Island in the Sea

by Anita Hughes

  “My mother has lived in the same fishing village for fifty years.” Samantha smiled. “She’s terrible at keeping secrets.”

  “How often do we get invited to the Grammys? I thought they would like to attend.” Lionel shrugged. “I invited my mother too. They can go shopping on Rodeo Drive and play bingo in the Polo Lounge.”

  “I was wrong when I said life was about sharing your accomplishments with the ones you love.” Samantha approached him. “It’s also about compromise. We don’t have to make decisions about the future now. Why don’t we just try to enjoy ourselves.”

  “What did you have in mind?” Lionel raised his eyebrow.

  “I did a little shopping of my own.” She slipped off the robe and revealed a red push-up bra and lace panties.

  “Where did you get those?” Lionel gasped, loosening his tie.

  “I stopped in La Perla on the way home.” She took his hand and led him to the sofa. “I couldn’t decide between a black camisole and this push-up bra and lace panties.”

  “You definitely made the right decision,” he whispered, kissing her softly on the mouth.

  She stepped out of the panties and let them fall to the floor. He inhaled her scent of floral perfume and lavender bubble bath and never wanted to let her go.

  She sat on his lap and unbuttoned his shirt. She put her hand underneath his slacks and felt his hardness. She unzipped his slacks and positioned her body above his.

  He unsnapped the bra and let it fall from her shoulders. He laid back against the silk cushions and felt like Paul Newman or Robert Redford.

  “I think we’d be more comfortable on the bed,” he murmured.

  “We better hurry,” she whispered. “I can’t wait another minute.”

  He lifted her up and carried her into the bedroom. She pulled him down on the bed and opened her legs. She wrapped her arms around him and drew him inside her. He felt the soft curve of her stomach and silky stretch of her thigh and creamy perfection of her breasts. He gathered her in his arms and heard her gasp. Then he came so violently he thought he would never stop.

  He tucked her against his chest and pulled the crisp white sheet around their shoulders. He saw the open copy of Vanity Fair and yellow Hi-Liter. He let out his breath and murmured:

  “You seduced me so I could help you with your paper on Thackeray.”

  Then he closed his eyes and wondered if you could die from being so happy.

  * * *

  “I bought these cuff links for my first Grammys,” Lionel mused, gazing at his gold cuff links. “Montblanc twenty-four carat gold, handmade in Switzerland. Whoever said clothes don’t make the man never wore a custom Armani tuxedo and alligator Ferragamos. I entered the Shrine Auditorium and felt like Cary Grant. I convinced Samantha to wear a red Valentino gown, she looked like Lana Turner.” Lionel finished his martini. “I’m going to take the chicken out of the oven. You probably would rather join a friend for some tapas.”

  “I’m starving and getting a little tired of tapas,” Juliet admitted. “I’d love to stay for dinner.”

  “Why don’t you go onto the terrace.” Lionel walked to the kitchen. “I’ll take the wine out of the fridge and rustle up a salad.”

  * * *

  Lionel stood at the kitchen counter and gazed out the window. He saw Juliet sitting under the trellis, rubbing her lips with pink lip-gloss. He saw her smooth brown hair and long legs and felt something tighten in his chest. He selected a Didier Pouilly-Fumé and walked into the garden.

  chapter seventeen

  JULIET STOOD ON THE BALCONY and inhaled the scent of jasmine and azaleas. It was Saturday morning and the plaza was filled with men wearing linen shorts and suede loafers. Women wore wide straw hats and oversized sunglasses and soft leather sandals.

  She walked inside and stood in front of her closet. She was meeting Gabriella, and they were going to visit the outdoor markets. She pictured stalls of pink radishes and colored sea salts. She imagined roasted pig and sausage and realized she was starving.

  She remembered dinner with Lionel on the terrace and smiled. It had been surprisingly pleasant to sit at the round table and eat potato soup and warm baguettes. It was lovely to sip a smooth cabernet and listen to his stories about performing for President Clinton and having afternoon tea with Prince Charles.

  It was only when they were nibbling Gloria’s macaroons and she asked if he was writing new songs that she saw his shoulders tighten. She remembered him downing a double shot of cognac and grinding his cigarette into the silver ashtray.

  She glanced at Lydia’s cell phone on the desk and flinched. She had stayed awake all night wondering what to do. It would be so easy to send the recording to Gideon. She pictured him listening to Gabriella’s high, clear voice and knew her job would be secure.

  She selected a lavender dress and felt her stomach rise to her throat. Gabriella was kind and generous; she couldn’t possibly betray her friend. Then she pictured Hugo sitting in the restaurant with a dark-haired girl and shivered. She would do anything to stop her from getting her heart broken.

  Gabriella and Hugo had been together for four years, surely Gabriella would sense if he were seeing another woman. She would spend the morning with Gabriella and see if there was something she wasn’t telling her. Then she would decide if she should send the clip to Gideon.

  She walked down the wood staircase and entered the hotel lobby.

  “Miss Lyman,” the concierge called. “It’s lovely to see you. I hope you are going to visit our Saturday markets. The plaza is filled with stalls selling fresh seafood and ripe fruits and local chutney.”

  “I’m meeting a friend there.” Juliet nodded. “I’m afraid I’ll buy too much, everything sounds delicious.”

  “You have a delivery.” He pointed to a ceramic vase filled with tulips and roses. “Should I send them to your room?”

  “These are for me?” Juliet gasped, approaching the desk.

  “I’ve never seen such a large bouquet.” The concierge nodded. “Here is the card.”

  Juliet slipped the ivory card in her purse and ran down the hotel steps. She was about to pull it out when she heard her phone buzz.

  “I hope you like the flowers. I’m sorry I missed dinner last night.” Henry’s voice came over the line. “The reporter wanted to discuss the history of tennis upsets since Björn Borg defeated Jimmy Connors at Wimbledon. I was desperate to leave but my coach kicked me under the table and whispered they would give me the cover.”

  “They’re spectacular. The concierge was worried how he would get them up the staircase.” Juliet giggled.

  “I am playing an exhibition match at Los Monteros in Marbella on Monday. I’ll be challenging the fifth-ranked player in the world and really I’d like you to be there.

  “Málaga is an hour’s flight and a private car would take us to Marbella,” he continued. “Los Monteros is one of the most exclusive resorts in the world with a one-star Michelin restaurant and private beach club. The suites have roof decks and you can see the Rock of Gibraltar.”

  “I don’t know if I can take the time,” Juliet stammered.

  “It would only be one night.” He paused. “I’d play better if you were watching and after we could eat tiger prawns at El Corzo and listen to the piano at Bar Azul.”

  “Can I let you know tonight?” Juliet asked.

  “Take your time.” Henry’s voice was suddenly soft. “And Juliet, I don’t mind if you want separate rooms.”

  * * *

  Juliet entered the plaza and saw stalls filled with purple cauliflower and red peppers. She inhaled the scent of fresh baked bread and her shoulders relaxed

  “There you are.” Gabriella approached her. She wore a wide straw hat and carried a wicker shopping basket. “I was afraid I was going to have to eat the basket of peaches by myself.”

  “I’ve never seen so many kinds of fruits and vegetables,” Juliet mused.

  “Farmers come from all over the Tramuntana Val
ley and the fishermen haul the fish up from Puerto de Sóller,” Gabriella explained. “Hugo and I used to come every Saturday.”

  Juliet gazed at a bunch of yellow sunflowers and suddenly pictured the ceramic vase filled with tulips and roses. She remembered the ivory card and Henry’s invitation to go to Marbella.

  “You look a little pale.” Gabriella frowned. “Let’s sit at an outdoor café and drink a bottle of lemonade.”

  “Henry called and asked me to go to Marbella,” Juliet said, sipping the fizzy drink. “He’s playing an exhibition match at Los Monteros. He said I could have my own room and we’d go to dinner and dancing.”

  “My grandmother took me there when I was little.” Gabriella ate a sliced peach. “The lobby was gold and white marble and the pool was made of mosaic tiles. The rooms were decorated in all white and my cheeseburger was served on a porcelain plate.” She sighed. “I would do anything to go there on our honeymoon.”

  “Henry and I haven’t known each other long, and I’ll be going back to America soon.” Juliet hesitated.

  “You said Henry told you he loved you.”

  “But he travels all over the world and I live in Los Angeles,” Juliet said. “Even if we were in the same place, I spend all day in the recording studio and nights at smoky nightclubs. I wouldn’t have time to Rollerblade on Venice beach or dine at trendy restaurants in Brentwood.”

  “When Hugo and I had been dating six months my father called us into his study,” Gabriella began. “We entered the room and he was wearing a navy blazer and collared shirt and tie. His hair was slicked back and he wore tan slacks and leather loafers.

  “I was nervous because he usually wears a shirt with the sleeves rolled up and white chinos. He poured us each a glass of brandy and said nothing was more important than his daughter’s happiness. Then he asked Hugo what were his plans for the future.

  “I glanced at Hugo and my stomach rose to my throat. He was twenty-two with barely enough money to buy me a scoop of tiramisu or a bunch of daisies. He put his glass on the coffee table and told my father one day he would have his own restaurant. He would buy a beautiful villa and spend every day making me happy.

  “I felt his hand graze my palm and knew that everything we faced we would do together. Love doesn’t disappear in the face of obstacles; it grows stronger. If you and Henry love each other you’ll find a way to see him play in London and Melbourne and he’ll send you flowers and chocolates while he’s away.” She stopped and her cheeks flushed. “And when you are together you’ll feel so complete, you’ll forget you were apart.”

  “You make it sound simple.” Juliet sipped her lemonade.

  Gabriella finished the peach and her face broke into a smile. “At least you’ll drink daiquiris in a beachside cabana and mingle with royalty. Los Monteros is the favorite resort of the prince and princess of Spain.”

  * * *

  They strolled through the stalls and bought jars of jam and bottles of vinegar and olive oil. They tried on pearl necklaces and leather espadrilles. Gabriella took off her hat and tied a silk scarf around her hair.

  “Do you like it?” she asked.

  Juliet gazed at the patterned fabric and noticed Gabriella’s ruby earrings.

  “Your earrings are gorgeous,” she said, fingering a silver bracelet.

  “Hugo gave them to me yesterday,” Gabriella replied. She heard the cathedral bells ring and started.

  “I’m late, I promised I’d meet Hugo at the tram stop at two P.M.” She kissed Juliet on the cheek. “I had a lovely time. If you go to Marbella, bring me a chocolate praline truffle. The maids leave them on the pillow at night and they’re delicious.”

  * * *

  Juliet spent the afternoon exploring winding alleys and quaint boutiques. She bought a packet of postcards in the gift shop and a gold bangle in a jewelry store. She admired the elegant mansions on Gran Via Avenue and spent hours studying the Picassos and Miros in the Ca’n Prunera.

  She sat on the steps of the cathedral and thought again how much she loved Sóller: she loved the narrow buildings with their lacquered window boxes filled with peonies and lilacs. She loved the outdoor cafés with their striped awnings and round iron tables. Mostly she loved that everywhere you looked you saw green valleys and tall mountains and the deep blue of the Mediterranean.

  She thought about the places she usually visited for work: tiny towns in New Hampshire or Virginia. She pictured eating at Denny’s after a concert or joining the band at IHOP for breakfast before the bus pulled back onto the freeway. She had always loved the feeling of camaraderie, like she was part of a team.

  Maybe there was more to life than being the person with a clipboard and bottles of sparkling water. She thought about the places Henry mentioned: playing the Swedish Open in Stockholm and the Rolex Masters in Shanghai. Attending the Australian Open in February and the weather being so warm, he could swim in the Pacific Ocean.

  She heard the cathedral bells ring and walked back to the Hotel Salvia. She entered her suite and saw the crystal vase filled with roses and tulips. She sat on the floral love seat and felt her heart race.

  How could she admit to Gabriella she wasn’t sure how she felt about Henry because she’d never been in love? Then she flashed on Lionel saying people didn’t change. Of course she believed in love, she just never met the right guy.

  She fingered Henry’s ivory card and pictured watching him play his match. She imagined sipping a bottle of Syrah and nibbling steamed mussels and poached sea bass.

  She saw his blond hair and the way his eyes lit up when he talked about tennis. Of course she was falling in love with him, she just had to give herself the chance.

  She picked up her phone and dialed his number.

  “Hi,” she said when his voice came over the line. “I’d love to go to Marbella.”

  “I’m glad,” Henry replied. “I won’t have to wear my lucky socks, and after the match we’ll go sailing.”

  “I can’t wait.” She took a deep breath. “And you don’t have to reserve separate rooms.”

  * * *

  Juliet stood up and paced around the suite. She felt a little off balance, as if she stepped off an airplane. She fiddled with her gold bangle and suddenly remembered Gabriella’s ruby earrings.

  She thought about what Lionel said that you only give jewelry if you need to apologize. Why would Hugo splurge on ruby earrings when he was saving up for an engagement ring?

  She pressed PLAY on Lydia’s cell phone and listened to Gabriella’s high, clear voice. If Gideon offered Gabriella a contract she didn’t have to accept it. But at least she would have the option if Hugo were seeing another woman.

  She took out her laptop and typed a quick note to Gideon. She tapped his e-mail address into Lydia’s phone and pressed SEND. Then she walked to the balcony and let the air leave her lungs.

  She gazed at the ribbons of pink and orange clouds and thought she had done two things that could change her life. She was going to Marbella with Henry and she had sent Gabriella’s song to Gideon.

  She poured a cup of coffee from the silver coffeepot and added cream and sugar. She glanced at the bouquet of roses and tulips and Lydia’s cell phone and thought she didn’t know which frightened her more.

  chapter eighteen

  LIONEL PUT DOWN THE COPY of Huckleberry Finn and rubbed his eyes. He scooped up a handful of pistachio nuts and washed them down with a gin and tonic. He took out his gold cigarette case and tapped a cigarette onto the Regency desk. He inhaled slowly and thought he really should go up to bed.

  He pictured his dinner with Juliet and remembered why people spent hundreds of dollars at fine restaurants. It had been lovely to sit under the green trellis and eat Gloria’s roasted chicken and baby potatoes. It had been delightful to savor a vintage French wine and talk about books and music. He had glanced at the turquoise swimming pool and pink hibiscus and thought even Casa Rosa had its merits.

  But then Juliet mentioned Gideon’s
name and he felt a cool chill. He swallowed a double shot of Rémy Martin and lit a cigarette. He ground it into the glass ashtray and lit another.

  * * *

  Now he stood up and opened the crystal decanter. He refreshed his glass and hesitated. He couldn’t keep dousing his liver in gin and soda water. Then he pictured Gideon’s immaculate Dolce & Gabana sports jacket and platinum Patek Philippe watch and downed it in one gulp.

  He ran his fingers over the stubble on his chin and remembered the year “Going to Catalina” was released. He and Gideon and Samantha did everything together like a modern-day Three Musketeers. He pictured parties at Gideon’s impossibly large Beverly Hills mansion with its signed Andy Warhols and Jackson Pollocks and one perfect Van Gogh. Gideon hired Michael S. Smith and every room had lush white carpet and geometric sofas and crystal chandeliers.

  He remembered smoking cigars in Gideon’s study with its Bang and Olufsen stereo system. He pictured lying beside the pool and gazing at Samantha in her red swimsuit and vowing they were never going to grow old.

  * * *

  He heard a knock on the door and called. “Come in, I’m in the library.”

  “It’s dark in here,” Juliet said, entering the room.

  She wore a navy knit dress and beige slingbacks. Her hair was held back with a ceramic clip and she wore a gold bangle.

  “When I was at Cambridge, I’d get a touch of insomnia and sit in Magdalene College library,” Lionel mused. “Just staring at the bookshelves filled with centuries-old leather bindings was better than warm milk with brandy. I’d select the Canterbury Tales or The Decameron and curl up in a stuffed armchair. I’d inhale the faded ink and fall asleep before I turned the first page.”

  He walked to the bookshelf and selected a thin volume. He ran his fingers over the spine and looked at Juliet.

  “The first time I read Tom Sawyer, I was thirteen. It was my second year at boarding school and I was surrounded by wankers in public school ties and Bermuda shorts. I stayed up all night reading how Tom and Huck faced Injun Joe and dreamed of having a best friend I would do anything to defend.