One advantage to living in the Los Angeles area is that if you can't cook but want a particular food there is always someone who will make it for you. Ready to go, just as though you prepared it yourself.Selene lifted her hair from her neck and twisted it into a soft swirl, hooking it with an antique pewter comb. Dark turtleneck and straight leg jeans with black Manolo's were the choice of the night. She saw Hopi's BMW pull into the driveway. You haven't earned that privilege yet, she thought.
"For you," he said as he stood in the doorway. "I know you like surprises." He touched his lips to her left breast.
My heart, Selene thought, pretentious. "Thank you. I'll open them later." She kissed him lightly on both cheeks, turning quickly, moving with just a tiny sway to the kitchen. A timer went off.
"The 'civet de lapin' is ready," she said. "I considered wearing a bunny costume, couldn't find one I liked."
"Too bad," he said. "Pierre de lapin."
"Very French and down to earth." She opened the oven door. "It stews in its own juices with a little help from me." She bent to lift it from the oven.
Henry came up behind Selene, put his arms around her and bit the back of neck. "Did you know that is what male rabbits do?" he asked.
"Only when they want to kill the female," Selene answered, slipping from his grasp. "Would you mind lighting the candelabra on the table?" She placed the copper stew pat on the counter top.
Henry sighed audibly. "I had two pet rabbits when I was a boy. Then we had 10. My father butchered them and stored them in the freezer, finally, he rented a meat locker," Hopi said. "I haven't had Pierre de lapin since."
Selene lit the candles. "Is that why you went into orthopedic surgery?" she asked.
"My mother had a cleft palate. That's why," he said, staccato and stinging. "How did you know I was a surgeon?"
"You said so," Selene said, untruthfully, reaching out a Manolo'd foot, placing it on top of his loafer. "Why do you travel?"
"I teach," he said. "I don't want this."
"Okay. I'll call for pizza," Selene said, wrapping her leg around his and reaching behind him for the phone. "How do you like yours?"
On the green camel rug in the dining room, Hopi showed Selene how he liked his.
"Did I make up for last time?" he asked. "Tell me. Did I practice or was that the real thing?"
"You're practiced. I hadn't realized how much. Two wives, three children, and a palimony case pending." Selene placed her hand on his belly.
"Is that so much worse than 47 and never married, only one long term relationship, and two arbitrations?" he asked, sitting up. "I ran a background check on you too."
Selene placed the Manolo's and pewter comb carefully side-by-side next to her hips, then rolled over facing him. "Your mother lived in that house I have in escrow. Until the day she died. You grew up there, then rented it through your corporation to that family who built the tree house and died. You were questioned. Crazy Louise and her nice fireman husband are buying that decrepit place for their twins from you. You hired me."
Hopi started to dress. "It's nobody's business. It's all legal. I disclosed what was necessary," he said. "I wanted the best."
"And you got it," Selene said, tracking her fingernail up the back of his calf to his thigh. "Aren't you hungry?"
He looked down at her. The room was dark except for her silhouette in the moonlight. "Do you want to reheat Pierre?" he asked.
And that's the truth. To some extent.
"The 'civet de lapin' is ready," she said. "I considered wearing a bunny costume, couldn't find one I liked."
"Too bad," he said. "Pierre de lapin."
"Very French and down to earth." She opened the oven door. "It stews in its own juices with a little help from me." She bent to lift it from the oven.
Henry came up behind Selene, put his arms around her and bit the back of neck. "Did you know that is what male rabbits do?" he asked.
"Only when they want to kill the female," Selene answered, slipping from his grasp. "Would you mind lighting the candelabra on the table?" She placed the copper stew pat on the counter top.
Henry sighed audibly. "I had two pet rabbits when I was a boy. Then we had 10. My father butchered them and stored them in the freezer, finally, he rented a meat locker," Hopi said. "I haven't had Pierre de lapin since."
Selene lit the candles. "Is that why you went into orthopedic surgery?" she asked.
"My mother had a cleft palate. That's why," he said, staccato and stinging. "How did you know I was a surgeon?"
"You said so," Selene said, untruthfully, reaching out a Manolo'd foot, placing it on top of his loafer. "Why do you travel?"
"I teach," he said. "I don't want this."
"Okay. I'll call for pizza," Selene said, wrapping her leg around his and reaching behind him for the phone. "How do you like yours?"
On the green camel rug in the dining room, Hopi showed Selene how he liked his.
"Did I make up for last time?" he asked. "Tell me. Did I practice or was that the real thing?"
"You're practiced. I hadn't realized how much. Two wives, three children, and a palimony case pending." Selene placed her hand on his belly.
"Is that so much worse than 47 and never married, only one long term relationship, and two arbitrations?" he asked, sitting up. "I ran a background check on you too."
Selene placed the Manolo's and pewter comb carefully side-by-side next to her hips, then rolled over facing him. "Your mother lived in that house I have in escrow. Until the day she died. You grew up there, then rented it through your corporation to that family who built the tree house and died. You were questioned. Crazy Louise and her nice fireman husband are buying that decrepit place for their twins from you. You hired me."
Hopi started to dress. "It's nobody's business. It's all legal. I disclosed what was necessary," he said. "I wanted the best."
"And you got it," Selene said, tracking her fingernail up the back of his calf to his thigh. "Aren't you hungry?"
He looked down at her. The room was dark except for her silhouette in the moonlight. "Do you want to reheat Pierre?" he asked.
And that's the truth. To some extent.
to be continued...
