Worth the Wait

by Jamie Beck

  Oh my. She lusted after his professional-grade equipment. Impulsively, she jumped up.

  “Excuse me. Hi.” Her gaze fixated on his Nikon. “Would you like me to take the picture so you can join your friends?”

  He turned to her, smiling like a fox.

  “Grazie mille. That would be very nice.”

  His Italian accent sent a shiver through her body, but she willed her clammy hands to grip his six-thousand-dollar camera. Handling the apparatus gingerly, she couldn’t imagine ever affording something so extravagant.

  The improbable gang of friends huddled together while she fired off several shots.

  “This is a great camera. The resolution must be phenomenal.” When she returned it to him, his fingers grazed the length of hers. Tingles shot up her arm. “I’m Vivi, by the way.”

  He raised her hand to his lips. “Vivi?” His eyes twinkled when he repeated her name aloud. Despite the flush of warmth traveling to her toes, she managed to speak.

  “Short for Vivienne.”

  “Ah.” He nodded. “I’m Franco Moretti.” When he released her hand, the impression of his fingers remained on her own. “Do you know cameras?”

  “Yes. I’m sort of an amateur photographer. And you?”

  “I freelance for various travel magazines.”

  “Oh, wow.” Franco’s appeal grew tenfold. Vivi envied his dream job. What could be better than being paid to travel the world shooting pictures of its most beautiful and interesting locations?

  Cat cleared her throat.

  “Oh, this is my friend Cat.” Vivi stepped aside, assuming Franco and his friends would prefer to focus their attention on her gorgeous friend. “Cat, meet Franco.”

  Cat issued a two-finger salute from her seat. Franco nodded before placing his hand on the small of Vivi’s back and snapping his fingers to gain his friends’ attention. His touch sent another jolt of awareness along her spine. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t shifted his interest to Cat.

  “Vivi, Cat, these are my friends Billy, Joe, Mike, and Ross.”

  Vivi observed the other men eagerly greet Cat before eventually retaking their seats and resuming their own conversation. The ragtag group intrigued Vivi.

  “What brings you all to Block Island?” she asked Franco. “Are you working?”

  “No, not working. We’re all here celebrating a mutual friend’s thirty-fifth birthday.”

  “Oh.” Vivi considered whether she could overlook the nine-year age difference in favor of his sexy accent and handsome face. “A guys’ weekend?”

  “A big party.”

  “Sounds fun.”

  “A reunion of sorts. We all went to college together.” He glanced at his friends. “In fact, some of these guys played in a rock band back then and are planning to perform to really stir up old memories.”

  “Very cool!” Vivi glanced at them and tried to picture them fifteen years younger, rocking it out on stage.

  “Yes, although they’re not as excited now that Sarah, the singer, had a last-minute family emergency. These guys aren’t singers so much as musicians.”

  “Vivi can sing!” Cat interjected.

  “Oh, no.” Vivi’s cheeks ignited. “I’m not a rock singer.”

  “She’s being modest. She takes voice lessons and sings at a local bar in Astoria on the weekends.” Cat’s victorious smile shocked Vivi.

  That remark caught the band’s attention and thrust Vivi into the spotlight.

  “Really?” Franco asked. “Il destino!”

  His deep brown eyes coaxed Vivi to admit the truth. Darn her soft heart.

  Joe skeptically asked, “What kind of stuff do you sing?”

  Franco’s intense gaze interfered with Vivi’s ability to concentrate, causing her to stammer a response. “Um, songs by Sheryl Crow, Sara Bareilles, Ingrid Michaelson, Patty Griffin. Sometimes I’ll arrange acoustic versions of random pop songs.”

  “What about Avril Lavigne, or Pink, or anything like that?” Joe asked. He looked her over with an appraising eye. Oh, crap. She doubted she had the chops to pull off those throaty rock vocals.

  Anxiety crept up Vivi’s neck. She had two options: get in over her head, or disappoint others. She hated disappointing anyone. “Well, I know some of their songs, but I’ve never performed them.”

  Everyone ignored the timidity in her voice.

  “Wanna try? We can muddle through on our own, but if you could jump in on vocals, it would be way better.” Joe’s friendly eyes conveyed his sincerity. “You could bring your friend, or friends, to the party. The DJ starts at nine, so we’re just planning a short set.”

  “I don’t know.” Vivi glanced at the men, silently questioning herself for considering this folly. “I’ve never sung with a full band. I usually perform alone.”

  “Let’s go back to the house and test a song or two. Worst-case scenario, it’s a no-go, in which case we just break out the beer.”

  Franco stroked her arm with the back of his fingers, sending goose bumps scattering across her skin. “Why don’t you look at the songs and try.” He flashed an encouraging smile. “No obligation.”

  “Fun! Let’s go, Vivi.” Cat clapped her hands. “Come on. Please! This will be so much more interesting than anything else we might do today.”

  Vivi regarded her friend’s enthusiasm and the band’s laid-back attitude. Spending a little more time with Franco also held more appeal than watching Laney with David.

  The adventure might be fun. In fact, it was beginning to feel like an irresistible challenge, which was how she often ended up knee-deep in trouble. Shrugging, she heard herself saying, “Okay. I’ll give it a whirl.”

  Thirty minutes later, she and Cat parked their bikes in the circular driveway of a stunning blue home off Beacon Hill. The tabletop property offered gorgeous views of the island and the ocean. Pounding hammers shattered the otherwise peaceful setting as workers swarmed the yard, constructing temporary outdoor flooring and flowing white tents in the rear of the home. “Big party” was a serious understatement, Vivi thought just as a German shepherd came bounding around the side of the house.

  Cat froze. “Oh, God!”

  Vivi looked at the dog’s high, wagging tail. “It’s okay, Cat.”

  She put her bike’s kickstand in place and made a soft clucking sound with her tongue, then stopped about ten feet in front of the dog and crouched a bit. She held out the back of her hand as the dog approached her and sniffed. Glancing over her shoulder, Vivi noticed Cat hadn’t moved, her eyes wide with caution. “Really, he’s fine.” Then she turned back to the dog. “You are a handsome devil, aren’t you?”

  Franco came through the front door. “I see you’ve met John’s dog, Panzer. He likes you.”

  “Vivi’s great with dogs.” Cat said, finally finding the courage to get off her bike.

  If only people were as easy to manage as dogs, Vivi’s life would be much easier, she thought.

  “Everyone’s inside.” Franco waved his hand toward the door and followed them into the entry.

  Plate glass windows brought the outdoors inside. The airy, bright home smelled of lemons and sunshine. An absence of drapes and carpeting sharpened the sound of each footstep, cough, or chair scraping along the floor. Vivi admired the juxtaposition of contemporary artwork with the otherwise traditional beach house decor.

  After a brief introduction to the resident birthday boy, John, she sat at the glass dining table to scan the set list. Someone set a cold beer in front of her. Although she typically didn’t drink much, a little liquid courage couldn’t hurt, so she chugged a third of the bottle while reading.

  Joe leaned over her shoulder, flicking his thumb and fingernail together repeatedly. Her hand grasped her stomach while she tried to ignore his hovering and refocus. She knew three-quarters of the songs pretty well becaus
e they were very popular.

  “Do you modify the arrangements, or do you play songs as originally recorded?” she asked.

  “We keep our covers pretty true to the originals.”

  Vivi nodded with a sigh. “I’m pretty familiar with many of these, which isn’t the same as knowing them cold.”

  “Let’s give one a try and see how it goes. It’s not like we’re Coldplay or anything.”

  Joe strummed the melody of Michelle Branch’s “Goodbye to You” while Vivi sang the first verse and chorus. Satisfied with her vocal ability, he launched into a serious discussion of the original set list. After eliminating several songs, they whittled it down to a single sixty-minute set. When the discussion concluded, Vivi sat back in dismay at what she’d just agreed to do.

  “If you have time now, we should start rehearsing so we can make it as good as possible,” Joe suggested. “Afterward, we’ll hang out and have a few drinks.”

  Dazed, Vivi responded, “Okay.” She glanced at Cat, who sat chatting comfortably with Franco and John. “We don’t have other plans anyway.”

  Cat must’ve felt Vivi’s apprehension reach across the room. She turned and then approached Vivi, whispering, “You look uncomfortable. I thought you wanted a shot at a beach fling with Franco. Are you angry with me for putting you on the spot?”

  Yes! But thanks to this commitment, Vivi wouldn’t have time to think about David and Laney during the next few days. It was a step in the right direction. She should kiss Cat’s feet.

  “No. I could’ve refused. I only hope I don’t screw up.”

  “You won’t! You always underestimate yourself. Have faith!” Cat hugged her friend. “I just know this will be so much fun.”

  Vivi smirked. Sure it would be fun for Cat, the one without responsibility or risk of failure. On the other hand, this performance would make the vacation memorable—for something other than meeting David’s girlfriend. When else might she ever have an opportunity to sing with a full band?

  Vivi had always believed the fun of life lay in the thrill of the unknown. Smiling, she lifted herself off the chair and looked for a microphone.

  The group rushed to set up for the rehearsal, which got off to a rocky start when Vivi flubbed the lyrics. Wincing, she felt perspiration collecting along her hairline. She bit her lower lip but then caught sight of Franco’s warm gaze. Heat rushed through her, replacing her fears and doubts with determination. She noticed Cat grinning and giving her two thumbs up, so she stepped back to the microphone.

  What’s the worst that could happen?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Laney’s perfectly trimmed fingernails tapped against the side of her wine glass, drawing David’s attention away from the harbor and to her taupe nail polish—a dull, non-color shade. Most days her wardrobe and appearance reflected her personality.

  Severe. Monochromatic. Professional.

  The fact that he hadn’t previously noticed this surprised him. Then again, in Hong Kong he’d dedicated the bulk of his focus and energy toward working on the Kessler merger.

  “Thank you for bringing me here this week.” Laney sat forward in her chair. “It’s been nice to meet some of your family, although I’m picking up on tension.”

  “I’ve been away a long time.” David straightened his posture.

  “Will your dad be coming up over the weekend? I’m curious to meet him, too.”

  He drew a deep breath. “He and I aren’t on good terms, as you’ve probably also picked up on.”

  “I’ve noticed.” She reached across the table to touch his hand. “Would you like to talk about it?”

  “Not really. All you need to know is that my mom made me promise to keep a secret about something my dad did, and I’m bitter about it.”

  “I’m sorry, David.” She squeezed his hand. “But if this is a secret, why is it affecting your relationship with Cat and Jackson?”

  “They know he and I aren’t speaking, and they’re blaming me. Plus, I’ve been keeping them at arm’s length to avoid spilling everything.”

  “Maybe you should just tell them. Why should you suffer alone?”

  “Better I suffer than saddle them with the disgust I feel toward my dad.” David wouldn’t hurt them by destroying their family memories solely to satisfy his thirst for justice. “Besides, my mother trusted me to keep my word. I’ll never betray her.”

  “She’d never know. If your dad deserves to be exposed, Cat and Jackson are grown-ups.” She shrugged with exasperated nonchalance. “Eventually you would all recover.”

  “It doesn’t matter if my mother would never know. I would know.” Laney’s blasé attitude toward integrity offended him. “As for recovering, obviously it’s easier said than done in my family.”

  Clearly Laney couldn’t understand his belief that his word was his bond. It was a point of honor—one of his most prized traits. Vivi would understand, but this was perhaps the only thing in his life he would never confide in her.

  “Let’s not spoil the afternoon by dwelling on this, okay?” He withdrew his hand from hers.

  “That’s your polite way of shutting me out.”

  She slumped back into her chair and sipped her wine just as the harried waitress arrived to remove their plates.

  “It’s about time,” Laney muttered. “I’ve been dying for a refill of my water.”

  The waitress winced. “Sorry, I’ll be right back with that.”

  “It’s busy today. You must be exhausted,” David said to the waitress, trying to compensate for Laney’s rude remark. He collected his things and handed them to her, wishing Laney didn’t sulk whenever she felt frustrated. “Thanks.”

  Shaking her head, Laney exhaled in exasperation. Once the waitress left them, she resumed their conversation.

  “Let’s change the subject.” Her arch glance pinned David. “My free housing ends in two weeks. Should I lease my own apartment, or am I moving in with you?”

  The very idea made his skin itch. Clearing his throat, he repressed the urge to scratch his arms.

  Seizing upon his hesitation, she demanded, “What’s the issue? In Hong Kong I spent most nights with you anyway. Are infrequent nights of freedom so critical?”

  Panic and resentment overshadowed any pleasant anticipation. Not a good sign. They’d never discussed living together. Hell, they’d never uttered the word love. Why was she suddenly pushing this relationship toward permanence?

  If he ever married, Laney possessed many qualities compatible with his life. But he wasn’t thinking of a long-term commitment with her yet. Probably not ever.

  “When you suggested coming to New York, you convinced me you had your own reasons for returning to the States, namely furthering your career. I never made any promises about our future. Now it feels like I’m being rushed toward the altar.” Burning indigestion spread in his chest from hurting her. God, had he totally misread her feelings all this time?

  “I’m not expecting a proposal.” Her impassive expression gave nothing away. “It’s just more economical to share the expense of one home. Why waste money on a second place that sits empty most days?”

  He couldn’t deny her point. Of course, her logical arguments were exactly what landed him in this awkward position in the first place. Had she been deftly manipulating him all along?

  “I’m sorry, Laney. I don’t think living together is the right thing for us.”

  Her gaze dropped to her lap. Although he questioned her motives, guilt prompted him to lean forward and cover her hand with his own.

  “It’s not you.” That much was true. Many men would kill to be in his shoes. “I don’t want to hurt you. You know you’re beautiful and intelligent, and I enjoy the time we spend together. I’m simply not looking for more from dating than what we have now. Have I misled you somehow? I honestly thought we were on the same page.
”

  “Relax. I only suggested it because it seemed convenient.” She produced a weak smile. “It’s fine, David.”

  He hoped she wasn’t lying, but he couldn’t shake the feeling she was putting on an Oscar-worthy performance.

  After lunch, they strolled through the quaint Victorian beach town, browsing the goods for sale in the various small, independently owned retail shops aligning Water Street and the surrounding neighborhoods. Laney insisted on investigating each store, from Water Gallery and Gift, to Mad Hatter, and Full Moon Tide.

  Now and then, David caught himself scanning the crowds for signs of his sister and Vivi as he ducked in and out of each shop. While Laney picked through endless shelves and racks, analyzing all of her options, boredom provided the framework for David’s mind to drift to Vivi’s distant behavior.

  Everything about her unnerved him now. The pain his ugly outburst wrought, her detached manner, his surprising and wholly improper feelings of attraction—all of it drove him slightly mad. For the first time since they’d met, he had no idea how to behave or what, exactly, he wanted. He wished things would return to when they could read each other’s thoughts. When her eyes would meet his and fill with trust and affection.

  “David, isn’t this divine?” Laney held up a severely cut yellow sundress.

  He didn’t consider its mustard tone flattering to her coloring, but after their tense lunch conversation, he merely nodded in agreement.

  Two hours later, they returned to the car carrying packages containing ceramics, shoes, sunglasses, and clothing.

  When they arrived at the house, David popped the trunk open and helped unload the myriad of shopping bags. Together, they hauled her loot up to their room. Heaving the final package onto the bed, he stood awaiting further instructions. Laney began picking through the bags without looking at him. Sighing, he left her there to admire her new belongings and went to find his brother.

  Jackson and Hank stood at the kitchen counter threading cubed chicken and steak onto barbeque skewers. David glanced at the clock. Five thirty.

  “Where are the girls?” He opened a beer and joined Jackson and Hank at the counter.