“Whoa. Attack cats?”
“Kind of.” Jimothy stepped back and let Rick cross in front of him into a wide entry with a Middle Eastern carpet and beautiful abstract paintings on the wall. The cats backed up in front of him. He counted four. Jimothy knelt and slicked a hand across the back of the white cat with the two black ears Rick had seen at the salon. “You’ve met Princess Leia.” He scratched under the chin of a sleek, powerful-looking, cream-colored cat. “This is Rey.” A tiny gray-and-white cat rubbed against Jimothy’s leg. “This one is Jyn, and that, of course, is Darth.” He waved a hand at a large black cat who backed away, looking suspicious. “Kylo’s around here somewhere.”
“Waiting to take me out with a light saber, I presume?”
“No doubt.”
Rick grinned. “And are you Obi Won or Palpatine?”
“Yoda, I am. There is no other.” They both laughed.
From the entry, Jimothy led him into the living room of one of the most beautiful houses he’d ever seen. It managed to be totally stylish and so comfortable looking he wanted to sink down on the sectional couch and pull one of the throws over himself while sipping a nice Chardonnay.
“Man, what does your dad do for a living?”
“Oh, he was an account executive in an ad agency, but he’s semiretired.” He walked toward a large built-in island that seemed to separate the kitchen from the open-spaced living and dining area. “Can I get you something to drink? I have wine, beer, soft drinks, and I might even be able to ask Timothy to share some of his hard stuff.”
“No hard stuff, thanks, but I’ll take a beer.”
Jimothy walked into the kitchen that boasted the most beautiful stainless appliances that Germany and Asia could make.
Rick wandered over to the island and perched on a stool. “Uh, where’s your dad?”
“His house is in back.”
“Back of what?”
Jimothy looked up as he extracted a beer and a wine bottle from the built-in refrigerator. “Back of this house. I always thought Timothy would move in with me, but he asked for the guest house. It gives him his privacy, and if he gets lonely, he only has to call. But he has tons of friends and travels a lot, so it’s amazing how little I see of him.” He handed the beer and a glass to Rick and poured himself a small helping of the white wine.
“So, you, uh, built this house?”
“Not from scratch. You know how hard it is to get permits on new structures in Laguna. But we ripped this place down to the studs, pulled out walls, installed a whole new kitchen and bathrooms, and expanded the square footage. It took most of last year. I wish I’d known you then. I pretty much did all the construction management myself because the man the builder put in charge just didn’t have the vision.”
“It turned out great.”
“Thank you.” He smiled shyly. “That means a lot coming from you. Want the ten-cent tour?”
“Sure.” Rick couldn’t quite get his feet under him. This place was amazing. Not quite big enough to be a mansion, but in that area of North Laguna, it would sure as hell be priced like one.
Jimothy was waving his arms in the kitchen. “I completely redid this. The old kitchen was right out of the 1950s, and not in a good way.”
“You mean not retro, just old?”
He pointed a finger at Rick like a game show host. “Exactly. And I love to cook, so that wasn’t going to cut it for me. I took down the wall to an old scullery, and we added an extension on the back of the house.” He spread his arms out, pointing at the big space. “I figured it was a good investment since the main thing people buy is the kitchen.”
“When do you ever have time to cook?” Rick took a swig of beer.
“I make time. It’s so creative.” He flew out of the kitchen and pointed at the long rustic wooden table set up parallel to the island. “This is my do-everything table. I eat there, do jigsaw puzzles, work, everything.”
“And you can see the TV while you do it.” Rick nodded toward the flat-screen on the side wall of the big, open room.
Jimothy stuck out one hip and planted his fist on it. “All evidence to the contrary, I am a guy.” He laughed, and after a second, Rick joined in. Jimothy seemed so comfortable saying things like that. It made Rick feel easy around him.
Jimothy waggled a finger. “Come on.” With a sweep of the arm, he took in a massive, curved black-lacquer cabinet that took up one entire wall of the dining area. “I love Asian pottery.” Then he marched across the living space where all the cats had taken up perches on the huge sectional and were watching with expressions like, There’s Dad, at it again. Leia and the one cream one—maybe Rey?—jumped down and followed them as they made their way to the back of the house.
Down a short hall, they passed a full bathroom with slate floor and walls, a good-sized room with book-lined walls and a glass desk in the center, and then Jimothy stepped into this huge bedroom with french doors leading to a covered patio outside and a glistening pool beyond that. Maybe Rick was wrong about the not-quite-a-mansion evaluation.
The room was dominated by a California king platform bed perfectly made with a cream-colored spread that looked like silk and big bolster pillows that you wanted to sink into the moment you saw them.
Jimothy sort of danced along. “I know it’s a lot, but I figure, if you’ve got to sleep, you might as well do it luxuriously.” He gave that tinkling laugh again and swung open one of the french doors.
Rick followed him out. “Is it okay for the cats to come out?”
“Oh sure. Only Leia and Rey are brave enough. They know where their tuna is. No chance they’re running away.” He turned in a circle like Julie Andrews singing, The Sound of Music. “This is my happy place.”
Wow, it was sure easy to understand why. A latticework patio cover, all threaded with roses and wisteria that must be amazing when it bloomed in spring, shaded the secret garden. A flagstone floor had been covered with an outdoor carpet on which sat two couches with thick white cushions, a big coffee table you could just picture breakfast set up on, and baskets full of flowers that bloomed in the winter. Maybe pansies?
Jimothy said, “I eat out here, drink my tea, and read.”
“It’s really beautiful.”
“More to see.” He walked off the patio to a medium-sized pool and on the other side of it was a large guest house, set back from the pool with a walkway that led to the edge of the yard. “I’d introduce you to Timothy, but he’s out this evening.” He bounded back in through the french doors, closed them behind Rick, and then glanced at his watch. “Upstairs is a game room and two more bedrooms, but we should get going, so you can see those next time.”
Rick’s belly did a little flutter dance at the next time idea.
Jimothy led Rick back to the living room. “Hang on. I need my jacket.” He trotted back down the hall.
Rick stared around. Holy hell, how successful is Jimothy? Or maybe his dad paid for the house? Jimothy was probably a few years younger than him, but fuck did Rick feel like a loser.
Jimothy trotted back, wearing a light-blue puffer coat with a fake fur collar. Rick grinned. The first time since the pink jeans that Jimothy was dressed like what he’d described himself as—effeminate—and boy was he adorable.