Her father would be home any minute and she needed to be there to greet him. She nearly sprinted to her car, a white Smart-Car for-two, and leapt in. Slamming the door behind her, tossing her shopping bag and recycled-juice-wrapper-purse into the seat next to her and backing out of her parking space as quickly as law-abidingly-possible. In a few minutes she pulled into the garage of her family’s Santa Monica ‘Tiffany’s box blue’ beach home, once she scanned around the large space she breathed a sigh of relief as her father’s Mercedes was not in the garage. Climbing out of the little car she slung her purchases, and purse into the crook of her arm before walking up the stairs that led to the living room. Passing through the airy all white furnished room she climbed even more stairs to reach her loft bedroom. The space was massive, framed by windows, with a large walk in closet, and uniquely decorated. With the white Japanese style floor bed, all glass desk (with her Macbook sitting. Addison meandered into the kitchen a half hour later, her hair mussed, still wearing her Pepe Le Pew nightshirt. She smiled a greeting and rose dusted her cheeks. She poured herself a glass of orange juice.“Addie, you lied to me,” I said gently.She leaned against the kitchen counter, sipped her orange juice while studying me. Then she nodded.“Why?” I asked.“Because I wanted to kiss you.” I could see doubt rise in her dark grey eyes.“It was the best kiss ever,” I said without changing expression.Addison registered shock, then delight, a smile forming, her enchanting eyes twinkling. Her body relaxed. She sipped her orange juice.“So, you’re not angry?” she finally asked.“Oh, I’m angry,” I assured her, her face falling. “You lied to me. You’re the only person in my world and you lied to me.”“I thought you liked the kiss.”“I loved the kiss, honey. And if you promise never to lie to me again, I’ll gladly give you as many as you want. But I need to be able to trust someone and that someone.
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