Sunday was bright, sunny and clear. Annabelle took a towel, a bottle of sun tan lotion and her sunglasses and walked down to the beach. She spotted the guys right away. “Hi!” She waved.
Micky looked up and saw her, his eyes almost popping out of his head. She was wearing a black one-piece suit that showed off every curve. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail and diamond stud earrings twinkled in her ears. He felt his throat suddenly go dry, “Hey.”
They stared at each other while Peter and Davy ran over snapping them both back into reality. “Hey Annabelle.” Davy chuckled at the surprised looks on their faces. “We were just about to get a game of volleyball going, wanna join us?”
“Yes, sure.” She blushed. “Just give me a minute to put some lotion on.”
“What about you, Mick?” Peter asked.
“Yeah, I’ll be right there.” He answered his eyes still on Annabelle.
“Okay, come on, Petah.” Davy grabbed the ball off of the ground and they ran down to the net.
“Annabelle…” Micky started.
“Look, Micky, I want us to be friends.” She tried to smile. “But that’s all we can be.”
He stood up and held his hand out. “Okay, we’ll be friends.”
She shook his hand with a laugh. “Thank you.”
“That offer for dinner still stands.” He winked. “Just as friends.”
She thought for a moment, “Okay, I’d like that.”
“Great.” He ran down to meet the others.
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After the volleyball game and a swim, Annabelle went home to shower and change for dinner. Micky picked her up in the Monkeemobile and drove to a small diner on the other side of town.
“How’s my favorite eating machine?” The waitress handed them two menus and set down two glasses of water on the table.
“Hungry.” Micky laughed. “Jane, this is my friend, Annabelle. Annabelle, this is Jane, she’s the best waitress in town.”
“Flattery will get you extra French fries.” Jane laughed. “What can I get for you?”
“A double chili cheeseburger, large fries and a coke.” Micky answered.
“What about you, hon?” Jane looked towards Annabelle.
She quickly scanned the menu. “A chef salad with French dressing on the side and an iced tea.”
“Coming right up.” Jane wrote down their orders and moved to the next table.
“You don’t eat much.” Micky took a sip of water.
“Too much sun today, I think. I’m not very hungry.”
“Can I ask you a question? As a friend.”
“Of course.” She smiled.
“What are you getting out of this whole marriage thing?” He asked.
“What do you mean?” She shook her head.
“I mean, your father is getting the family merger or whatever and what’s-his-name is getting you.” He looked at her. “What are you getting?”
“His name is Vincent.” She answered coldly.
Jane came by and dropped off their food.
“Is it the money?” Micky munched on a fry. “Are you going to be cut off if you don’t marry this Vincent?”
“Probably.” She poured the dressing on her salad.
“So it is the money.”
“I didn’t say that.” She looked at him. “I have my own money. My mom started a trust fund for me before I was born. But I’ve never had any reason to use it.”
“Then why are you getting married?” His voice was gentle. “Its obvious that you don’t love him.”
“Its important to my father and to my family.” She answered simply. “And he’s not a bad guy. I’m sure over time I will grow to love him.”
“Oh I’m sure he’s a good guy.” Micky replied sarcastically.
“I didn’t think you knew.” She pushed her salad around with her fork. “You haven’t asked me about my family.”
“Mike knew who you were, I wasn’t so sure until you told me about your marriage.” He gave her a small smile. “I just have one question.”
“Only one?” She chuckled. “Okay, what is it?”
“How did a girl with an Italian last name end up with fiery red hair and beautiful blue eyes?”
Annabelle blushed. “I’m only half Italian. My mother was Irish. They met when my mom was a dancer at my uncle’s club. My dad was up and coming in the family business.”
“Why can’t you just say the mob?” Micky snorted.
She threw her fork down and stared at him. “Look, I don’t condone what my father does but its part of who I am.”
“I’m sorry.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, but isn’t there something that you’ve always want to do? Something just for you?”
“You’ll laugh.” She blushed.
“No, I won’t. I promise.” He held up his hand. “Tell me what it is, please.”
“I’ve always wanted to own a bookstore.” She said dreamily. “Something romantic that smells of old books and wood. Someplace where people could come to find that special book they’ve been looking for or where they could just sit down and read for a while. Someplace quiet and away from all the violence.” She looked over at him. “I know, its silly.”
“I don’t think its silly at all.” He squeezed her hand. “I think it’s a wonderful idea. You should do it.”
“I can’t.” She half-laughed. “I’m getting married in seven months. It’s just a dream.”
“It doesn’t have to be just a dream.” He pushed his plate aside and took both her hands.
“Vincent would never understand.” Their eyes locked. “But you do, don’t you?”
“Yes, Belle, I do.” He smiled. “I know what’s it like to have a dream. To want something so bad you can almost taste it. That’s why I live in that crowded dump, because one day that dream is going to come true. Someday the Monkees are going to make it.”
“How can you be so sure?” She asked. “What if it doesn’t happen?”
“If it doesn’t happen, then I’ll know that we tried our best. But if we don’t try, then we’ll never know.” He squeezed her hands. “Life is about taking chances, otherwise there’s no reason to live.”
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Continue to Part 6
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