“Unless you’re not OK with it,” Smith says. “It’s last minute, and if you want some time alone with your family, I totally understand.”
At this point, not only would I prefer to fist the turkey, but I’d be willing to stick my entire head up its ass if it got me out of this moment.
“What do you say, Penny?” Sarah smiles at me like she’s in a toothpaste commercial. “Oh, and you must be Martin! You’re Penny’s—”
“Dinner’s at seven!” I blurt out. “See you then!”
I drag Martin and Ozzie away before my father decides to adopt Sarah and Smith.
Chapter 14
“We should smoke some of Nana Rosie’s pot,” I say to Martin as we stroll through the neighborhood. We’ve decided to take the long way home, or actually, I have. I’m not sure Martin knows his way around yet. “We should sneak into her cannabis casita and smoke with a big bong and pet the grass until it’s time for me to get on a plane back to San Francisco.”
“Why do I have a feeling you’ve never come close to smoking anything at all?”
“What gave me away?”
“The big bong.”
“What can I say.” I sip my chai. “I took that DARE program very seriously.”
“I can tell.”
We walk in comfortable silence for a few blocks, allowing Ozzie to smell every fence, tree, and fuel-efficient car. I’ve only known Martin Butler for a handful of hours, and already I feel more comfortable walking with him than I did with my father earlier. I’m not sure if that says more about me or Martin, but either way, I like spending time with him.
I like the way he walks next to Ozzie, creating a human barrier, whenever a bigger dog passes us. I like the way he takes pictures of the old houses in the neighborhood because he likes the Victorian architecture. At least, I think that’s why he keeps taking those pictures. If there’s a string of burglaries here next week, I guess I’ll finally get the chance to call in to one of those crime tip lines.
I like that he dresses like a normal person. It doesn’t feel like having money has changed him, and that’s refreshing and a little unexpected for Southern California. Despite the suburban feel of Coronado, it’s still in a very monied area of SoCal, which means the people here aren’t just trying to keep up with the Joneses. They’re trying to outdo them. As far as I can tell, Martin doesn’t seem to care about the Joneses. Maybe that’s the blessing of being an outsider from the start, instead of growing up an outsider in a family of natural insiders.
“So, I guess we’ve got another dinner to get through with me being your fake boyfriend,” Martin says as we round the corner of Naval Street. “I hope my second performance is as good as the first.”
“Ugh.” I roll my eyes. “You know, it’s your fault that this is happening.”
He lifts his brow. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to help me fill in the blanks on that one.”
“You were supposed to be at Starbucks.” I inhale the rest of my drink and chuck the empty cup into an open garbage can. “You told me you wanted to meet for coffee and had someone you wanted me to meet. I asked if it was Dolly Parton. At the time it made sense since you’re both from Kentucky.”
“Ma’am”—Martin wags his finger at me—“Dolly is from Tennessee.”
“Close enough.” I shrug. “I take Ozzie to meet you and your mystery guest, and I end up running into my dad and meeting Smith and his shiny new girlfriend instead. That’s why this is all your fault.”
“Well, when you put it like that, I guess it is.” He clears his throat. “Seeing as how you have Smith’s number, maybe you can tell him you’re not comfortable with them coming to dinner. He did say that it was up to you.”
“People don’t mean that when they say it, at least not in my experience. Plus, if my dad found out I revoked his invitation, he’d be upset with me because a Banks never goes back on their word. I need a solid twenty-four-hour stretch without fighting with my dad if I have any hope of getting a loan for the Smut Coven.”
He quirks his brow. “Listen, you can’t use the phrase Smut Coven without giving me some details.”
I give Martin the details. In the time that it takes us to walk around my neighborhood block twice, I fill Martin in on everything. I tell him about the girls and the books they write. I tell him about the night we found the perfect building with the big sunny windows that were practically begging to have someone sit next to them and read. I tell him how Jackie helped us build a business plan. She’s a Virgo, so numbers are her thing. Chelsey’s a Cancer, so she’ll make sure the place is beautiful and homey. It’ll be the kind of store people will want to spend hours in and tell their friends about.