Plain Return (The Plain Fame Series Book 4)

by Price, Sarah

  By the time she’d descended the spiral staircase and found the bag on the bed, she could hear him talking rapidly and occasionally laughing at something Geoffrey had said. She could see the top of the water through the small round window over the bed. It was a clear day without much wind, but the boat was at the end of the pier and smaller boats created miniwaves as they passed. The soothing noise of the water hitting the boat reminded her of the rhythmic beat of a horse’s hooves against the pavement. But unlike the pounding of hooves, the sound of the waves did not stop.

  As she changed into a lightweight dress with thin straps and a flowing hemline that brushed against her knees, she heard the engine churn; the captain was preparing to leave the dock. Once they were away from the marina, Alejandro would be free from text messages, e-mails, and cell phone calls. Amanda found that she was anxious for the boat to leave.

  Alejandro was off the phone when she returned to the main deck. He stood by the open sliding glass door, his back to her and a frosty bottle of beer in his hand. She approached him quietly, placing her hand on his shoulder as she neared him. He glanced at her and reached up, covering her hand with his own and sighing.

  “La vida loca,” he said. There was a weariness in his voice that she had only heard on a few occasions. “We have a few long weeks ahead of us, Princesa. I wanted this day for us.” He rubbed his hand up and down her bare arm. “Just us—for one day.”

  They spent the day on the yacht, which the captain kept directed northbound, along the coastline. Alejandro and Amanda relaxed on the back deck, watching the swell of the wake and waving to the occasional passing boat, upon which there was usually someone standing with a camera in hand, eager to see who the passengers on such a gorgeous yacht could possibly be.

  A cook prepared their evening meal, which they ate while sitting inside in the dining area. The twinkling lights of the coastline moved from starboard to port side when they turned back south, toward Miami. As the sky grew black, Amanda sensed that the boat had slowed. Alejandro poured her a glass of champagne, then gazed at her over the rim of his own glass as he sipped it, watching and waiting for her to do the same.

  “You like?” he asked.

  She wasn’t certain how to respond. The bubbles tickled her nose and made her eyes water as the liquid ran down her throat. She had not yet developed a fondness for alcohol, but she hated to disappoint him. “It’s . . .” She hesitated, not wanting to lie, either. “It’s bubbly.”

  He laughed. “It’s a very nice champagne, Amanda. A Dom Perignon White Gold.” He took another sip, then set down his glass and stood up, holding his hand out, palm up, for her to take. “You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it. But you do have to dance with me. I insist.”

  Just for good measure, she took another sip, ignoring the way he smiled at her. He was not one to tell her this, but he had most likely spent a small fortune on the champagne. Not so long ago he had surprised her with a whole new wardrobe. When she’d looked at the price tags that someone had neglected to remove, she’d been not awed but actually appalled by how much money he had spent on her. Returning the champagne flute to the table, she placed her hand in his and stood. While she wasn’t certain she would ever get over the idea that alcohol was a sin, she knew that dancing in the arms of her husband had long ago been removed from that category.

  With one arm around her waist and the fingers of his left hand entwined with those of her right, he maneuvered her slowly throughout the large room, toward the sliding doors that led to the deck. The music was soft and the singer Spanish. Alejandro sang along with the song, alternating between looking over her shoulder, as if lost in his thoughts, and gazing down at her.

  She pressed her left cheek against his shoulder and shut her eyes. The motion of the boat combined with the slow movement of his dance caused her to sigh. She felt lighter than air. Or mayhaps it was the few sips of champagne, she admitted to herself.

  The pressure of his hand on the small of her back increased. “Why the sigh, Princesa?”

  She lifted her head and looked up at him. “I’m content, Alejandro.”

  “Um,” he said and slowed down. “Just . . . content?”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  He shrugged. “I’d rather you be happy, no?” He took a step backward and lifted his arm, the motion indicating that she should turn. When she did, he grabbed her waist and dipped her backward, the gesture swift and surprising to her. “And I know what might make you happy.”

  With his hips still swaying, he leaned down and kissed her lips. She released her hands from his and let them run up his chest and over his shoulders, wrapping her arms around his neck. She felt her feet rise off the ground as he picked her up and slowly moved backward, heading toward the spiral staircase that led to the lower floor where the master bedroom suite was located.

  When she awoke on Sunday morning to the noise of boat engines and cries of seagulls drifting through the open window, it took her a minute to realize where she was. Alejandro was already gone, his place beside her vacated. She touched the pillow where, hours before, he had slept, a slight indent left behind. The memory of the previous night caused her to smile to herself, and she pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as she shut her eyes and felt a warm glow spread throughout her body.

  After dressing and fixing her hair, she padded barefoot up the stairs. She heard his voice before she saw him, dressed in white and seated near the sliding glass doors, a cup of steaming coffee in one hand and his other arm resting along the back of the brown leather sofa. Across from him were two men she did not recognize. They, too, seemed relaxed as they drank coffee and spoke in Spanish to Alejandro. There was always someone around Alejandro, it seemed.

  He must have sensed her for he looked up and smiled, gesturing with his free hand. “Princesa! The day is half over! Come and meet Paolo and Eddie. You will see a lot of them over the next two months.”

  When she blushed and lowered her eyes, he chuckled.

  “Ven aqui,” he repeated as if coaxing a child and not his wife.

  Obediently, she crossed the floor, and when he patted the seat next to him, she sat and crossed her ankles beneath her.

  “Paolo will be overseeing the equipment setup and teardown,” Alejandro explained, pointing to the older of the two men. He was a lean man with square shoulders and a small, pencil-thin, black mustache, something that Amanda immediately disliked. But his eyes were kind and he reached out his hand to shake hers.

  “Good to meet you,” he said, his thick accent making it hard for her to understand him.

  Alejandro indicated the other man. “And Eddie, the tour manager. He will make certain everything runs smooth.”

  Eddie, too, leaned forward to shake her hand. Unlike Paolo’s, Eddie’s build reminded her of Alejandro’s. His broad shoulders and dark skin made her wonder if they might be related. They could certainly pass as cousins, that was for sure and certain.

  “Mucho gusto,” he said, his accent resembling Alejandro’s more than it did Paolo’s.

  “Are you related?” she asked.

  Alejandro grinned. “I knew that you would see a resemblance,” he said. “Everyone says that. But we are not related.” He put his arm around her and pulled her toward his side, giving her a quick kiss atop her head.

  For the next hour, she sat there, listening to their conversation but understanding very little of the details that were discussed. Just after ten o’clock, the two men left. Alejandro walked them both to the back of the boat, leaving her alone for a few minutes.

  She looked around, amazed to see that the gathering room appeared as if no one had been there at all the previous evening. There were no dirty dishes or glasses on the table. The burnt candles had been replaced. During the twenty-four-hour jaunt, she had barely seen anyone on the boat, with the exception of the captain, who’d greeted them u
pon arrival the day before, and the steward, who brought them beverages and food. She wondered if there was a third person on board responsible for keeping it tidy.

  What a strange life, she thought. And at what expense?

  Walking back through the door, his dark sunglasses hiding his eyes and contrasting with the rest of his outfit—the white slacks, shirt, belt, and shoes—Alejandro clapped his hands twice and rubbed them together. “¿Listo, Princesa?”

  “¿Listo?” She knew what he was asking her, but she had no idea what she was supposed to be ready for.

  “Sí, mi querida. It is Sunday, no? I would like to escort you to a fine brunch before we head home. I have some work to do, and we have guests tonight.”

  Guests? Amanda didn’t ask, but she did give him a look, silently inquiring about this announcement. Whoever it was, she wished that she had been told. After all, she didn’t have time to prepare anything.

  “Don’t fret, Princesa,” he said. “It’s only Alecia.”

  “Your mother?” Immediately, Amanda felt a wave of panic. She knew what “only Alecia” meant. Alecia did not usually travel alone. “Only Alecia” traveled with her own entourage. “Oh, Alejandro,” she said, giving him a look of despair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He shrugged, glancing down at his phone. “I didn’t want you to worry your pretty head. Besides, Señora Perez is preparing the meal so you do not have to do anything. Just show up.”

  Amanda frowned, but she didn’t remark that, as his wife, it would be nice if she could cook once in a while. While she tried to help Señora Perez, more often than not she was chased from the kitchen. Additionally, she wanted to do more than “just show up” for his mother. “Mayhaps we should go home straightaway, then? I’d like to see what I could do to help.”

  After only a moment’s hesitation, Alejandro relented. “Bueno,” he said. “Then that gives me more time.” He gave her a smile and held out his hand for her to take. “Come with me, Princesa. Your chariot awaits you.”

  She took a deep breath and stepped toward him, shaking off the irritation she had just felt and putting a smile on her face. After all that he had done for her the previous evening, she knew that she should feel more appreciative of his thoughtfulness. As she accepted his hand, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Danke, Alejandro,” she said. “I had a lovely time.”

  He squeezed her hand, his pleasure with her gesture of gratitude more than obvious.

  Hand in hand, they walked down the dock to the sounds of the water lapping at the sides of the boats and the call of the seagulls resonating through the air. Amanda leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling remorse over her indignation just moments before. She said a silent prayer asking God to forgive her and to lend her the fortitude to remember what she’d known before marrying Alejandro: that being his wife would require adjustments on her part. She just needed God’s strength to help her recognize those moments when she encountered them.

  Chapter Three

  Upon their return to the condominium from the marina, Alejandro excused himself right away and disappeared into his office. With the door shut, she knew that he was working on a new song and she wouldn’t see him for hours. That was the way he came up with every new song: inspiration required isolation. And Alejandro’s isolation meant that Amanda was left to assist Señora Perez, who happily prepared for the evening’s guests, humming as she set a large table that had conveniently materialized from somewhere.

  Amanda felt another wave of panic when she saw the long table and the number of place settings, which clearly indicated that her earlier suspicions about “only Alecia” had been correct. A quick count indicated that twelve people would be dining there that evening, although Amanda suspected that Señora Perez had a few other settings ready nearby in case Alecia arrived with additional people.

  “Let me help,” Amanda said as she hurried to assist the housekeeper. But Señora Perez merely shooed her away, saying something that Amanda couldn’t understand since it was spoken in rapid-fire Spanish. However, Señora Perez’s hand gestures made it clear enough: her help was not needed.

  Even more upsetting was Amanda’s observation that the white linen tablecloth was freshly pressed. Not one crease marred the plain but pretty coverings. There were beautiful flower centerpieces, three to be exact, that made the table look even more festive.

  Exactly how long had Alejandro known that his mother and company were coming?

  Before long, she got another surprise: his family started arriving.

  She had been in the kitchen, trying to find something with which to busy herself. Standing around watching Señora Perez work had made the housekeeper so uncomfortable that she’d finally assigned Amanda small tasks, such as fetching something in another room or stirring something on the stove, most likely to keep her away from the other hired help, more than for any other reason. Still, feeling as though she was contributing to the preparations for the gathering improved Amanda’s mood tremendously.

  When she heard the front door open and the sound of at least two dozen pairs of feet on the marble floor, she looked up and sought out the clock. Two thirty? No sooner had she realized that Alejandro’s family had arrived early than Alecia and her entourage simply marched into the kitchen. While the kitchen was large enough to accommodate them, given the big open space around the table that she and Alejandro hardly ever used, it seemed overcrowded with everyone standing behind Alecia and watching Amanda.

  “Oh help!” Amanda muttered, more to herself than to anyone else.

  She hadn’t expected them for another hour or more. Immediately, she reached a hand to her hair, worried that it was mussed. She hadn’t even changed her dress, which was soiled from helping Señora Perez. Even the menial task of dishing food onto serving platters had resulted in splatters of sauce staining the front of her dress.

  Wiping her hands on a dish towel, Amanda turned toward the guests, her cheeks pinking up as she realized that they were waiting for her to say something. But no words came to her. She had never been a hostess before and, feeling shy among the strangers she knew were Alejandro’s family, words escaped her. Without Alejandro by her side, her insecurities about maneuvering in his world quickly boiled to the surface.

  To her relief, Alecia didn’t waste any time. “Amanda!” She held out her arms, and when Amanda approached her, Alecia pulled her toward her bosom and embraced her. “How is your father? Improving, sí?”

  “He’s improving. Danke for asking.” Amanda felt awkward in front of these people, all but two of whom were strangers to her. While she appreciated Alecia taking the lead with the introductions, telling her names that she knew she’d most likely not remember because they were strange names to her, she found herself saying a quick prayer for Alejandro to join them soon.

  Alone with his family, she couldn’t begin to think of what to say or how to behave. At home on her parents’ farm, people knew what to do. The men would retreat outside to sit in the breeze and catch up on their plans for the upcoming planting season while the women, without being directed, would bustle about the kitchen, busying themselves with the final preparations for serving the meal.

  She suspected that such assistance would seem unusual to Alecia and her entourage. When they came to Alejandro’s for a gathering, they were used to being served, and for a moment, Amanda worried that they might think less of her for having worked alongside the hired help.

  Besides, Alecia’s presence in the kitchen seemed overwhelming to Amanda. It simply filled the room. Despite the simple and quaint appearance of her plain floral dress and flat cream-colored sandals, Alecia evoked an aura of a woman who was dignified and staid, with little tolerance for social blunders. Unfortunately, Amanda never knew whether she was making any.

  Speaking in Spanish to the others, Alecia motioned with her head toward the open glass doors. The people wasted no time dispersing to the
outdoors, leaving Alecia alone with her daughter-in-law.

  Amanda wasn’t certain which was worse: being with the entire group or facing Alecia one-on-one.

  The older woman’s eyes scanned Amanda from head to foot and then back up again, giving serious scrutiny to her midsection. “You’ve lost weight, sí?” Alecia met Amanda’s eyes. “You are well?”

  “I . . .”

  The hesitation must have said it all, for Alecia shook her head disapprovingly. “Eat! You must eat, Amanda.”

  “Oh . . .” Words completely escaped her, and she stared at Alecia, stunned into silence. What was there to say? No one had ever spoken to her in such a blunt manner. All of her life she had been taught to respect her parents. The problem was that Amanda didn’t feel as if Alecia was her parent. But she had also been taught that there were times to keep quiet, even if she didn’t agree with someone. She suspected now was one of those occasions.

  “If you are to give me grandchildren,” Alecia continued, “you need some fat on those bones, mi hija!”

  “Mamita!”

  Amanda exhaled, relieved to hear Alejandro approach from behind her as he walked into the kitchen. He touched her arm as he passed her, a gesture of encouragement, and embraced his mother. Amanda noticed that Alecia gave him a quick perusal, as well. Apparently, he didn’t pass muster either. She clicked her tongue, reminding Amanda of the noise Amish women make when they disapprove of something, and shook her head.

  “Look at you, Alejandro! You work too much,” she said sharply. “You look tired.”