Angel whispered so softly he couldn’t make out what he was saying.
Vince piped up. “Yeah, who is Allie? Is she famous?”
He cleared his throat. “She’s an artist friend. I built her an art studio last year.”
“Is she rich?” Nico asked.
“No, not rich, but not poor either.” She was married to a lawyer. Her husband had signed the check for the construction work—William Reynolds, Esquire. “Maybe one day she’ll be famous for her artwork.”
“Cool!” Nico exclaimed. “I’m gonna have her sign my free book.”
Vinny smiled. “That would be great. We’re just hitting the tail end of her show though. They might be out of the free books.”
“Hit the gas!” Nico exclaimed.
“Yeah, make her fly!” Vince hollered.
He sped up a little, almost as eager as his kids for reasons he didn’t want to think too much about.
They made it with twenty minutes to spare. The boys ran ahead of him to the library entrance. It was an old brick building with a generic boxy addition tacked on the back sometime in the sixties. He stepped inside the front entrance, the old historic part of the library, scanning the foyer, and spotted Allie to the right in a cozy room with a fireplace and several chairs for reading. Probably the fireplace had been needed back in the day for heat. Her blond head was bent over a book she was signing for a mom and her little girl. Her hair was down, straight past her shoulders, and she wore a light purple tank top with black straps that showed lots of creamy skin. She looked relaxed, smiling at the girl. She didn’t look like a mom at all. She looked like an artist.
She looked like a beautiful woman.
For a moment he just stood there, completely enthralled.
A shuffle to his left alerted him to Vince and Nico shoving each other. At ten and eight years old, they could really get into it, especially when they got bored. He grabbed a hold of Vince by the sleeve, separating them, and jerked his head for the other two to follow him into the room. Allie hadn’t noticed them yet, still talking to the young girl at her table, so he took a few minutes to look around. Instead of bookcases, the room was lined on opposite sides with magazine racks. Her artwork hung in frames above the magazines and on either side of the fireplace. Beautifully realistic forest scenes that drew you in.
“Here it is,” he whispered to the boys. “All of this is her work.”
“Where’s the free books?” Nico whispered.
He pointed to where Allie was now sitting at the table alone. She looked up, her face lighting up with a smile that made his heart kick up a notch. She jumped up and closed the distance between them. She wore a black skirt, her bare legs in chunky black sandals, her petite body shown to perfection in the snug-fitting clothes. A jolt of lust gripped him so unexpectedly he couldn’t breathe for a moment. Like he’d just been jolted back to life.
“You came!” she exclaimed, stopping in front of him. She lifted her hands to hug him, and he shifted a fraction closer, hoping she would. She gave him a quick squeeze and pulled away, smiling down at Angel. “You must be Angel. Your daddy called you every day when he was working on my art studio.”
“Hi,” Angel whispered.
Vinny smiled. “I told the boys to whisper in the library.” He gestured to his other two standing to the side, looking all around. “This is Vince.” Vince turned at his name. “And Nico.”
Allie smiled at them. “Very nice to meet you. I set aside three books just in case you stopped by.”
“You did all these yourself?” Vince asked, pointing at the framed artwork. “Or were the drawings already there and you painted them?”
Allie looked around, beaming and beautiful, even more full of life than when he’d met her a year ago. “I did the drawings and I painted them too.”
“Cool,” Vince said.
“Come on, I’ll get your books.” She walked back to her table, a bounce in her step. He watched her go for a moment, realized he was setting a bad example the way he was checking her out, and followed, his eyes glued to the back of her head. Her hair was golden in the sun streaming through the front window, streaks of various shades of blond.
Angel grabbed his hand, holding it tight as they walked. “I gotta pee.”
Vinny sighed. Every frigging time. He’d told him to pee at the deli, but he’d said he didn’t have to. “Can ya hold it?”
“It’s an emergency,” Angel whispered.
Vince and Nico were ahead of them, already at the table with Allie. They turned around, each of them staring at the books, looking embarrassed. Vince crossed to him and whispered, “Dad, these are baby books.”
“I don’t want mine,” Nico said, giving it to Angel.
“That’s rude,” Vinny hissed. “Gimme. I’ll hold them.” The boys handed them over. “Angel, I’ll get you your own book. Vince, take your brother to the bathroom.”
“It’s Nico’s turn,” Vince whined.
“You’re the oldest; that means you help the youngest.” Vinny put Angel’s hand in Vince’s. “Go!”
“Man!” Vince said. “All the work being the oldest, none of the fun.”
Angel bounced from foot to foot.
“Come on, little man,” Vince said and bent a little so Angel could climb on his back. He ran off, Angel laughing with delight at the unexpected fast ride.
Nico grabbed a car magazine and took a seat, flipping through it, looking very adult for an eight-year-old.
Vinny blew out a breath and walked over to Allie, who was smiling at him again.
He found himself smiling back. “Always an emergency bathroom run to add to the fun.”
She laughed. “Believe me, I’ve been there. The worst is when you’re in line at the supermarket, all your food on the conveyor belt, and then suddenly they have to go. Of course, the bathroom is in the basement in the farthest corner from the register. The things we do for our kids!”
He leaned close to confide, “Once I made the mistake of telling Vince to go outside when he was four and then spent the next year trying to stop him from going outside whenever he felt like it.”
Her blue eyes lit up, and he knew in that instant why he was so drawn to her. So much life and good humor. It made him feel good just looking at her. “You do it once,” she said, “then it’s fair game.”
He smiled, shaking his head. “I’m really impressed with your work. It’s beautiful.” And so are you.
She flushed and smoothed her hair, looking away and then back. “Thank you.”
“Could I get a book signed to Angel?”
“Of course!” She pulled one out and signed it, handing it over. “I don’t know if I ever told you how much it meant to me to have you encourage me to keep going with my art. I’m in a much better place now because of your kind words.”
“Aww, I’m sure that was all you. You’re the one with the talent. Anyone can see that.”
She gazed at him with real affection. “Thank you again. I really did appreciate it and your coming here today too. Your boys are sweet.”
He laughed. “I don’t know that I’d call them sweet. But they’re good kids. Your boys didn’t come today?”
“Their dad dropped them off earlier. They lasted all of five minutes. It’s not a big deal for them. They’ve seen all my stuff tons of times and already have the books.”
Their dad dropped them off. Did that mean a divorce situation? Allie had confided once that her relationship with her husband was rocky. “Did your husband stick around a bit?”
Her expression closed. “No, he’s not very supportive of work that brings so little money. He waited outside.”
“It’s not about the money,” he snapped, irritated on her behalf. “It’s about using your gift, doing what you were meant to do.”
She blinked rapidly and blew out a breath. “How’ve you been, Vinny? Really. You hanging in there okay?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets, his fingers colliding with the note. He left it
there. “I’m okay. My mother-in-law has been busy taking care of my father-in-law, so I learned to cook. He’s not doing so well.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.”
“Yeah. I had to get a babysitter for the boys.” He nodded once. “We’re all hanging in there.”
She gave him a small sympathetic smile. “I’m impressed you’re a cook now on top of being a great dad and master carpenter.”
He flushed at the compliment. She knew how much the boys meant to him, and she’d raved over the bookcase he’d made her as a spur-of-the-moment parting gift. He took his hands out of his pockets, gesturing while he talked. “Just simple stuff. Homemade sauce, ravioli, ziti, manicotti.”
“All the best Italian cooking. I wish I could cook like that.”
He almost offered to teach her, but then he realized no. She was married. The wedding vows were sacred to him. He had no right to start something with her; he had to think of his kids first and foremost, be the parent they needed him to be.
“Vinny, would you like to get a cup of coffee sometime?” she asked softly. “Just, you know, catch up and talk.”
He looked into her blue eyes and saw longing. She wanted to get closer to him just like he was drawn in, wanting more of her. No good could come of this. There was something there, something way beyond the bounds of friendship, and he had to back off. Spending time together would only encourage that spark to ignite.
He swallowed hard. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“Oh.” She leaned back, her expression pinched. “Okay.”
Shit. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her feelings. “I only say that because…” He stuck his hand in his pocket, palmed the note, and grabbed her hand, shaking it and giving it to her at the same time. “I’m not interested in you as a friend. Goodbye.”
Her eyes widened, her hand closing around the note. “Goodbye,” she whispered.
He turned and walked away, his legs a little wobbly over the risk he just took. He snagged Nico on his way out just as Vince appeared in the foyer, holding Angel by the hand.
“Let’s go,” Vinny said.
“Do we get ice cream?” Vince asked.
“Yup. You guys did great.”
“Yeah!” “Woo!” “Ice cream!” they hollered, still inside the library.
He was too preoccupied with his thoughts to bother telling them to quiet down. Because he’d just told Allie that when he couldn’t sleep at night, when the darkness closed in, he thought of her and her light, and it brought him peace.
He’d bared his soul knowing he could never see her again.
Chapter Four
Allie kept her note from Vinny inside her art book with his holiday card, a secret treasure hidden in a safe place. This big burly construction worker man had soul. His dark brown eyes framed with thick lashes that once radiated sadness should’ve given her a clue. Now his eyes showed such warmth. And his smile—flashing white against his olive skin with a hint of stubble along his strong jaw—was a welcome unexpectedly sexy sight. His low roll of laughter had sprung joy in her heart.
She’d never met a man who could express himself so openly. And to know that she had an effect on him, that she’d brought him peace when he’d needed it most, it was nothing short of a miracle. Somehow despite all the barriers between them, all the surface differences in their lives and circumstances, they’d connected. And, a year later, were still connected. How could that be after not seeing each other for so long?
She had to write back.
She waited until Monday morning with her husband gone for the week back in the city, her boys at school, in the quiet of her art studio. She got out paper and pen and stopped. She didn’t have his home address. She couldn’t mail a note to his work the way she had with her art invitation. Anyone might open it, and this was more personal. She shook her head at herself. What was she thinking that they would be pen pals?
He’d bared his soul, telling her how much she’d meant to him. They’d only known each other six weeks. Imagine if they’d had more time together.
She could look him up. She didn’t know which town he lived in, though, and wasn’t sure how many Marinos were in the area.
You know what? She was going to write back. Didn’t mean she had to send it.
Dear Vinny,
The first time we met, I was stunned by the sadness in your eyes. Because I’ve felt a bone-deep sadness like that too. And I know now what you’ve been through and know that my pain can’t even come close to yours. I’m so sorry for your loss.
But I do know what it’s like to feel sad, lonely, trapped in my marriage. I dropped out of college, pregnant, and married in a hurry. You know what they say, marry in haste, repent in leisure. Well, it’s true.
You too were a light in the darkness for me. I was losing myself, and then focusing on you and your pain as you built something so important to me, my art studio, somehow it made it all come together, and you became the light for me. You made me believe in myself, in my talent, and I’ll be forever grateful for that. I’m thirty-two years old and I’m finally figuring out what I’m meant to do with my life.
I understand why you hesitate to meet with me, a married woman, because I’ve felt it too. That energy between us that is…more. I wish we had met under different circumstances.
Keep on being the wonderful father and man you are.
Allie
She tucked the letter inside her art book, next to his, imagining they were having the conversation they would never have in real life.
Madness.
Back to work. No more letters, no more daydreaming, no more what-ifs.
But something had changed for her with that simple note from Vinny. She spent the week in a fog, for the first time questioning what would make her happy. Would she be happier free of her marriage? Maybe. But she had to be doing it for the right reasons. Not for Vinny, which might not even work out. It wasn’t just her she had to think about, it was her children. She was sure she’d have full custody, William had little interest in his sons, but she’d have to fight for alimony. Things would be tight. Illustration work wouldn’t begin to cover the bills. She’d need a full-time job, giving up her time with the kids, giving up her time for her art. She’d be trading a certain life for uncertainty, and she feared the fallout for her boys.
By Friday morning, after she’d seen the boys off to school, she was clear on what she should do, which was absolutely nothing. The status quo was what her kids needed, and she’d find her happiness in her art. That was the sensible thing to do. The right thing.
She opened the door to her art studio and slapped a hand over her mouth.
An envelope with her name on it was on the floor in front of her. She recognized Vinny’s big confident scrawl. He’d slipped it under the door either late last night or early this morning. Last night was a school night. It must’ve been this morning, maybe on his way to work.
With trembling fingers, she picked it up and locked the door behind her. Her heart pounded in her ears as she slipped the letter from the envelope. It was short and to the point.
Allie,
I should’ve said this when I saw you. If things change for you, get in touch for that cup of coffee.
Vinny
He left his phone number and address.
She stood there for a solid minute, staring at the scrawled note, before leaping into action. She tucked his note in her art book, took the letter she’d written but never sent, and promptly addressed it, added a stamp, and walked down the street, dropping it into the mailbox.
The moment she shut the mailbox flap, regret seized her. She pulled it open again and tried to take it back, her arm jammed in the narrow space, grasping at air. She peered inside. Everything was so dark she couldn’t even see it in there.
Shit. What did she just start?
~ ~ ~
Dear Allie,
I was happy to get your letter. I guess we were what each other needed at the
right time. I figure if I was still working over there, I’d ask you about your boys, so how’re they doing? Gabe and Luke still crazy about Mario? How’s Jared doing with his skateboarding? I hope he hasn’t gotten stuck in any more trees. My boys are good. Vince is showing a great arm as a pitcher, and Nico just hit a grand slam in last night’s game. Angel’s doing well too, though the coach had to tell him to face the ball more than once. He keeps looking down at third base, playing in the dirt. Maybe baseball isn’t his sport.
How’re you? Are you working on a new book series? I hope to see your work in a lot of books. I’m sure it’ll make a lot of kids happy to see it. It’s beautiful, realistic but better than reality, if that makes sense. I’m rambling.
I’m hanging in there, busy like always with work and the boys. Can’t complain. Everyone’s healthy. Except my father-in-law. He’s been sent to a hospice. Life’s short. Now I’m depressing myself, so I’ll sign off. Paint some sunshine for me. I could use a little of your light in my life.
Vinny
Vinny,
Enclosed is your requested sunshine. I used colored pencil for this one. Sorry about your father-in-law. Life sucks sometimes.
My boys are doing well. All three just got report cards with straight As. I’m sensing some college bills in my future. Maybe if I sell a kidney. Ha! Or a million books. I’m sending my portfolio to a bunch of publishers, hoping for contract work. Maybe one day I’ll create the text to go with my illustrations and then I’d get the whole royalty instead of half. Just have to think of some cute concept kids would like. Somehow I don’t think eat your vegetables and go to bed on time will catch on.
I think of you often and hope life is treating you well.
Gabe came home with a black eye from a bully at school. The other boy was suspended. I’m not sure what to do to keep it from happening again. His dad says he needs to toughen up. I think maybe I should put him in a different school. What would you do?
A Valentine's Day Gift (Clover Park, Book 11) Page 3