Jess sat on the chair beating himself up. His gut had told him it wasn’t a good idea letting Maria accompany him to Mexico. If it hadn’t been for Tag Marlowe’s invention, she would have been dead—or possibly, in a couple of days, returning from it. It would have served him right if she had turned and made Jess her first victim for putting her in harm’s way. This thought made him want to protect Maria more than ever; he could only hope she escaped this attack unscathed.
He glanced around Sophia’s tiny living room. It was so spic and span, it was probably allergic to dust. A cozy fire burned in a stone hearth. The house was filled with ceramic bowls, books older than Jess’s great-grandparents, and rugs so colorful they put a rainbow to shame. There was a small altar in one corner—the most prominent feature being a hand-carved painting of Christ framed by two candles. Jess couldn’t remember the last time he had been in a church, but strongly considered moving across the room to say a prayer for the girl.
Sophia entered from a back bedroom. She flashed a smile that mercifully let him off the hook. “She’s going to be fine, Jess.”
“Thank God.”
“It scratched the side of her head. Ears bleed a lot. She was scared more than anything. Now she is just tired.”
“We should let her rest, then.”
“She wants to see you.”
“Maybe in the morning…”
“She’s insisting.”
Sophia practically pushed him in the direction of the bedroom with a smile.
“Go, go, go. I won’t hear the end of it if you don’t go in there.”
Jess didn’t need convincing—of course he wanted to see her. “Just for a few minutes.”
Sophia led him to the back. Before Jess knew it, he was standing by the bed; Sophia had eased the door shut, leaving the two of them alone.
The only light source was a single candle on the nightstand. Maria grinned when she saw him, and then winced. “Hurts when I smile.”
“Then I won’t tell you a joke.”
She was half under the covers, wearing a flimsy nightshirt that Sophia must have unpacked. The blood on her face had been wiped clean; a tiny bandage was affixed to an earlobe. If Jess hadn’t seen her on the ground outside the café, he would have thought she had just awoken from a pleasant dream.
In the candlelight, she was a vision fit for Goya. Maria patted the edge of the bed, urging him to sit.
Jess felt his heart skip a beat the situation shouldn’t have warranted. He knew Maria ought to be resting, but it didn’t prevent him from gently easing himself down beside her. “So you’re feeling better?”
“Frankly, I don’t remember much of anything. It was kind of a blur.”
“Well, you used Marlowe’s flashlight like it was a light saber.”
“I carried a lot of pepper spray as a teenager. Mom insisted.”
They both laughed. After a few seconds, Jess began apologizing. “Maria. I’m so…”
“Don’t.” She placed a finger on his lips.
He wasn’t upset when she let it linger there longer than necessary before lowering it.
“What?”
“Don’t say you’re sorry. You didn’t ask me to come here. I insisted.”
“I could have kept saying no.”
“Now that you’ve spent a few days with me, how do you think that would have worked out for you?”
“Hmmm. Not so well?”
“So, as the song goes, ‘No Apologies.’ What we need to do is head for that field first thing in the morning.”
“Out of the question.”
“We have to go, Jess.”
“Not we, Maria. Me. You’re staying here.”
“No way,” she said. “I didn’t come all this way to stop here.”
“Sorry.”
“There you go apologizing again.”
Jess started to raise his voice, his guilt spilling out. “You were lucky tonight. I can’t take the chance…”
“Sshh! Sophia will hear you.”
“Maria, I’m not discussing…”
She lunged forward and reached inside his pocket. She came up with a piece of paper. Jess groaned when he saw it was the map Marlowe had drawn.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Deadly.” She smiled. “You want it? Come and get it.”
She slipped the piece of paper inside her nightshirt.
Jess laughed. “C’mon, Maria. You’re kidding.”
Her expression showed she wasn’t.
“Maria, I’m not going to do that.” But saying it didn’t mean it wasn’t appealing—or all he could suddenly think about.
Maria raised herself up and moved closer to him. She was breathing heavier.
“That’s okay. You don’t have to.”
Suddenly she was in his arms and her lips parted. Jess was caught by surprise—but not unwilling.
Suddenly, Jess was breathing heavily too.
She kissed him for a while.
Finally Jess broke them apart, knowing how crazy this was.
“Maria…”
She refused to let go. “I’m not going to apologize either. I’ve wanted this as long as I can remember. More than anything.”
They stared at each other for what seemed like forever.
Then, this time, Jess kissed her.
Because, as it turned out, he wanted her more than anything too.
Afterwards, they lay in the glow of the tapering candle, alternately kissing and laughing. It was still dark outside and Jess had no idea what time it was. He didn’t care. For the moment everything seemed perfect and the trip that waited after dawn was something he didn’t want to think about.
But he knew Maria was coming with him. And he vowed he would die before letting anything happen to her.
“What are you thinking about?” Maria asked.
Jess decided it was a good time for a little white lie. “What your great-aunt is going to say.”
“Sophia?” Maria laughed. “She practically pushed you into bed with me.”
“What about Lena?”
“My mom adores you. Sometimes, growing up, I thought she loved you more than me.”
“Not for one second.” The way Jess said it reaffirmed the preciousness of the girl wrapped in his arms.
For a while, they lay in silence. Jess was just about to drift off when the candle snuffed out.
“You never talk about her.”
It was as if Maria had waited for total darkness to bring it up.
“Who?”
“Tracy.”
“What is there to say?”
“You came all the way to Mexico to find her. You even ran away from the cops to do it.”
“I’m here because of my father.”
“I’m sure that’s true. But Tracy’s the one you’re looking for. She must mean something to you.”
Jess thought before answering. He wasn’t weighing what to say—he was trying to get a handle on how he really felt.
“She did once. Not much anymore.”
Maria laughed softly. “I’m not so sure I believe that.”
Jess straightened up and kissed her cheek. “I wouldn’t be here with you if that wasn’t the truth.”
Maria softly returned the kiss. And then asked the question Jess had been dreading.
“What happened between the two of you?”
“It’s not important, Maria.”
“Now you’re lying, Jess. Whatever you do with me, if anything is to go beyond this moment together, please don’t lie to me.”
Jess didn’t want to. He just had never voiced any of it out loud.
“What makes you so sure I’m not telling the truth?”
“Because you left home for seven years and never came back. And no one knows why you left.”
“Some do.”
“Then tell me.”
“I’ve never told anyone, Maria.”
“We’re a thousand miles away from whatever happened. It can stay here—
right here in this room. Never to be mentioned again if you don’t want. But you should tell me. Please. I want to know.”
“You might think different after hearing it.”
“I know I won’t.”
She kissed him gently and forever.
“I know you,” she said.
So he told her.
All of it.
TRACY BEFORE
She had made sure that he was going to be alone when she got to the house. Kate had mentioned at Jess’s party she was going to New York on a shopping trip the next morning and taking Harry along for the ride. Tracy had seen Sarah stumble off with her Eurotrash boyfriend as the night wound down and knew she’d be at his place sleeping off all the alcohol. It was Lena’s day off, which Walter Stark confirmed when Tracy called him on his cell and told him they needed to talk. He didn’t stop her from coming over; he knew this was a long time coming and would be in his office. Then, he hung up, brusque and rude.
He hadn’t always been that way. Walter Stark could be charming, funny, and actually make you feel like you were the only person in the world when he was talking to you.
Which was why he had been able to seduce her.
It had started up the previous winter at her father’s Christmas gala, Clark James’s annual charity for underprivileged kids in Palm Springs. The actor opened up his home to hundreds of perfect strangers and it fell to Tracy to serve as pseudo hostess. She had been home from Dartmouth for Christmas break and was sitting in a corner, out of her mind with a smile plastered on her face while greeting friends of her father she didn’t give two shits about. When Walter Stark came over and started chatting, it was a blessed relief; at least he’d been interested in what was going on with her instead of trying to mooch off her famous father.
They drifted outside to the pool and had a couple of Cosmos. The drinks eased the shock she should have felt when Walter started flirting, but the truth was Tracy had been involved with a string of older men right out of high school. Boys her age didn’t interest her; a shrink would chalk it up to an only child playing substitute wife for a larger-than-life father. So, an hour later, when they ended up in the pool house tearing each other’s clothes off and having sex on the floor where she used to play Monopoly with her own dad, Tracy wasn’t surprised. Looking back on how it began, she couldn’t swear she hadn’t initiated the whole thing.
They saw each other half a dozen times over Christmas break. Walter had her come by the house whenever his family was off spreading holiday cheer. Once she dropped by his office for a noon rendezvous. The other times he got her a suite at the Grand Champions in Indian Wells, where they enjoyed room service and each other, and where Tracy fell heavily for Walter Stark.
He was a fascinating man. He had come from nothing and built an empire in the Desert. But it wasn’t Walter’s money that attracted Tracy—her father’s fortune was nothing to sneeze at. If she had to put a finger on something, it was the power he exuded. Seldom had she encountered anyone so self-sure and so completely in control of his environment Walter possessed the magnetism one read about in presidents like Clinton and Kennedy—strong men with very visible wives and children who also had secret lives playing out on the other side of the looking glass.
It didn’t matter to Tracy that no one knew about them. She didn’t need that. When Walter was with her, they were alone without anyone distracting them, wanting something, expecting them to do anything for anybody. They were just together. She loved hearing him talk about expanding his empire and was continually surprised by the amount of philanthropy he did. Walter Stark could be awfully generous when he wanted.
That didn’t seem to spread to his family, the one subject he rarely broached with Tracy. Walter held them to a higher standard and was disappointed Jess hadn’t embraced Walter’s work and joined him at his side. He would make the occasional jab calling his eldest son a “free spirit”; he thought Jess’s flights of fancy nothing but a waste of time. Now, in retrospect, Tracy saw the irony of falling in love with Jess for being precisely what his father hated—beating to a different drum.
The affair continued during spring break, when Tracy canceled her annual trip to Florida with her party-all-the-time sorority sisters and instead winged west to the desert. Clark James was surprised to see his daughter; she told him she wanted to get a jump on looking for a summer job. But the only place she hopped was into the poolside cabana at the Grand Champions where she spent most days and plenty of nights romping with her much older crush. Walter even flew back east a couple of times the next month and had Tracy meet him in New York City. They kept a low profile there too, but she didn’t need to be taken out to dinner or Broadway shows. She was content learning the ways of the grownup world from a man who had made such a big splash in it.
As summer approached, the calls began to dwindle. She figured it was due to Walter’s multitude of business interests. So she threw herself into studying for finals while thinking of the three months they would spend together trying to stay cool in the broiling desert sun.
But Tracy didn’t hear from him the first week after she got home. She knew Walter was aware she was back in town; she certainly had told him enough times school ended right after Memorial Day. Tracy had even sent him funny emails with a countdown of sorts. But she hadn’t gotten a reply.
Deep inside something nagged at her, but she excused it as him being unavailable because his family was underfoot, something Walter alluded to when he finally called and invited her up to the house one night.
She should have trusted her gut instinct.
When she arrived at the mansion, she was beside herself with anxiety and anticipation. She rang the bell at the gate and Walter’s voice promptly came over the speaker. “I’m out by the pool.” She quickly navigated the driveway, parked, and headed for the side gate, which he had left open.
Tracy walked up the side path and entered the backyard. The only light came from the fluorescents in the pool, where Walter was dog-paddling in the deep end. Tracy smiled, seeing he wasn’t wearing a bathing suit, and for one moment everything was back to normal.
Then the other girl came out of the main house.
She was carrying a bottle of champagne and three glasses on a tray. She was naked, curvy as could be, maybe all of twenty-one—and Tracy had never seen her before in her life.
“You must be Tracy,” the girl said in a way too cutesy voice.
Tracy didn’t answer. She wondered what would happen if she killed the girl right then and there. Walter had swum over to the side of the pool where the girl was pouring him a glass of Dom. He gave her more than a peck on the cheek, never taking his eyes off Tracy.
“What are you waiting for? Take off those clothes and join us.”
Tracy stood motionless. Tears began streaming down her face.
He responded with the cruelest smile she had ever seen. “What did you expect? That I was going to leave my family and run away with you?”
No, thought Tracy. She didn’t expect that. She longed to tell him she just wanted to be with him whenever she could and didn’t want to share him with anyone else.
Instead, she ran off.
As she drove up toward the Stark mansion, Tracy kept thinking about that night her life had changed so dramatically.
She had rushed out the side gate and hopped in her car, her eyes blurry from cascading tears. She barely made it down the steep curvy driveway, almost crashing a couple of times because she was hysterical and couldn’t see. When she finally made it to the main road, she parked the car and started walking aimlessly down the street, sobbing openly, stumbling along trying to catch her breath and keep from vomiting.
Two minutes later, Jess came barreling down Palm Canyon Drive and almost ran her over.
As she parked in front of the Stark house, Tracy thought it was funny how life formed peculiar circles. Here she was arriving at Walter’s front door to see him once again, but this time armed with firsthand knowledge of what a total
prick the man could be. Fueled by her own self-loathing for being sucked into his web back then, it was now ignited by anger from Walter constantly disrespecting Jess and ignoring Tracy since they had hooked up. She strode into the house and headed directly to Walter’s office, determined to let him have it.
He was behind the big oak desk signing checks and didn’t even look up when she entered. “What is it?” he asked, never missing a scribbling beat.
“That, for starters. Me walking in a room and you acting like I don’t even exist.”
Walter didn’t answer right away. He kept her waiting and signed two more checks. He finally looked up with eyes so cold the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. “As far as I’m concerned, you don’t.”
She had been prepared for him to be a raging asshole, but Tracy was unnerved by how directly he went about it. She was so disgusted she had actually fallen for this man; she could barely muster up an ounce of self-esteem.
“Walter, I really don’t give one fuck what you think of me. But it’s unconscionable the way you treat and disrespect Jessie. Not bothering to show up for his birthday party—out of spite towards me? That just really sucks.”
“Who do you think you are waltzing into my house, into my office, and telling me how to handle my son?”
“The woman who loves him. And is going to marry him, whether you like it or not.”
Walter actually smiled. And that was the scariest part of all. As he got to his feet and stepped toward her, Tracy realized she had made a dreadful mistake in going there.
“Over my dead body.” The hellacious smile never left his face. “What makes you think that I’d let Jess marry a piece of trash like you? A woman that screwed a married man? A woman who fucked her boyfriend’s very own father?”
Tracy found herself backed up against the desk with nowhere to go. “I had no idea I would ever get together with Jess. Why can’t you just forget what happened between you and me and let us be happy?”
He pressed up against her. “Because I would sooner tell him the truth than let him spend his life with a philandering liar.”
“I’ve never lied to him.”
“Have you told him about us?”
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