Orange County Noir (Akashic Noir) (15 page)

"Ripping off your employer ... fun, huh?"

He shrugged. "Like I said, it'd be better'n this."

We turned our attention back to the pool and that pink
inner tube bobbing about when a pizza boy came whistling
into the courtyard, looking like a waiter holding a tray with
that flat box poised on his fingers.

"We'd need a plan," I said, as the pizza boy looked up,
trilled the fingers of his other hand like we were in some Hollywood musical, and headed for the cement stairway.

"Mims, I'm all about planning," Levi replied, pulling a
twenty from his pocket.

The stinking economy, even here in glorious Orange County,
had pushed substitute teaching gigs further and further apart,
so the next day, around lunchtime, I was sitting on the balcony
smoking a hand-rolled and scanning the classifieds. A cherry
pie cooled on the counter. I had to do something fast to rescue
my financial situation. Levi's truck skidded in. He threw a veggie bologna sandwich together-white bread from Trader
Joe's, Dijon mustard, and four slices of fake lunchmeat-and
said he was taking me with him to Shepard's house, ten minutes away.

I climbed into his truck, a major gas hog, which you just
about needed a ladder to get into. As we passed Latinas with
long black braids that touched their waists who pushed strollers, and homeless guys wearing tattered backpacks, he said,
"Um, by the way, Shepard thinks you're my older sister, so just
play it cool."

"Excuse me?"

"I decided he wouldn't like the idea of you being my
girlfriend."

"Sometimes you fucking make me wonder."

He nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. "I just
thought of it. Brilliant, huh?"

"Yeah, right. Incredible genius you got goin' in that head
of yours."

But as we crossed over Newport Boulevard, leaving the
not-so-good side of town for the lush, moneyed side where
tall eucalyptus swayed in the faint ocean breeze, Costa Misery
segued to Piece of Heaven, California, with its cute cottages,
palm trees, rosebushes, magenta bougainvillea, and Jaguars,
BMWs, and hybrids.

We pulled into his boss's driveway. A tall husky guy in
khakis and a polo shirt, with short graying hair, futzed in the
garage. He was a bit thick in the middle and wore conservative beige shoes.

"You owe me big time," I said, pushing open the door as
Mr. Orange County Republican approached us.

"That a promise?" he responded, as I jumped from the
cab.

The guy had probably been a hottie once and was handsome in an almost-fifty way, but he was so not my type. He
held out his hand. "You must be Levi's sister," he said, giving me a warm handshake. "He didn't tell me you were so
pretty."

"He's been forgetting to take his ginkgo biloba," I countered, playing it off, but I was charmed. And it takes a lot to
charm me.

Levi laughed as if I were the funniest older sister in the
entire universe.

"You two get acquainted," said Levi. "The back fence is
calling me."

Shepard gave him the thumbs-up sign and said, "Shall
we go inside?" Shepard's eyes were friendly as he gestured me
in and hit the electric garage door button. "The kids are at
school, but I'll show you around so you can see where you'd
be spending your days."

I forced a smile, tried to look interested.

"School's out tomorrow," he said. "I need someone who
can be a nanny and a teacher. Only occasional sleepovers,
when I'm out of town." He had a gap between his front teeth,
which were white and even. I had a boyfriend once with a gap
I loved to tongue.

"Your brother said you're a teacher."

Brother? Then I remembered.

"I was, back east," I said. "Taught drama and English. I've
been substitute teaching since I moved here. Not a lot of work
these days for teachers without seniority."

"That's too bad," he said, touching my shoulder to direct
me into the living room. He must have noticed how my gaze
fell on the baby grand because he said, "You play?"

"Used to."

"Like riding a bicycle, don't you think? You're welcome to
" He nodded toward it.

"Ah, no, maybe another time." Being able to play piano
impressed people, but it didn't impress me. You could learn
anything if you wanted to.

"Your brother said you like to bake."

"I'm obsessed with making pies." When we have extra
money, I almost added.

"You're welcome to bake here, anytime. I can't remember
the last time a pie came out of that oven. Just give me a list;
I'll buy you what you need."

If it were possible to fall in love with a house, I was fallinghard-especially for the kitchen. With that kitchen, I could
bake a million pies and never grow bored.

"Like something? Coffee? A soda?" he asked, sticking a
glass into the opening of the fridge's front panel. He pushed a
button. Ice dropped and chinked into the glass.

"Diet Coke?"

"Sure thing," he said, taking one from the fridge. He
moved toward the cabinet.

"No glass," I said, so he tore a paper towel from the roll
and wiped the top of the can clean before handing it to me.
No one had ever done that before, and I swear, he looked different after that. Charming.

We talked about my background and his needs, and an
hour later, when the kids were dropped off, he gave them big
bear hugs and introduced us. "Bella and Dante, this is Mimi.
She might be helping out. Want to show her your rooms?"
The kids appraised me like I was a new piece of furniture, and
then Bella took my hand.

"My room first," she said. Her little brother led the way,
running his Hot Wheels police car along the wall.

They showed me their rooms and I liked them. Levi stuck in
his head and said he had to run off for a while, and when he returned at 5:00, he seemed hyper, strange, and rushed me to go.

As we pulled away from the curb and headed down the
tree-lined street, Levi said: "He's not bad, right?"

"He was fine," I replied, almost adding, He was more than
fine. "And you're lowdown." I had never felt so cold toward
Levi. But he didn't seem to notice.

"He tell you what he does for a living? I think he's a developer or something."

"Something like that," I said.

"Major bucks."

"Construction's taking a dive."

"He tell you that? Don't believe it," he said, turning onto
a street with houses behind high walls, pulling over and putting the truck in park. He scooched over to me, took me in
his arms, and started kissing my neck. Melted me every time.
Stupid guys who were cute made the best lovers. It was the
truly smart ones you had to watch out for, who could fracture
your heart with one skewered word.

"C'mon, baby, don't be mad. It's a way for us to get
ahead."

"But his kids weren't brats. They were sweet."

He pulled a blanket from under the seat, covered us as he
pushed me down with kisses, and said, "After this, we'll go eat.
I'm starving."

We sat across from each other at Wahoo's Fish Tacos, a popular haunt on Placentia, down the street from where we lived.
The exterior was covered with chipping teal paint. Surf stickers smattered the windows. The menu offered Mexican entrees that weren't gourmet, but were good enough, priced for artists and people on limited incomes, and for rich Orange Countians who wanted to feel they were getting away
with something. As he talked about what we'd do with the
money-a new truck for him, a kitchen for me-you'd think
I was one hungry fish, the way I went for it. I must have been
beyond bored. We'd go slow and easy, figure things out, and
when we had all the pieces, we'd make our play, he said. But
I had a bad feeling.

Levi started staying up late, figuring out where we'd escape
to once we had a few of Shepard's more high-end belongings
that Levi would give to a friend of a friend who would split the
proceeds. I did a bit of research and learned that Shepard had
paintings and antiques worth thousands. He had one Chagall
lithograph, The Artist with a Goat, #1026, that was worth thirty
grand. Even inane simple drawings of dolphins that lined the
hallway by that overrated Laguna Beach artist, Wyland, sold for
three grand apiece. Levi's idea was we'd leave Costa Misery for
Mexico. No one can find you down there, he said.

A week into my new nannyhood, as Levi and I were
wrapping it up for the day and I was saying goodbye to the
children, Shepard said, "The kids are going to their aunt's.
Why don't I take you out to dinner, my thanks for coming to
our rescue.

Levi didn't miss a beat. "Go ahead, sis," he said. "It'd be
fun for you."

Sis?

I scanned what I was wearing-jeans, a purple pullover,
lowtop red Converse. "I'm not exactly dressed up."

"You'd look gorgeous in a flour sack," said Shepard.

Levi winked at me. I shrugged. "Okay, then."

Levi hurried off a little too quickly with a nonchalant
wave.

"Let's have a taste before we go," said Shepard. "Pick anything you like from the wine cellar and I'll meet you out by
the pool."

The cellar was a converted closet off the kitchen with a
slate floor and thermostat that said fifty-three degrees. I chose
a 1987 Tondonia because I liked the name. He carried our
glasses to the back patio that overlooked the pool. This pool
was a million times better than the one at the Arms.

"I could get used to this," I said, after we clinked glasses.

"I hope you do," he said, his voice all syrupy and warm,
like the wine.

Soon Shepard and I were in his jag cruising up Newport
Boulevard to Habana, a Cuban restaurant in a funky open-air
mall with an oil-drum waterfall and tattooed, pierced hipsters.
Habana was dark, lit only with candles. You could barely see
who was sitting next to you, but the waiter could see well
enough to recognize Shepard and make a big deal, and it was
different being with someone before whom people groveled.

Shepard ordered a bottle of Barolo red, which he explained was the king of wines. We toasted and he said to order
whatever tickled my fancy. Those were his words. During dinner, a second bottle of wine arrived and for dessert we shared
a Cuban flan. Our fingers brushed against one another.

"We're delighted you came to its, Mimi. The children like
you very much."

"They're sweethearts," I said.

"Actually, to be honest, I'm the happiest." He stroked my
arm and focused on it as if it were a great treasure. "You've got
great skin."

"This light would make anyone look good," I said, feeling
guilty over how much I enjoyed his attention. Then I thought,
What the hell. Levi got me into this, and I gave in. Right then and there I felt myself loosen and open to Shepard. When his
hand found mine, I let it. And when he brought my hand to
his lips, I let him. We left the restaurant and returned to his
Jag, his arm laced around my shoulder. He opened the passenger door and I slid onto the butter-soft leather seats that
reclined at the touch of a button. He got in and buzzed down
the windows. He turned to kiss me and I kissed him back,
tongued that gap in his front teeth. The wine was talking;
I've always been an easy drunk. His hand found its way under
my pullover and then he was in my jeans. I pressed against
his fingers and before long I shuddered. Who cared if he was
a conservative and a bit too husky-he had the touch of an
angel and I liked how sweet and considerate he was. He was
different from anyone I'd ever been with. Maybe older guys
with money could afford to be patient, considerate.

"What about you?" I asked into his neck, rubbing him
down there.

"There's time for that," he said, gently removing my hand
and kissing it.

When I got home, Levi wanted to know where we went
and what we did. He wasn't so laid-back about it anymore. I
didn't tell him everything, and I distracted him with sex. It
always worked. I had to keep my O.C. Republican a secret for
now.

But things had changed and Levi knew it. Now when we arrived at work in the morning, there was no mistaking the glimmer in Shepard's eyes. He'd hang around the house to have
coffee with me before taking off. On occasion, when everyone
was out of the house, we'd fool around.

"The dude fucking likes you," Levi said a week later, his
eyes flashing. We were in his truck, at a stop light.

"What are you talking about?"

"He's been asking me all about you. He's in love with
you.

"He can't be," I said, secretly wishing it were so.

"Hey, it could be good for us," he scowled.

"What do you mean?"

"Shit, what could be better for its than if he wanted to
marry you?"

"Excuse me?"

"It wouldn't have to change things between its. No one's
as great for you as I am. You'd never go for someone that old.
And if you did, I'd kill you." He laughed, then added, "You'd
just have to live with him for a time. It would help its pull off
our plan."

"You're talking too crazy for me," I said, as we crossed over
Newport Boulevard and Piece of Heaven turned back into
Costa Misery, with its pawnshops, its dive bars. But that night,
after Levi went back out to do who knows what-he wouldn't
say-I stood on the balcony and smoked a hand-rolled. As
the lit murky water below pulled my focus, the sounds of the
compound drew close-TV, a neighbor singing off-key, kids
screaming-and my own version of an old Animals song spun
an endless loop in my brain: I gotta get outa this place, if it's the
last thing I ever do.

The next day, after Shepard's sister picked up his kids for an
overnight, he said, "Let me take you to the fair. You've been to
the Orange County Fair, right?"

"Um, no," I answered. I'd left Bumfuck where "hooptedoo-
dle" was a favorite expression, and I had no desire to return.

"Then you got to let me take you."

"Fairs are a Republican thing."

"Pshaw!" he said, tucking in his turquoise polo shirt with
a tiny alligator over the left breast.