“You definitely should,” Shayla joked with a clink of their wine glasses.
“Seriously!” Carrie Ann nodded hotly, bolting to her feet, the wheels in her head spinning at full throttle. “I should create a calendar with LA’s finest eye candy.”
“I’d buy it.”
“Do you think Tommy would do it?”
“You just ruined the yummy visual I had going.” Shayla cast a deplorable eye roll. Her uncle was voted sexiest man alive by People magazine. “You’re not really going to ask me to ask my uncle to strip naked for a calendar?”
“No, of course not. I’ll ask him.”
And just like that, the Have a Heart ~ Bare Your Soul campaign sprang to life. Ultimately, Tommy Clemmins turned down the offer to bare it all, but gladly offered a long list of people who would. What started as a calendar filled with celebrities posing nude, with the exception of a red heart shaped pillow covering their private parts, rapidly turned into a nationwide phenomenon.
After a few years of very impressive, not to mention record breaking, source of revenue, the heart logo adorned everything from boxers to pro sport uniforms, including the recent addition of its very own brand of lingerie targeting women over the age of forty. The Bare Your Soul campaign sparked new life into the HAH Foundation, raising tens of millions of dollars and awareness for heart disease.
Carrie Ann’s career flourished, shining brighter than she could’ve ever imagined in her wildest dreams. And so did Summer’s. Eight months after their breakup, while attending a New York fashion show with his then would-be girlfriend, Summer took to the catwalk on a dare. He half strutted, half staggered, down the runway in scant white briefs and a plush floor length white fur robe. Hitting home on all points, he carried a football in one hand and a rock glass in the other with the neck of a whiskey bottle protruding from his pocket.
Bam!
The salacious move earned him the cover of a dozen magazines and instant fame. A few months later he signed his first movie role. The sci-fi action flick turned into a trilogy and his career skyrocketed. Ryan was a natural. He toppled the silver screen for nearly a decade and, at one point, three of the top six box-offices branded his name.
Thirty came and went. Men came and went. But, the lasting image of their breakup left more than a profound rift in her heart. It crushed her. She never got over it. She never got over him. He’d tried to contact her a few times over the years, but she didn’t believe in second chances.
Not even for him.
No matter how much it hurt.
Sitting in her car outside the gym, Carrie Ann ripped the elastic band from her hair and shoved her trembling fingers through her long dark mane. Her nose and lips burned as unshed tears blurred her vision.
Crying over ex-lovers was for pussies.
And Carrie Ann Lowell was no pussy.
Anger and irritation forged its way to the forefront throttling the memories that threatened to rise to the surface. She kicked out of her cycle shoes and tossed them into her gym bag, opting to drive home barefoot. It took minutes for her pulse to settle into its normal rhythm as she headed for home along Highway 1.
The ring of her cell phone streamed through the speakers of her Cadillac CTS-V. Seeing her best friends name flash across the dash, brought relief to her scattered thoughts. Carrie Ann pressed the call button on steering wheel. “Hey, Shayla. What’s going on? Please tell me you’re here?”
“Hi, chica! We just got in. We’re unpacked and ready to hit the beach. Are you home?”
“Actually, I just left the gym and I’m one exit away from you. Let me stop at home—”
“Just swing by on your way home. The boys are dying to see you. Unless you want to go home, grab your swimsuit and spend the day with us at the beach?”
“Can’t,” she said regretfully. “I really wish I could, but I’ve got to get the final headcount approved by the Bare Your Soul committee for the Bachelor/Bachelorette Auction. I’ll stop by, but I only have an hour.”
Carrie Ann heard Shayla’s twins in the background. “Who’s coming over?”
“Aunt Carrie Ann will be here in a few minutes,” Shayla boasted.
Shrieks of excitement filled the quiet interior of her car bringing a big smile to her face.
“Go watch out the window so you can enter the gate code when she gets here.”
Chapter Two
‡
Massive black wrought iron gates parted as Carrie Ann pulled into Tommy Clemmins’ driveway. Shayla sold her home in Malibu and moved to Las Vegas after marrying her husband, John Mathews. She visited Malibu often, spending the holidays and summer months at her uncle’s estate, nestled into the rocky cliff side.
Richard and Thomas greeted her with toothless smiles when she got out of her car. Carrie Ann wasn’t their aunt by blood, but it didn’t matter. Being Shayla’s best friend for fourteen years gave her the eternal aunt-privileges.
“What’s up boys?”
“Nothin’.” they announced simultaneously, throwing their hands on their hips, elbow to elbow, as if making a blockade for her to pass.
She clasped her fingers around her hip bones. “You’re gonna make me go through this again?”
Their hazel eyes twinkled mischievously, saying in unison, “Yep!”
Carrie Ann gave the identical boys an exaggerated eye roll. “Alright. Let’s see if I can get it right this time.”
“You’re never gonna get it right.” One of them held a Mason jar turned into a make-shift piggy bank. He gave it a shake making the coins jingle.
“I’ve got a fifty-fifty chance.”
“Choose wisely or you shall not pass.”
“Oh my gosh. Okay.” Her body shook with laughter wondering what movie they were quoting. Getting into character, she narrowed her gaze hunching forward to inspect their identical features. “Freckles? Check. Big round hazel eyes? Check. The tooth fairy informed me that Richard lost another tooth.”
The boys smiled wide, orneriness flickered in their eyes. Each hooked the corners of their lips with their index fingers stretching their mouths open as far as possible. Both were missing the exact same three teeth.
“I bet one of you yanked out a tooth while driving here from Las Vegas just to make a buck off me.” She received a round of giggles and another shake of the jar. Carrie Ann pointed to the boy on the left. “Okay, I think you’re Thomas.”
Judging by the obnoxious grin of victory gleaming in their eyes, she was going to have to ante up.
“Ha! Fooled you again, Aunt Carrie Ann!”
She ruffled her fingers through two heads of blond layers, placing smooches to the twin’s foreheads. Digging into her wallet, she asked, “What’s it gonna cost me this—”
“Five bucks,” rolled off Richard’s tongue before she could even finish her sentence.
“Five bucks?!”
“Infation, Aunt Carrie Ann.” The L lost to the missing gap of Thomas’s two front teeth.
“You’re trippin’ kid! How ’bout two bucks? And you can make the difference later if I accidentally say a bad word.”
The boys looked at each and shrugged. “Deal.”
She folded the bills and shoved them through the slot cut into the lid. Richard and Thomas hugged her around the waist before taking off in a gallop, trotting past their mom standing in the doorway.
Shayla leaned against the opening as the hem of her summer dress danced in the breeze.
“I had to pay homage to the Mason jar.”
“I was watching through the window,” Shayla chuckled, giving her a welcoming squeeze. “Yesterday it was a tarantula cage…today it’s a vault for all their loot.”
“What happened to the tarantula?” Carrie Ann’s eyes fell to floor beneath her bare feet, making a quick but thorough inspection of the tile.
Shayla frowned. “Casualty of war. It accidentally crawled under my tire.”