Page 26 of Find Me in California

Julia backs up toward the door, her chest tight and eyes burning. Why does she subject herself to her grandmother’s torment?

Because one day soon, Mama Rose will be gone, and you’ll be alone, without any family.

She reminds herself why she must treasure every moment with her grandmother. The good moments, and the ugly.

A knock comes at the door, and the assistant caretaker pokes her head in. “Oh dear.” Kellie takes in Mama Rose’s room with wide eyes. “Ruby Rose, what happened here?”

“She’s looking for a trowel and gloves,” Julia says.

“That’s new.”

“Thanks for coming. I have to get to an appointment. Watch out, she’s a little agitated.”

“You go. I’ll take care of her.” Kellie enters the room with a sweet smile. “Ruby, help me clean up. Maybe we’ll find your gloves and trowel when we pick up this mess.”

“All right.” Mama Rose moves a book from her bed to the nightstand.

Julia slips out unnoticed. She returns the diary to her bag and hefts the massage table onto her shoulder. Lenore’s program director rushes down the hallway. Julia stops him. “If you go outside, tell the gardeners they need to dig larger holes for the shrubs they’re planting.”

“Okayyyyy,” Paul says, walking backward with a frown at her odd request before he hurries off.

Julia heads in the opposite direction for her appointment with Mrs. Blumstein.

CHAPTER 13

MATT

Magnolia Blu.

“That’s an interesting name,” Matt says to the mysterious woman leaning into his car. “I think I would have remembered you.” Maybe they met overseas on one of his assignments. Maybe she’s posed for him before. He’s worked with some incredibly beautiful models on his shoots. She’s certainly gorgeous enough with her fresh-faced, nostalgic beauty: trimmed eyebrows brushed and tamed, naked lashes, and just a hint of pigment on her lips.

He has the urge to kiss those lips.

He clears his throat, looking anywhere but her mouth or down her shirt. “Sorry. Can’t place you.”

Those full pink lips turn downward into a pout before they hug the end of a joint. Her cheeks hollow as she draws in the spicy smoke and slowly exhales into his car. The smoke idly reaches him. She notices him eyeballing the joint. “Want a hit?”

He doesn’t have to think on his answer. “Yeah.”

He cuts the engine and joins her outside. She leans on his car, smiling as he takes the hand-rolled cigarette and inhales a long drag. Smoke fills his lungs, curls into his nose. He admires her through the haze. Teeth scrape over her bottom lip as she watches him.

She’s a tease. If she offers, he might—just might—be all in.

He holds on to the smoke for a couple of beats. It’s good, damn good. With a steady exhale, he leans a hip against his car. Taut muscles loosen as the pot works through his system. He’s already feeling the effects. He doesn’t give a fuck they’re both leaning on his Porsche.

“This is some good shit. Where’d you get it?” He passes her the roll.

“A friend.” She inches closer until he can feel the warmth of her, smell the earthy notes on her breath.

“Your friend nearby?” He wants to know where he can pick up a few buds like this of his own. The weed’s doing wonders for his migraine. He barely feels it now. He’s hardly feeling anything but the desire to unravel this mystery woman.

Magnolia takes a hit. “Not sure where Sam is. Haven’t seen him in some time.”

“Who’s Sam?”

“Somebody I used to know.”

They pass the joint back and forth. He remarks on the weird weather pattern, the lack of cars. She asks him where he’s headed.

---