“I’m sorry, but my boyfriend just had the floors redone, would you mind wearing these instead of your shoes?” Rebecca asks. “I just have these two pairs. Would you mind wearing my boyfriend’s? He hasn’t worn them yet—they’re still brand new.”
“Are you sure he’ll be okay with that?” Leilani asks.
“Sure,” Rebecca says sadly. “I’ll probably have time to buy him a new pair before he comes to visit me again.”
Leilani slides the slippers on. There’s a huge gap at the back, and she feels like she’s wearing clown shoes. She follows Rebecca down the long hall, walking slowly, so she doesn’t trip on the huge shoes.
“Did you have a chef back home?” Leilani asks.
“I’ve always cooked for myself,” Rebecca answers. “I like it better that way. Actually, I’m a fairly private person. The maid here helps with cleaning, but she goes home every night. I basically live by myself.”
Leilani looks around as they walk. Though Rebecca just moved in, the house is fully furnished. Everything in it seems to come in a matching set. There are two loveseats in the living room with two end tables and reading lamps. In the kitchen, his and hers mugs sit next to the coffee pot, waiting for Rebecca and her boyfriend to use them. It’s clear that Rebecca has tried to make the house a romantic retreat for her boyfriend.
The kitchen has a modern, open floor-plan with a marble-topped island in the middle. Rebecca walks around the room, opening cabinets, and selecting ingredients. She puts them all on the island and washes her hands at the sink.
“How many people are you cooking for?” Leilani asks.
There’s an entire head of crisp green lettuce, a pound of ripe tomatoes, and piles of finely chopped herbs and spices. There seems to be enough food to feed a small dinner party.
“Just for us,” Rebecca says, drying her hands. “It seems like a lot, but most of this will cook down.”
Leilani watches Rebecca work with fascination. The woman is just as graceful with a knife as she is with everything else. She slices and chops each ingredient with delicate flicks of her wrist. Then she pours oil into a pan and fries a thick cut of salmon. Hot steam swirls up from the pan, but Rebecca doesn’t seem to mind.
“Is your boyfriend joining us?” Leilani asks.
“I’m not expecting him,” Rebecca says. “He’s very busy.”
Rebecca’s phone starts to ring, and she drops the spatula and rushes to answer it. She runs to the living room and sits down on the sofa. Leilani grabs the spatula and lifts the salmon out of the pan and onto a plate. The bottom of the fish is perfectly seared, and the top is dotted with dark green herbs and spices.
The pan is still sizzling hot, and the oil pops and crackles. Leilani looks over at Rebecca, but she seems focused on the conversation. She sits straight and proper on the sofa with her legs crossed at the ankle. Though she knows she shouldn’t eavesdrop, Leilani can’t help but listen. She wonders if Rebecca is talking to her mysterious boyfriend.
“I promise, I’m doing well,” Rebecca says. “I’m adjusting and taking care of the house.”
The pan makes a loud cracking sound, and hot oil shoots into the air and splatters onto the counter. Leilani rushes over and turns the heat off.
“Listen, I’m cooking right now, and it’s almost finished,” Rebecca says into the phone. “Please take care of yourself and eat well, Pop. If I find out you’re eating anything that could trigger your gout, I won’t come to visit you. The housekeepers will tell me the truth.”
Rebecca ends the call and walks back into the kitchen. Leilani smiles guiltily at her new friend and looks at the fresh vegetables on the counter. Rebecca grabs a knife and starts shredding the lettuce and arranging it on the plate. She takes a small, wickedly sharp blade and carves the tomatoes into roses.
“Can I help with anything?” Leilani asks.
“Leave it to me, Leilani,” Rebecca says. “What kind of host would I be if I made my guests prepare their own dinners? Besides, you’ve been on your feet all day. Please go sit down and relax a moment. There are some magazines on the table if you want something to do.”
Leilani sits on the sofa and flips through a fashion magazine. Velvet throw pillows decorate the pale blue sofa, and a plush rug covers the floor. In the corner, a fireplace crackles warmly. As cozy as the room is, it still feels cold and lonely. I’d hate to live here all alone, she thinks. Rebecca must be lonelier than she lets on.
The doorbell rings, and Rebecca rushes through the living room and down the hallway. She smooths her hair and straightens her skirt as she goes. Her smile is bright and charming, but her forehead is creased with worry. Leilani knows she needs to stop eavesdropping, but she holds her breath and listens to the conversation echoing down the hall.
“Oh, I didn’t think you would come,” Rebecca says. “I’m sorry I let the guest wear your slippers. No matter, just come in with your shoes on.”
Leilani’s curiosity gets the better of her, and she stands and walks closer to the hallway. It sounds like Rebecca is talking to her boyfriend, and Leilani wants to get a look at him. There’s a pause while he answers, but Leilani can’t make out his voice.
“Aren’t you going to come in?” Rebecca asks, sounding worried. “Dinner is almost finished, and there’s more than enough for you to join us. If you don’t have time, maybe you could stay for a drink. I want you to meet my new friend.”
There’s another pause while the man replies. He must be whispering, Leilani thinks. I can’t hear a word he’s saying.
“She’s a jewelry designer at D. O.—I just met her today,” Rebecca says.
Leilani hears footsteps, and she leaps away from the door, and rushes back to the sofa, tripping over the giant slippers. A tall man follows Rebecca into the room, and Leilani’s breath catches in her throat—it’s Waylen.
He looks down at her with an unreadable expression, and she feels her face flush. Her heart twists painfully in her chest, and her thoughts chase themselves around her head. A part of her wants to run out of the room, but she stays frozen on the sofa, like a bird transfixed by a snake.
“Leilani, allow me to introduce my boyfriend: Waylen Bamford,” Rebecca says. “Waylen, this is my new friend, Leilani Peters. I just met her today.”
Waylen glares down at her with daggers in his eyes and sneers, “She doesn’t deserve your friendship.”
Leilani looks away from Waylen’s venomous gaze and whispers, “I’m sorry Rebecca, I just remembered I have to do something at home. I’m afraid I have to leave now.”
Rebecca bites her lip and looks between them, “Wait, do you two know each other?”
“No, I don’t know her,” Waylen says, his voice cold and flat.
Leilani stands and gives Rebecca a quick hug. Her heart hammers in her chest, and she feels Waylen’s eyes on her, judging her every move. Rebecca’s face is pale with worry, but she’s too polite to force Leilani to stay.
“I’m sorry to see you go,” Rebecca says.
Leilani nods and rushes into the hallway, desperate to get as far from Waylen as possible. She can hear Rebecca and Waylen following her into the hallway, and she fights the urge to run out the front door. She kicks the slippers off and fumbles for her shoes, trying to slide her feet in as quickly as possible.
The front door opens, and closes and Leilani jumps. Robert is standing two feet away from her, looking down with a strange expression. She stops trying to buckle the strap on her left shoe and stares at him in surprise.
“I didn’t expect to see you here, Miss Peters,” Robert says. “Are you leaving?”
“Yes, I’m afraid I have to go,” she says, bending over to fix her shoe.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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