Chapter 95

4 p.m. Friday

"Sorry," Regan said, as she slipped her arm around Andy's waist. They stood outside of her house, looking down over the hill toward the tennis courts while the McKenzies sorted out their sleeping arrangements.

"It's not your fault," Andy told her as he pulled her a little closer.

"I'm glad to see them," Regan admitted. "But I think I'd have been happier if they'd have waited a week. All day long, I've been thinking up ways to rock your world tonight. I hadn't figured out where we'd go but I was damned sure going to find someplace we could spend the night."

Andy chuckled.

"I doubt it would have worked," he said. "Dad and Grandma are in Toronto until Monday. I don't want to leave Mom at the hotel by herself."

"Why didn't she go with them?" Regan asked, a bit peeved this conversation hadn't take place earlier in the week.

"They were supposed to be back this evening," Andy said. "They ran into some sort of problems with the schedule so they have to stay the weekend or fly back up Monday morning. Mom had to work - and she has to replace her passport."

"Do you have a passport?" Regan asked.

Andy couldn't help the snort that escaped his lips.

"I've never been farther than 50 miles from the city," he said. "That was for a baseball game when I was a sophomore. I can honestly say the thought of a passport has never crossed my mind until this moment."

"Even when you learned about Evan?" Regan inquired.

"Even then," Andy said with a shrug. "I told you that I have no intention of ever going over there. That hasn't changed."

"Why not?" Regan asked, pulling away slightly so she could face him. "You've met and he's a great guy. Why wouldn't you want to visit him in England?"

"Because I won't need to visit him in England," Andy told her. "He and Grandma both applied for resident alien visas. Because of his business holdings in the states, they'll be granted one in a week or two. They put a firm offer on the house right over there and they plan to move here."

Regan tilted her head to the side and glared. She had at least talked on the phone to Andy every single day and he had never mentioned a single word about any of this.

"I only found out last night," Andy said, correctly interpreting Regan's look. "Mom asked me what I thought of the idea of ... her moving there. That's when she told me the rest of it. This is the first time we've talked since I found out!"

"Sorry," Regan said with a sigh. "I guess having my uncle and his family here really pointed out that we still have a lot to learn about the other."

"True," Andy said, putting his arm around her again. "Luckily, I think we have time."

Regan pressed herself to him again and put her head on his shoulder.

"Tell me about them," he posed. "I know they're from Connecticut and that your aunt is a lawyer and he's an architect."

"He's some sort of engineer," Regan corrected. "Honestly, I don't really know what he does. We're ... we're not close. I think he and Mom had a big rivalry when they were kids or something. I was really surprised when she told me they were coming out. I barely know the girls."

"Where in Connecticut do they live?" Andy tried.

"Hartford," Regan answered. "My grandparents live in Greenwich."

Andy nodded.

"Is that close to Hartford?" he asked. Apparently, he decided, the school system had been remiss in imparting knowledge of geography, too. He pictured a map of the United States in his head and pinpointed the general vicinity of Connecticut. He knew it was in New England but that comprised a lot of territory.

Regan shook her head at his question.

"Greenwich is a suburb of New York City," she said. "It's really posh. A lot of really wealthy New Yorkers actually live in Greenwich."

"Like your grandparents," Andy noted.

"Not really," Regan replied.

"Are we talking about your mom's parents or your dad's?" Andy wondered.

"Mom's," Regan supplied. "Dad's parents lived in Manhattan. Grandpa McKenzie worked The Street for ages before Mom rolled in."

Andy glanced down at Regan in confusion before he realized that her connotation of working the street was a lot different from his. The laughter that came from him surprised them both.

"What's funny?" Regan asked.

"I thought you meant that your grandfather was a ... uh ... hooker," he said. "That's what I thought of when you said worked the street."

"Wall Street," Regan said, although she, too, had to chuckle.

"Yeah, I figured that out," Andy said. "So he was a broker?"

"A good one," Regan said. "At least that's what I heard. He retired ... God, it must have been 25 years ago. He made his fortune and now he only dabbles in trades."

"And your grandmother?" Andy asked.

"Housewife and socialite," Regan answered with a frown. "They're both in their middle 60s. They're both decent, I guess. I used to see a lot of them when we lived in New York."

"And your other grandparents?" Andy inquired. "Are they still in Manhattan?"

"God, no," Regan said, shaking her head. "I never really understood why until a few weeks ago but they moved to a little town in South Carolina about 15 years ago. At one point, the Rileys were far better off than the McKenzies but ... Dad said Grandpa Riley lost it all in a series of bad deals and someone swooped in and took the company from him."

"And your mom didn't help?" Andy asked incredulously.

"It was before all of that," Regan replied. "By the time Mom was in a position to help, Grandpa and Grandma Riley had taken the money they had left and moved to a town a little south of Hilton Head. They're still ... wealthy ... I suppose but it's nothing like the life they used to have."

"Do you see them often?" Andy asked.

"More often than Grandma and Grandpa McKenzie," Regan admitted. "We fly down there every summer and stay for a week or two. We tried to do that with Mom's parents but they like to travel so it's hard to catch them. They'll all be here for my graduation though. I guess it's like the social event of the season."

"Gee, I guess that means we'll both have our entire families with us then," Andy joked.

"Your grandmother is never going to be invited to my home," Regan said firmly.

The vehemence in Regan's voice caused Andy to glance down at her.

"Did Anne do something to offend you?" he wondered.

"What?" Regan asked in confusion. "Oh, no way. She's welcome to share my dorm room in college if she wants. I think she's great. I was talking about the other one."

"Oh, her," Andy said. "Yeah, I tend to forget that I'm even related to that one."

"The very first purchase I'm going to make when I have access to my trust fund is that old woman's villa in Florida," she informed him. "I'm going to buy it and I'm going to give her 20 minutes to pack her shit and hit the road. I swear to God on that."

"Don't waste time or money on her," Andy said. "Believe me, she isn't worth it."

"I had to talk Mom into waiting until I could do it," Regan said. "She had already made contact with the company that owns the adjoining property. She planned to offer the community a recreation center on the land because they would use something called eminent domain to force her out. The day I turn 21, that plan goes into motion."

"Damn," Andy muttered as he wondered what the Rileys would do to him if he ever tried to break up with Regan.

"It was because of how she did it," Regan said, guessing the reason behind Andy's utterance. "It wasn't because of what she did. If she had told you and Camille she wanted to move and you'd have to find new lodgings, that would have been one thing. But she calculated her moves for maximum discomfort - and I heard Camille mention that she called you a bastard. Well, she's going to pay for that one way or another - and that's regardless of how you and I turn out."

Camille opened the door to the hotel suite and walked into silence for the first time in her memory. The places she and Andy had lived before coming to the hotel had been filled with noise - either from the other tenants or the street or the train tracks.

The hotel had been filled with noise either from Evan or Andy or Anne. Evan and Hurricane Anne were now tormenting Lake Erie and Andy had left her a voicemail to let her know he was on his way to Regan's house and he'd call her later.

She knew what that call would entail: Him letting her know that he was spending the night elsewhere. She doubted she would see Andy much - if at all - until his graduation. She would talk to him after the weekend but, for now, she planned to run a nice hot bath, take a bottle of wine and sit in for an hour, order dinner and do a whole lot of nothing for the rest of the evening.

She kicked off her low heels and unzipped her skirt before she ever left the sitting area. Her blouse was off and her bra undone before she closed the door to the bedroom she had been sharing with Evan for the past weeks. She was peeling her sensible cotton panties down her thighs when a naughty thought entered her brain. It was a chance to do something risque and she decided to take it. She was alone and no one would ever know.

She walked nude to the dresser and found a set of the new underwear she'd purchased that week. It was black and lacy and it covered everything without really covering anything. She pulled a pair of high heels that were also new and unused from her closet and found a pair of thigh-high stockings. All of her new items she placed on the bed while she walked into the bathroom.

A few minutes later, she walked out and slipped into her lingerie. She put her feet into the highest pair of heels she'd worn since college and picked up her phone. She turned to the full length mirror on the bathroom door.

She was looking at herself on the screen and in the mirror before shaking her head. Something just wasn't right. Camille walked back to her closet and picked out a tight black skirt and a fresh white blouse.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror when she zipped the skirt. She couldn't help but smile at the image she saw. She had just turned 37 years old but she thought she looked damned good for any age.

She smiled again when she picked up the birthday present from Andy and Evan - a pearl necklace that she had admired in passing one afternoon when she was out with them both. She wrapped it around her neck before pulling the blouse over her shoulders, buttoning and tucking it into the skirt.

Camille decided to undo first one - and then a second button. The black bra was visible through the thin material and she contemplated how she would look if she removed the bra altogether. She decided that it would definitely be worth a look in a few minutes.

It took her a minute to figure out the camera app but once she saw it was on, she leaned against the dresser and looked in the mirror again. She had put on makeup and fixed her hair while in the bathroom - even putting on bright red lipstick. She decided she might be able to pass for someone in her 20s in the right light.

She clicked the button on the phone and then glanced at the photo it produced. She decided it was too hard to see and deleted it - after a few missteps in the erasure process. She walked a little closer to the mirror and turned to the side before taking a second picture.

Camille nodded at this one. She had tilted her chin downward and her eyes looked sexy despite the camera being in the picture. She moved even closer to the mirror so the camera picked up the generous amount of cleavage on display and took a second shot. She erased that one and two more before getting just the image she wanted.

She unbuttoned the shirt to her waist and took a picture with her bra clearly visible. Then she leaned forward slightly to give her breasts a fuller look for the fourth picture she kept.

She turned her back to the camera and let the shirt slip over her shoulders until it hung to her waist. It covered her butt but she would rectify that in a few minutes when she removed the blouse completely.

Camille offered her best look of innocence when she turned to face the mirror again - this time with one breast spilling out of her unlatched brassiere. Her smile was natural for the picture where she stood topless in only her skirt and her high heels - because she decided Tony Risotti's wife would have a stroke if she found out what Camille was using the company-owned cell phone for.