Добавил:
Upload Опубликованный материал нарушает ваши авторские права? Сообщите нам.
Вуз: Предмет: Файл:
Linda Andersson & Sara Marx - In Sight of the S...docx
Скачиваний:
2
Добавлен:
07.09.2019
Размер:
239.76 Кб
Скачать

Chapter Fourteen

A stretch of Ventura Boulevard that bordered Studio City housed Vivica’s, one of the best breakfast joints in the state, as far as Guin was concerned, possibly even the planet. It was the perfect place to kick off the weekend. The patronage was a mixture of starlets and everyday folks lurking behind sunglasses, hoping to be mistaken for starlets. Tables lined the patio where waiters served up Frisbee-sized pancakes and cups of coffee that outshined any national chain.

Terence watched Guin wolf down her breakfast. She felt his stare, stopped her fork in midair.

“What is it?” She set the fork down, hesitantly touched her nose. “Boog?”

“No boog.” A smile emerged on his face. “This is nice—I mean a little barbaric, but nice.”

“What?” she asked between bites.

“Seeing you eat again. Enjoying food.” He reassessed her shoveling. “Sort of, anyway.”

“I know,” she said, blotted her lips, sipped her orange juice. “I’m starting to get back to normal. Well, normal for me anyway. Feels pretty good.”

“Good.” He had left his own breakfast untouched. He clasped his hands, leaned forward slightly toward her. “So does this mean that you and your new partner are getting on well?”

Guin arched an eyebrow. “We’re not getting it on.”

“That’s not what I said. You know it.” Terence playfully punctuated his words with his fork. “Well? Things are good?”

Guin seemed to consider it. “Yeah, she’s okay, that one.”

“And the porno future flashes?”

Guin nearly choked, covered her mouth with her napkin and swallowed carefully.

“Would you stop it?” She glanced around her. Guin took another sip, cleared her throat. “No, but she’s pretty cool to hang out with. Pretty…open-minded.”

“Well, we kinda already know that from the previews.” Terence joked.

“Very funny. I’m talking more about maybe being able to share other information with her.”

“Oh my God. Are you going to tell her about your powers?” Terence’s surprise response boomed loudly, alerting the folks in the immediate vicinity. Guin shot him a death ray look, shushed him. A man with distinct features at the next table seemed to tune them in. He looked familiar, like a character actor. Or maybe it was just because of all the lines on his face, Guin couldn’t be sure.

She leaned in close. “I’m thinking about it.”

Terence lowered his tone. “You think she’ll be okay with it?”

“Either that or she’ll think I’m crazy. I mean there’s really only two ways to go with it, you know?”

Terence looked thoughtful as he scooted scrambled eggs around his plate. “Just be careful, Guin. You have to work with her and you never know how people are going to react to…it.”

“Nothing I haven’t already thought of.” She rolled her eyes. “The last thing I need is another leave of absence.” Thoughts of termination, even men in white coats flitted through her brain. She added, “Or worse.”

“Well, play it by ear. Maybe the right circumstances will present themselves and it won’t be as much of a shock.”

Guin turned her attention back to her plate and swallowed a mouthful of pancakes. “What kind of circumstances could possibly make news like that any less weird.”

“You’re right. It’s not exactly natural,” he agreed. As an afterthought he smiled, his eyes gleamed mischievously as if he couldn’t help himself, as he added, “Supernatural, maybe.”

“Funny.” Guin waved her fork like a wand, changed the subject. “What about you? Any prospects these days?”

“No. Working too much to get involved. You know how it is,” Terence said with zero conviction. It meant there was someone, but he wasn’t ready to talk about him yet.

“Sure. So, what’s his name, wise guy?” She could tell he was trying to determine what he’d done to summon up that information. She rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t a vision, it was your face. You have no idea how to be coy. So bad at it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His face grew redder.

“Oh yeah, you’re getting some.”

Now it was Terence’s turn to shush her. He glanced around nervously. “Keep it down.”

“So, what’s his name?” She pushed her plate aside, gave him her undivided attention. “I’m all ears.”

“Only because you ate everything but the flatware.” He made an exasperated sigh. “I’m not ready to talk about him yet.”

“Bullshit. You tell me everything.” She shrugged. “I tell you everything.”

“I’m trying to pace myself with Mark.”

“Mark?” Her face lit up. She pretended to swoon, patted her heart. “His name is Mark.”

“Guin!” It was an angry whisper.

“Fine. Sorry.” She picked up her juice glass, took a sip. “I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

“Thank you.”

She attempted to guilt him. “Though I tell you all of my stuff.”

“Guin…”

“Or maybe I should just touch this fork and pick up some energy…” She tiptoed her fingers across the table causing Terence to swipe his utensils out of the way so quickly that the knife fell and clattered loudly on the patio. Guin burst out laughing, clapped.

“You are back to normal,” he scoffed. “A normal brat.”

She burst into a smile that only lasted a moment. Her attention was suddenly focused over Terence’s shoulder. Terence turned around to see a familiar-looking woman, mid-fifties, escorted by a significantly younger man. The woman spotted the pair, immediately waved and headed their direction.

“Fuck me twice on Sunday,” Guin muttered under her breath. The woman reached their table in seconds.

“Guinevere,” she cooed in a phony, sing-song voice.

Guin lowered her eyes, spoke through a clenched smile. “Mother.”

She was aware that Terence’s eyes were saucer-wide. He’d only seen a single crinkled picture of Guin’s nightmarish mother, Gloria, and now here she was, in the Botoxed flesh.

“That’s all you’ve got for your mother?” the woman asked. Her cheerful tone harbored a sharp edge. Gloria stood there in all her designer glory, her enhanced cleavage bursting out of her ridiculously tight flowery dress. A floppy hat protected her perfect blond hair from the sun, its wide brim purposefully drooping over one eye. It was quite a picture. Gloria thrust her cheek forward, as if Guin would rise up and kiss her hello. The move served to “accidentally” further emphasize her breasts. When Guin ignored the action, Gloria bent down, placing her cheek even closer. Again she was ignored. Gloria gave up and stood up.

“Who’s your young man?” She regarded Terence like a starving dog might regard a steak.

“I’m Terence.” He stood briefly, shook her hand and re-seated himself in accordance with the warning glare Guin was issuing him.

“Terence is a friend of mine,” she tersely stated.

“I see that.” Gloria’s smile was intended to convey her hope that perhaps he was something more. “I’m very, very happy to see that.”

“I’m still a gay homosexual lesbian queer, Mother.” Guin’s voice conveyed the sharp-toned emotion of a never-ending sore spot.

Guin could have slapped her mother with less impact. An older gentleman at the next table stifled a chuckle. Gloria’s date didn’t so much as wince; clearly he’d been instructed not to, such was the role for eye candy. But Gloria’s face burned an angry shade of red.

“There’s no need to be rude about it.”

Guin shrugged, forced a false smile. “Since when is telling the truth rude?”

When it appeared that her mother was looking around for a few spare chairs to join them, Guin pushed her own chair back and stood up and slapped a twenty on the table. “You can have this table. Terence and I were just leaving.”

She pulled Terence’s arm, trying not to notice that he was hurriedly grabbing the still-untouched bacon and muffin off his plate as she dragged him away.

Соседние файлы в предмете [НЕСОРТИРОВАННОЕ]