In Your Room (8 page)

“That’s what happens when you exert yourself,” he said, picking a towel up off the floor. “I was mountain biking for the past three hours.”

“Oh, believe me, I know how to exert myself, just not on a bike,” she said.

“Do guys really fall for that kind of line out here?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” Celeste said, dropping her purse and all the bags on the floor and disappearing into the closet.

“So how much money, exactly, did my sisters spend on your little adventure?” he called out.

“So uptight,” she scolded playfully, reappearing in a short black dress with a plunging vee that got lost in her cleavage. It was sexy, but definitely a size too small. “It was my treat.” She rotated back and forth in front of the mirror a few times and darted back into the closet. “You can put your eyeballs back in their sockets now.”

“Was I that obvious?” he asked, with a sly grin. He wasn’t used to girls being this forward. They usually made their affections known in more subtle, nonverbal ways, like sitting next to him at lunch or in class.

“Men always are. Boys especially.” She came back out in a white sundress with lace stitching. It was beautiful. He wondered if Molly had made it, if she had made everything hanging in the closet.

“Didn’t you just go shopping?” Charlie asked, gesturing toward the bags from Kitson, Barneys, and Saks on the carpet. Molly wasn’t kidding when she warned that Celeste would be raiding her closet.

“Are you trying to tell me this doesn’t look good?”

He just looked at her. Now she was fishing for a compliment—they both knew she looked amazing.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, prancing out of the room, taking her bags with her. “Now go shower. The party started at five. We’re late.”

“You said eight,” Charlie called out after her.

He switched his shirt for a clean one from the pile on the floor—the dumped contents of his duffel bag—and slid on a pair of jeans. In lieu of a shower, he ran his hands through his hair, matted from the bike helmet, and sat down at the desk. He opened his laptop and began a new e-mail to Molly.

“You’re still not ready?” Celeste accused, reappearing with a face full of makeup.

“You have to chill out,” Charlie said, hitting send and quickly snapping his laptop shut before she had a chance to read the screen.

“Ooh, secrets,” she taunted, peering over his shoulder.

Charlie ignored her. “All right, let’s go,” he said, leading the way to the door.

• • •

The mountains seemed to follow Molly no matter which way she turned. The farthermost peak was capped with snow and served as a beacon to point her in the right direction home. She couldn’t remember the last time she had walked anywhere other than across the street to Celeste’s. In L.A., it just wasn’t done. But it felt good to breathe in the fresh, clean air, and to be free like that.

She had made it through her first day of work. It had been a good first day and she was beginning to feel like she could do this. She could make it through the summer.

“Hey! Molly?” a girl’s voice called out. “Is that you?”

Molly turned around and saw Sylvia biking toward her, her red hair flowing loose behind her like a cape. She glided to a stop and pulled her bike up on the curb. “Where you going?”

“Home,” Molly said. It wasn’t really home, but she didn’t know how else to describe it. “We’re staying in Boulder Canyon.”

“That’s where I live,” Sylvia said. “You want a ride?”

“Um, no, that’s okay,” Molly declined, trying to figure out how that could possibly work. “I’m not very good on bikes.”

“It’s easy, I’ll show you.” Sylvia stood up and steadied the bike by holding the handlebars. “If you sit sideways here,” she said, motioning to the flat rack behind her seat, “you can hold on to me and I’ll do all the work.”

“Okay,” Molly capitulated. She hoisted herself onto the rack and wrapped her arms around Sylvia’s waist. “Tell me if I squeeze too hard.”

“Don’t worry. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

As the bike started moving, Molly thought she was going to slide off and pull Sylvia down with her. Once she got used to the bumpy rhythm, she relaxed enough to loosen her grip around Sylvia’s waist and enjoy the breeze whipping past her. Molly might not have been the one technically riding the bike, but she was at least sitting on one, which was a step in the right direction. She couldn’t wait to tell Charlie. It was strange that after knowing him for only two days, there was already something that she only wanted to share with him.

“Which way?” Sylvia asked as they approached an intersection.

Molly looked up at the mountains. “Left here and then it’s your third right.”

“Where now?” Sylvia asked, turning onto Molly’s street.

“Keep going a little farther,” Molly instructed. “Okay, slow down…and stop…here,” she said, sliding off the rack and hopping up onto the sidewalk in front of the house.

“
This
is where you’re staying?” Sylvia asked, still straddling the bike.

“Yeah, you want to come in?”

“Um, sure,” Sylvia said, slowly getting off the bike and walking it up the driveway and leaning it against the side of the house. She hesitated by the entrance.

“Come in!” Molly said, holding the front door open for her. “Don’t worry, nobody’s home.”

Sylvia came in and Molly led the way upstairs. When she turned on the lights in her room, Sylvia gasped and retreated into the hallway.

“Hey! Are you okay?” Molly asked. “You look really pale.”

“I’m sorry,” Sylvia said. “This is just…I can’t be here.”

“What is it?” Molly asked, trying to decipher what had just happened. “I don’t understand.”

“This house…that room,” Sylvia muttered, backing away. “It’s Charlie’s.”

Molly felt a smile spread across her face. “Yes, it is! Do you two know each other?” Her brain suddenly flooded with questions. She wanted to ask,
How tall is he? What’s his favorite song? Is he really as good on his bike as he says?

Sylvia swallowed noisily, a strangled sob. “Charlie Richards is my ex-boyfriend.”

Molly reeled. Sylvia’s boyfriend, the total jerk, was Charlie?
Her
Charlie?

Sylvia ran down the stairs and out the door. “I’m so sorry,” Molly whispered as she watched her go.

• • •

When Molly came back to the room she went straight for her laptop. She had been waiting to check her e-mail all day, hoping to hear from Charlie. But now that there was a new message from him in her inbox, she felt sick to her stomach. As much as she wanted to believe that he was genuinely interested in her, that a guy like him
could
be interested in her, now she had every reason not to. The whole situation was better left alone. If not, there was one thing she could count on—getting hurt. Guys like Charlie were all the same.

Molly opened his e-mail. When she finished reading it, instead of clicking on the reply button, she hit delete.

Celeste’s BMW SUV pulled up behind a line of other BMWs, Audis, and Mercedes idling at a valet stand. “I thought you said this was a barbecue,” Charlie remarked, as two men in red vests appeared on either side of the car and opened their doors. The man on the driver’s side handed Celeste a ticket in exchange for her keys.

“It is.” She locked arms with Charlie and walked toward the fifteen-foot gate enclosing the house. “Welcome to Hollywood.”

A man in a black suit emerged from the guardhouse to the left with a pen and a clipboard. Celeste met him halfway and spent the next five minutes convincing him that she was “on the list.” She was the most presumptuous person Charlie had ever met, but she was effective. He had to give her that. In moments, the gate opened and they walked through.

“Good friend of yours?” Charlie teased.

“Technicalities.” Celeste shrugged. “Just follow me.”

“Wow,” Charlie said, as a football-field—size lawn spread out before them. The grass gradually sloped up to a whitewashed Spanish hacienda with a red-tiled roof.

This wasn’t just any house, he thought. It was an honest-to-goodness mansion.

“This way.” Celeste led Charlie up the grassy hill and around the side of the house. A DJ stood behind a table, blasting hip-hop remixes while at least a hundred people congregated around the pool and the garden beyond.

“So what do you think?” Celeste asked, scanning the crowd. A waitress in a skimpy miniskirt darted past, balancing a tray of tequila shots above her head.

“Very intimate,” Charlie said with a smirk. “Just what comes to mind when I think ‘summer barbecue among friends.’”

“So is that what you do in Boulder?” Celeste asked. “Try to impress the girls with sarcasm?”

“You nailed it. That’s me.” He paused. “How’s it working out so far?”

“I’ll let you know after I have a drink.” She took off toward the outdoor bar by the pool.

Charlie watched her go.

“Aren’t you coming?”

He started toward her just as some guy she seemed to know swept her onto the dance floor. She jumped right into the beat, shimmying her body against his, with her eyes locked on Charlie the whole time. There was no denying it was kind of hot.

When the song was over, she kissed the guy on the cheek and headed back toward Charlie, silently brushing past him as she continued on to the bar. Within thirty seconds she was flirting with some other guy at the front
of the line, trying to convince him to let her cut in. She caught Charlie’s eye and motioned for him to join her, but something was holding him back.

“I’ll be over here,” he called out.

He wandered off along the perimeter of the garden toward a large empty patio on the other side of the house. The deck extended twenty feet beyond the grass, giving him the feeling that he was floating over the canyon below. He stood watching as the sun disappeared behind the peak on the other side of the canyon, spotting the sky pink over the brightening city lights.

Celeste was probably wondering where he’d gone, but he didn’t care. For some reason, all he could think about was Molly.

• • •