No Strings Attached (The Pink Bean Series Book 1) Read online

  “Voilà.” Micky presented Christopher with his breakfast first, hoping that the look of it would entice Olivia to have some as well. “French toast for my favorite man in the world.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” He tucked in immediately, so when Micky asked what they wanted to do that day, his mouth was too full to reply.

  “Can’t we just hang out here? We don’t have to do something every Sunday,” Olivia said.

  “What did you do last Sunday?” Micky asked casually.

  “I told you already. Dad and Lisa took us to see a movie,” Olivia said.

  It was true that Micky already knew about this, but she wanted to find out more about Lisa. After all, her accompanying them to the movies was something entirely new to them—seeing their father with a woman who was not their mother.

  Micky stopped the dipping of bread into egg and turned to face Olivia. “What’s she like, then?” Micky had held in that particular question since she’d picked up the kids from school last Wednesday. She didn’t want to be that kind of mother, but she was dying of curiosity.

  “She’s nice,” Christopher said.

  “He means she’s hot.” Olivia’s lips were pursed together. They were at an age where they didn’t seem to agree on anything. Olivia in particular made a point of challenging her brother every chance she got. Still, the comments about Lisa being nice and hot stung Micky on quite a few levels.

  “No, I don’t,” Chris snarled.

  “At least she doesn’t have any children,” Olivia said, doing what she did best: ignoring her brother.

  Micky turned back to the stove and started frying more toast. With her back to her children, her voice barely audible over the sizzle of the pan, she asked, “What was it like? Seeing your dad with someone else?”

  “It wasn’t too bad, as long as you’re okay with it, Mom,” Christopher said.

  Olivia sighed, and said, “Why must you be such a suck-up?”

  Micky could vividly imagine how she was rolling her eyes.

  When Micky turned back around and presented Olivia with a plate of French toast, Chris held out his phone. “We took a photo at Gigi’s after.”

  Micky took the phone in her hand and looked at the picture of her family, of her former life. Her space in the picture was taken up by a tiny woman who looked at least fifteen years younger than her.

  “Oh, she’s Asian,” was all she said.

  “Can you believe Lisa is thirty-nine, Mom?” Chris asked. There was a note of enthusiasm in his tone that Micky wasn’t too fond of. “It’s because she’s Asian. They always look much younger than they actually are.”

  “That’s so racist,” Olivia started.

  “What’s racist about that?” Chris replied.

  Micky let them bicker while she stared at the picture a little longer. Lisa looked perfectly nice. She had a very photogenic face—okay, she was hot. What caused the biggest twinge in Micky’s stomach, though, was the fact that they’d all gone to Gigi’s for ice cream after the movie. They always used to go there as a family. Before.

  Micky put the phone down. She should be happy that Darren had met someone new, someone who her kids didn’t immediately dislike. This was actually good news, she tried to convince herself.

  “Mom, please explain to my idiot brother why what he just said about Lisa is racist.” Olivia’s voice was full of teenage indignation.

  “Let it go, darling,” Micky urged. She looked at her children, her beautiful boy and girl, and was overcome with a bout of nostalgia.

  “How about you, Mom?” Chris asked. “Have you met someone else yet?” That snapped her right out of it.

  Micky didn’t believe in controlling anything physical with the mind, yet she hoped that how she was feverishly wishing not to break out into a telling blush would keep her from doing so.

  “No. No, I haven’t,” she said quickly. In that moment, Micky knew she would have to tell her children sooner rather than later. Before she met someone and got serious about her. They were her children; they deserved to know. Yet Micky had no idea how to tell them. She was barely coming to grips with it herself. She would need to tell Darren first, which made her think about how he had inquired about her sexual preference with Amber. Perhaps it wouldn’t come as a surprise to him, but it would to Liv and Chris.

  “It was Mom who wanted her independence,” Olivia said. Christ, the girl was on a roll this morning. At least she was eating.

  When Micky and Darren had informed the children about their decision to divorce, they had told them what Micky then believed was nothing but the truth. Their mother and father had grown apart. They loved each other but weren’t in love anymore—that old chestnut. It was better for everyone, the children included, if they didn’t live in the same house anymore. Micky had tried to explain it in as gentle terms as possible and had tried to assure them that the pending divorce had nothing to do with them, that it was just a fact of life that, sometimes, it didn’t work out between two people the way they had both hoped.

  “It’s not as if we didn’t see it coming.” Christopher was speaking for the both of them—Liv still kind of looked up to him back then.

  It was the moment Micky had realized she was doing the right thing and that hurt her the most. She had always believed she and Darren had contained their differences, that their arguments couldn’t be heard outside the closed door of their bedroom, but, of course, she realized then, children always know.

  Micky didn’t feel like getting into an argument with her daughter about this right then. Olivia was already on the war path this morning. It was high time for a change of subject, anyway. Micky needed to gather her thoughts, come up with a plan of action to tell her children eventually.

  “How about I take you to the movies this afternoon?” she asked. “We’ll go to Gigi’s after.”

  ✶ ✶ ✶

  Micky had let the kids pick the movie, and it had been an unbelievably violent affair with supposed superheroes beating the crap out of everything. Perhaps she was getting too old for some things. Surprisingly, after they exited the theatre, Olivia’s mood had brightened entirely, and she and Chris dissected the action parts of the movie with enthusiastic voices, agreeing on most things. This made Micky care less about the violent—and frankly ridiculous—nature of the film. She was just glad her teenagers were getting along for once.

  When they arrived at the ice-cream parlor, while she was contemplating whether she could get away with ordering two scoops—it was Sunday after all—the first person she saw was Darren. Then her glance landed on the woman who was accompanying him. That picture Chris had shown her that morning didn’t do her justice. It was as though some sort of force field radiated from her, the way her skin glowed and her eyes sparkled.

  “Dad!” Olivia shouted when she clocked them.

  “Hey, guys.” Darren rose and threw his arms around Liv, then gave Chris a pat on the shoulder.

  “Micky.” He tensed when he approached Micky and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. They weren’t exactly estranged—just divorced. Still, Micky thought it was funny how things could go in life. Falling in love, getting married, and spending time on that fluffy cloud of love where everything seemed perfect. Having children and going through the subsequent trials and triumphs. Having a life so tied to another person’s, you can’t ever imagine not being with them. Until it’s all you want. “What a surprise. Please, meet Lisa.”

  If she didn’t know him better, she would have guessed Darren was gloating—but he really wasn’t the type. He was probably feeling very uncomfortable about having to introduce his ex-wife to his new girlfriend in front of their children.

  Lisa had already jumped out of her seat. God, the woman was tiny—petite but beautiful. Perhaps, once the day came that everything was out in the open and she and Darren had reached a space where they could just be friends again, they could compare women. “You picked a very striking one,” Micky imagined herself saying. Inadvertently, she tried to gauge what Da
rren would think of Robin. The thought just popped into her head, even though it had no business being there. Robin still hadn’t texted back, which was for the best. What did Micky expect? A big love declaration? Yeah right.

  “So nice to meet you, Micky.” She stretched out her hand. Micky thanked her lucky stars that she wasn’t the hugging type. Micky shook Lisa’s hand and was relieved to find it a bit clammy.

  “Do you want to join us?” Darren asked.

  “Sure.” Micky could hardly say no. She might as well get this over with.

  After they had all ordered their ice cream, sat huddled around a too small table, and had discussed the movies they had seen—the new Woody Allen for Darren and Lisa, though Micky couldn’t for the life of her remember Darren ever saying a word about Woody Allen movies—the first awkward silence descended.

  “So you work at Goodwin Stark,” Micky said. Although it was a perfectly acceptable question, asking it had an unmistakable connection to Robin. Perhaps, if the children weren’t there, she would have asked Lisa more about Goodwin Stark’s glamorous new Diversity Manager, but now, she really couldn’t.

  “We actually kind of have the same job,” Darren said. He looked into Lisa’s eyes when he said it. Christ, he was smitten. As happy as she could rationally be for him, it was still odd to see her ex-husband mooning over another woman like this.

  Lisa explained her job, which did sound a lot like Darren’s, but if Micky was really being honest, she had lost track of Darren’s career a decade ago. All she knew was that twelve-hour days were more normal than not, and that he was very handsomely paid for all the time he spent away from his family. Good for him that he’d found a girlfriend who worked the same hours as he did. And that the children were growing up fast. In fact, she pondered, Darren really was starting over. Something Micky had yet to accomplish. Though she did have a job now. And she’d had her first sexual encounter with a woman. Despite not having actually said the word out loud, not even to Amber, Micky knew she was a lesbian. At least she was no longer in denial about that. That was progress.

  “How about you come to dinner at mine next Saturday, Micky?” Darren asked, seemingly out of the blue, though Micky had been zoned out of the conversation. “I could invite Josh and Charlotte. They’ve been asking after you.”

  Josh and Charlotte were the one couple they’d known since college that was still together. They hadn’t been Micky and Darren’s best friends as such, but there was a lingering sympathy and concern, and on and off, they had spent a lot of time together over the years.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t next Saturday,” Micky said. “I’m throwing my own dinner party.”

  “Oh.” Darren sounded a little deflated.

  “Who’s coming, Mom?” Olivia asked.

  “Your auntie Amber. Kristin, my boss at The Pink Bean, and her wife Sheryl.” Micky conveniently left out Martha. There was no point in telling them about her when they didn’t know who she was.

  He didn’t say it out loud, but after what Amber had told her about Darren and the inquiry he had made about Micky, it was as though she could hear him think: an all-ladies affair, huh?

  “How’s Amber?” Darren asked instead.

  “She’s still single as well,” Olivia said. Micky couldn’t help but wonder what her daughter meant by that.

  “Amber is doing just fine. She hopes to open her own yoga studio soon. She’s going on a month-long retreat to India first, to deepen her practice as she puts it,” Micky said.

  “She’s a yoga teacher?” Lisa asked.

  Micky was surprised Olivia didn’t treat her to a very ironic Duh at that obvious question. “Yes.”

  “Expert, more like,” Darren said. “Amber doesn’t do things halfheartedly. She’s probably the best teacher in Sydney by now.”

  “I would love to try out one of her classes some time. My favorite teacher at my current studio left, and it just hasn’t been the same since,” Lisa said.

  Lisa could want to do yoga all she wanted. She could even take Amber’s classes, but Micky would make damn sure she didn’t end up on the mat next to her tiny, probably ridiculously flexible body. She looked as though she could bend her legs all the way around her neck without exerting any effort.

  “Darren has all the information,” she said.

  “Amber and I should talk. I’ve been looking for some alternative investment opportunities,” Darren said.

  He must have it really bad if Lisa got him to consider investing in a yoga studio. What was next? Doing yoga himself? Either way, Amber would never take Darren’s money.

  Micky just quirked up her eyebrows and gave him a quizzical look.

  Then Lisa looked at her watch. “We’d best get going, babe,” she said. “My parents are expecting us.”

  Upon hearing that Darren was already meeting Lisa’s family, Micky concluded that, once you’ve reached a certain age, matters progressed much more swiftly—and she was lagging behind.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Amber had come over early to help Micky prepare for the dinner party. At least, that was what she called it. In Micky’s eyes, it felt more like making sure enough vegetables and vegan-friendly dishes were served, even though Amber was the only vegan.

  However, Amber’s help was responsible for Micky being able to spend a little longer in the bathroom sprucing herself up before the other guests arrived. Working at The Pink Bean five days a week, and being on her feet for a couple of hours every day, had instigated a minor but not insignificant bout of weight loss, and Micky fit back into a dress she hadn’t worn in ages but that had made the transfer from Mosman to Darlinghurst, because you just never knew. She was so pleased that her prediction about fitting into the dress again one day had been proven, that she descended the stairs with confidence, and when the bell rang and all three of the guests arrived at the same time, she let herself be pecked on the cheek and complimented about her looks unselfconsciously.

  After introducing Martha to Amber and pouring everyone drinks, and reminding them that her cooking skills were more homely than culinary, Micky relaxed and raised her glass, content to be having this dinner at her new home. It was the first dinner party she had thrown since moving there, since leaving her old life behind. It was, though perhaps small in the grand scheme of things, a big event for her. A step in the right direction.

  “Thank you all for coming,” she said. She didn’t add that it felt like a fresh start for her to have a bunch of lesbians in her home, of which one was a potential love interest.

  Martha was dressed casually in a linen blouse and jeans, which didn’t stop her from looking good. She was probably one of those women who could throw on a rug and still look fabulous.

  “To being here with you and not at my ex-husband and his new girlfriend’s dinner party,” she added, when they clinked the rims of their glasses together.

  “Don’t tell me,” Martha said, “she’s at least ten years younger than him.”

  “Don’t be so bitter.” Sheryl patted her colleague on the shoulder. “Trevor did you a favor in the end.”

  “If you want to call it that.” Martha sipped from her wine. “Anyway, let’s not talk about our ex-husbands tonight. Surely we have far more interesting topics to discuss.” She let her glance rest on Micky for an instant, as though insinuating that Micky was one of those topics.

  Micky smiled at her sheepishly. This was the first time she had seen Martha again since they’d met. She hadn’t had a chance to discuss with her what Amber had implored her to do. Not that Micky saw much point to that now. Robin hadn’t been to The Pink Bean once this week, nor had she texted back. Micky might as well remove her number from her phone. An act she had considered doing—for ritual cleansing purposes—that morning, because whenever she closed her eyes, or just before opening them, all she still saw was Robin all over her. When she focused really hard, she could conjure up her smell. And she had no trouble recalling how the grip of Robin’s fingers around her wrist felt. But th
at was over now. In the past. Time to look ahead. Which was, at this very moment, straight into Martha’s kind eyes.

  It wasn’t as though, when she allowed herself to, Micky couldn’t see herself together with a woman like Martha. Mere weeks ago, it was all she ever dreamed of. But that was before Robin had showed her how easily initial attraction can turn into unbearable lust and… this yearning that Micky just couldn’t shake. A tiny part of her, even as she sat there feeling pretty pleased with herself surrounded by these women in her home, wished this was a dinner party to introduce Robin to the group.

  But it wasn’t. So she’d better get a grip.

  “How about I bring out some snacks?” Amber said.

  Only a few minutes into the evening and Micky was already neglecting her hostess duties. She really needed to pull it together and erase all memories of that Saturday night of two weeks ago from her brain.

  “I’ll help you,” Martha volunteered, and they headed into the open kitchen.

  “How have you been, Micky?” Sheryl asked. “Kristin tells me you lost her a loyal customer?” It was clearly meant as a joke, but it still nagged at Micky.

  “Leave her alone, Sheryl,” Kristin said. “At least now we don’t have to make wet cappuccinos anymore.”

  Just the day before, Kristin had brought up Robin. Micky had just finished her shift and was packing up to leave the coffee shop when Kristin had said, “She really does seem to have moved on, from both of us.” She’d bumped her shoulder into Micky’s and continued, “But not to worry, a certain professor is very excited about seeing you again tomorrow.”

  It had struck Micky then how quickly she had gone from being in denial to being attracted to one woman while another was attracted to her. Perhaps it was the effect Robin had had on her that was rubbing off on her and making her look interesting to Martha. Something with pheromones and whatnot. She’d made a mental note to google that, but hadn’t gotten around to it. Either way, all this week, and even still that night, there had only been one conclusion to every thought she’d had: Robin and how that was now dead in the water.