home.”
I thanked him and wondered how Kari ever got used to this sort of treatment. If I were her, I would go out every night just to see people’s faces light up.
The owner showed us around the club. I had to pass up the good appetizers in favor of grapes and cheese since I was pretending to be a vegetarian. After that, Nikolay leaned up against a wall looking for suspicious activity while Stefano and I danced. Club dancing, I noticed right away, was nothing like dancing at my school dances. Some of the people looked more like they were trying to conceive children than actually dance, and I had to keep averting my gaze from them. If Abuela had been here, she would have wanted to smack people with her Bible left and right.
The club played a couple of Kari’s songs, and when they did, a whole bunch of people sang along and turned to watch me. It was another aspect Maren hadn’t covered, and I panicked at the awkwardness of the moment. I did some of the moves Jacqueline had taught me and pretended to sing along too.
We danced for two hours, and I noticed I was leaving trails of glitter all over the floor. I hoped the owner didn’t mind. A few times, people came over to say that they loved my songs, but Stefano always whisked me away before they could attach themselves or try to become my new BFFs. Stefano got high marks for crowd control. He got lower marks for the way he’d taken to staring into my eyes intently, as though we were soul mates and not out on our first date.
Finally we left the dance floor to get drinks. Nikolay followed without getting too close, his eyes patrolling the crowd. I sipped a guava-kiwi juice while we walked toward the tables. A group of way-too-excited girls hurried by us without noticing me. “He’s here?” one said with an exaggerated gasp. “Really?”
“I’m going to die!”
“I have to get a dance with him. I have to!”
I let my gaze follow them. To Stefano I said, “Who are they talking about?”
He pulled my chair out for me, then sat down himself. “Probably Grant Delray. He came in earlier.”
“He did?” I asked, sounding too much like the girls we’d just passed. I calmed my voice and casually added, “I didn’t know he was coming tonight.”
“I saw him while we danced. Do you know him?”
Good question. I had no idea. Maren had never said anything about him, but that didn’t mean Kari and he hadn’t done something together. And he might know her well enough to spot a fake.
This could turn bad quickly.
Stefano laughed. “Judging from your response, I’d say you do know him.” He leaned closer, and his voice took on a teasing edge. “You look uncomfortable, so it must be a good story.”
“That’s not it at all,” I said. “I just suddenly remembered that . . .”
I had come to California to find out who I was, and I learned something about myself right then—I am not a good liar. I needed a reason to call Maren and talk to her privately, and my mind was a complete blank.
I rifled through my purse until I had my cell phone. “I, um, forgot to turn off my sprinklers and they’re probably flooding the lawn by now. I need to call my assistant and tell her to turn them off.”
His eyebrows drew together at this new piece of information. “You don’t have landscapers to do that sort of thing?”
Which is why you shouldn’t try to think up excuses for rich people.
I stood up. “Usually I do, but I thought the lawn was looking dry, so I turned the water on, and now I need to find a quiet place to make a call.”
He frowned. “Why don’t you text her?”
Because with the way Stefano kept draping himself around my shoulders, he was bound to see what I texted, and I couldn’t very well write Grant Delray is here. Does he know Kari?
“My assistant might have questions.”
Stefano stood up as though he would come with me, and I waved him to sit back down.
“You don’t have to come. In fact I’ll probably stop by the restroom too,
I thanked him and wondered how Kari ever got used to this sort of treatment. If I were her, I would go out every night just to see people’s faces light up.
The owner showed us around the club. I had to pass up the good appetizers in favor of grapes and cheese since I was pretending to be a vegetarian. After that, Nikolay leaned up against a wall looking for suspicious activity while Stefano and I danced. Club dancing, I noticed right away, was nothing like dancing at my school dances. Some of the people looked more like they were trying to conceive children than actually dance, and I had to keep averting my gaze from them. If Abuela had been here, she would have wanted to smack people with her Bible left and right.
The club played a couple of Kari’s songs, and when they did, a whole bunch of people sang along and turned to watch me. It was another aspect Maren hadn’t covered, and I panicked at the awkwardness of the moment. I did some of the moves Jacqueline had taught me and pretended to sing along too.
We danced for two hours, and I noticed I was leaving trails of glitter all over the floor. I hoped the owner didn’t mind. A few times, people came over to say that they loved my songs, but Stefano always whisked me away before they could attach themselves or try to become my new BFFs. Stefano got high marks for crowd control. He got lower marks for the way he’d taken to staring into my eyes intently, as though we were soul mates and not out on our first date.
Finally we left the dance floor to get drinks. Nikolay followed without getting too close, his eyes patrolling the crowd. I sipped a guava-kiwi juice while we walked toward the tables. A group of way-too-excited girls hurried by us without noticing me. “He’s here?” one said with an exaggerated gasp. “Really?”
“I’m going to die!”
“I have to get a dance with him. I have to!”
I let my gaze follow them. To Stefano I said, “Who are they talking about?”
He pulled my chair out for me, then sat down himself. “Probably Grant Delray. He came in earlier.”
“He did?” I asked, sounding too much like the girls we’d just passed. I calmed my voice and casually added, “I didn’t know he was coming tonight.”
“I saw him while we danced. Do you know him?”
Good question. I had no idea. Maren had never said anything about him, but that didn’t mean Kari and he hadn’t done something together. And he might know her well enough to spot a fake.
This could turn bad quickly.
Stefano laughed. “Judging from your response, I’d say you do know him.” He leaned closer, and his voice took on a teasing edge. “You look uncomfortable, so it must be a good story.”
“That’s not it at all,” I said. “I just suddenly remembered that . . .”
I had come to California to find out who I was, and I learned something about myself right then—I am not a good liar. I needed a reason to call Maren and talk to her privately, and my mind was a complete blank.
I rifled through my purse until I had my cell phone. “I, um, forgot to turn off my sprinklers and they’re probably flooding the lawn by now. I need to call my assistant and tell her to turn them off.”
His eyebrows drew together at this new piece of information. “You don’t have landscapers to do that sort of thing?”
Which is why you shouldn’t try to think up excuses for rich people.
I stood up. “Usually I do, but I thought the lawn was looking dry, so I turned the water on, and now I need to find a quiet place to make a call.”
He frowned. “Why don’t you text her?”
Because with the way Stefano kept draping himself around my shoulders, he was bound to see what I texted, and I couldn’t very well write Grant Delray is here. Does he know Kari?
“My assistant might have questions.”
Stefano stood up as though he would come with me, and I waved him to sit back down.
“You don’t have to come. In fact I’ll probably stop by the restroom too,
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