"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" she said, but she laughed.
Turning to Claudia, she indicated Leandro with her thumb. "You'll have to tell me how you know he's lying. I never know when he's pulling my leg or not."
"It's the eyes. He was laughing on the inside," Claudia said.
"Hmph," Betty said, rocking back on her heels to study Leandro narrowly. "Better watch out, Leo-I'm on to you now."
Dom joined them, and as the conversation moved on to the rose garden the family had arranged to have planted for their grandmother's birthday, Alexandra tugged on the leg of Leandro's jeans.
"Want to go up," Alexandra said, arms held over her head imperatively. "Please, Uncle Leo."
Without breaking his conversation with his brother, Leandro ducked down to scoop up his niece and place her on his shoulders. Claudia couldn't help but note his ease with the little girl, or the care with which he handled her. A gentle giant in every sense of the word. Despite all her deeply held beliefs about herself and children, she felt a definite twinge from her ovaries. What was it about big, masculine men and little kids? It was like catnip for female hormones, and even she was not immune. Shaking off the stupid moment, she tuned back into the conversation.
The sun moved across the sky, and before long she was holding a plate and standing in line with the rest of the family, waiting to help herself to the buffet laid out along one side of the courtyard. Leandro stood behind her, talking to one of his uncles, and she automatically plucked his plate from his hand when it became clear he was too absorbed to focus on serving himself. Making sure she gave him plenty of the spit-roasted meat, she loaded his plate up with salads and topped the lot with some fresh pita rounds. Leandro patted her backside in thanks, and Claudia became aware of the sensation that she was being watched. Glancing around, she locked eyes with Leandro's mother. The older woman smiled warmly, and Claudia frowned. She felt like such a fraud, being here with Leandro. Not only did he think they had a future, but his family did, too. And they were all wrong.
Filling her own plate, she joined Leandro at a trestle table and got sucked into a raucous, laughter-filled discussion about the latest World Cup soccer match. She surprised several of Leandro's male cousins with her wide ranging knowledge of the players and stats, and Leandro sat smiling at her goofily as if she were a prize poodle he'd brought along to do tricks. Ignoring the fact that his approval, ridiculous as it was, made her hum with pleasure, she concentrated on the flavors of the meal in front of her.
They were the flavors of her childhood, familiar and beloved-tender slices of roast lamb, spicy dolmades, salty taramasalata, olives, feta cheese and crispy calamari with fresh lemon juice and pepper. As the meal wore on, and the laughs kept coming, Claudia forgot about the difficult conversation she was yet to have with Leandro. She forgot about feeling like a fraud, about being there under false pretenses.
She laughed, she teased Leandro and his cousins and was teased in return, she gossiped about Hollywood stars with the women, and promised to do her level best to increase the quota of shirtless scenes on Ocean Boulevard to make their daytime viewing a little spicier. When the tables were pushed to one side and the bazoukis brought out, she clapped along with everyone else and even allowed herself to be drawn into the dancing. She knew the steps-of course she knew the steps-and she was soon regretting her high heels. Seeing her dilemma, Leandro dropped to his knees and undid the delicate buckles on her sandals, and everyone howled with approval.
As the sun began its slow slide toward the horizon, the sweet trays appeared with the traditional honey-sweet baklava, loukamades, custards, chocolate-covered almonds and more. She drank strong Greek coffee, listened as Leandro's mother read the coffee grounds and prophesied good luck in love in her future, and entertained Betty's young son while Betty cleaned up Alexandra's honey-smeared face and dress.
But mostly Claudia watched Leandro. She had a hard time keeping her eyes off him at the best of times, and seeing him in his element only made him more charismatic. It wasn't because he was the tallest man there, although a few of his cousins rivaled him for height. It was everything about him-his laugh, deep and contagious, the mischievous sparkle in his eye, the careless grace of his big body. Slowly she realized she wasn't the only one drawn to him. His cousins applied to him to resolve disputes, his brothers and sisters deferred to him, his mother gazed at him with adoring eyes. He was like the unofficial king of the family, and they all wanted to bask in his reflected glory.
She was sitting to one side, her sandals lying beside her chair, when Leandro's mother joined her. Suddenly all the ease of the last few hours evaporated and she braced herself for the typical Greek mother's interrogation.
"Are you having a nice time, Claudia?" Alethea Mandalor asked.
"I'm having a great time. Everyone's been very welcoming," she said.
Leandro's laugh rang across the courtyard, drawing both their gazes.
"It is hard not to smile when Leandro smiles," Alethea said.
"He's very charming," Claudia agreed.
This seemed to please Alethea.
"I wanted to talk to you, Claudia," Alethea said, turning to regard her with eyes that were uncannily like Leandro's.
Here we go, Claudia thought.
"Okay," she said. She'd give the woman two minutes, then she was making a bolt for the bathroom.
"There is a woman on your show-a gray-haired actress," Alethea surprised her by saying.
Claudia frowned, having trouble switching gears mentally. This wasn't quite the opening gambit she'd been expecting. "There are a couple of older women characters. Do you mean the actress who plays Leona, or Priscilla?" she asked.
"Priscilla-that's her name." Alethea leaned toward Claudia confidingly. "Do you think her haircut would suit me, Claudia?"
Claudia blinked as Alethea tugged the pins loose from her bun and shook out her hair. It fell to just below her shoulders in a thick curtain.
Leandro's mother wanted beauty advice. Claudia almost laughed she was so relieved.
"My husband, he loves it like this, but I want something shorter, more stylish. I saw that actress the other day as I was switching channels, and I wondered..."Alethea elaborated.
Claudia smiled to herself. One by one, all of Leandro's female relatives had confessed they watched both Ocean Boulevard and Heartlands, taping one while they watched the other. They'd all begged her not to tell Leandro, not wanting him to think they were disloyal. And now, Mrs. Mandalor was admitting in a roundabout way that she, too, followed the fortunes of the Ocean Boulevard characters.
"It's much shorter than what you have now," Claudia said, tilting her head to one side and seriously assessing Leandro's mother's face.
She guessed Alethea was in her late fifties-early sixties, and she had the kind of strong facial structure that had aged well.
"You've got the cheekbones to pull it off. And a nice high forehead. I think it would really suit you," Claudia said.
"Thank you!" Alethea said, touching Claudia's arm gratefully. "The rest of the family-they're used to me looking a certain way. This face, this hair is what they think of when they think of Alethea Mandalor. But it's time for a change, and I'm going to do it. I'm going to make an appointment tomorrow."
"You know, if you'd like, I could ask Priscilla's stylist to take a look at you," Claudia heard herself saying.
Before she could regret the impulsive offer, Alethea's face lit up with such genuine gratitude that Claudia was touched to the heart.
"Oh, Claudia," Alethea said. "I cannot tell you what that would mean to me. I would know I was in such safe hands. Priscilla always looks so elegant, so refined."
Suddenly realizing that she'd just admitted to actually watching the show, Alethea lifted a hand to her mouth and turned wide eyes to Claudia, looking for all the world like a naughty schoolgirl.
"Don't worry-your secret's safe with me," Claudia said.
A shadow fell over them, and Claudia knew before she looked up that it was Leandro.
"How's it going over here?" he asked warily.
"Oh, relax, Leandro, I'm not grilling your friend. What do you think I am, some prehistoric cultural cliche?" Alethea said, waving her hand at him dismissively as she relinquished her chair.
Leandro stared after his mother in bemusement, then he looked down at Claudia.
"She really wasn't giving you the third degree?" he asked.
"Nope."
He raised his eyebrows as if to say "go figure."
"You ready to go home?" he asked her.
"If you are," she said.
She was surprised at her own answer. If anyone had told her when she first arrived that she'd be reluctant to go home, she'd have laughed in their face then shimmied over the nearest wall and made a run for it.
"I had a nice time," she said to Leandro as they made their way out to the car. The sidewalk was warm beneath her bare feet despite the fact that the sun had almost set.
"Good," he said. The gaze he shot her was cautious, assessing.
It reminded her of what she had to do now. Having held her peace all afternoon, she couldn't bite her tongue any longer.
"Leandro, we need to talk," she said.
"Yes, we do. But not this close to a million flapping Mandalor ears," he said.
She nodded her agreement, and slid into his car. She grew more and more tense as they neared her house and she ran over the words she'd convinced herself she needed to say.
He helped her out of his car, and as she looked up to thank him she put her foot down on something cold and sharp. "Ow!"
She lifted her foot to find a shard from a broken soda bottle on the sidewalk and blood welling from a cut in her foot.
"Here," Leandro said, bending down to scoop her into his arms.
Sliding a hand around his neck, she winced with pain as he strode up her garden path to her front door. Within seconds they were in her house and he had placed her on the kitchen counter and was examining her grubby sole.
"I don't think there's any glass in there still," he said.
"No, it was just that one big piece," she agreed.
He disappeared into the hallway then, and she heard him rummaging in her bathroom. He returned with her first aid kit, along with a washcloth. Pulling one of her kitchen chairs in front of her, he took her foot in hand again.
"It's a bit dirty," she apologized.
Shrugging his lack of concern, he reached across to run the washcloth under the tap, then gently wiped her foot clean.
"Not hurting?" he asked as he dabbed gently near the cut itself.
She shook her head, something inside her expanding warmly at the great care he was exerting to mend her hurt.
"I'm going to put some antiseptic on now-that bit might sting," he said, unscrewing a small bottle from her kit.
"I'm tough," she said, and he squeezed her ankle in response.
She hissed out a breath, however, when he dabbed the cut, jerking her leg back instinctively. He maintained his warm, firm grip on her ankle until he'd put a bandage on the cut, but the glance he gave her afterward was full of regret.
"Sorry," he said simply.
She stared at him, getting lost in his eyes, admitting to herself a truth that had been growing inside her for weeks.
She was in love with Leandro.
So much for flings and fun and light and breezy. So much for conquering her fear and taking what she wanted and doing it her way.
"I was going to break up with you tonight," she said.
"I know," he said.
They stared at each other for a beat, tension crackling between them.
"I didn't mean for this to happen," she said.
"Me, either. But it did. And I'm glad." He slid his hand farther up her calf, his palm hot against her skin.
"What do you want from me?" she whispered, her hands gripping the edge of the counter as though her life depended on it.
"This. What we have now, and to know that we have a future," he said. "To have the right to come home to you. To plan with you. All the usual stuff."
She closed her eyes. All the usual stuff.
All the stuff that scared the living shit out of her. Routine and domesticity and expectations and obligations.
When she opened her eyes again, he was waiting patiently, his gaze unwavering.
"I don't know if I can do all that, Leandro," she said faintly. "I know that this is about more than sex, that we've moved beyond that and there's more between us now. But I don't know where it can go."
"It's not something we have to decide right now," he said quickly. "Can't we just keep doing what we've been doing? Except that I'm allowed to buy you gifts and show that I care about you without you freaking out?"
She managed a wry little smile.
"You can read me like a book, is that it?" she said.
"Something like that."
He stood, moving close to take her in his arms. She spread her thighs wide so he could stand within their embrace.
"This is a good thing," he said as he framed her face with his hands. "Only a fool would throw it away."
"And I'm not a fool?" she asked, drowning in his eyes.
"You're the smartest woman I know," he said.
He kissed her, and for the first time she allowed herself to feel the full magic of being treasured by such a special man. She realized with a rush of panic that she was going to do this-she was going to throw all her caution to the winds and allow this thing between them to have its head and rampage its way through her life.
For a moment she was awash in fear, but then the flick of his tongue against hers and the slide of his hand over her breast and the growing heat between her thighs pushed everything else away.
He carried her to the bedroom and they made slow, languorous love on her bed, staring into each other's eyes, caressing each other with new intensity. Afterward, she lay wrapped in his arms and marveled that after all her years of careful planning, she'd slipped up so spectacularly.
Somehow, though, in the aftermath of her day with his family, it didn't feel like such a disaster.
She didn't see the light blinking on her answering machine until after he'd left, explaining he had an early-morning location scout the next day despite it being a Sunday. She pressed the message button absently, her fingers rising to her lips as she remembered Leandro's kisses.
"Claudia," Cosmo said over the speaker. He sounded serious, and instantly she tensed, her gaze zeroing in on the answering machine. "Mom has gone missing. Dad and I have been out looking, but she's not in any of the usual places. She might turn up at your place. Call me."
The message ended with a clatter, as though her brother had dropped the phone before returning it to its cradle.
Snatching up her own phone, she shot a glance at the wall clock. It was past ten, but this was important and she dialed a number that she hadn't needed for nearly three years.