Blanca sat in one of the Adirondack chairs, and I sat in another. “Why do you think that is?”
I took a swig of the beer I brought out for myself. “A lot of reasons. Us kids were expected to work in the vineyards. For me, I wanted out of there so bad, I spent all my free time studying.”
“You could’ve studied at the beach.”
“I take it nothing stopped you from seeking out new adventures.”
“Not once I had a car. And enough money for a plane ticket.”
“Speaking of money, do you need to be working?” I couldn’t help but wonder if she was as obsessed with it as her sister had been. So far, I hadn’t seen any indication she was.
“By working, do you mean writing?”
“Yeah, although I’m sure there’s a lot more to it than that.”
“Words on paper is definitely the most important part. Research is second to that. Once I’m done with a story and it moves into editing and stuff like that, I lose interest.”
“Onto the next?”
“You’d laugh if I told you how many ideas for books I have sitting in an imaginary queue, waiting for me to get to them.”
“How many?”
“More than thirty.”
“How long will it take you to write that many books?”
“At this rate?”
I laughed. “Normally.”
She shrugged. “Between four and five years.”
I gasped. “For thirty books?”
“Give or take. Does that seem like a lot or a little?”
“Uh, I would’ve guessed at least a year each. Are all authors that prolific?”
“Some write more. Some less. Everyone writes at their own pace. That varies, of course, by circumstance. Writer’s block is a real thing.”
“Are you writing anything now?”
Blanca leaned against the chair, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply. “I was. I don’t know if I’ll finish it.”
“Why?”
“It isn’t what I usually write.”
A bad feeling settled in my chest. “You’re writing your sister’s story, aren’t you?”
“Trying. Although, I don’t have a helluva lot to work with. I know next to nothing about her life in the last eleven years. Even less about how she died. I mean, I can’t understand why there are no details available about the plane crash. Isn’t there a black box or something?”
“It can take months before definitive conclusions about the cause of a crash can be reached.”
Blanca opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again before getting up, going inside, and closing the door behind her.
I got up and followed. “Did I say something wrong?”
She finished her beer and pulled another out of the refrigerator. “You sounded exactly like the people I’ve already spoken to.”
“It’s a simple fact, sis.”
She set her beer on the counter hard enough that some spilled from the top. “Don’t call me that.”
I stared into Blanca’s eyes, waiting for her to say something more. When she didn’t, I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Most of the time, I don’t realize I’m doing it. I’ll be careful not to again.”
“Why are you here?”
“What do you mean?”
“First, you showed up in Manhattan, saying you were there on business. That turned into taking time off and going to the lake, but you don’t seem to be in any hurry to leave. Neither does Ranger.”
I walked around the island that separated us and took her hands in mine. “You’re right. There are things I need to tell you. Some of it might not make a lot of sense.”
Blanca pulled her hands away and ran one through her hair. “Oh my God.”
I took a step closer and smiled. “I haven’t said anything yet.”
“Are you going to tell me something—anything—about my sister?”
“Yes.”
She put a hand on her hip. “Go ahead.”
“Let’s have a seat.”
Instead of sitting on the sofa, Blanca chose a chair. I pulled up an ottoman, sat in front of her, and put my hands on the chair’s arms.
“I’m going to start out with questions, but I promise I’ll also give you answers.”
She nodded.
“Do you know anything at all about Sofia’s career in the Air Force or what she did after she separated from the service?”
“I know she flew F-15C Eagles.” She smiled and so did I. “What does separated from the service mean?”
“It’s a new way of saying someone was discharged.”
“Oh. You also said the two of you met when you were both contracted to fly private planes.”
“That’s right. Who have you spoken with about the crash?”
“I can’t recall his name. I have it written down, though.”
“Do you know what agency he was with?”
“He didn’t say.”
“The company that contracted Sofia and me to fly for them is owned by former military, some former intelligence.”
“Do you still work for them?”
“I do. Although not in the same capacity.”
Her hands gripped the arms of the chair, but not close enough to touch mine. “Am I in danger?”
“What makes you ask that question now?”
“Someone came looking for me in Paso Robles, even though no one knew I was there. Then, like I said, you showed up in Manhattan.” Her breathing slowed, and her eyes bored into mine. “Am I in danger from you?”
I put my hands on hers. “Blanca, ask yourself that question. Do you believe I’d harm you?”
“My gut says no, but that doesn’t mean my gut is right.”
God, if she only knew what she was saying. “No, you are not. I promised to protect you. Do you remember?”
“Yes.” She bit her bottom lip. “Am I in danger because I’m looking for information about the crash?”
“There are a lot of unanswered questions about it as well as what your sister might have been working on when it happened. The people I work for are searching for those answers.”
“But they aren’t the only ones.”
“That’s right.”
“The guy on the boat and the guy on the bridge—were they the same person?”
It figured that someone who wrote books would possess the kind of imagination that would immediately fill in blanks, piece stories together in the way Blanca was.
“I believe so.”
“Was I in danger from him?”
“What did he say to you, Blanca?”
“Nothing really. He was trying to make conversation. He asked if I was from New York and if I’d ever been to Yankee Stadium.”
“Is there anything else he asked that you can recall?”
“Right after that, he looked distracted. He walked away and down the aft stairs without saying another word. Then, I thought I saw him on the bridge. He saw you and got off the boat, didn’t he?”
“He saw more than just me.”
“Right. You and Ranger. You’re both so chummy with me, but really, you’re watching me.” Blanca tried to push my arms out of her way and stand, but I wouldn’t budge.
“We’re protecting you.”
“There’s more to it, though, isn’t there? You’re the ones looking for information on behalf of the people you work for.” She put her hand in front of her mouth and gasped. “It’s what Sofia left for me, isn’t it? That’s why my father said it’s imperative I find it.”
“It’s possible, yes.” I leaned in closer. “Blanca, look at me.”
She shook her head and kept her gaze focused on the wall.
“Please, look at me.”
“I don’t want to,” she said, but she slowly turned her head.
“From the moment I met you, I felt a connection. I know you did too. It’s difficult for both of us because I was with your sister. However, everything I’ve said about how different I think you are from her,
all the fun we’ve had together, that is all separate from what you’re searching for.”
“I don’t know how to believe you.”
I slid off the ottoman and knelt in front of her. “Do you think it’s possible to fake how this makes both of us feel?” I grasped the back of her neck and brought my lips to hers. Like every other time I kissed her, Blanca’s mouth opened to mine. Our tongues twined and our teeth clashed as the passion between us intensified.
I moved my hands to her waist and pulled her close to me so I was between her legs. “I want you, Blanca, even though I know neither of us is ready to take that step. I can’t pretend otherwise. I’d give anything to have met Ranger all those years ago, been invited to his camp, and swept you off your feet before Jimmy had the chance to.”
16
Blanca
I stared into Montano’s eyes, looking for any sign of a lie. Any flinch. Any eye movement I could construe as evidence that he wasn’t being honest with me. There was nothing. Either this man was a master at playing women like they were his own personal fiddle or he was telling me the truth.
There were enough times when we’d been close that I knew he was as turned on as I was. Only briefly had I wondered if his attraction to me was a manifestation of my sister. I immediately deemed the idea ludicrous, and then more so when the mere mention of her appeared to darken his mood.
Something had obviously happened between them that left Montano bitter toward Sofia.
When I set out to learn more about my sister, my expectation had been that I would discover she was how I’d always imagined her to be—popular, sought after, the life of the party, everyone’s best friend. I’d heard none of that, from anyone. Even the bartender of a restaurant we’d frequented as teenagers.
Montano said some people just rubbed others the wrong way, yet the reactions I’d witnessed seemed more intense than superficial dislike.
If I thought about my own feelings alongside the feelings of others who’d shared theirs, I couldn’t lie to myself and say I didn’t feel the same way.
The bottom line was, I hadn’t liked my sister since we were little girls. It was only the pressure I felt to be like “other twins” that kept me from admitting it out loud. Weren’t we supposed to be closer to one another than anyone in the world? I’d never felt that way about her. In fact, there were times I wondered if she wished I hadn’t been born.
I knew other siblings fought, said hateful things, especially with two teenage girls involved. But it had always felt worse than that. It was one of the reasons I’d left. It wasn’t just that I no longer believed I fit in with her and my father; it was I had to get away from her.
“Blanca?” said Montano when I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “What’s going on?”
“I just realized something.”
“Tell me.”
“I left because I didn’t want to be like her.”
“Sofia?”
“Yes. I hated the way she’d make everyone think she didn’t have a care in the world. She was the fun one, the passionate one, the one I thought everyone wanted to be around. But at home, she was someone else entirely.” I took another deep breath, giving myself time to be sure I really wanted to say the words I was about to.
“We don’t have to talk about this anymore tonight.”
“No. I want to. Even though what I’m about to say may change your mind about me.”
“I doubt that, but go ahead.”
“Remember I told you I knew when she died? I felt it.”
“Yes.”
“It was relief, Montano. I felt a great weight lift from my shoulders, and I just knew she was gone. I know I’m being dramatic. I’m practically demonizing her, and that isn’t my intention. She was my sister, and I loved her. There were just too many instances when I didn’t like her.”
He eased away and sat back on the ottoman. “Hard on my knees,” he explained, rubbing them.
“Would it help if we sat on the sofa?”
“Not sure how much it would help my knees, but my heart would really like it.”
I rolled my eyes but smiled. “You’re such a flirt.” I stood and held my hand out to him. “Come on, old man. Let’s get you comfortable.”
Montano took his time getting up, but once he was, fast as lightning, he picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder like he had a couple of nights ago. Then he’d carried me upstairs.
“Now that you’ve got me here, what will you do with me?” I couldn’t resist teasing him.
“I’m thinking about tossing your young perky ass in a pile of snow.”
“What’s stopping you?”
He shook his head and laughed. “I promised to protect you. What if you get pneumonia or something? I wouldn’t exactly be living up to my word.”
“Tell you what, why don’t you toss me on my bed instead?”
He moved closer to the sofa and deposited me there, much to my chagrin. That he sat down and put his arm around my shoulders didn’t do much to alleviate my embarrassment. “If I thought you were really ready to share a bed with me, that’s where we’d be.”
“We can lie on a bed and not have sex. We did the other night.”
“You must’ve missed the part when I bolted upright and rushed out of there.”
“Oh. God, now I really feel like a dork.”
“No, it wasn’t you, Blanca. It was me. I was so close to putting my hand under your shirt, teasing the nipples that were straining so hard to get my attention, tasting more than your lips, touching more than your cheeks, your neck, your hands.”
“Why didn’t you?” I whispered.
“We aren’t ready for that, and you know it.”
I wanted to tell him he was wrong, but he wasn’t. Having sex with Montano now would be a huge mistake. We hardly knew each other. On top of that, any insecurities lingering in my head that he was only attracted to me because I was a replacement for my sister would grow until I had no choice but to get away from him. Fair or not, logical or not, I knew that’s how I’d react. He was absolutely right. Neither of us was ready for sex.
I rested my head on his chest and put my arm around his waist. “I feel like I told you a lot more about my sister than you told me.”
“We may be done for now, but we aren’t done talking. If you have questions, I’ll answer them the best I can.”
“I’m too emotionally drained to talk more tonight.”
“Are you too tired for food?”
He sounded so much like a little boy, I laughed. “I’m never too tired to eat, Montano. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”
“Do you like to cook?”
“Um…like to cook? I’m not even sure what that means.”
“You know, barefoot, in the kitchen, heavenly scents wafting from whatever you’re stirring on the stove.”
“Uh, no. That wouldn’t be me. I’m more of a sneak-into-the-kitchen-and-steal-a-taste-of-what-someone-else-is-cooking kind of girl. What about you? Do you like to cook?”
“I’m not sure I could say I like it, either. Although, I don’t think I’m as bad as you are.”
“Bad? Not liking to cook makes me bad? I think it just makes me lazy.”
“I may have seen a room service menu in the kitchen.” He started to get up, but I pushed him back into the cushions.
“I’ll get it,” I said, waiting until I was far enough away that he couldn’t grab me before adding, “Don’t want you to hurt your knees.”
I found the menu he’d referred to, sitting on the counter. The kinds of things on it were why I didn’t cook. I mean, why cook when I could order a bone-in Kansas City dry-aged rib eye with grilled lobster tail, scallops, and shrimp? Or English pea soup, also served with grilled lobster, but with the addition of trout caviar and mint-lemon créme fraiche.
While I should’ve stopped there, I didn’t. I also chose candied salmon with maple-glazed slab bacon and cheddar grits plus an Adirondack charcuterie board that came with
local cheeses, cured meats, paté, pickled vegetables, olives, crab-apple mustard, and fresh-baked bread.
“What sounds good?” Montano asked from the other room.
“Um, kind of a lot. I went ahead and ordered a few things. I hope that’s okay,” I answered, returning to the sofa and sitting beside him.
“You didn’t steer me wrong with the fish fry. I trust your taste.” He rubbed both his ears. “I didn’t even hear you. Must be the altitude change.”
“Actually, they had a tablet on the counter, so I just ordered online.”
“I only skimmed the menu. You didn’t happen to order oysters, did you?”
I bit my lower lip. “I didn’t, but I can.”
“Will you eat some?”
“Yes. I love oysters,” I answered, walking to the kitchen to place the additional order.
“And maybe a bottle of wine?”
“You’re taking this ‘don’t hurt your knees’ thing very seriously,” I shouted back at him from the kitchen, where I was studying the wine list.
“What did you say?” I jumped when I felt Montano brush against me.
“You startled me.”
“And you were making fun of me.”
“Yeah? What are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know, but maybe this will give me some ideas.” He held up a tablet of his own, and on it was the cover of one of my books.
“How did you find that?”
“It wasn’t difficult.” He pointed first to the letter B. “For Blanca.” Then the letter D. “For Dawn, your middle name, and finally, Pfeiffer, your mother’s maiden name.”
“I’m not sure which disturbs me the most. You searching for one of my books or that you know my middle name.” He set the tablet down without commenting on the title of the particular book he chose, Temptress, and I was relieved he didn’t tease me about it.
I wasn’t ashamed of the books I wrote; I’d just grown weary of people who believed they could say whatever they wanted about them and me, as if I weren’t a living, breathing person with feelings.
“Neither should disturb you. I searched for your books because I’m looking forward to reading them. As for your middle name, I knew it began with D, but I guessed it was Dawn.”
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