“I’m afraid I am. And that’s the problem.”
“I’m listening.”
“The night of the funeral, Rafe made me promise not to distribute Rowan’s picture. Then Sarah put it on social media and it went viral. He was furious. I told him it wouldn’t happen again. But my new boss specifically wants shots of Rowan in the winner’s circle from Saturday’s race.”
Julia shrugged. “So, you go to Rafe, explain the situation. He’s an understanding kind of guy. It’s not like half the world won’t see those photos now. The Illinois Derby was televised, wasn’t it?”
“No, but it might as well have been. It was streamed on the internet.”
“See? There you go. He can’t hold you to that promise anymore, sweetheart. As far as I can tell, the issue is moot.”
“You really think so, Mom?”
“I do,” Julia said confidently.
* * *
OLIVIA DIDN’T HAVE to wait long to talk to Rafe. Just after the lunch crowd thinned out that day, he called and asked her to join the family for Monday night lasagna at the farm.
“I’d love to, Rafe,” Olivia said. “Can I bring anything? Salad?”
“I don’t think so. My mother prides herself on her Italian cooking, as you might have guessed. But if you have any of your macarons lying around, I could go for a few. Or a dozen.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” she promised, thanking him for the invitation and agreeing to show up at seven thirty.
Though she didn’t have any fresh cookies, she always kept several dozen in the freezer.
After cleaning up and closing the deli for the afternoon, Olivia went home to change.
She stopped by the Indian Lake Nursery on the way to Rafe’s farm and bought a pink hydrangea plant for Gina. It was precisely seven thirty when she drove up the long drive and parked behind the villa.
She grabbed the bakery box of macarons and the hydrangea and started for the back door. She had the odd thought that of all the times she’d come to this house, she’d never entered through the front door.
Was the back door considered the servants’ entrance?
Or the family door?
Same door, different perspective. She admonished herself for dwelling on it and knocked.
From inside, she heard a woman’s heels clicking across the ceramic tile floor. “Is that you?” Gina whisked the door open. “Olivia!” Her eyes fell to the massive pink blooms. “Is that for me?”
“It is,” Olivia replied, holding the flower out for her. “I know it’s one of your favorites. It’s forced, so you’ll have to be careful we’re well past frost before you put it outside.”
“How pretty and so sweet of you to remember! Come in,” Gina gushed. “I’m just putting the herb-and-garlic bread together.”
“Can I help you?” Olivia asked, following her into the kitchen.
Gina shook her head. “The table is set. Mica is getting ready. I sent Rafe to the wine cellar.” She smiled secretively. “One of Sam’s best bottles. We’re celebrating the win. Shh. I’m not supposed to tell you, but Rafe said it was important you be here. He says you’re good luck for him and Rowan.”
Olivia blushed crimson red. “He said that?”
Rafe walked into the kitchen carrying a bottle of cabernet sauvignon and four red wineglasses. “I most certainly did. Mom wasn’t supposed to spill,” he said good-naturedly. He put the bottle and glasses on the granite counter. Then he kissed Olivia’s cheek. “Thanks for coming. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”
“I don’t know about that.” Olivia lowered her eyes, feeling guilty standing in their spotlight of affection. She hadn’t expected Rafe to give her any credit for Rowan’s victory. On the way over, she’d convinced herself that she had to tell him about Louisville tonight. She hadn’t realized it was a special occasion, and the celebratory mood made her falter. It was bad enough that she had to explain she was moving out of state and that she’d used her photos of Rowan to land the position. But to do so when they had invited her over specifically to toast Rafe and Rowan’s success? Olivia’s stomach twisted with anxiety.
Gina tore romaine lettuce leaves and threw them in a big glass bowl. She added sliced Bermuda onion, fresh mushrooms, crisp bacon, hard-boiled eggs and shredded Parmesan cheese.
Mica walked into the kitchen wearing what Olivia privately considered the Barzonni dress code: blue jeans, pale blue cotton button-down shirt and cowboy boots. Although Mica was a year younger and an inch shorter than Rafe, the two looked like twins. Mica, however, didn’t beam quite as brightly as Rafe. He was probably exhausted from a long day in the field.
“Hi, Mica.” Olivia smiled. “Can I pour you a glass of wine?”
“No,” Mica said, holding out his arm. “You’re our guest tonight. Remember? I’ll pour you some wine.”
Rafe, who had been helping Gina with the salad, donned a pair of oven mitts and took the lasagna out of the oven. The kitchen filled with the aroma of basil, oregano and fennel. “Bellisimo, Mama!” Rafe laughed and kissed Gina on the cheek. “This will be the best one yet.”
“I’d like to think so.” Gina shrugged apologetically. “But this was all I had left of last year’s tomatoes. It’s not the same when the tomatoes aren’t fresh, and it’s a long time till harvest. I refuse to use anyone’s tomatoes but our own.”
They sat at the huge kitchen table, which Gina had covered with a blue-and-white Italian print linen cloth and matching napkins. Mica put the salad on the table, while Gina served up the plates with lasagna and bread.
Rafe poured wine for everyone and then offered a toast. “To Rowan’s win. Our champion. And to Dad. This is your night, Papa.” He lifted his eyes to the ceiling.
They all clinked glasses and then said a blessing.
* * *
AFTER DINNER, MICA helped Gina clean up the dishes and put the food away while Rafe walked Olivia down to the stable. “I figured you’d want to congratulate Rowan yourself,” he said, putting his hand on the small of her back.
Olivia slowed her pace and then stopped. It was now or never. “Rafe, could I talk to you about something?”
“Sure,” he replied, pausing beside her.
The sun was down and the solar garden lights had come on. They had just stepped out of the puddles of golden light that fell from the windows of the big house, and they were still far from the glow of the stable.
She lifted her eyes to his. “This is pretty serious.”
“Is it as serious as what we discussed on Saturday? Because I’ve been thinking—”
“No,” she cut him off. “It has nothing to do with that.” She glanced away, wondering how to say what she needed to say. “I have some news to tell you. Really good news, actually. For me. This is something I’ve been working toward for a long time. All my life, really.”
“This is about your photography?”
“Uh-huh.” She clasped and unclasped her hands. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and squeezed her arms. This was harder than she’d imagined. When she’d rehearsed her speech in front of the mirror, it had seemed to roll off her tongue, but now, looking into his eyes, which were so dreamy and filled with the kind of caring she’d always hoped to find in a man, she lost her nerve.
But she couldn’t back out now. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I don’t know exactly how I did it, but I finally had the courage to send my work out to some publishers. Magazines, mostly. I got a lot of rejections. It was amazing how fast they turned me down.”
He put his hands on her shoulders. “It’s okay. You keep at it. Someone is bound to see what I see.”
“What’s that?”
He grinned widely. “That you’re the best photographer on the planet.”
“Well, one magazine thinks I may have what it tak
es. They gave me a test assignment of sorts and they liked my work. In fact, they called before I came to dinner. They want to hire me.”
Rafe didn’t react immediately, but then his eyes lit up like bonfires. “That’s great, Olivia! We have another victory to celebrate.”
She chewed her bottom lip and sucked in a breath. He probably assumed the publication was local. He was simply happy for her achievement. But was it possible that she meant enough to him that her aspirations were important to him, as well? For much of her life, she’d been closed off. She’d kept a lot of her deep troubles and feelings to herself. She hadn’t wanted to bother anyone with her phobias or sorrows. People had their own problems. They didn’t need to be burdened with more. She hadn’t allowed anyone to get close to her.
Except Rafe.
She’d told him things she hadn’t expressed even to her mother. Of course she hadn’t wanted to hurt Julia, but digging down, she realized she’d feared rejection. She’d been afraid people wouldn’t accept her, being the daughter of an addict. The offspring of someone so flawed and diseased who he’d abandoned his family. Olivia had assumed that people would think she was as weak as her father.
And had her father been weak? Or had he been strong to leave them? In his way, had he saved them from further pain?
Olivia’s head throbbed with anguish as each conclusion led to another question still unanswered, still tormenting her.
“Rafe, there’s something else. About the job. It’s in Louisville.”
“Louisville.” He said the syllables precisely, as if forcing them to register in his head.
“I have to move there.” Olivia felt as if her insides had slipped out of her. She was cold. Numb. Hollow.
Rafe’s smile dropped off his face like melting wax. “Move?”
“Yeah.” Her mouth was dry and gritty. She continued, “The magazine is overburdened with the Kentucky Derby coming up. The editor, Albert Allen Simmons, was so shorthanded, he handled my interview himself. After the Derby, they’re sending me on a shoot in New Mexico. Another in California.” She was frantic to find her earlier excitement, but failed.
“Move? Out of Indian Lake?”
“Yeah.” Now was the time to tell him the worst part. “The name of the magazine is Lexington Trophy. It’s new and they do a lot of features on horses and racing. Covers. Albert wants to use my shots for the cover.”
“What shots?” Rafe dropped his hands and shoved them into his pockets.
Olivia forced herself to form the words. “The ones I took of Rowan in the winner’s circle. Albert hasn’t seen my photographs from Saturday—”
“Saturday? The Illinois Derby he just won?” Rafe shook his head and then raked his fingers through his hair. “Let me get this straight. You’re telling me you’re moving out of town. For good. To Louisville. And you’re going to be using photographs of my horse to snag this job?”
She reached out for him, but he recoiled. “Rafe. That promise I made you shouldn’t make any difference anymore. Rowan’s pictures are everywhere now. He won in Illinois. Albert could buy shots from any stringer there—”
“Fine! Let him!” Rafe turned to walk away but then paused. He stuck his face right next to hers, his anger spilling over. “I don’t care if Rowan’s photograph is on all this guy’s covers, Olivia.”
“You don’t? Then why are you so mad at me?
“You don’t get it?”
“No, Rafe. I don’t. I think you’re being selfish and unreasonable.”
“Me? Unreasonable?” he barked and pointed at the stable. “That horse was my dream. Is my dream. All I see here, Olivia, is you using Rowan to make your dreams a reality. Because of my devotion to him and my desires, you’re able to step out of our lives.”
Olivia realized she had broken his trust in her. She felt his pain as sharp as a dagger to her heart. The rift between them was quickly forming a gulf and only she could stop it. She scrambled for a solution. “Rafe, I’ll tell him that Rowan is off-limits. That he can have anything else but his pictures. If he thinks I’m good enough, there will be other shoots in the future.”
“Olivia.” His voice was softer now. “I want you to be ambitious and test-drive your talent. You deserve that. You really do. I’d be the first one to tell you that you should take this chance. It’s just, this is a shock. Moving away is a big deal.”
“I know.”
“Does this sudden decision have to do with your father by any chance?” He splayed his hands. “Look, I know it’s difficult to heal those wounds, and I think you believe you’re not hurting my feelings when you avoid talking about it. But it still hurts. We tiptoe around it, but it’s the elephant in the room. I think because you couldn’t trust him, you can’t trust me. That’s why you used Rowan’s photos when I asked you not to. I wasn’t the priority. I’m trying to understand you, Olivia, but all I feel is betrayed. You wanted this shot at your career, and by getting close to me, you got more access to Rowan. You were able to take more photos of him. Bottom line is that our relationship didn’t tip the scales in my favor. So, in the end, maybe we just can’t be together.”
“Rafe, that’s not true!” she said defensively, feeling the burn of her defection. She’d lost him. And she was desolate.
“Yeah...” He chewed his bottom lip and glanced into the distance. “I’m afraid it is. So, I’ll tell you what, Olivia. You go to Louisville and you get your dream. Go on those great shoots you mentioned. Grab fame. But count me out of your plan.” His voice was steady and brittle. He’d put his hands on his hips as he spoke, but his knuckles were white, as if he was using all his strength to steady himself. “In the end, Rowan and I served our purpose for you, didn’t we?”
An eerie sensation flooded through Olivia, as if death had just laid his hands on her. “What are you talking about?”
“You got you what you needed out of us, didn’t you? I guess you can always say we gave you this shot at the big time.”
He spun on his heel and waved over his shoulder. “Good night, Olivia. Have a good trip.” He stalked away and never looked back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
TEN DAYS IN Louisville had felt like a month. Olivia slugged back a bitter-tasting chain-brand cappuccino, wishing for even a sip of Maddie’s brew. She hadn’t slept more than five hours a night since she’d driven into town with her van piled high with clothes, linens, kitchen utensils and her inflatable bed. She felt she’d barely seen the inside of her own apartment, much less unpacked a single suitcase or duffel bag. All she’d done was work.
Albert had not only assigned her to two journalists, Lucrezia and Bart, but he’d also given her a shopping list of photographs he wanted taken over the next three weeks. He’d handed her a Garmin, an iPad and an old-fashioned street map. “You need to learn the city but fast,” he’d said, shoving a thick manila file of photographs of Thoroughbreds into her hand. “We have less than two weeks till D-day. That’s why I needed you here so quickly.”
“The Derby, you mean.”
“That’s right. Morning, noon and night you’ll be shooting anything and everything related to the Derby. We’ll run interviews with the owners for months. Most of these horses will go on to summer and fall races. I want to know about their futures. I want to know if they’re bringing up another horse for next year. Do they have stablemates? You will be everywhere they are until the Derby is over.”
“Got it.”
“Lucrezia is doing pieces on these first nine horses. Bart has the rest. He’s an old pro at this. I gave him more ground to cover because he can do it.”
“And I’m assigned to both of them? I appreciate your confidence in me.”
Albert’s face had registered a ghost of a smile. “You’re young, O
livia. Lots of energy. Until the Derby is over, I’m depending on your youth just as much as your talent.”
“I see,” she’d replied, wondering if that was a compliment. “I’ll get on it.”
Olivia’s desk was a small, drab army-green metal unit parked in a distant corner of the office. In her first hour on the job, Olivia had realized she couldn’t use the rehabilitated six-year-old laptop she’d been given and volunteered her own computer. She was able to edit her photographs both at work and at home using her trusty laptop. It had worked out beautifully because Olivia could use it at her desk, in her car, at her apartment and in the coffee shop at the corner.
No matter how busy she’d been or how many hundreds of shots she’d taken and submitted each day, not an hour passed that she didn’t look at her cell phone hoping to see a call, text or email from Rafe.
But there was nothing. It was almost as if she was dead to him.
Her mother, on the other hand, had communicated at least once a day. Julia had been just as surprised as Rafe that Olivia had won the job, but her reaction had been much different. Surprisingly, Julia wasn’t concerned about replacing Olivia, which hurt Olivia’s feelings more than she cared to admit. She’d been her mother’s right arm since the first days of the deli. They were the Two Musketeers, or so Olivia had thought.
“Goodness, Olivia,” Julia had said. “It’s nearly summer—half the graduating class from the high school will come knocking for a summer job. I’ll pick one or two and train them. If they’re good enough and show interest, I could always move them into the catering, as well. I’ll figure it out. Besides, this is the moment you’ve always dreamed about.” She had caressed Olivia’s cheek, but there was only joy and pride in Julia’s eyes.
“Gee. I thought you’d be all teary-eyed and beg me not to go.”
“I envy you this move. I’ve always dreamed of Florida. I wouldn’t move there permanently, of course. Just for the winters. Louise Railton closes every December and comes back in April and she’s like a new woman. She’s met so many friends.” She’d looked down at her hands and then back up at Olivia. This time Olivia saw a sheen of tears, but they weren’t for her. They were for Julia’s own lost dreams. “Maybe someday.”
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