by Claire Adams
"And Joshua wasn't around to ruin any of it with his grand life plans for your life."
I laughed. "He was there if you count seven messages. Wait. Looks like I just got another one."
Ginny snatched up my phone. "Ugh. He's reminding you to practice before your interview. He even made a bullet point list of techniques. The man has some real control problems."
I took my phone back and saved Joshua's messages. "He has a point, you know. Singing in some tiny lounge is not going to pay the rent. It might be fun now, but I need to think about the rest of my life."
"No," Ginny said. "You need to live your life. Stop spending all your time thinking and planning, and just live it! Let's get back to the part where you admitted you're happy. It's not just the singing, is it?"
"Monterey is a nice place," I offered.
She jabbed me with a sharp elbow. "There's more going on here in Monterey than just nice scenery, and you know it. Spill!"
I laughed and mopped up the coffee I had sloshed on the counter. "I don't have time for this. Joshua's right. I have to go and get ready for my interview."
Ginny blocked my way. "I'll help you prep; I'll even look at that obnoxious list Mr. Uptight sent, but not until you admit there's something else going on with you. With you and a certain man you claim is not your type."
I flopped back onto my kitchen stool. "We already talked about this. Penn is not my type. Not only is he shaggy and tattooed, but he's unmotivated. He's been shirking work for weeks, except when he uses it as an excuse to escape my company. He's got no plan for his future and doesn't seem to care. That's not someone I can picture myself with."
"I'm not asking you to picture yourself with him," Ginny said. "I'm asking you to remember what it was like when you were with him."
My cheeks flooded with color. "I'm not giving you any details!"
"Oh!" Ginny grinned. "Never mind. That blush is telling me everything."
I scowled. "I have to get ready for my interview. We've got to get on the road soon."
"You can't be serious," Ginny groaned. "After the taste you got last night, I was sure you'd wake up and come to your senses. Please, Corsica, think for just a second. Is this interview, this job at the Ritz, really what you want?"
"It doesn't matter if it's what I really want. It's a job that utilizes what I learned in college. It's a job that has upward mobility. It's a regular paycheck. I can't turn my back on it without some kind of parachute, and singing for a tiny cut of the door is not going to save me."
Ginny grabbed my fingers and squeezed them tight. "Your parachute is the people who care about you, really care about you."
"Joshua cares about me," I said, showing her the incoming phone call.
"Joshua cares about what part you can play in his life. He doesn't want you to go off script, and you two aren't even dating. Now, if you were going to decide about this job without worrying about anything else besides your own deep-down opinion, what would you do?"
Ginny wouldn't let me look away. "I know you, Corsica, and you're happy here. As soon as you mentioned the interview, your whole face fell."
I pulled my fingers free. "So what, Ginny? What am I supposed to do? Cancel my interview and cross my fingers that the whole singing thing keeps happening?"
Ginny grinned, snatched my phone, and held it out to me. "Exactly. Call and cancel that interview. Then let yourself be happy."
I took the phone and paced back and forth before heading downstairs to make the call in private. The human resources director answered as I was still on the stairs, and that's when I saw Penn. He was standing in front of the downstairs windows.
I stopped short on the stairs and kept my voice low. "Hello? Hi, yes, I'm sorry to call with such short notice," I said. "My name is Corsica Allen, and I won't be able to make my interview today. No, thank you, but I won't need to reschedule. Something else has, ah, come up."
Penn's eyebrow lifted as he noticed me on the stairs. "Good morning."
"It's nearly eleven," I said. I shoved the phone and my trembling hands into my pockets.
"So, you're probably off to some fancy brunch place then, right?" Penn asked.
I scoffed and looked down at the rumpled, black, cotton skirt I was wearing. "Do I look like I'm going out to brunch?"
"No," he sneered. "I guess you'd have to find a new outfit. Is that blue dress too fancy for croissants?"
"I wore the blue dress last night. Not that you would know," I snapped.
He looked away. "I was busy. I heard you were wonderful. Good for you."
I marched down the stairs, burned by how he dismissed me. "Good for me? After all the times you pushed me into singing. You were the one who got me that audition, for God's sake. And you just happened to be busy?"
"I thought you, of all people, would respect that work came first." Penn folded his arms across his chest and still did not look at me.
Maybe he really had gotten me out of his system. The thought had my stomach crashing to the floor. Was that it? I gave myself to Penn, and now he was done with me?
My skin got hot as I stalked over to where he was standing. If he was going to stand there all ice cold, then the least I could do was try to make him sweat. "I'm just sorry for you. I put on a good show. Though, I suppose, maybe if you begged, I'd reprise parts of it for you."
Penn's eyebrow lifted as I trailed a fingernail along his arm. When he shifted and loosened his arms, I slipped my hand around his waist. My other hand stopped on his flat stomach, and I let my fingers walk up his chest to tug at his beard.
"Go ahead," I whispered, shock adding a sultry vibration to my voice, "you can beg if you want to."
When Penn opened his mouth to protest, I pressed two fingers to his lips. Then, I slowly dragged them down. His eyes were riveted on me, and I made the most of it by licking my lips. His mouth parted, but no words came out. Though, the flexing press of his hands around my waist told me everything I hoped to hear.
Sparks flew between us.
Reassured that Penn hadn't gotten me completely out of his system, I stepped back and flipped my hair. "Too bad. I was willing to give you a private show."
I tried to walk away, but Penn tugged me back. "What are you trying to do to me?"
I blinked and tried for Ginny's wide-eyed innocent look. "What do you mean? I'm just trying to be nice."
"Nice?" Penn's voice was gravelly, his lips just inches from mine. "I have a conference call in five minutes. Nice would be leaving me some use of my brain before I go to work."
I broke his embrace and stepped back. "Well, lucky for you, you got me out of your system. Good luck with work."
Penn growled and caught me back against his chest. He brushed my hair aside and leaned down to speak into my ear. "Stop pretending, Corsica. Just tell me what you want."
I twisted to face him. "I'm not pretending. And for the first time in a long time, I'm not limiting myself to what I want."
"I wish that were true," Penn said, the air squeezing out of his voice. "God, how I wish that were true."
"Why don't you ever believe me?" I arched back to stare him down.
Penn ground his teeth. "I can't believe you because I can't figure out what you want. I can't understand what you actually love. I don't understand you at all."
I walked my fingers back up his chest and tangled them in his beard. Then, I pulled his dark eyes close enough that I could see the gold flecks ignite.
"I want to be happy. I want to sing on that small stage with that heavenly jazz combo again. I want to see the audience smiling, to know their hearts are swelling like mine when the chorus comes. I want to lie back in the quiet night and see the stars above me. And you beside me."
"Beside you?" Penn asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.
"You know what I love?" I asked, my lips almost brushing his. "I love that when I'm with you, I don't want anything but you."
Those words seemed to chase every other sound out of the room. We stood there l
ocked in a vacuum until my lungs screamed for air. I was holding my breath, hoping that Penn would answer me in kind.
Then his phone rang. "The conference call," he rasped.
I let go and stepped back, but his hand closed around my wrist in an iron grip. "Wait," Penn said. "It's my mother. She just got out of her appointment."
I only heard one side of the conversation, and Penn's responses were mostly monosyllables, but his expression was loud and clear. I forgot about teasing him, forgot about the interview I turned down, and forgot about all the wild hopes I had for my future.
"Is she okay?" I asked when Penn hung up his phone.
"She wouldn't say, but her voice sounded strange." Penn blinked and wrapped an arm around me. "She wants us to meet her at Pinnacles as soon as possible. My father's on his way with his helicopter."
I slipped my arms around Penn's waist and squeezed him tight. "There are going to be ups and downs. It doesn't mean the fight is over. Don't worry until Alice has told you everything."
Penn pressed his forehead to my hair. "She sounded so faint. My mother has never sounded faint in her life."
I pressed my cheek to his chest and hugged him closer. "Don't worry before you know everything. You have every reason to still be hopeful."
Penn's muscles were jittering as if he was trying to hold himself together and the strain was too much. "Were you hopeful right up to the end?" he asked in a breaking voice.
I nodded against his chest and squeezed my eyes tight. I drove away the final images I had of my mother and pictured her in her Sunday dress on our sunny front steps. That memory of her all bright and beautiful helped me answer his question.
"I kept my hope right up to the end because it was all I had. And it helped. It really did, Penn. Don't give up," I whispered.
He held me, one hand smoothing over my hair, and we comforted each other. Then the front door slammed, and we both jumped. Xavier stormed down the stairs before we could untangle from each other's arms. When I saw his face, I held fast to Penn.
Xavier looked dead pale except for his bloodshot eyes. He blinked hard to chase away the remaining tears, and his jaw clenched. "Did your mother call?" he bit out.
"Yes," Penn said, "but she didn't tell me anything. What did she tell you?"
"Nothing. Goddamn, I need a drink." I started forward, but Xavier held up two hands. "I haven't touched a drop, but it's making me feel like tearing my skin off."
"Go ahead," Penn snarled. "Have a drink. Finish a bottle. It'll be just like old times, and maybe then we can pretend that my mother isn't dying."
"Your mother?" Xavier shouted. "As if that means you love her more. I love her."
The two men squared off, tense and overwrought. I took a deep breath and stepped between them. Penn growled and Xavier's hard eyes narrowed, but I held my ground.
"Whatever this is can wait until later," I declared. "And right now, we don't know what Alice has to say. The important thing is to meet her and listen to what she wants to tell you."
Xavier's hard exterior cracked. "Why? Why are you still here?"
Penn wrapped an arm around me and pulled me back against his chest. "She's here because I want her here."
"Really?" Xavier snapped. "Because you could have fooled all of Monterey. You're so busy pushing her away when you think no one is looking. What is wrong with you?"
"Everything that is wrong with me is standing right in front of me," Penn bellowed.
"Um, Corsica?" Ginny's hesitant voice dropped down from the stairwell. "There's a helicopter landing on the front lawn."
I pulled free of Penn's arm and swiped back my hair. "I'm here because you two can't deal with this on your own," I snapped. "I'm here because otherwise, you'd spend all your time arguing and forget that the woman you love has something to say. Now, shut up and get in the helicopter."
I led the way up the stairs and didn't stop until Ginny wrapped me in a quick hug. "You're an angel. What can I do?"
I lowered my voice and hoped that Penn was too distracted to hear. "Could you go on my laptop and send my apologies to the hospitality director at the Ritz? I should still be logged in, if you don't mind forging an email."
"Done and done, and I love you," Ginny said.
"What was all that about?" Penn asked as we headed out the front door.
I shrugged. "Just following up on a decision I made this morning."
"You're taking that awful ass-kissing job at the Ritz-Carlton, aren't you?" Penn groaned. "I knew you were still tied up on the money thing. Jesus, Corsica, when are you going to realize that there are more important things than money?"
I saw the pain and worry in his eyes, but his stubborn misunderstanding made me angry. I planted my feet on the front steps and faced him. "I canceled my interview this morning, and good thing, too; otherwise, I would have missed it. At least now they know that I'm pursuing another line of work. I'm glad I turned it down and didn't have to cancel last minute."
"Cancel what last minute?" Xavier joined us on the front steps and buttoned up his suit coat.
Penn's mouth worked, but it was moments before he spat out. "You turned down the job interview at the Ritz?"
Xavier snorted. "She doesn't need that job. You should have heard her sing last night."
"I did," Penn snapped. "I bribed the guy that runs the spotlight to let me watch from up there. I saw her sing. I heard every note you sang, Corsica."
"What is with you and the unnecessary lies?" Xavier asked.
"Me?" Penn turned on his father with a clenched fist.
"What is wrong with you two?" I yelled as the helicopter engine roared to life. "None of this matters right now. Alice is waiting, and she either has good news or bad. All you two have to do is sit on that helicopter and wait to hear which one it is. Do you think you can manage that?"
"I'm glad you're here," Xavier said. He spun on his heel and signaled to his helicopter pilot.
Penn slipped his hand into mine and intertwined our fingers. "I can manage it, if you're with me."
"I am," I said. "And, Penn? I'm not pretending."
#
"I don't want to admit it. I'm not ready to admit it," Alice said in a tremulous voice.
Penn's fingers, still intertwined with mine, flexed. "Just tell us," he begged.
"Let her say it in her own way," I whispered.
Alice's eyes brightened as she looked at me. Then, her attention returned to Xavier and their son. "I was hesitant to go to the doctors in the first place. I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up."
I fought off my own growing panic and concentrated on keeping my breath slow and steady. Penn was so rigid that I was afraid he would crack. Xavier was exactly the same, his clenched jaw expression the exact origin of his son's worried look.
"I guess it was good that I didn't trust them because then my hopes weren't tied to modern medicine. That left room for the real miracle," Alice said.
No one said a word. In the silence, I was sure that Penn had stopped breathing.
Alice reached out and took Xavier's hand. "The cancer cells are disappearing. The doctors think that full remission might be possible. Either way, I'm doing better now than I was before you all came and forced my hand."
"You're better?" Xavier asked with the blank look of shock.
"Yes," Alice grinned. "I'm much better."
"Oh my God. Oh thank God." Penn spun away and pulled me with him. On the edge of Alice's grove, he stopped under an oak tree and sank to the ground.
Still intertwined by the hand, I knelt down beside him. As soon as I settled onto the grass, Penn collapsed into my lap. There was no sound, but his shoulders heaved, and hot tears soaked my skirt. I held his hand tight and used my other to brush back his unruly hair.
"Shh," I crooned over him. "Now you can let it all go. Let it go and let yourself be happy."
"Happy?" Penn snuffled against my skirt and sat up. "Is this happy?"
I smiled and smoothed away his smudged tears
. "This is shock. Relief. Probably a little anger that you had to go through all this in the first place. Once you get all of that out of your system, you'll feel happy."
"Out of my system," Penn murmured. "You know, I lied about that. I know I'll never get you out of my system."
"Shh, we don't have to talk about that now."
Penn let go of my hand and took both my shoulders. "I need to thank you. I need to stop lying to you."
"What you need to do is get up and go hug your mother," I said. "Your father, too, if you can manage it."
Penn pulled me to my feet, and I saw the flicker of a scowl pass over his lips. "One step at a time."
"You're right," I said, "and the first step is to go and celebrate with your family. I'll give you a minute."
In all honesty, it was me who needed a minute. Once Penn had rejoined his mother and father and I could hear their laughter, I stumbled past the oak tree and into the thicker undergrowth. Somewhere in the tangle of ferns and tall grass, I dropped to my knees. The sobs were silent and all the more painful for the lack of sound.
His mother, Penn's beautiful mother, was going to get well. He had countless more dinners and holidays and casual chats with her. I was glad, so glad for him, but all I could do was cry. I cried in relief that this time hope had worked, at the same time as I mourned the time that hope hadn't been enough for my own mother.
"Corsica?" Xavier asked. He brushed aside the ferns and held out a hand.
I waved him away. "I just need a minute."
He sat down in the dirt with me, despite his pristine suit. "No, don't wave me off. I don't know how I'm going to thank you for all this. You were a huge part of this."
I gave up and let Xavier pull me to my feet. "I'm just so glad it was good news."
He smiled. "The good news is that I'm going to kick my son's ass from here to next Wednesday if he doesn't find a way to thank you properly."
Xavier led me back to Alice's yurt and right up to Penn. Alice unwound her brightly clad arms from her son's waist and cupped my face. "Sweet girl, I thought you would be the first one to declare a celebration and the last one to shed tears."
"We're going to let them celebrate on their own," Xavier declared. "How about one of those luxury tents? The one with the chandelier?"