Stirred: A Love Story (15 page)

After walking two of his favorite females to Kenna’s Jeep and buckling Paige into her booster seat, he kissed them both. He loved his sister for worrying, but he had meant what he said. They’d kissed; they hadn’t crossed some line they couldn’t come back from. She simply needed one more thing to add to her list of concerns.

Sage was off for the next two days and had found a new mirror at a vintage housewares store in Santa Barbara when her mom called.

“Are you calling to tell me I spent too much money on a mirror? Did you sense I was shopping?” Sage answered playfully, stepping outside the store to take the call and telling her mom where she planned on putting her purchase.

“That sounds perfect, dear.” Her mother was distracted. Sage could always tell.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, well, your sister has had a bit of a breakdown.”

Sage was going to laugh, but her mother didn’t so she asked questions instead. “Meg? Is she home? I thought she was still in South America.”

“No, not Meg.”

“Okay, well, then I’m sure Annabelle is overreacting. I doubt it’s a breakdown. You know how she is and even if she’s upset, it’s—”

“Sweetheart, Anna’s fine. It’s Hollis. She came home last night and I thought she needed to talk, but she’s been in bed all day. I’m not sure how to handle this.”

“Hollis, are you kidding? Was she hurt?”

“No, something at work. She made a mistake, it has to do with a game called Fat Pigs. Have you heard of that one?”

Although Sage was on the phone, she shook her head along with saying, “No.” Hollis was the oldest of the Jeffries sisters. She was thirty-four, a hotshot vice president of Dobbins Venture Capital. If every sibling had a role in the family, Hollis’s was being the perfect overachiever. Sage was certain that “breakdown” was not a word allowed in Hollis’s vocabulary because to Hollis, it was synonymous with failure. She’d been class president and debate champion. The woman spoke three languages. Hollis didn’t break.

But her mother explained that she’d eaten three cartons of Thai food last night and fell asleep on the couch after binge watching
The Big Bang Theory
.

“Do you know that show?” her mom asked, as if knowing the show would provide a clue into fixing Hollis.

“I do, yeah. Did she tell you what happened?”

“Bits of it. I honestly don’t understand half of what she said and I want to let her sleep, but something about millions of dollars invested in this game that she vetted and the game doesn’t work. The developer was arrested, I guess. Sage, it sounds like a nightmare. The poor thing, I’ve never seen her like this.”

“What’d Dad say?”

“Oh, you know him. He’s been in touch with our attorney even though Hollis told him she wasn’t in any trouble. He’s still prepared. I swear that lawyer should live in the guest room as many times as he calls him.”

“Wow. I was planning on visiting in a few weeks. Do you need me to come early? I mean, I’m not sure if I can rearrange my schedule, but I can check.”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetie. I’m sure she’s going to sleep and work things out. I’ll call you back if she moves on to anything stronger than wine.” Her mother laughed and Sage could tell she was nervous. “So I wanted you to know, but don’t panic. She’s home and it’ll be fine. I’ll see you in March.”

Sage exchanged I-love-yous and hung up. The clerk in the store signaled that her purchase was wrapped and ready. She went back in and left a few minutes later with her mirror, an old abacus with jade beads for her father, and a big repurposed metal sign that read
LOVELY
for her mother. Sage knew Christmas was over, but she enjoyed buying gifts and now that she lived away from home, it was even more fun. Her parents were both architects: her father worked with nonprofits and community beautification programs while her mother worked on residential remodels and interior design. They both loved what they did and as a result, they were brilliant at it. Both her parents, Stuart and Wendy Jeffries, had home offices, and Sage could never quite see either of them retiring, even if everyone else their age did. “Maybe when one of my four daughters makes me a grandmother,” her mother had said once when they were discussing it over lunch. She was the only one among her friends who was not a grandmother, and it had become a perpetual source of guilt for the Jeffries girls. They’d tried to tell her they were “making lives for themselves first,” but Hollis was approaching her midthirties and hugely successful. Their reasoning was wearing thin. It struck Sage as funny that her mother assumed they would all have children, as if she’d paid into a pot somewhere and expected a lofty return. Sage was pretty sure one or two of them may disappoint her.

She had never thought about having children, which, based on her friends’ standards back home, was fine. She’d gone to school with some smart women who saw marriage and kids as an afterthought compared to a second masters’ or professional achievement. Although she did learn through pictures and the occasional e-mail that a few of her friends were engaged and one had a baby on the way. Sage had not managed even a steady boyfriend in college, so she was probably behind the curve. Was there a curve? She didn’t even need to get married. Times were different, and she could do whatever she wanted. When Sage thought of Garrett, she thought of a full life, and she guessed that included marriage. Right now though, she’d settle for another trip to the wine cellar.

Chapter Thirteen

T
he yellow couch was already taken when Sage arrived to get seats for Sunday coffee with Makenna.
Figures
. That couch was the best spot for people watching, and she could have used some of that this morning. After putting down her stuff at the blue corner table with a painting of a typewriter on it, she headed toward the line at the counter.

“Oh damn, you look so thoroughly loved. Is that a new sweater?” Sage asked as Kenna walked in and joined her in line.

Her friend smiled and nodded.

“I put my stuff on the typewriter table because apparently the people on the couch forgot it was our Sunday,” Sage said.

“I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, of course we will. Everything is fine. It’s all good,” Sage said in a mock dreamy voice.

“What?”

“I’m the one taking yoga. I should be calm and relaxed and you should be. . . Well, technically, I guess you’re taking yoga too. Sex yoga,” she said a little too loud and then turned to see if the people behind her noticed.

“What’s gotten into you this morning, loudmouth?”

“Nothing.” The line moved up. “There’s a guy, three back, with corduroys on and a kitten on his T-shirt. One more bit of info, in case you’re not on your game: looks like he’s wearing last night’s mascara.”

They turned discreetly as if they were looking at the pastries to find the man glancing down at his phone.

Kenna took less than a beat before facing forward. “This one is too easy. Went home with a woman last night. She ripped his shirt off, breaking the buttons, so he had to wear her kitten T-shirt on his walk of shame. But, on the way home he decided to stop for coffee.”

Sage laughed. “One problem with that theory, the T-shirt is his size.”

“Huh”—they ordered—“right. Well, that’s because. . . she normally wears that thing to bed. It’s oversized on her so it fits him. Or, he likes big girls.” She glanced back at him one more time. “Yeah, I think I like that one. Let me do this over. He’s best friends with cat T-shirt lady and last night they made mad passionate love. She took his shirt off with her teeth, and now he’s borrowed her T-shirt to go get them both coffee.”

“The mascara?” Sage asked.

“They. . . went to a concert last night and he’s an. . . accountant, but she brings out his wild side. He has no idea how to take it off.”

“Oh, you’re good.”

“I know. Now, you can buy me coffee.”

“For that one, I’ll even buy your breakfast.”

Kenna laughed as Sage paid and they returned to the table.

“No Paige today?”

“She’s with Travis and Garrett. There’s a Grossest Bugs exhibit at the Science Center. It’s sold out. Travis was barely able to find tickets, so they wanted to get there early.”

Sage nodded. “I see, so bugs beat bagels now. Huh.”

“Guess so.” Kenna took a piece of bacon.

They sat in silence.

“No, Garrett and Travis don’t normally hang out, but they both love Paige and apparently they both like bugs. Paige told me that every time she’s at the farm, Uncle lets her play with the worms.” She made a childish yuck face.

“You don’t need to explain. I didn’t say anything,” Sage replied, realizing she was cranky.

“You didn’t have to. I could hear your thoughts as soon as I said his name.”

“Wow, that’s quite the superpower.”

Sage sipped her dirty chai and tried to navigate this new thing between them. She was so used to pining over Kenna’s brother that she had never thought of what it would be like if she ever, say, kissed him silly in a wine cellar. She and Kenna had talked about it on the phone, but this was their first Sunday coffee since, and it felt a little off.

Maybe Kenna
could
read minds because she said, “All right, let’s get this out of the way. You kissed Garrett. He’s
the
guy now, so we still need to be able to discuss, talk trash, or get pissed. I can do that with you. I was able to talk about any other guy, including Travis. You should get to do the same. I will say this, he’s my big brother and I love him and. . . he’s one of the best people I know.”

Sage tried to say something, but Kenna held up her hand.

“But. . . you are my best friend. I love you too and you are the best female I know, aside from Paige, because we all know she’s better than all of us.”

“Agreed.” Sage felt her eyes well up. There was something about Kenna’s ability to see and speak things clearly that always got her right in the heart.

“So, I guess that’s it. Everything else is fair game. I may suffer a little if and when we get down to the sex stories, but I will soldier on.”

Sage closed her eyes.

“Sage?”

“Oh, sorry. I was thinking of which sex story I should tell first.”

“What! Seriously, already?”

She laughed and Kenna threw a napkin at her. “No way you’d have sex without me knowing.”

Sage shook her head. “We are talking about one kiss here. I haven’t seen him for days. I’m pretty sure it’s out of his system by now, so you won’t have to worry.”

“I’m not worried. Is that what you want? Is it out of your system?”

“No, it’s probably worse now. I don’t know. I honestly wasn’t expecting it to go past him laughing at my stupid bathroom pickup.”

“Which you seem to be handling pretty well.”

Sage sighed. “I suppose.”

“What? What was that sigh?”

“Nothing.”

“Spill. You are not one to waste a sigh.”

“I’m not sure what changed. He said he didn’t think of me that way, and I think on some level, I was comfortable with that. He was on a shelf.”

“Okay, and now what?”

“Now, I think it’s all tied up in this stupid book. Maybe I was working those exercises, even if they weren’t directed at him, and now he thinks that’s who I am. I told him the fantasy; I kissed him back and played along. I’m starting to regret opening the damn book. Remember when you said I should delete it? You were right.”

“Oh boy, can I get that in writing?”

“Sure. I honestly have no idea what I’m doing and now that I’ve kissed him, I think he sees me as some hot mama, to quote my grandfather.”

“You are kind of a hot mama, maybe your own version. Be yourself.”

“I don’t think that’s enough anymore. I need to be more. . . risqué.”

Kenna laughed. “I’m not laughing at you but the fact that you used the word risqué. I mean, Sage, you can’t be something you’re not. So he latched on to the fantasy thing, who cares?”

“I know, but it’s all off balance. The whole drunk New Year thing put me in a weird spot and it seems like the only way we connect right now is physically.”

“And that’s not what you want.”

Sage had no idea what she wanted and after another round of caffeine, she and Kenna decided she didn’t have to know. She could play along for now, but at some point, she’d need to admit she wasn’t the sex kitten she had built herself up to be.

“You need to let him see you, Sage. The real you who is so much more than what you’re showing him now,” Kenna said as they walked to their cars.

“I know, I’ll work on that. In the meantime, we have not discussed one thing about your wedding.”

“Oh God”—she climbed into her car—“I haven’t even started thinking about it. I’m going to enjoy being engaged for a while.”

“Good idea,” Sage said. “Hey, Kenna?”

She closed the door and rolled down her window.

“I love you too.”

Kenna blew her a kiss and was gone.

Sage often found it hard to believe she’d met her dearest friend only two weeks after arriving in LA. There was something about their lives at that very moment that made sense and now their lives were changing, moving forward, but the friendship, the nut of what they meant to each other, would always stay the same. She swallowed emotion as she backed out and turned up James Bay. He was her most perfect Sunday music boyfriend.