Chapter 8
Sandy stood in her small kitchen, cradling the phone against her ear. The smooth elevator music suddenly made her long for the long nights of sleep she had been lacking since she had said good-bye to Walter. Information wasn’t providing what she needed. Apparently, no Walter Lafferty ever lived at the address he had given her, and of course, she had never questioned it prior to the break up, since they had always gone to her place. She liked that. It gave her some semblance of control, especially where she usually avoided her own room and just kept things restricted to the guest room, which could be redecorated a hell of a lot easier. Sandy sighed as yet another sappy love song played over the phone. Wearily, she contemplated hanging up the phone and trying to forget all about Walter Lafferty and Information, but part of her wasn’t ready to let him go yet. So, she waited.
“Miss? Are you there?” A young man’s voice came over the line.
“Yeah, I’m still here.”
“Thanks for waiting. Sorry it took so long. We have a Walter Lafferty at another address. Do you have pen and paper available? We can only give you his business office, but that might help you to track him down.”
Sandy quickly wrote down the address the operator gave her over the telephone. Staring at the all-too-familiar numbers and letters, Sandy again was forced to realize that Walter was not who he promised to be. She hung up the phone and stared at her purse. Should she dare?
“Aw hell…” Sandy grabbed her purse and keys and walked out the door.
“I’m sorry, miss, we can’t let you in the building.” The security guard was awfully polite, but that only served to really tick her off. Throwing her golden hair over her shoulders, she placed her hands on narrow hips and gave him the mean-eyed cowgirl gunfighter glare that had made her the lead in the school play in seventh grade.
“I’m an old friend,” she said sweetly, curling her tone into seductive purr, deep throated and husky, which belied the steel blades coming from her blue eyes.
“Mr. Lafferty doesn’t see anyone other than business associates.”
“Oh, but sir,” Sandy said, trying desperately not to gag at the sight of the security guard who was sure to offer her a place to wait for Walter. Damn, Walter. “I’m his most important business associate.”
The security guard shook his head. “I’m sorry, miss. I just can’t allow you in to the building.”
Sandy threw an expert pouty lip and began to turn around.
“’Course,” the guard said, taking a step forward. “I could always allow ya to step in the lobby to wait. He’s almost out of work anyway.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Sandy said, and gave him the sweetest smile.
She followed him into the lobby of the business office, looking around at the luxurious marble and ebony that created a remarkable detail and professional atmosphere. Sandy felt a strange feeling creep over her. This wasn’t her territory. This wasn’t the phone company two blocks away that she used to meet him outside of. Business associates? Obviously this wasn’t the job she would drop him off at either. Then again, this wasn’t Walter. As her eyes frantically scanned for an escape root, they fell upon the mailboxes for the business partners. Sandy walked over to the mailboxes and began to read the lists of offices and the men and women that held them. Her eyes stopped at Walter’s. Walter Lafferty, President and CEO. Sandy felt the ground shift from beneath her. No, this wasn’t Walter at all!
“Sandy…!” An all too recognizable voice called out from behind her. She turned to see an unrecognizable man. This man was cleaner, wealthier, better dressed than her Walter had ever been. He was dressed to leave, his long trench coat falling to his heals, his leather briefcase hanging easily from a gloved hand. Even the scarf around his neck was different. It was subtler, classier. But the sight of Walter didn’t disturb her so much. It was the sight of the red-haired, short skirt wearing goddess that stepped from behind him to grab his elbow that made the hackles stand up on the back of her neck. This walking firecracker made Sandy miraculously feel like a dowdier version of a schoolmarm who didn’t know much better than to wear the faded blue jeans and silk blouse she had on. Sandy closed her eyes at the embarrassment creeping all over her face.
“I was just leaving,” Sandy said and turned to leave the lobby.
“Sand, I think we need to talk.” She watched as he pulled his arms from his lover’s clasp.
“No, Walter. I don’t think we do.” Unaccountably, Sandy felt tears well in her eyes and nestle in her throat. “I’m sorry, Walter. I really don’t…I guess I’m not as good a person as I thought I was. Good-bye, Walter.” Blinded suddenly by tears, Sandy picked up her purse and ran from the building.
And she didn’t stop running. Sandy felt the tears cascade down her cheeks, but she still kept driving. She kept driving beyond Sally’s house, beyond work, beyond the department stores she loved to shop at but really couldn’t afford. Finally, when she had gone beyond anywhere she had been before, she stopped the truck and looked back for the first time in her life.
She wasn’t sure when it had started. When she had begun to fear being loved. When she had needed control. When she had started to break. Sandy rested her head against the steering wheel. She had grown up in the inner city, among those who lived and liked and hated the streets, among those that worked the street corners for money and flew away on dreams, only to come crashing back night after night, because there was never enough. Then she had been caught and brought to a family that needed a child as much as she needed someone, anyone, to love. It hadn’t been easy. She had fought the chains like a giant beast in a cage. She didn’t want to be tied down to a single house and a calm peaceful life. Peace was something she didn’t understand. She had found solace in men when she was older. It had taken time to break down her subconscious barriers, but it had all worked out. She never had one-night-stands. She never went with an unworthy guy. She just hated to be alone. She wanted family. It was like an addiction. Once she had had a sweet taste of what a family was, what a family could be off the gutters and the street corners, she wanted it forever. That’s what she was looking for. A family. A destiny she could control if she just found the right guy. She wiped her eyes. She had done that, or thought she did and it had come back to haunt her. She had just been fooling herself.
A light tap on her driver’s side window startled her out of her thoughts. Walter was standing outside, his coat tied tightly about him in the unusually cold spring breeze. Sandy gave him a watery look and rolled down her window.
He had all the appearances of a man who had driven into hell to find her.
“Are you alright?” He asked softly.
“Yeah,” she said dryly. “I’ll be fine, thanks.” She wiped her eyes and leaned over to roll her window back up. Walter’s hand forestalled her.
“Sand, we really do need to talk. Can I at least give you my address, something?”
“No. It’s over Walter. You’re not who I thought you were and I’m not who I thought I was. That’s two different people I’m dealing with now. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come to the office and disturbed you and your doxy. I just thought…hell, I don’t know what I thought.”
“You thought exactly what I’ve been thinking this past two weeks. We made a mistake. Sand, there is a lot about me that you don’t know, but I’m willing to teach you if you’re ready to learn.”
“Walter, I don’t need lessons from anyone right now. I need someone that I can grow with, a friend, not a professor.” She reached over to start her truck.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Walter said urgently. “Sandy, don’t turn me off, yet.”
“Why are you even talking like this?” Sandy asked, incredulity becoming her foremost emotion. “You have your little doxy now, you don’t need me, the classic, ‘I want a loving husband and family’ kind of girl. Go away!”
“Not until you listen,” Walter’s voice was firm, a tone he had never used before with her. “Number one…she’s not my doxy. She’s my sister.”
“Your sister!”
Walter grinned, “Yeah, bonehead. She’s up from home. I was going to take her out tonight. As a matter-of-fact, she still waiting at the office.”
“Then you better get to her,” Sandy said softly. “Walter, please. I’m sorry. This was a mistake.”
“Sandy, stop turning off to me. The only mistake I made was not telling you the truth from the get go, but you needed someone that you could have some semblance of control with. Sandy, please…just consider it. Let’s start again or at least let me explain what happened the first time.”
Sandy looked at him through watery eyes. “I don’t know.”
“What does your heart say then?” Walter’s voice and eyes were oddly pleading. Sandy felt her heart skip a beat.
Sandy swallowed her fear and stuck out her hand. “My name’s Sandy.”
*
“What are you looking for?”
“Emeril. I think he’s in here.” I peered down into the depths of Nicholas’ picnic basket and attempted to find the bottom.
Nicholas had taken me to a quiet spot at the park. Sitting under a weeping willow, we could peer out through the curtain of branches at the stream of people that constantly came in and out. It was private, but oddly public and I felt myself relaxing slowly into a sense of security. He was still weird, of that I was convinced. My idea of a picnic was peanut butter and jelly and an apple. Nicholas did things a little different, with seafood salad, strawberries, white chocolate truffles and champagne. Granted, there was nothing wrong with any of it, except the thirty pounds that were bound to spontaneously spring onto my hips, but who planned a picnic like that anyway, and who was I to deny myself such decadence?
“Sally…”
“No, really…I think he’s in here. That, or you kidnapped some poor sop, shrunk his little bitty head and stuck him in here because I know you didn’t cook this.”
Nicholas raised one eyebrow at me and replied dubiously, “Of course I cooked it.”
I closed the lid of the basket and raised my eyes innocently to the blue sky skimming lazily overhead. I could hear Nicholas struggling not to laugh beside me.
“Sally…” Nicholas sighed wearily and leaned back on his elbows next to me. “Believe it or not, I can cook.”
I turned to him and nodded semi-seriously. “Ah huh…we’ll see. If Emeril is cancelled tonight then I’ll know the truth.” Then I felt a wave of seriousness. It had been so wonderful, such a relaxing afternoon. We had spent the morning walking the park, two strangers with not much to say, but enough to make the morning drift into afternoon. “You can tell the cook I said thank you, when you unshrink his head.”
Nicholas chuckled softly. “I’ll let him know.”
I smiled and sighed. “Nicholas?”
“Mmmm?”
“What do you want?”
“What do you mean?”
“With me?”
Nicholas sighed and folded his legs in front of himself, settling his arms on his knees. He shrugged. “A picnic, every Sunday, to convince you that life is more than what is down on pretty leather planners.”
“Do you actually think that one picnic every Sunday is going to change me so much? Hate to break it to you, babe, but I really do like monotony and your entrance in my life for all of a few weeks isn’t going to change that.”
Nicholas’ eyes narrowed dangerously and he threw me a cocky grin, “I was right about Maine, Sally.”
In that instant I felt all my high spirits drain from me. My voice unaccountably thickened. “You don’t know about Maine, Nicholas.”
“I know enough.”
“Nick…”
“Sally, stop fighting me for a moment. I’m not a stalker or a thief or a murderer or any other kind of dark criminal. I’m a business associate of Mr. Farro. I made him a promise for reasons I cannot yet disclose. I just want a little time.”
I turned and looked at him in the face. His eyes were serious. Then they glinted with malicious amusement.
“Besides, you and I made a deal.”
“Oh come on, you wouldn’t hold me to that…” I said, shaking my head to the same rhythm that he was nodding his.
“We made a deal and until you find what you are looking for, you are stuck with me.” He leaned over so that his head was nearly touching my folded knee. It was then that my brain chose that highly inappropriate moment to register that his hair was dark and thick and grew in a direction that made it sweeping and beautiful down his head to just brush his neck color. I swallowed painfully.
“But I don’t know what I’m looking for,” I whispered before I thought better of it.
Nick grinned and shrugged, “I always like a challenge.”
Suddenly, Nicholas straightened his legs, his head and ears apparently alert. I felt concern wash over me as he sat up. I couldn’t hear anything beyond a lone violin playing somewhere in the park. There was nothing menacing about the park at that moment. I began to wonder if Nicholas was going to change into Batman before my very eyes. A wolfish grin curled the corners of his lips. He eyed me from the corner of his eye and began to chuckle darkly.
“Nicholas? What’s wrong?”
He stood up and turned to me, extending his hand downward as he bent in a formal bow. “Miss Morgan, may I have this dance?”
*
It was the sound of the violin that had given him the inspiration. Sally Morgan was very close to getting very curious about what he was up to and since he didn’t have even a reasonable answer it was worth finding something to stall her quirky little secretary’s mind from asking questions and getting personal. He grinned and stood up, extending his hand as he bowed gracefully.
“Miss Morgan, may I have this dance?”
“I don’t know how,” Sally replied. Nicholas wasn’t surprise or daunted by the fact that she obviously was discomfited.
“Nonsense! Anyone can dance if they put their mind to it.”
“Nicholas…”
Unthinking, he took her hand and swept her off her feet, running agilely over to the clear cement square where couples began to dance to a soft waltz played by a string quartet. Nicholas suddenly felt his heart race and his excitement grew. He looked down at the nervous woman standing next to him and squeezed her hand reassuringly.
“Come on, Sally, let’s take a chance.”
*
A chance! He actually wanted me to go out in front of other human beings and try to move my feet. As if I had any rhythm. What was that he had said about Dixie that very morning?
“Nicholas…” I felt like a broken record.
He turned to me, a queer shining light sparkling in his eyes. “Sally, there’s no need to be afraid. It’s just a dance.”
I swallowed and nodded unthinking. Then he swept me out onto the square.
*
The moment his hands touched her back he felt a jolt shoot through him. What was he doing? Suddenly, as her anxious feet began to fall unthinkingly into a rhythm with his own he felt himself falling deeper and deeper into the lights of her eyes. Suddenly it wasn’t about anything but the music. Deals were forgotten. Keeping a distance was forgotten. He had asked for more time and it was granted. Looking into the pair of frightened eyes that lingered at the level of his lips he finally understood why. Jason had been kidding on the phone, as was his wont, but he was more right than he knew. More than anything in the world Nicholas wanted to be the one to lift the icy barrier in those beautiful green eyes.
Then, the music changed.
*
The moment his arms wrapped around me I felt my heart leap in my throat, but as I grew accustomed and oddly comfortable in his embrace, I no longer worried about finding my feet. I sighed unthinking and began to slip away, until the music changed.
From the soft melody of the waltz, I felt the music change to the seductive tempo of the tango. Nicholas’ arms tightened around me, his face settled next to mine, his breath grazing my forehead. I felt every sinew of his strong body against my own and felt my blood pressure creep higher and higher. I knew now what all the Harlequin heroines had known in the final pages of those novels. I knew I was beginning to lose control. As I looked into his eyes, I knew it was the same for him.
*
Down and up. He let Sally slip backwards over his arm, spinning her back to him in the shattering crescendo. Forward and backward, together…apart…There was nothing but the lone violin of the quartet, stringing a stirring melody that became all and nothing, turning the setting sun into a whirling spiral around him. He had never felt so free. What had started as an escape from personal contact had miraculously transformed into an escape into personal contact and for the first time in his life, he didn’t want the music to end.
But it had to.
Winding Sally’s delicate frame into a final cradling embrace, Nicholas bowed over her chest and felt her breath come as quickly as his own. The crowd had separated around them, staring in open-mouthed astonishment. He and Sally looked around themselves and bowed jauntily. He looked into Sally’s face and knew she needed to escape the crowd. Emotions too potent to be real were still lingering in her eyes and trembling on her lips. God, but she was beautiful.
*
He was incredible. With each passing moment he was handsomer in personality and physique. He was strong in body, tall and well proportioned. His lips were firmly chiseled from the finest softness and his eyes gleamed like molten starlight. His hand was gentle in mine, reassuring and, the look on his face told me he was as confused as I was. What had happened?
As we walked back towards the blanket to leave the park, one thought came and stayed in the back corners of my mind. Where did we go from here?
Chapter 9
Where did they go from here? As Nicholas pulled up to Sally’s driveway he glanced at her profile. She appeared relaxed, her shoulders resting easily against the soft leather upholstery. He smiled as he turned to find her lashes drifting shut. The rising moonlight played across her features, softening them in the night. He felt his heart clench.
“Sally, we’re home now.” His smile gradually faded as he saw her struggling to wake up. Her unusual fatigue began to niggle a worry into the back of his mind. Stepping out of his own car door he walked around to hers and looked down at her. “Sally, sweet, are you alright?”
Her face brightened slightly at the endearment he had unconsciously used to address her. She nodded slowly, blinking against the porch light, and stepped out with his assistance. Nicholas’ eyes widened when she tucked her arm in his and he felt his breath catch. Looking down at her upturned face he cuffed her gently on the cheek and smiled, squeezing the hand that curled about his arm. Together they walked to her porch, but he stopped a step below her, marveling at how near in height they were and feeling his mind drift in other directions. Standing underneath the porch light, they watched the moths unending attraction to the light. Nicholas looked down at Sally’s face in the fading day. He frowned when he noticed her pallor.
Reaching into his pocket he fumbled for a piece of paper. Ripping off a corner of a memo, Nicholas dug out a pen and scribbled down the number for his cell phone, pager and apartment.
“Sally,” he picked up her hand and placed the paper in her hand. “If you need me, I’m here. Please don’t hesitate to call me, whenever you need me.”
Sally looked down at the paper and a smile quirked the corners of her lips. “‘Niccolo’?”
Nick grinned, “It’s my real name.”
Her eyes softened when they looked back at his face; he felt his heart pound like a trick-hammer (?). Her smooth fingers curled about his cheeks, roughened by time and the utter masculinity that clung to him like the evening shadow. He stepped up to the porch so that he could look down at her the way he was used to. Nicholas turned his head to press his lips against her palm and trembled as he caught the lighted scent of her soft perfume. Turning his face again to face her, he forced a whisper from his throat, which had suddenly gone dry.
“May I kiss you?”
He held his breath, watched as the emotions played across her face and then nearly cried with relief when she stepped into his arms and whispered back a simple, sure reply.
“Yes.”
*
“So, you’re the CEO and president of a major banking corporation?” Sandy asked with a feigned calm.
Walter poured them a glass of wine from her pantry and moved to the living room to sit down next to her on the couch. For a moment, Sandy was very tempted to toss the whole thing down her throat without even thinking of it, but the thought of a major flare up of acid reflux and the nagging suspicion that she had yet to experience the real curve ball of the situation made her push Dutch courage aside and settle for a clear head and a cherry Lifesaver.
“Yes,” Walter replied honestly. Apparently deciding against the cherry Lifesaver, he practically hurled the wine down his throat only to gaze nervously at Sandy and longingly at the empty glass. Without thinking, Sandy handed him hers.
“Shall I open the brandy?” She asked, and grinned when Walter actually appeared to be contemplating it.
‘No, I should be fine. I’m just nervous, I guess; this is a first for me.”
Sandy nodded, “Me too. I’ve never date someone as powerful as a CEO before. You must be busy most of the time. Your girlfriends must have trouble finding a moment with you.”
Walter immediately saw the trend of the conversation and he leaned back comfortably against the back of the sofa. Sandy curled her feet up beneath her and waited fro him to explain what had happened to them that night at the Chinese restaurant.
“Actually, I’ve had very few relationships, mostly because what relationships I have take up a lot of time. My last relationship was only six months, but I gave every moment I could spare to her.” He looked down at his hands for a moment and grew quiet.
“What happened?”
“I wasn’t honest. I thought she needed to be in control. I even changed the way I kissed so that she’d feel better about herself and the relationship. I lied about my job, changed my clothing, and bought a beat up Chevy for a couple hundred bucks from a high schooler who wanted a new stereo.” He sighed, “It’s funny, too, because all that time I felt as if we were really meant to be together, even if only for a while, but the only time we really connected where I didn’t botch something up with my wacked notions of feminine psychology was when we broke up. Does that make any sense at all?”
Sandy grinned, “Actually, it does. It does say something though that you cared enough about her to alter yourself into what you thought she needed. I’m sure she’d understand what you were trying to do if you just explained it.”
“Perhaps. It’s hard though, to start again. She doesn’t really trust me. I don’t blame her.” Walter’s face and voice were serious. He put his glass on the table and clasped his hands tightly together.
“You never know.” Sandy sighed and looked up at her ceiling. “Did you ever think that maybe you connected then because you were you and not what she thought she needed?”
Walter nodded, “Sometimes I wonder if that was what happened. There was a lot I wanted to know about her, but I never asked. I don’t want to make that mistake again, Sandy. This is me…” He opened his palms. “It’s all I am. I know you think I'm someone else, but I promise you that the only thing I'm holding in these two hands is the hope that you'll understand everything I just said and give me a second chance.”
Sandy felt a smooth warmth creep into her veins and flow along with all her little red blood cells. For the first time in her life, she was willing to put heart above the methodological workings of an over-cautious brain, courtesy of a messed up childhood and way too many romance novels.
She smiled slightly, and played with her Lifesaver wrapper. “I’m very human, Walter. I just think you should know that I’ve made a lot of mistakes in the past in relationships and with myself. I’m not sure about anything anymore.”
Walter surprised her when he grinned, “That’s okay.”
Sandy leaned back and fought the feeling of insult that crept into her mind. She was far from taking what they had just said so lightly. When she looked at his eyes, teasing in the light of her living room, she nearly screamed. Instead, she picked up a pillow and thwacked Walter off the head. He surprised her again when he picked up another of the throw pillows and hit her back. She sat, stupefied for a moment and then maliciously prepared the assault. What ensued was a holy war between good and evil. Sandy practically ran about the room, dodging the vile attacks of her pillowfiend enemy. However, in a surprise attack of sheer cunning, she lunged with a down pillow right at Walter’s back, pinning him to the floor in shocked amazement. With a triumphant cry, she smashed the pillow into his face and laughed as the room filled with feathers. Walter tried to talk, but he accidentally sucked in a feather and it took a few minutes before they could stop laughing and articulate like normal human beings. In general, this was definitely not her idea of a second first date.
As they settled down to watch a movie, periodic chuckles would escape one or the other and they would look at each other side-ways and grin and break into fresh peals of mirth.
But at 10:22, the phone rang, its high-pitched song the antithesis of melody. At first, Sandy decided to just let the machine pick up, but when the faded voice came over the line it was not the telemarketer she had been expecting.
“Sandy? Sandy…are you there? It’s Sally. I think I need help…”
But when Sandy got to the phone, Sally was already gone.
*
At 12:00 noon on Sunday morning, Camilla Washbourne, daughter of a Spanish aristocrat’s daughter and an English businessman stepped from her private jet at Logan airport in Boston, Massachusetts. It did not occur to Ms. Washbourne that Nicholas, or Nicky, as she was wont to call him, would not be expecting her. After all, she had left one message for him at his apartment and another at his offices in Boston. Confident and anxious with anticipation, Camilla fairly strutted over to the black stretch limousine waiting for her.
Camilla had been the byproduct of an unhappy marriage, which miraculously worked to her advantage. If there was an opportunity when divorce actually worked towards the beneficial for the child, it was the case for Camilla’s parents and herself. The media had loved the story, delighting in the fractured romance with almost unprecedented zeal. Consequently, Camilla had learned at a young age to smile and cry only at the appropriate moments. As the years progressed forward, Camilla had become a fashion icon and a shining example of just the kind of miracles six million dollars in plastic surgery could do. At forty-one, she was three years older than Nicky, but younger and more beautiful than models half her age. When asked about her endless fountain-of-youth she maintained the story that hard work, an excellent die, and a lot of exercise worked to perpetuate her good looks, but as every tabloid artist had said for years, Camilla was far more plastic and staples than she was hard-work and exercise and one was forced to consider if all those staples would one day set off the alarms at the stores she was quite known to frequent.
In general, Camilla’s life rolled forward with few fenderbenders and detours. The one area of her life she had failed in, however, was the most important. Despite her surgery and endless fashion shoots, Camilla had yet to snare the source of the rest of her life’s financial security—a wealthy husband. When the young Nicholas Tiori de Quisto, a Venezuelan entrepreneur that had risen from the hells of street ratdom, entered her life nine years ago she had actually allowed herself to hope. Then Nicholas had fallen in love with Alicia, Camilla’s younger sister. From all accounts, Alicia seemed relatively happy, for a while. Then things grew rapidly different.
Unlike Camilla, Alicia had grown dark from the day her parents had signed on the dotted line. In the immediate months following, Alicia had slipped further and further into her own world of weird idiosyncrasies and spent countless hours muttering to herself. She hated the camera, and for the most part kept her new insanity from the public, and Nicky, who was too innocent in the areas of love to ever consider that his heart might be led more by testosterone than actual emotion. In general, Alicia seemed to prefer the dark shadow of Camilla’s radiant glory, which suited Camilla to a T. It was only when Nicholas entered Alicia’s life that she began to enjoy the limelight and despite Nicky’s hatred of the media, he did not balk at any of Alicia’s requests. He gave blindly, accepting small tidbits of attention whenever and wherever the new-found princess decided to drop them. It was all so very funny, because they were happy, even if it was in a strange, delusional, public sort of way.
“Driver, take me to this address, por favor.” Leaning back in her seat, Camilla fairly purred like a content kitten in her mink coat. Nicky would be so surprised.
Of course, nothing could have rivaled the surprise of seven years ago, when Nicky had told Alicia the one word she had never expected to hear from him—no. In Alicia’s mind, she had given Nicholas everything, a few precious moments of her time, scraps of attention, and she had even risked her figure to give him Marjerita, who seemed to enjoy her father’s attention far more than her mother ever did. Alicia had fairly gone mad. In fact, Camilla privately believed she had.
She had screamed out foul threats, words that changed her face and demeanor into practically another individual. She proceeded to do this until even Nicholas lost patience with her and turned his mind away from her, giving everything to Marjerita, the joy of his life. But Camilla had seen the fateful night coming, the night Alicia took Nicky’s most prized possession from him, but she hadn’t got far. In intending to simply steal away with their daughter, Alicia had unconsciously set herself up to do the unthinkable. Along the slippery wet roads, Alicia had lost control and the car had slipped away down into the earth, killing Marjerita. Ironically, Alicia had survived, but her mental state faltered dramatically. Alicia was not able to move or think, and two months later she surrendered herself to death, but the cold bitterly triumphant look on her face would never be forgotten.
It was then that Nicky started to associate with a different sort of crowd and whether or not it was coincidence or if it was because she just failed to notice it, Camilla would never know, but Camilla began to lose Nicky to something else entirely, and then…inspiration! Nicky could not keep his mind on business with the older Camilla nearby, of that she was sure, and so she had launched a crusade to get Niccolo Tiori de Quisto for her very own.
Slipping the mink coat off her shoulders, Camilla Washbourne stepped into the elevator and into Nicky’s apartment, via an autograph to the security guard, and prepared to welcome her dearly beloved brother-in-law home.
*
Nicholas was still smiling when he arrived at his apartment. The guard had given him an odd smile and wished him an excellent night, but his sense of smug security made Nicholas uneasy. He opened the door cautiously and gasped as a pair of golden arms entwined about his neck. He grimaced and pulled away as Camilla’s lips grazed his. He jerked her hands from his neck and closed the door, striding over to the lamp and filling the room with light, but he had the nagging desire to fling it across the room.
Camilla was the picture of sultry loveliness, with dark ruffled hair and a light dress cut far too small and tight for her. Nicholas felt cold hatred settle in his stomach. The conniving witch. This meant trouble. Struggling to remain calm, Nicholas forced a polite greeting.
“Hello, Camilla.”
“Nicky, darling! It is so good to see you!”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
She forced her artificially enhanced lips into a pout, “To see you, Nicky. It wasn’t very nice of you to leave without saying good-bye.”
“I didn’t think of it,” Nicholas replied dryly and turned around to face the window. He watched as her reflection flung her arms out dramatically and asked coyly in a voice that shrieked up his spine in the most annoying fashion.
“Aren’t you going to offer me a drink?”
“No, not really, no. The truth is, I’m quite tired, so if we could postpone this until later,” Nicholas turned back to face the huntress and gestured that she may leave.
She pretended ignorance and replied casually, “Of course, darling. I’ve already made the bed.”
“I appreciate that, but it wasn’t necessary. I changed my room last evening and the guest room is still clean.”
“The guest room?” Camilla asked, her eyebrows drawing together in an expression that was, for once, genuine.
“Sí, the guest room.”
“But, Nicky, darling, I’m hardly a guest.”
Nicholas tried not to laugh. “True, but even unwanted visitors are entitled to a bed.”
Camilla’s no doubt sugary reply was gratefully smothered by the ringing of the telephone. Nick walked over and picked it up, deliberately turning away from her.
“Tiori. What!? Where? All right, I am on my way.” He snatched his keys from the table and made for the door.
“Nicky, where are you going!?”
He turned, having forgotten Camilla in the brief moments after the call.
“That is none of your concern. If I were you, Camilla, I’d leave by morning. I have no tolerance for those you have overstayed their welcome, and you certainly were not welcome into this home.”
“But, Nicky! I’m your sister. And besides, I just got here!” Camilla nearly whined in frustration, but he would have none of it.
“Then you won’t suffer from jet lag, will you? Adios, Camilla.” Closing the door, he practically flew to the elevator, uttering the first prayer he had prayed in years. Quietly he whispered, over and over to himself as he strode out to his car, “Hold on, Sally, I will be right there.”
Chapter 10
It was December. The air was so cold it felt as if my breath would linger frozen in the air. The snow had stopped finally, but there was still an icy sheen upon the ground and the drizzling sleet that plummeted in tiny shards from the clouds could be seen through the thin sheath of curtains I had hanging over the bedroom window. I put my hand against the paned glass and breathed harshly, watching my warm breath creep outwards against the glass. Staring at my fingerprints, I marveled that they had not changed since the moment of my birth, which made me laugh softly at the childish smiley face I yearned to draw upon the window. Wrapped up in a warm woolen robe, I still shivered. I was so cold.
Unexpectedly, I felt David’s arms steal around me and his lips rest against my neck. As his grip tightened slightly, I felt my heart beats quicken and the same sinking feeling I always felt with him flutter in my stomach.
“Sally, come to bed.”
“In a while. I’m too restless to sleep.” I kept my face turned away, forcing myself to stare at a single snowflake drifting towards the ground and trying to forget the steel bands locking me in place.
David sighed and a slight smile crept into his throat. He nibbled at my earlobe and I forced myself to grit my teeth together, which seemed to further amuse him. His hands began a soft exploration as he purred,
“Sally, must it always be cat and mouse with us?”
I pulled my neck away from his seeking lips and tried to step away, but his arms held me tighter.
“David, please, in a while.”
“Sally, I want you to come to bed…” David’s voice changed suddenly, and his hands stopped in their journey. I felt, rather than saw the anger crease his face.
“I need my space tonight,” I whispered, and swallowed the tears that somehow always managed to creep into my throat and eyes.
David’s laughter became harsh. “Well, there’s a big surprise. Dammit to hell, Sally, what’s wrong with you?”
*
“Sandy, what’s wrong?”
“It’s Sally…something’s happened. I'm sorry, but I’ve got to go.” She went looking for her keys, but Walter’s hands forestalled her.
“We’ll take my car. Let’s go.”
Two minutes later Walter was beginning to regret his benevolence.
“Sandy, getting stopped for speeding isn’t going to get us there any faster,” Walter said calmly, gripping the handle at the top of his car door and holding on with all the strength he could muster.
“I’ve got to get to Sally. If any cop stops me helping my friend, I’ll have him arrested. Better yet, you can pay him off. You’re a CEO, you can do that, right?” Sandy hit the gas a little harder and blew through a yellow light. Five more blocks. Five more blocks and she could get to Sally. God, something was wrong. Sandy felt a pang of fear creep into her chest. If that Nichowhatever-his-name-was did anything to harm Sally, he would pay with his life. Her foot hit the accelerator a little harder.
“Sandy, isn’t it this one?”
Sandy turned to see Sally’s house rapidly approaching. She slammed on the breaks, sending Walter careening perilously forward, and left the car running as she ran to the front door. She banged three times.
“Sal! Sally, it’s Sandy! Sal!”
“Is there a spare key, Sandy?” Walter asked, coming up behind her and looking under stones and pots of flowers as he went.
“Yeah…spare key, spare key…got it! It’s riiiiggghhhttt here…” Sandy reached into a ceramic dog’s mouth and pulled out the left canine. Shaking, she opened the door and ran to the living room, while Walter checked the morning room and kitchen.
“Sal…oh my God…Walter!”
“Comin’…what’s…shit….”
“Sally, Sally, honey, what’s wrong?” Sandy whispered, cradling her friend and feeling the tears come into her eyes.
“Sand, watch out, sweet…get blankets…God, she’s freezing…”
“But she’s running a fever…”
“That explains the shivering…dammit…” Walter wrapped Sally up in a woolen blanket and carried her out to his car. “Sit in back with her, Sand. Keep her wrapped up.”
“Drive fast, please, Walter.” Sandy held the nearly lifeless form of her best friend in her arms and glanced pleadingly at Walter.
Walter nodded and drove hell-for-leather, praying that everything would be all right.
*
I just don’t feel like making love tonight,” I said honestly, fighting the fear I could feel creeping into my throat.
“Again, the big surprise…really, Sally, where did you get so spontaneous?” David’s voice dripped with sarcasm, his stance becoming tense. I could see the anger rippling through his body. The kind face I had known for so long was growing darker right before my eyes.
“David…”
“Y’know somethin’ funny, Sal…when we first met, you weren’t the ice bitch you are now…”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered and bit back the tears that were threatening to slip unheeded down my cheeks.
“No, you’re not. Y’know…everyone said you were cold, even on our wedding day, but I didn’t believe them. Now, after a year of fighting every time I want you, I finally see the truth in what they were saying.”
I whirled, my own sorrow being replaced with freezing anger, “I am not cold! I’m just tired. What’s wrong with being tired? When we first met, you cared more about me than making love to me. What’s changed?! I thought you were happy.”
“Happy? Happiness is when two people who care about each other can consummate that with warmth and loving, and while you might have the loving down, baby, you sure as hell don’t have any warmth. You want to know what’s changed,” David walked up into my face and said with cool matter-of-factness, “Everything’s changed.” When he reached out to grab me, I shrunk away from his anger. He dropped his arms disdainfully and smirked, “Or maybe nothing.”
I immediately regretted my lack of fortitude, and felt myself slipping into another round of sobs, “David, please…”
He shook his head, “I’m going to sleep on the couch.”
“David!”
*
“Ma’am, what’s wrong…?”
“It’s my friend. She’s burning up and unconscious.”
“All right, we’ll get a doctor out here right away. Nurse!” The nurse grabbed a stretcher and pulled it over to where Walter still held Sally.
“Just put her here, honey…she’ll be fine…I’m sure it’s nothing too bad…look, there’s the doctor…just sit out here…in an hour we’ll have some good news for you, I’m sure…”
*
“Mrs. Sally MacGovern, I’m afraid we have some bad news…”
*
“God, Walter, do you think she’ll be alright?”
“She’ll be fine. Come here and sit down. Pacing won’t help any of us.” Walter wrapped his arm around Sandy and rested his cheek on the top of her head. He rubbed his hand against her arm and felt the chill in her. He squeezed her closer. “It’s all right, Sandy. Here…let me get some coffee. I think it’s going to be a long night.”
*
There was blood all over the car and the road. The tires had screeched to a resounding halt, until, in a moment of suspended time, I saw David’s car slam against the large truck. I watched as the windshield exploded and felt the impact against my chest. My breath circled around me. He was less than 500 feet from the house, but I couldn’t bring my feet to run after him. I was frozen. David! I felt, rather than saw, the explosion rock the ground beneath me. Then, I screamed.
*
“Someone get me an IV, please! Geese’em crow, she’s cold. Can anyone tell me what happened?”
Sandy stood up to talk to the doctor and followed them closely into the room where they started to string Sally up like a Christmas tree.
“I don’t know. She just called me and I ran over and when I got there she was like this.”
“Has this ever happened before?”
“Not that I know of.”
“All right. Thanks.” A nurse closed the curtain in front of Sandy’s face. She heard the doctor start talking again. “Let’s get twenty cc’s of…” Sandy didn’t stop to hear anymore and walked back out into the waiting room. Walter had returned with their coffee, but she wasn’t sure she would be able to keep it down. Walter made her sit down and forced her to drink until she began to calm down.
“I guess I better call her mother or something,” She said after a while.
“I don’t think so,” Walter replied softly. He pulled a small corner piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Sandy. “Sal was holding this when I got to her. I think you should call him. It looks like his name is Niccolo.”
*
The dream changed. This time it was Niccolo, only he as leaning over me, protecting me. I wrinkled my nose and tried to breathe, but some cretin had shoved something up there. I couldn’t speak because my voice had faded into dryness and my throat was burning with a terrible fire. My eyes burned and stuck together from days of eye crusties. Niccolo’s fingers gently rubbed them away and washed my eyes with a warm cloth. I had to smile. Imagine! Nicholas Tiori de Quisto just wiped my eye crusties! As if he would do that in reality! I turned my head and saw Sandy and Walter on my other side. I forced myself to water my throat with saliva.
“What happened?” My voice was nothing more than a whisper and I fought the chains attached to my body. What kind of a nightmare was this?! I needed to wake up desperately, but where was a pinch when you needed one?
“You’ve been ill, Sally,” Niccolo’s voice said softly. His firm hands stopped me from pulling on the chains. Why was he doing this? I hated being in bondage. What was happening? His words finally registered. Ill?
“Yes, very ill, Sally. But now, you must rest.”
Rest? Hello, I was resting. I was dreaming for that matter and dreaming very bizarre dreams at that!
“Please, Sally, go to sleep now.” It was Sandy’s voice now. Lord, was the whole world against me?
I wanted to tell them I was asleep, but the dream Niccolo and the dream Sandy would probably be just as stubborn as the real Niccolo and the real Sandy, so I closed my eyes and drifted further into darkness.
When I awoke again, Sally and Walter had disappeared and the chains had somehow turned into a network of pipes and tubes and machines that beeped to a rhythm I found oddly reassuring. Niccolo was standing beside me, looking up at the T.V. screen and watching some kind of crazy Spanish soap opera with a disdainfully amused expression on his face.
I licked my dry lips and forced myself to swallow, “Hasn’t Rosita married Carlos yet?”
Niccolo turned and his expression changed from amusement to surprise and finally settled on relief.
“Sally, how are you feeling?”
“Thirsty.”
Niccolo nodded and rang for a nurse.
I swallowed again and asked, “What happened?”
Niccolo sat tiredly down into a chair beside the bed. His face was drawn and had dark shadows under his eyes. He needed to shave. I suppressed the desire to brush the hair from his face. My eyes started to burn again.
“You caught a virus. When Sandy and Walter found you you had spiked a fever of a hundred and five. Apparently, you’ve been fighting this for a long time, but just haven’t given into it.”
“Is everything all right?” I asked, feeling my brow furrow with confusion and fear.
Niccolo’s mouth quirked, “You’ll be fine, Sally. Of course, there’s no more tangoing for a while yet.”
I laughed slightly, trying not to cough at the dryness in my throat. Where was that bloody nurse? “How long have I been here?”
“Five days.”
Shock ripped through me. I fought to sit up, but Niccolo firmly held me down. “Five days!” That time I coughed, but Nick held me until I stopped and my body settled back down.
“Sally, you must relax.”
“What about Mr. Farro?” I whispered, smiling slightly at Niccolo, who seemed to be unable to let go of my hand.
“James knows what happened. I called him a couple days ago. He’s fine with you taking a few more weeks, paid, of course, with a little cajoling.” He grinned and brushed the hair from my forehead. “I sent Sandy and Walter home. They were exhausted.”
“You didn’t have to stay.”
“Yes, I did. I promised to take care of you.” Nicholas leaned back from the bed and waited until the nurse came with my water before he leaned forward to take my other hand. He brought my fingers to his lips and closed his eyes, squeezing my hands it what could only have been relief.
I felt the tears film in my eyes. Niccolo looked at me from above our entwined hands and smiled slightly, but with the utmost of sincerity glimmering in the warm gray of his eyes.
“Niccolo…” I whispered.
He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead and my eyes and lips. “I know, my Sally, I know.”