiest choice I ever made. I’ll be wearing Betsy’s dress, and I couldn’t be happier. But Arch is the person I want to be with. When I wake up in the morning, he’s there beside me. It’s the best feeling. And even if we argue sometimes, or he gets high-handed with me, or I have to remind him that I need time to paint, I know he gets me, and I think I get him.”
Crystal and Mila exchanged a glance, and Crystal said, “Wow, that is true love. You’re not being definitive. You’re just trusting.”
Tessa turned to her. “I think when you’re truly in love, the trust is a natural part of it.”
Trust. It was definitely the cornerstone of a good relationship. Was Mila willing to risk her heart by trusting again? “But what if your heart is wrong?”
Tessa looked over at her and obviously understood. “I get it. I was definitely not looking for love or marriage, especially since I’d been married before and not very happily, if I’m honest. But I think that even with whatever damage we’re carrying around inside ourselves, if we’re listening closely enough to what’s truly inside our hearts, I don’t think the heart can ever steer us wrong.”
* * *
Having eaten a lot of tiny pieces of food and enjoyed her time with Tessa and Crystal more than she could have imagined, Mila checked her watch and then her email as they prepared to leave Francesca’s. Her only client for tomorrow had canceled their appointment, citing a dental emergency. She felt bad for them, but pleased for herself. Now she could spend the whole day with her new lover.
Crystal said, “I’ll tell Francesca what we’ve chosen. It’s a beautiful menu. All this food is paid for. Why don’t you take some of it?”
Mila spied the chocolate fudge cake and thought how much Hersch might enjoy it, so Crystal had the staff cut about a quarter of the cake, wrap it up, and put it in a box for her to take home. She waved away the rest of the food, but that chocolate cake was calling to her. She left first, got in her car, and as if on autopilot, drove straight to Herschel’s place. Then, as she sat in her car outside his house, she thought, What am I doing? I can’t just show up on his doorstep with cake. So she called him.
He sounded delighted to hear from her. “How did the tasting go?”
“Really well. In fact, I’m outside your house with a cake sample.”
He laughed. “What are you doing calling me? Come on in.”
She took in the cake, and they headed to the kitchen, which, second to the bedroom, was becoming their favorite room.
“I have more good news,” she told him. “My only appointment tomorrow afternoon canceled. If you still want to spend the day with me, I’m free.”
“That is excellent news.”
“Almost as excellent as this cake. It’s so good you have to try it.” As she opened the cake box, he reached for forks, but she stopped him.
“I don’t think we’re going to eat this with forks.”
He grinned down at her. “Okay, then.”
Keeping her gaze on his, she reached in, scooped up a chunk of chocolate cake with her fingers, and fed it to him.
“Oh my, that is good,” he said. “I never allow myself treats. Is this what I’ve been missing?”
“Mm-hmm,” she said, pulling off a creamy cherry and popping it into his mouth.
“You’re killing me,” he murmured. Then, reaching for the box, he fed her a chunk of cake. She felt the icing melting against her lips and licked them slowly, seductively. She reached for him, not caring that she was smearing cake crumbs on his jeans. Before she knew it, he was slipping off her dress. She felt it flutter to the floor in a puddle.
“Nothing is sweeter than the taste of you,” he murmured, licking her neck, then her collarbone, and then finally releasing her breasts from her bra and licking her nipples. She shivered with a pleasure so deep it felt primal. She let herself melt into his arms and moaned as he continued to strip her naked. Suddenly, he stood back and then dropped to his knees. With a sexy grin, he reached for the cake and smeared some icing on her navel. Using his tongue, he gently licked it off in circles, making his way down, farther and farther, until she was trembling, no longer able to support herself.
He scooped her up then and laid her back on the kitchen counter. She let her eyelids flicker shut and concentrated on the intense waves his mouth was giving her. Her body was sticky—from cake and from his mouth and from her own pleasure. There was something extra hot about him being fully clothed and her naked. She felt more worshiped than she ever had before, as though she were his Earth, and he was the moon, orbiting around her. It was heaven.
* * *
The next morning, Mila woke up Hersch.
He groaned. “What time is it?”
“Six a.m. That’s when the waves are best.”
He opened one eye, then the other. She kissed him, enjoying the tickle of his moustache that had become so familiar to her she could no longer imagine kissing a man without one.
“Tell me you’re not going to make me go surfing with you this early.”
“Come on, you did so well yesterday. We’ve got to seize the day.”
He shook his head. “I’m pretty sure I injured myself.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Hersch, you got in up to your knees.”
“I think I stubbed my toe on a rock.”
She pulled off the covers and slapped his rump. “You’ll thank me afterward.”
He groaned but was soon dressed and had coffee on. They ate a quick bowl of cereal with coffee. This time when they headed out, she grabbed a boogie board for him. He eyed it suspiciously.
“It’s not surfing. You don’t go in deep water. We’re just going to play like kids.”
Then she put her surfboard back and grabbed a boogie board for herself as well.
While there were plenty of good waves out there, Mila resolutely turned her attention away from them, and she and Hersch ran up and down the beach, jumping on their boards and sliding like kids. Not even the dogs racing to catch balls were flying as high as Mila and Hersch on their boogie boards. She felt more carefree than she had in years.
After an hour, they were laughing, and Hersch was in above his knees now. She didn’t think he’d even noticed. She kissed him, and he put his forehead against hers.
He said, “I’m so glad you’re spending the day with me.”
“Me too. You can consider it part of your welcome tour to the area. Part of the professional package of services I offer to my very special clients.”
At the words very special, he grinned and pulled her in for another kiss. They went back to her place, and he helped her take off her suit.
“I think a little bit of chocolate cake ended up in the wrong place,” he said and then leaned forward to lick the possibly nonexistent chocolate off the slope of her breast. They got in the shower, soaping each other up and enjoying each other with an urgency that surprised her. When they’d both climaxed under the streaming water, they turned off the shower and got out.
Then she opened her cabinet of wonders and treated him to an unscented sunscreen that was also a really good moisturizer. She took it upon herself to rub it well into his skin, explaining how important it was not to get a sunburn.
The next item on their agenda for the day was a bike ride down 17-Mile Drive. Of course, he had his own bike, and she had hers, so they donned helmets and headed out. It started out as a tranquil ride, as she pointed out to him some of the fanciest houses, more than one of which she’d sold, the Instagram-famous Lone Cypress, and the beauty of the coastline and forest. She loved showing off the gorgeous scenery and breathing in the sea-tinged air. But then she noticed he was riding a little faster than she was, and she was falling behind.
It sparked her competitive streak, so she picked up the pace until she was ahead of him. If Hersch was going to treat this like training, she would show him what she was made of. Her legs began to burn, and before she knew it, there were two very competitive people racing neck and neck, pretty much flying down the quiet road. They continued side by side, and soon the need to beat him rolled back to reveal an exhilaration that she’d found a man who could match her both physically and competitively. She was pretty sure he wouldn’t pout if she won their race and then tried her level best to prove her point. However, he wasn’t letting her win, no way. They reached the end of the drive, and by the imaginary finish line, they were both sweating profusely, their chests heaving with effort.
He turned and grinned at her. “That was amazing.”
She laughed. “It was. I think you won by half a wheel.”
He took a mock bow, and she laughed again. She was enjoying getting to know his more goofy, less serious side.
“I’ll get you next time,” she said, hoping beyond hope that there would be many more “next times” to come.
Hersch wiped sweat from his chin.
She asked, “Are you up for a hike? There are some amazing views I’d love to show you.”
He raised his brows. “You’re insatiable. Boogie boarding, cycling, and now hiking?”
“For some reason, I’m full of energy.” It was true. Right now, she felt like she had enough energy to hike Mount Everest.
“Okay,” he said. “If I ever get my breath back.”
They both rehydrated when they returned to the car, and then she drove them to Garland Ranch Regional Park. It was a warm day, and she was in skimpy shorts and a sports bra under a wicking T-shirt that was already wet from the sweat of their ride. He was likewise casually dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. However, Hersch being Hersch, he also carried a full backpack. When she quizzed him on what was in it, he told her water, snacks, medical supplies in case either of them had an accident, and a GPS device in case their phones stopped working.
Her jaw almost dropped. “You sure like to be prepared.”
“Fail to prepare, prepare to fail,” he said.
She carried a small bottle of water and a baseball cap to shield her face from the sun.
They set off, and as in the bike race, they were soon going at a pretty fair clip. They started by Carmel River, where the path was shaded by sycamore trees, then the trail veered sharply up, and they kept their fast pace.
She loved it. She loved not having to hold back or slow down. Even when she hiked with her sister or brothers, she often felt as though she was pacing herself, but not with Hersch. She could push as hard as she wanted, and he was right there with her.
They left the shade behind, and the sun grew increasingly warm. Soon, she’d gone through her bottle of water and was grateful when he handed her a fresh one from his pack. When the heat was too much, she simply pulled off her shirt, hiking in nothing but her sports bra and tiny shorts, and then he followed suit, stripping off his shirt so he was bare-chested. She had to stop glancing his way, because it made her mouth even drier, and all she wanted to do was stop and take him right here and right now.
They eventually reached the top of the trail, and munched apples he’d brought along.
When they got back, she took him to the farmers’ market, and they both ordered three kinds of juice and then headed to the taco stand. “Everything tastes so much better when you’ve worked up an appetite,” he said.
They found a grassy area and sat in the shade. He leaned against a tree trunk and tucked her under his arm so her head was on his chest. As she drank fresh juice and snacked on enchiladas, she wondered if she’d ever been this happy.
Hersch said, “I don’t want this day to end. Do you have plans tonight?”
Mila toyed with a taco chip, buying herself a little time to think about what she was going to say next. Then, with both Erin’s and Tessa’s words about trust ringing in her memory, she said, “Arch and Tessa’s real wedding is Saturday, two days from now. So far, it doesn’t seem like any paps have gotten wind of it, but we have to be so careful. We’re planning a family barbecue tonight to have some family time before the big day. Dad loves to get behind a grill and throw together hot dogs and hamburgers, and Mom makes her famous potato salad. It’s traditional, but it means a lot to us.”
“That sounds nice,” he said, just a tad wistfully.
She turned to him. If she was honest with herself, she’d been thinking about this moment all day. She wanted to invite him to the Davenport home tonight and let him be part of their family tradition. But it was a big step. A huge step. She flashed back to him on the boogie board this morning. He and the water were a maybe, but she could see that maybe was making its way to yes. In the same way, her maybe about him was slowly but surely turning into a yes.
Finally, she said, “Would you like to come?”
He looked delighted with the invitation. “I’d love to. What can I bring?”
“Nothing. Dad will already have the beer and soft drinks on ice, and he’ll have already bought the food.”
He looked very serious. “Does your dad barbecue over real coals?”
“Yeah. I told you, it’s not fancy.”
He shook his head slowly at her. “We need to stop at the store, stat.”
She merely raised her brows at him, and he said, “Where I come from, when you finish a meal like that, you have to have s’mores.”
She had to hold back her laugh. “Now you’re getting fancy.”
“I want to make a good impression on your family.”
When they’d cleaned up and dressed for the family barbecue, they stopped at the corner store on their way to the Davenport home. She’d taken time to message the family group and let them know she was bringing Hersch, just to avoid any awkward exclamations. The replies were all positive—lots of thumbs-up, and of course Arch sent the heart symbol. She was hoping that the sibs might be a little more cool about things when she and Hersch arrived and act like she brought men to their family barbecues all the time, when in fact the only man she’d ever brought here was Travis, and that hadn’t exactly turned out well.
But she was a different Mila now, and Hersch was nothing like her ex.