Entice Me (Stark Trilogy #3.11)(8)

“Sex toys,” Jamie says, when I tell the girls my dilemma. We’re drinking mimosas on the rooftop patio as the guys hang out on the lawn doing manly things with the grill and supervising Ronnie on the swingset.

“What?” Jamie asks as everyone turns to stare her. “I bet he’d totally appreciate an imaginative sex toy. I know Ryan did,” she adds with a wink.

“But what could I buy him that he doesn’t already own?” I keep my voice deadpan, which makes Jamie bark with laughter and Siobhan go bright red.

“You two are like a vaudeville act,” Cass says, then leans over to Siobhan. “It’s okay, sweetie, they don’t bite hard.”

“I’m not a prude,” Siobhan protests. “Redheads just blush easier.”

“She’s a prude,” Cass says in mock confidence. “Well, in public anyway. In private she’s a wildcat.” That earns her a shove from Siobhan, with whom she’s sharing a two-person lounger. Siobhan is in a loose skirt and T-shirt because she burns easily, and Cass is decked out in tiny shorts and a bikini top that shows off the gorgeous tattoo of a brilliantly plumed bird covering her shoulder and trailing down her arm.

Earlier, I’d pointed out that technically it’s winter, but Cass just shooed my words away. “What’s the point of living in LA if you can’t pretend like every day is summer?” Honestly, I really couldn’t argue with that.

Cass is Syl’s best friend, and she owns a local tattoo shop. Apparently, she’s given Syl every one of her tats. Frankly, I’d been surprised when I learned that Sylvia had any tattoos at all. But that’s the best part of this growing web of friends and family—I keep learning more about the people I love.

Right now, though, I’m close to disowning them all. “For the record, you guys are no help at all,” I protest grumpily.

“I can go shopping with you this week,” Jamie says.

“Great. For what?”

“Beats the hell out of me. But I figure if we combine the shopping with a few stops for wine along the way, sooner or later, something will seem like an amazing gift.”

I roll my eyes, but I don’t say no. It may not be the best plan for finding Damien’s gift, but the afternoon will definitely be entertaining.

“You’re throwing him a kickass party. Just leave it at that.” Syl’s been listening from a table in the shade, where she’s been sitting with Jeffery, who’s attacking a cup of yogurt with gusto. “I promise you Damien won’t feel slighted.”

“Fine.” I concede the question—at least for the time being. But I’m still pondering another conundrum. Right now, I’ve kept the entire idea for a party from Damien, and that’s a pretty big secret. But the second I tell him that we’re going to head to Santa Barbara next Friday, he’s going to assume it has to do with his birthday.

Even if he doesn’t expect a party in our suite, he’s still going to know that the trip is for him. And that means that even if I do take him out for a supposed birthday dinner, he’s got his birthday on his mind, and some part of him—some tiny, minuscule part of him—isn’t going to be as surprised by the party as I want him to be.

“So I don’t know what to do,” I add, after explaining all of that to my friends.

“He’s going to love it no matter what,” Syl says. “Because you’re the one throwing the party.”

“I know,” I say. “And I know I’m being way too persnickety. I just really want it to be special.” I get off my chaise and go to the rail, then look down at the lawn where Damien is pushing five-year-old Ronnie on the swings. I can hear her squeals of laughter mixed with, “Higher, Uncle Damie! Higher!” and can’t help but smile.

Sylvia comes up to me carrying Jeffery, who had his first birthday just a few months ago. “He looks good down there. When are you guys going to have one of your own?”

“Someday,” I say, taking Jeffery from her in a not-so-subtle attempt to keep the conversation off the state of my uterus. “In the meantime, I’m just going to be the best aunt ever. Aren’t I, little man?” I ask as I lift him up and make silly faces. “Aren’t I the best aunt in the whole, wide world?”

Beside me, Syl laughs. At the same time, Cass says, “Why don’t you just pull a double-blind?”

I turn to her, so grateful that she’s firmly changed the subject I could kiss her.

“What’s that?” I ask, as I go to sit in the shade with the baby.

“It’s simple. You just set up a dummy event.”

“Like taking him out for dinner,” I say. “But he’ll still know that it’s a birthday dinner.”

Cass shakes her head. “No, no. You have to back off from birthday shenanigans completely.”

I glance over at Jamie, who’s sitting next to me, but she just shrugs, obviously as clueless as I am.

“Okay, listen.” Cass stands up, obviously getting into her spiel. “Your whole problem is that you don’t want him to have a clue as to why you’re going to Santa Barbara, right?”

“Right,” I acknowledge.

“So tell him you’re going. And have the reason be something completely unrelated to his birthday.”

I nod slowly, letting the idea play out in my mind. “That’s actually kind of brilliant.”