“Marcus Taylor! Would you stop servicing that girl and give your grandmother a hug?”
I peeked around in horror to see an old woman standing at the far end of the lawn, hands on her hips as she surveyed us. My face flamed fire-engine red as every othe
r part of my body simultaneously cooled.
“Your grandmother?!” I cried in a hoarse whisper. “Do you think she saw us?”
“I’m so sorry!” He suddenly looked like a child again; a teenage boy caught in the act as he hastily tried to tie the top of his shorts. “Just a…just a minute!” he called over the lawn.
“Hurry it up,” she barked, “I’m not getting any younger.” The wrinkles around her eyes deepened as she smirked to herself. “And if I remember correctly, it takes longer than a minute.”
Chapter 12
“Rebecca, would you come out of the closet? Please?”
I shook my head, even though no one could see me buried here amongst the silks and lace. While grandmother busied herself inside, commanding the waitstaff bring her canapés and iced tea, Marcus and I had hightailed it upstairs—whereupon he quickly dressed himself in proper clothing and I proceeded to move into the closet.
“She barely saw a thing,” he coaxed, standing on the other side of the door. “The porch is over three hundred feet from the pool. She just…assumed—”
“She saw everything,” I fired back. My voice sounded like a chain-smoker’s, hoarse with trauma and humiliation. “Way to throw my bikini in the pool, by the way. It made shuffling past her in a towel all the more memorable.”
There was a guilty pause followed by a dull thud as he pressed his head wearily against the door. “And you need to be quit being so scared of the peacock.”
“He was chasing me!”
My eyes closed and I prayed for an empty void to swallow me up. As if the initial humiliation wasn’t enough, Eduardo—the bane of my existence—had chosen that precise moment to emerge from the shrubbery and give chase. I leaned against the far wall of the closet, drawing my knees up to my chest and burying my face in hanging clothes. It was big enough in here that I could realistically stay for several days. Definitely until my apartment was ready. I’d just need someone to slip me trays of food.
“If you want, I can have Eduardo assassinated for you?” Marcus tried again. “We could stick an apple in his mouth and roast him on a spit. Luau-themed wedding?”
I laughed.
The corner of my mouth twitched, and I opened the door a crack with my foot. His eyes appeared instantly on the other side, crouched down at ground level.
“I could also try to have my grandmother deported. I’m sure the German consulate would be interested to know that her visa’s expired.”
This time, I let my hair spill forward so he wouldn’t see me smile.
“Was that a grin?” he asked hopefully, angling his face so he could better see inside. “A little grin? Maybe?” I finally looked up and he smiled. “Ah, there it is.”
“I have no idea how I’m supposed to go down there,” I said truthfully, my cheeks blushing furiously at the very thought. “Can you just tell her I got sick?”
“You absolutely don’t have to go,” he replied instantly. “You can stay here as long as you want. She’s my grandmother—it’s my mess to deal with.”
I sighed. “That’s not how fake relationships work, Marcus. We’re a team. After all, she’s supposed to be my grandmother soon too, right?”
He gazed at me steadily. “You do whatever you like—seriously, Becca, no pressure either way. But I’ve got to go down and meet her on the veranda. Will you be okay up here?”
“Oh yeah.” I glanced upwards at row of silk pashminas. “I could weave those into a very handy noose.”
He chuckled and got to his feet. But before he left, he leaned his head once more against the door. “Becca, I’m sorry we were interrupted but…you make one hell of a swimming buddy.”
I sank back farther into the closet as the door clicked shut, thanking my lucky stars that he couldn’t see as a fresh wave of color flooded my face.
It took me about five minutes to convince myself that a closet was no place to live and raise a family. Another five to rinse off the copious amount of sunblock that coated my skin. Another five after that to select an outfit that didn’t scream, ‘You just walked in on your grandson going down on me.’ (That outfit turned out to be slacks and a conservative blouse—not that it was fooling anybody.) When I finally skittered down the stairs and made my way out to the veranda, I thought I was steadied and prepped and ready for anything.
That is…until I got a better look at Marcus’ grandmother.
They say that when you find yourself in the presence of a great lady, either your knees lock up or you find yourself stumbling into the middle of the floor. I did a little of both.