We talked and laughed the entire way to the mini-mart off Pacific Coast Highway. I couldn't remember ever finding it so damn easy to talk to someone. Shay might not have grown up with much, but her life experiences had made her far more astute and sophisticated than most people I met in wealthy circles.

I parked in front of the market.

"I don't want to put these shoes on again." Shay nudged the high heels with her bare toe.

"I'll run in. What kind of ice cream do you want?"

"Any kind. I'm not picky."

I grabbed the door handle.

"But make sure it's chocolate."

"Right." I lowered my foot to the asphalt.

"And maybe something with brownie bites or chocolate chip cookie dough."

I nodded. "Chocolate with brownie or cookie dough. Got it." I stood up out of the car.

"And none of that lite junk," she called. "And if it has a caramel swirl running through it, I will love you forever."

I leaned back into the car. "What about if they have caramel syrup, and I swirl it into a chocolate brownie ice cream for you?"

"Then I will love you even beyond forever."

"So glad you're not picky about your ice cream, otherwise we'd be here all night."

---

I set the bag on the breakfast nook table and pulled out a quart of cookie dough, a quart of fudge brownie surprise and a quart of salted caramel twist. Shay returned to the table with two bowls and some spoons.

"You really delivered." She sat on a chair and drew all three quarts closer. "I think I'll have one scoop of each."

"Kind of figured you would." I took my coat off and unbuttoned the top two buttons and the sleeves on my dress shirt. I rolled them up to keep them out of the way of the ice cream extravaganza. I pulled up a chair across from Shay. It felt right as hell sitting with her in the kitchen spooning up ice cream and laughing about the night.

It had occurred to me more than once since I'd begun to build my own wealth that having lots of money provided security and fun, but it wasn't nearly as fulfilling as I'd imagined. Sometimes it seemed I worked toward earning the big bucks just so I could say fuck off to my dad and let him know that getting rich wasn't all that difficult or all that noble. Being with Shay had brought some of those doubts and moments of reflection back to the surface.

Her brows knitted together in serious concentration as she dug the big spoon into the brownie ice cream. A big lump popped up and landed on the table. She scooped it up and dropped it into her bowl. "Don't judge. It's been a long night."

"And you were far more successful at that party than me." I took a large scoop of ice cream on my spoon and dropped it in the bowl. "I'm curious, Shay, what will you do with the hundred grand you earn here?"

She took a big bite and closed her eyes with a minor case of brain freeze. She swallowed and dove in for another bite. "Well, first, I plan to find shelter that is not on four wheels." She leaned back and licked the spoon. She managed to make everything look erotic. "This is probably far too ambitious for that sum of money, considering the cost of living in California, but my dream would be to start a dance school in a neighborhood that's lacking anything like it. And kids who couldn't afford it, could still come and take classes. Like Miss Katherine did for me."

"That sounds like a noble plan. I like that idea."

"Now if I get the million dollars—" She sat forward and scooped up more ice cream.

"Hey, you have to admit, I've been behaving like a fucking saint."

She covered her mouth to avoid spitting out ice cream. She grabbed a napkin and wiped her mouth.

"Don't laugh. At least for me, this is sainthood."

"No, you're right, I was just trying to remember which saint was the one who liked to watch women in the shower."

"I think that's Saint Loofah."

She tasted the caramel ice cream. "Hmm, this is so good. You need to plunge your spoon in right there where the rich vein of caramel runs through it." She lowered her spoon and sat back. "Why wasn't your dad at the party?"

I shoveled out a scoop of caramel. "He's sick. Only has a few months left, according to his oncologist."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Did your parents divorce, or did your mom die too?"

I hadn't expected the personal questions, but it was never hard to talk about my crummy childhood with Shay. She'd had her own share of stumbling blocks growing up. She had just managed to come out much more well-adjusted.

"My dad paid a woman to carry his kid. I never knew her. But I used to like to think she was out there keeping tabs on me. I suppose that was easier to swallow than thinking some woman just took a wad of cash and walked away from her baby without looking back."

"It's a little like that with me. I used to imagine that my mom was still watching over me, making sure I was safe and happy, and all the while, being more content herself. Although, she knew my grandmother better than anyone. Gran-gran was her mother. They never got along, and when my mom got pregnant by some boy at a party at the ripe old age of sixteen, Gran-gran kicked her out of the house."

"Nice. So she was technically kicking out her kid and her granddaughter."

Shay pushed the bowl of ice cream back. "I've now made myself nauseous. " She rubbed her bare arms. "And cold. I'm going to make a cup of tea. Do you want any?"

"Nope, I think I'm good."

I leaned my arm on the edge of the table and watched Shay walk barefoot to the kitchen cupboard. The short dress hem she'd been fighting all night inched up to just below her bottom. She took out a cup and then absently reached back and pulled it down. When she was what I referred to as 'working the room', namely trying for that million bucks, she was sexy as hell, but it occurred to me that she didn't have to be working at it. Just watching her yank a dress down her thighs made me want to write that damn million dollar check just so I could have the pleasure of touching her.

She returned to the table after pouring hot water into a cup with a tea bag. Steam blew off the surface. She pursed her lips together and blew on the tea to cool it.

"Fuck, is there anything you do with food that's not erotic? My dick is pushing against my fly just watching you blow on your tea."

She smiled up at me. "Is that right? I believe that's what we call giving the enemy secrets. Maybe I should grab one of those bananas sitting in the fruit bowl."

"Yeah, leave the banana and sip your tea, my seductive enemy. So your mom had to survive out on the streets while she was carrying you?"

Shay nodded. "For the first few months. But I guess she had some terrible morning sickness, and with no prenatal care, she ended up weak and dehydrated in a homeless shelter. They took her to the hospital. Then social workers knocked on Gran-gran's door to let her know she was going to be written up for child neglect. The old witch took my mom back in. Eventually, she came to grips with the idea that her daughter was going to bring a baby into the world, and, of course, once I arrived, I was so damn irresistible, she fell in love."

I laughed at first. "Actually, that sounds very plausible. Something tells me you've spent your whole life stealing people's hearts, and you're barely even aware it's happening. I'm glad the story ended well for your mom and grandmother."

Her lashes dropped over her eyes, and the steam from the tea made her nose shiny. "It didn't end all that well. They fought all the time. Then my mom met this guy, Toby." She rolled her eyes. "Total goober. Butthead in the extreme. But my mom grew starry eyed whenever she looked at him. I was only five, but I can still remember that his trailer smelled like rotten, dead fish. And I had to sleep in this creepy dark closet space on a blanket and pillow that smelled like the same rotten fish. I didn't move back in with Gran-gran until after—" She sighed. "You know the story. And Gran-gran wasn't the least bit prepared to take in her prepubescent granddaughter, that was for damn sure. Plus, I think I reminded her too much of my mom, which made her both sad and angry all at the same time. Those were tough years."

"And yet you came out of it amazingly well."

"Thank you, Nash. My grandmother might argue that point, but thanks anyway."

"So she's still alive?"

Shay nodded. She stretched forward her arms. "If you don't mind, I think I'll head into bed. I've got a busy day of sitting around looking tempting tomorrow, and I want to get an early start."

I bowed my head. "Of course. Oh, and thanks again for tonight, Shay. I never would have known about the Animal Justice logo. You might just have helped me land my first official client."