Page 31 of Love Lessons
So I do. And we have a nice little paddle down the lake shore. Then I help her turn us around, and we paddle back toward the dock.
Everything is great until the speed boat comes by.
“Oh no!” Vera clenches up immediately. “Is he going to hit us?”
“Nah. He sees us.” Sure enough, he steers his boat well out of our path, and Vera relaxes.
“But brace yourself,” I warn.
“Why? What are you doing?” she yelps.
“Not me. The wake.”
“The what?”
There’s no time to explain. I commandeer the paddle, reaching around her body to try to point the nose of the board into the oncoming ripple.
“Omigod, we’re doomed!” she grabs my forearms as the waves roll in.
“You can grab me all you want,” I say. “But sit down if you’re worried about falling in.”
She drops onto her seat with the speed of someone bracing for a crash landing.
Still chuckling, I steer us through the wake, while Vera holds onto the board with a white-knuckled grip. “You’re hilarious. It’s like you’ve never seen water before.”
“I grew up in the Bronx. Not a lot of open water up there.”
“Really? The Bronx?” I stop paddling because I’m so surprised. “I took you for an Upper East Sider. Or maybe Greenwich, Connecticut.”
“Then you’d be wrong.” She shrugs, and her mirrored shades flash in the sunlight.
Huh. One thing I can say for Vera is that she keeps me guessing. Just when I think I’ve got her figured out, I’m wrong again.
TEN
I Need Tutoring
VERA
My roomin the villa is spectacular. I have a sliver of a lake view, but my window mostly faces up into the green hills. And there’s a queen-sized, four-poster bed—the kind you might see in a movie about royalty.
Even better, there’s an antique dressing table with a tufted seat and an ornate, antique mirror. I think I’m in love. Sitting there makes me feel like an actual countess. And I can do my hair and makeup there, so I won’t always be hogging the jack-and-jill bathroom that I share with Ian.
Ian. Even if our rooms weren’t basically connected, I would still be thinking dreamy thoughts about him. Paddle boarding in the sunshine with that dangerous-looking hunk of a man was a nice way to start my vacation.
He and I don’t see eye to eye on much, but I’m starting to understand his charms. Or at least his charming physique. I basically have a hormone rush anytime he gets near me.
The shirt I bought for him at the sample sale is stretched out on the bedspread. I don’t like to give up, so I’ve done a lot of work on the darn thing. There’s still a half hour until dinner, so I could knock on his door right now and hand it over.
Still, I hesitate, taking another moment to check my reflection. I’ve put on a simple, clingy dress and a pair of strappy Valentino sandals that I found on Poshmark for a song. I’ve swept my hair into an updo. My makeup skills aren’t as fantastic as Charli’s, but I’ve done a nice enough job. Sultry eyes and red lips look back at me in the mirror.
I lookgood. Fashion is my jam, and I like to dress up. I do it all the time.
But there’s no denying that I picked out this outfit with Ian in mind. I want him to notice, even if he rolls up to dinner in swim trunks and one of his ancient tees. Even if he makes a crack about the dress code. I want to see his eyes widen a little. I want to see his eyes drop to the deep V of this dress.
I don’t know why. I just do.
Gathering my courage, I pluck the shirt off the bed, march into the bathroom, and knock on his door.
