The Beauty of Us Read online

  “Trevor, I think you’re really sweet to say all of those things, but look at me.” She holds her arms out to the side and looks down herself. “I’m not exactly the usual body type for television. I’m way too heavy for that.”

  “You’re wrong,” I reply, and hold my hand up when she frowns and looks like she’s going to argue with me. “Hear me out, Mia. Your curves are beautiful, first of all. Your hair is ridiculously pretty, and I know it’s not usual to wear your hair down in the kitchen, but they probably would have you do exactly that when filming the show.”

  “That’s not sanitary,” she says with a frown.

  “It’s for TV, not for serving a wedding party,” I reply. “Plus, and you may not believe this, but you are very pretty. Many chefs are curvy, and are still on TV. Trisha Yearwood, Ina Garten, Rachael Ray. That’s the beauty of television about food, the stars are all shapes and sizes, all ages. You’re awesome, Mia. Trust me, this is what I do for a living.”

  “I’ll give it some thought,” she murmurs softly. “I don’t love having you in my kitchen, I’m not going to lie about that. But if it was just one episode . . .”

  “We could start with one,” I reply, and smile when her head whips up to mine.

  “Trevor, I don’t want Good Bites TV parked in my kitchen indefinitely.”

  “I get it.” I hold my hands up in surrender. “Let’s get this special under our belts first, and see what happens.”

  “Okay.” She sighs. “How much longer do we have of filming?”

  “I’d like to do another round of interviews with each of you, and then a full day of interviewing you as a group.”

  “How long is this special?” she asks with a scowl. “We’ve already given you hours of footage.”

  “And it’ll all get scrutinized and cut down to an hour,” I reply with a smile. “That’s not my department. I just have to make sure we have plenty of footage for the editors.”

  “Okay,” she says. “You’re the expert.”

  “That I am.”

  “You’re also very cozy with Riley.”

  It’s amazing to watch the switch flip instantly from chef to best friend.

  “That’s also true.”

  “You’re good for her,” she says as she wipes down a countertop with a white rag. She tosses it into a nearby sink and leans her hips against the counter, her arms crossed, and looks me in the eyes. “Are you going to hurt her?”

  “No, ma’am, that’s not my goal in the least.”

  “It doesn’t have to be your goal for it to happen,” she says. “I mean, only a monster gets with a woman with the intention of mind-fucking her later.”

  “True.”

  “Riley’s a good person. She’s probably the best of all of us. She’s not innocent, or even naive really, but she’s good, you know?”

  “I do. I was just thinking the same last night.”

  She nods. “She’s met some real douchebags. Then again, most of us have.”

  “And it’s not just men who have the market on douchebaggery,” I remind her. “I’ve met my share.”

  “Oh, for sure,” she says with a nod. “If I’m being honest, I can be a douchebag.”

  “I think you’re just a master at defending your heart,” I reply, and she blinks rapidly.

  “You hardly know me.”

  “I know.” I shrug. “I’m a people watcher, and I overthink most things. I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.”

  “It’s okay.” She watches me for a moment. “Let me tell you something about Riley, Trevor. She’ll expect you to disappear. Most of the men in her life haven’t stuck around. They die, or they bail. So this whole long-distance thing makes me nervous.”

  “It doesn’t excite me either,” I reply with a sigh, and push my hand through my hair. “But I’ve already told her, this isn’t a fling for me. Neither of us wants that.”

  “Good.” She smiles. “As long as you’re on the same page, that’s all a person can do.”

  “I would say that we are, indeed, on the same page.”

  “Maybe that’s why you’d like to force me to do more shows for you, so you have a reason to spend a large amount of time in Portland.”

  “I already have a reason for that,” I remind her. “I don’t have to make excuses to be with Riley. If that’s what we both want, I’ll make it happen whether there’s a show involved or not. If need be, I can work in television locally.”

  “That must be a step down, to go from national to local television.”

  “The money is the same,” I reply with a shrug, and then scowl. “But we’re not talking about me.”

  “No?” She grins, a smug Cheshire cat smile, and then chuckles. “I think you’ve given me all the answers I need.”

  “You’re a good friend,” I say.

  “Oh yeah.” She nods slowly. “There are two things in this life that I’m fucking excellent at, and it’s cooking and being there for my friends. Those are the two constants in my life that I can depend on no matter what, so I’m not going to fuck either of them up.”

  “Good for you,” I reply, thinking of my group of friends spread all over the country, and our Wednesday-night games. “And I totally understand.”

  “Good.” She wipes her hands on a towel. “Now that we understand each other, get out of my kitchen. I have to prepare for dinner.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I grin and turn to stroll out, wondering what Riley’s up to, when Mia calls me back.

  “Trevor.”

  “Yeah.” I glance back over my shoulder.

  “It goes without saying that if you hurt her, I’ll kill you and make it look like an accident.”

  If it were anyone else, I’d smirk, but Mia isn’t playing.

  “I know.”

  “Okay, then.”

  Chapter Nine

  ~Riley~

  “And then I said, you listen here, Douglass Smooter, I don’t care if you were the king of England, you will not tell me who I can vote for in this election.”

  Nana is on a roll. I sit back in her dining room chair, holding my tea in both hands, and smile at her. “And what did he say?”

  “Oh, he just went on about how he used to be the mayor of some small town in Washington, and he knows how government is supposed to be run, blah blah blah.” She rolls her blue eyes and reaches up to fluff her salt-and-pepper hair.

  “What were you voting on?”

  “Why, the president of the domino club, of course.”

  I hide my smile behind my teacup. “Of course. Who won?”

  “I did.”

  “Good for you.” She reaches her fist out for a bump, and I oblige her. My nana is the coolest woman I know. Self-confident, funny, and smart as hell, she gives everyone in her retirement community a run for their money. “How is Mr. Lewis?”

  “Who, dear?”

  “Mr. Lewis. The guy you were dating last month.”

  “Oh.” She waves that off and fills her cup with more tea. “He was entirely too old for me.”

  “You said he was sixty-eight.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You’re seventy-two.”

  “Yes, and I’ve decided to spend my time on the younger men. No one older than sixty-five, Riley. These old geezers can’t keep up with me. I need them to be younger, with more energy.”

  “Why not just go for a guy in his forties?”

  “Don’t think I haven’t,” she says with a wink, and I immediately scowl.

  “Ew. I don’t think I really want to know this.”

  “Oh, stop it. We’re both grown adults.” She waves me off and takes a sip, watching me with those shrewd blue eyes that look so much like mine. “Having gentlemen callers keeps us young.”

  “Sure.” I roll my eyes, not wanting to give even one thought to what my grandmother does with these gentlemen callers. Surely, she doesn’t sleep with them.

  Right?

  Because, that’s just disturbing.

 
“Please tell me you’ve met a nice young man. It’s time you do. You can’t pine away after that guy, oh, what was his name? Rick? Ralf?”

  “Logan,” I reply with a laugh. “And I’m not pining away after him. But I’d been with him for a whole year, Nana, and he left with no explanation. I think I was entitled to be pretty hurt over that.”

  “I agree, but you need to meet someone new.”

  “Actually, I have,” I reply, and try to act all nonchalant about it, but Nana’s eyes widen and she smiles widely.

  “Finally! Tell me everything. How’s the sex?”

  “Nana!”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake, Riley Marie, you’re an adult woman with needs. Please tell me you’re not doing something stupid like holding out for marriage.”

  “You know, most parents actually do advise their children to hold out for marriage.”

  “I’m your nana, not your mother, not that she held out for marriage either. I’m quite sure she was no virgin when she and my son met.”

  “I can’t even believe I’m having this conversation with you,” I mutter, and press my fingertips to my eyes, praying for the floor to open up and swallow me.

  “Oh, we’re having it. And if it makes you feel any better, I have my share of sex too.”

  “No. No, it doesn’t make me feel any better.”

  She laughs with delight and slaps her hand on the table. “Hey, at least I can’t get pregnant these days. Makes the whole birth-control thing easier.”

  I can’t help but laugh with her now. “Nana, you are absolutely one of a kind.”

  “Of course I am. And so are you.” She pats my hand. “So keep the sex to yourself if you must, but tell me about him.”

  “He’s actually the main producer for the TV show we’re filming at the restaurant this month.” I take a sip of tea and try to form the best description of him in my mind. “He’s tall, I’d say about six-foot-two.”

  “I was always a fan of a tall gentleman caller myself,” she says with a knowing nod.

  “I love that you call them gentleman callers.”

  “Well, they are, darling.” She grins. “Keep going.”

  “Right. So, he’s tall, and he has light brown hair with green eyes, and he wears these dark, thick-rimmed glasses that are so freaking hot.”

  “Mm-hmm,” she says with a nod. “Glasses are definitely sexy.”

  My nana just said “sexy.”

  “He has great hands,” I continue. “And he’s intelligent. He likes video games, but he works out too.”

  “So he has a nice balance in his life,” Nana says.

  “I think so,” I reply with a nod. “He’s no couch potato.”

  “No, you wouldn’t be attracted to that,” she says. “And you said he works for the television company?”

  “The network, yes.”

  “Where does he live?”

  “Los Angeles,” I reply with a wince, and stand to boil more water in the kettle on her stovetop. Her refrigerator is covered with monthly calendars, each day filled in with reminders for tai chi, domino nights, bowling, bingo, yoga, and swim aerobics.

  The woman never stops moving, and I’m pretty sure that’s what is going to keep her alive to about one hundred years old.

  “Do you enjoy the tai chi?” I ask.

  “Oh yes, it’s very relaxing and good for the circulation. You should come for it.”

  I smile at the thought of doing tai chi with a big group of seniors. It actually sounds like fun, but I can’t make it up here at the time of their class.

  “And don’t change the subject,” she says. “How are you going to pursue something with this man if he lives in Southern California? And what is his name, anyway?”

  “Trevor,” I reply, and fill both of our cups. “He’s in his midthirties, so he’s older than me.”

  “Nothing wrong with that,” Nana says thoughtfully.

  “You’re going after the young ones,” I remind her, but she just laughs and shakes her head.

  “That’s for me. We’re talking about you now. Do you have a photo of him? Do you take selfies?”

  “Do you take selfies?” I ask her as I wake my phone up and find the few selfies we’ve taken together. We don’t do it often.

  “Of course I do, Riley. This is 2017.”

  “Of course.” I show her a photo of Trevor and me and watch as Nana’s face softens.

  “Oh, you make a handsome couple.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I don’t want you to move to Southern California.”

  “I’m not.” I tuck my phone back in my handbag. “My business is here, you’re here, my friends, my life, everything is here. I don’t plan to and don’t want to move to L.A.”

  “Is he going to move here, then?”

  I frown. “I don’t think so. His job is down there. Besides, it’s still pretty new. We haven’t really talked about this stuff.”

  “When does he leave?”

  “He has about a week and a half left in filming,” I reply, and feel an instant heaviness in my shoulders. I don’t want to think about him leaving already.

  “Well, I think you’ll figure it out together,” Nana says with a reassuring smile. “If it’s meant to be, it’ll be just fine.”

  “Right.” I nod and change the subject. “Are you going down to play dominoes tonight?”

  “Of course, darling, I’m the president,” she says with a toothy smile. When I was a kid, she’d take out her teeth and make me laugh. Thankfully, she keeps them in these days. “You should come with me.”

  “Oh, I can’t stay all evening.”

  “It starts at four o’clock,” she says.

  “That’s in half an hour.”

  “Yes, so you should just stay and go with me.”

  “Okay.” I frown. “Why is it so early in the day? It says on your calendar that it’s ‘Domino Night.’”

  “Riley, four o’clock is nighttime for many of the people here, the old geezers. If they’re not in bed by seven, they think the sky is going to fall.”

  I stifle a laugh. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

  “You’ll see for yourself.” She rolls her eyes, as if she just can’t believe that the others would want to go to bed so early. Nana has always been so young at heart. She never wants to stop learning and doing, and I love that about her.

  We clean our tea mess, and gather our things to go down to the community room, where the tables and chairs are already set up. Each table has four chairs, and a box of dominoes sitting in the middle. In the rear of the room is a long table set up with some snacks and drinks.

  “You go all out,” I comment, and follow her to the heart of the room, where she sets down her things and nods as she looks around.

  “They did a good job of setting up,” Nana replies. “If you would like to play, I can kick someone out of our table.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “I’ll grab a snack and a drink and pull up a chair and watch you and your friends.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course.”

  People have started to filter in, claiming their seats and gathering refreshments, and before I know it, the room is full of laughter, chatter, and some pretty enthusiastic domino playing.

  Of course, Nana has three men with her at her table.

  “So, beauty runs in the family,” the man to my right says. I’ve already forgotten their names. All I see is one man with the bushiest eyebrows in the history of eyebrows, one with a handlebar mustache, and one with a ponytail. It’s Mr. Ponytail who’s commenting on our gene pool.

  “Nana was always beautiful,” I reply with a smile just as my phone rings. “Hi, Trevor.”

  Nana smiles, her eyes lighting up like it’s Christmas morning.

  “Hello, beautiful. How did your visit with your nana go?”

  “Great. In fact, it’s still going.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt,” he says, and before he can say good-bye, Nana
taps me on the arm.

  “Have him come join us,” she says with an encouraging nod.

  “Was that her?” he asks.

  “That’s her. Do you want to come play some dominoes?” I bite my lip, fully expecting him to say no thanks, but he shocks the hell out of me.

  “Absolutely. Where am I going?”

  I relay the address, name of the retirement community, and give him directions, then hang up.

  “He’ll be here in about thirty minutes.”

  “Well, I’ll miss him,” Mr. Handlebar Mustache says. “It’s getting pretty late for me.”

  I glance down at my phone, see that it’s just shy of six o’clock, and share a smile with Nana.

  “Me too,” Mr. Colossal Eyebrows says.

  “Well, that means that you and your gentleman caller can play with Pete and me,” Nana says with a wink.

  And I was mistaken. Trevor comes sauntering in just fifteen minutes later, looking sexier than fuck in a leather jacket, his jeans, and those hot glasses.

  “Hello,” Nana whispers, then stands to shake Trevor’s hand. “I’m Riley’s nana, Dolores.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Trevor replies with a charming smile. “You have to be her mother.”

  “That charm will get you everywhere,” she replies, and motions for him to join us. Before he does, he leans in to kiss my cheek.

  “Hi,” he whispers in my ear, sending the butterflies in my stomach into a tizzy.

  “Welcome,” I reply. “This is Pete.”

  The men shake hands and we begin to play. I haven’t played this game since I was a kid, so it takes me a little while to remember all of the rules.

  By the end of the first game, Trevor has killed us all.

  “He’s a domino shark,” Nana says with a wink. “If I was forty years younger, I’d give Riley a run for her money with you, Trevor.”

  “Don’t tease me now, Miss Dolores,” Trevor replies with a grin. “I have a feeling I’d fall right in love with you.”

  “Of course you would.” Her smile is smug and her blue eyes are shining in happiness. Watching the man I’m interested in flirt with my nana is just . . . funny.

  Trevor’s phone is sitting between him and me, and it suddenly lights up with a notification of a Facebook message from someone named Angie.