by Alexia Adams
Her mother had insisted that she sign the recording contract and leave immediately for LA. Valentina had been the one to upload to YouTube Anna’s song about Eduardo losing his dream career. And once the representative from the record company had shown up, her mother had been so excited. They had a shot at getting out of Boca, at “living the life they deserved.” For the first time in Anna’s existence, her mother had been pleased with something her daughter had done.
So she’d caved to her mother’s demand, hoping to finally make up for her birth. Anna had been the unwanted result of her mother’s teenage indiscretion with a tourist who had promised to show her the world and instead left her knocked up at home.
As far as Anna could tell, the pregnancy test result was the last positive in Valentina Marquez’s life. Nothing Anna did ever made her mother pleased that she’d had a daughter. Then a stranger had knocked at the door and offered Valentina a hundred grand up front to relocate to America and turn the child she’d never wanted into the world’s darling.
Eduardo’s stubborn refusal to follow her had sealed their fate.
The high of finally achieving maternal approval had lasted two years. Then the cracks started to show. More and more of Valentina’s demands had been about pleasing herself rather than advancing Anna’s career. Finally, the day after Anna turned twenty-one, she appointed Simon as her music manager and her mother as her “lifestyle” manager. That had appeased Valentina a little. But soon even that wasn’t enough.
With Eduardo no longer in the picture, Anna plowed all her energy, all her passion, into her songs and performances. She achieved success beyond her imagination. Enough to pay her mother a hefty monthly sum to keep out of her life.
But now, standing before her former boyfriend, she wished that somewhere along the line she’d done things differently. She had so many designer clothes, shoes, and handbags she’d never have to repeat an outfit for years. Three supercars, two of which she was too scared to drive, sat in her garage. And she’d give it all up to see Eduardo smile at her with love in his eyes just one more time.
She had to clear her throat before she could get her voice to work. “What’s done is done. We can’t go back. I told you I still regret it. My question to you is, can we move forward? Have you decided what to do about my … request?” Patience was not a subject taught in diva school.
He strode over to the bar in the corner and fiddled with the top of the whisky bottle before turning away empty-handed. That was Eduardo—always in control.
His face was grim when he finally looked her in the eye. “I can’t make love to you, Anna. Find some other guy.” A muscle throbbed in his jaw, and one fist was clenched at his side.
She wanted to argue … persuade … seduce. But even more, she wanted Eduardo to choose her because he still desired her as much as she did him.
Instead, she whispered, “Do you think we can at least be friends? For old times’ sake?” He raised one sardonic eyebrow. “How about friendly, for Timo’s sake?” she said as she heard the little boy’s excited voice drift through the open terrace door.
“That, I can do.”
Timo erupted onto the terrace, a cat clutched in his arms. “This place is amazing! It’s even bigger than my daycare!” he shouted.
Raul followed behind, a look of consternation on his face. “I’ve told him this is a holiday and we’re just visiting for a few days.”
Anna kneeled so her face was near level with the little boy’s. “Let’s make this the best holiday ever,” she said. “Shall we go check out the garden?”
“Can Nahla come?”
Anna glanced at the feline. It looked like it would rather be anywhere else but was too good-natured to protest much. “I think the cat would prefer to explore on her own.”
Timo scrunched his face for a second then nodded, holding out the animal to Eduardo.
“Actually, the cat belongs here. I was just pet-sitting while my friends are in France. Nahla is completely at home.” He set the cat down and it quickly scampered out of sight, either to investigate its favorite haunts or avoid more over-exuberant affection.
“Do you want to come with us, Señor Forenza?” Timo asked.
Anna held her breath. She needed a little time away from the pull of Eduardo’s presence to process his rejection. His refusal to relieve her of her virginity rankled. She’d nursed a secret fantasy that if he made love to her, it would obliterate the walls around his heart and they could be together once more.
Her imagination could work when it wanted to—just not when she was making hotel reservations under the influence.
Eduardo ruffled Timo’s hair and muttered some excuse about needing to make a call. So she and Timo left the two men on the terrace and found a small playground set behind the rose garden. Timo ran from the slide to the monkey bars, not seeming to know where to start. After three times on the slide, including a face-first version Anna watched through her fingers, the little boy clambered onto the raised platform. He stretched, even going on tiptoe, but couldn’t reach the first rung on the monkey bars. He looked pleadingly at Anna, and she quickly moved to assist him. He managed two passes with her holding his legs while he attempted to grab each successive bar.
“How’s it s’posed to be done?” Timo asked.
She glanced from the quizzical face of the little boy to the bar above her head. Trips to the park had been a rarity in her childhood. This would be her first time on the play equipment. A tiny laugh escaped her. At least she’d get to try something new, even if it wasn’t what she’d hoped for.
Her ponytail swung side to side as she made the return trip across the apparatus with Timo’s cheers encouraging her. Glancing up, she caught Eduardo watching from an open window. Well, let him look. Let him see what could be if he’d let go of his anger and pain.
But even she wasn’t enough of a dreamer to pretend that they’d have a future. Eventually, she’d leave again. She’d made a promise to Simon to oversee his foundation. She had a record contract to fulfill and fans to keep happy. She’d put too much of herself into her career to just abandon it now.
But, Dios, was one night in his arms too much to ask? What was the point in being a superstar if you couldn’t get the one thing you wanted?
***
Eduardo flung back the sheet and stalked to the window. Could the woman not even allow him an hour’s sleep? The practical lawyer in him reasoned that it had been more than an hour since he’d said a stilted good-night to her. A glance at the bedside clock showed it was now 3:00 a.m. Plenty of time for him to have fallen into a deep sleep and not be awakened by the faint strumming of a guitar coming from the terrace below.
Dinner had been a disaster. Raul had claimed that Timo was tired, so the two of them ate earlier in the kitchen, leaving Eduardo alone with Anna in the massive, formal dining room. She’d worn a fitted dress that showcased her luscious curves and long, toned legs beneath its too-short hem. The soft pink color had matched the blush that infused her cheeks when she’d checked him out in his borrowed button-down shirt and slightly too-tight black pants. Tomorrow he’d have to send someone into Mendoza to get them their own wardrobes. With strict instructions that anything for Anna needed to be ugly, with full coverage.
He was so close to falling for her again. The way she interacted with Timo, the genuine warmth and affection she showed to all she encountered—this was the Anna he remembered. She’d always been kind. In his dark world of constant criticism and abuse, she’d been the one thing that made getting up in the morning worthwhile.
Was there any way they could go back to being friends, as she’d asked? His brain didn’t even hesitate before throwing out the answer. It would never work. They’d never been just friends. From the moment he’d seen her in the community center thirteen years ago—strumming a guitar with two strings missing and a huge hole patched with duct tape—he’d been fascinated. Captivated. Enthralled.
She’d been playing a silly song to a gaggle
of young children to help them remember some math formula. The lyrics had been inconsequential. Her voice, her radiance, her amazing smile—they’d transcended the mundane, decrepit building and taken him to paradise.
In that instant, his court-ordered community service had become the best thing to ever happen to him. While he assisted the aged athletics coordinator and taught younger kids the rules of various sports, Anna, out of the goodness of her heart, helped others with their homework. By the third day of his sentence, Eduardo was hopelessly in love, a punishment that lasted much longer than the four weeks he served for petty vandalism.
Within a week of meeting Anna, he took the money he’d been saving for a new pair of rugby boots and bought her a second-hand guitar for her birthday. It wasn’t anything special—his father had stolen some of the cash Eduardo had saved—but at least it had all the strings and the body was intact.
Dios, the music she’d made with that thing. Every new song she sang to him first, seeking his approval. A niggle in his soul told him then that her talent would take her away. But in his youth, his stupidity, he believed he could hold her against the lure of fame and fortune.
Ironically, it was his athleticism that first tore them apart. The letter inviting him to try out for the Mendoza rugby club seemed a godsend at the time. If he made the starting fifteen, the salary would set them up for the future. And that was just the beginning. He was soon called up to play for the national team. And he was declared a hero when he scored a try in Los Pumas’s one and only win over the All Blacks. European clubs called, and he was inundated with agents offering to represent him. The world was at his feet. He and Anna spent endless hours on Skype talking about the possibilities.
Those dreams were shattered by a vicious tackle and a phone call ending their relationship that still replayed in his nightmares. After he realized Anna wasn’t coming back, he concentrated hard on getting a degree. Of course, without the rugby money paying his way, he had to work his ass off to keep ahead of the tuition payments.
While staying in Mendoza, he met Tiago, and their friendship led him to his current situation as partner and development director for Alva-Suarez Properties. With Tiago wanting to work less to concentrate on his family, Eduardo would soon be running the company. His plan to take it global was ambitious but doable.
However, none of it was going to happen if he was stuck out here in the countryside. The sooner they figured out who was behind the attacks, the sooner he could get back to BA, say goodbye to Anna, and launch his expansion strategy.
Right this moment, all he wanted was a few hours of sleep. When was the last time his head had been on a pillow for more than three hours? It was before Anna’s reappearance in his life, that was for damn sure.
Her angelic whisper accompanied the guitar now. There’d be no chance of rest until she stopped luring him with her siren song. He tugged on Raul’s oversized shirt, leaving the buttons undone, and a pair of sweatpants he’d borrowed from Tiago’s closet. He headed downstairs.
Anna sat on the sofa, cross-legged, her guitar resting on her lap. A notebook and her cell phone were beside her. She was scribbling something on the paper while her left hand, reflexively it seemed, fingered silent chords on the instrument.
He remained in the shadows, absorbed in the way the moonlight caressed the waves of her blonde hair, which she’d left loose for once, and turned her skin into a pearly confection. Within a minute, however, she stilled, and her gaze probed the dark recess where he stood.
“Eduardo?” she whispered.
Moving forward into the light, he didn’t miss how her breathing quickened and her nipples hardened under the thin fabric of her nightshirt. She licked her lips, and his cock stirred. His body’s argument to take her, just once to relieve the ache, grew louder.
“I didn’t want to interrupt you,” he said.
She placed the guitar beside her on the sofa. “Sorry, did I wake you? I thought it would be quieter down here in the courtyard than in the bedroom across the hall from yours. I forgot your room probably looks out onto the terrace, doesn’t it? I tried to find the study, but this house is a maze.”
“Tiago’s home office is on the third floor. You didn’t wake me, though. I wasn’t really asleep.”
She nodded. “Does today’s explosion keep replaying in your mind as well?”
No, but your lithe body swinging from the monkey bars does. “Yes. Is that what your song is about?”
“No.” She glanced at the paper then back at him. “May I play it for you? It’s currently titled ‘Memory Palace.’”
His inner voice shrieked at him to escape before he lost what little remained of his self-control. Stupid voice. From the second he’d left his bedroom to seek her out, his sane, rational side had abandoned him as a lost cause. Afraid of what might come out of his mouth, he simply sat across from her and nodded.
That guitar. It couldn’t be … could it?
She picked up the slightly battered but obviously well-loved instrument. After strumming a few opening chords, her eyes captured and held his prisoner. Her voice joined with the melody, not quite a whisper but the perfect pitch to steal into his heart and scatter the few pieces he’d managed to cement back together.
They say if you want to remember
Important things in life
You should build a palace in your mind
And fill it with your life
So I built myself a palace
A place within my mind
A whole wing is dedicated to you
Crammed with all you meant to me
As I walk the halls of my palace
I have come to realize
Whole floors of rooms are empty
After you, I forgot to live my life
There is no children’s laughter
No baby’s first cries or smiles
I can’t bear to visit your wing
I had to lock it from my mind
The place where love should linger
Is empty of your voice
No laughs or hugs or baby kisses
Can comfort me when I cry
As I walk the halls of my palace
I have come to realize
Whole floors of rooms are empty
After you, I forgot to live my life
My palace is cold and lonely
Footsteps echo in the hall
No kings or queens cavort or dance
It’s really no fun at all
As I walk the halls of my palace
I have come to realize
Whole floors of rooms are empty
After you, I forgot to live my life
Forgot to live my life
Her voice was strong but laced with the pain clearly etched on her face.
The numbness he’d wrapped around himself since their talk this afternoon weakened, allowing the heartache of the past to penetrate once more. He’d always blamed her for leaving him. But he could see now that he’d done nothing to fight for their love. It was another failure to add to his list.
The last note drifted up into the black night to join the stars and other celestial objects.
“It’s not done yet,” she said after a long moment. “It still needs … something.”
He cleared his throat. “How can you do this—lay bare your heart, your soul, for everyone?”
“Because it helps. Keeping it all bottled up only makes it harder. Plus, I get lots of letters and emails telling me how my songs express exactly what others are feeling. They can cope better with their problems as well.”
“I’m glad our failed relationship has benefited so many. Especially your bank account.”
Anger blazed in her eyes. “It’s nothing like that. I sing about what’s in my heart. I can’t help it that you’re always there.”
He looked away. And the silence lengthened between them.
“If I’m in your heart, how could you marry someone else?”
Her voice soft, she replied, “
Love had nothing to do with my marriage. I knew Simon was dying before we wed. I knew he’d never be a husband in the full sense of the word. I didn’t want that. What I did want was a break from all the speculation about my sexuality and lack of relationships. He wanted a companion in his last days, someone he could trust. For all he’d done for me since I went to America… For all the support he’d given me, I wanted to be the one who held his hand when the pain got too much. The one who sat by his bedside and sang softly to him when he couldn’t sleep. And you know what, Eduardo? I have no regrets about marrying him. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
“Your marriage nearly destroyed me.” All the emotion she’d poured into her song he now released. “Dios. You’d already been gone for six years. I thought I was over you. But when the photos of you in your wedding dress appeared on the television screen while I was watching the news … I drank for two days solid. I became my father. If Tiago hadn’t sobered me up, I’d be sitting in an alley somewhere now.”
“No.” Her harsh word brought his gaze back to hers. “You wouldn’t. You’re the strongest person I know. Just because you had a minor setback doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re human.”
How could she still do that? She made him feel better with just a few words, spoken with the confidence of someone who knew everything about him and still liked what they saw.
She set the guitar down, and this time he was sure it was the same one he’d bought her all those years ago. She had money now. Why did she keep that old piece of garbage? His heart offered up an answer, but his mind rejected it. Must be a musician’s superstition at work. Because she’d had a hit with the first song she’d written on the instrument, she kept using it.
She stood. The moonlight behind her appeared like a halo around her head, but his reaction was anything but heavenly. There was no disguising the waves of desire that swirled between them.