Stepping into the shower, she let the hot water spray her face. She had to get Joe out of her head and get her life back on track. None of this made any sense.
She’d just shampooed her hair when the door opened and Joe stepped in behind her. “Morning,” he mumbled at her neck as he slid his arms around to cup her breasts. The heat from his body enveloped her. His scent melted her resistance. Everything about him rendered her weak.
“I was thinking, once we get back, we could—”
“Please, Joe. I can’t.”
He stilled. An awkward moment hung heavily in the air until he dropped his arms. “I get it.” She felt him shrug. “Cruise is over, right?” Then he stepped out.
Carly stood under the steaming water, motionless as Joe dried with a towel and left the small bathroom. She clenched her teeth. Why should she feel guilty? He’d known the score from the beginning.
With a sigh, she shut off the water and grabbed a towel. When she padded into the main cabin, Joe was dressed and sitting on the bed putting on his shoes.
“Look, Joe, I—”
“I said I get it. No explanation necessary.” He stood, went over to the dressing counter and shoved his wallet and key card into his pocket.
Carly tucked the towel tighter around herself, her wet hair dripping down her back. “It’s just that I barely have time for sleep right now. All my energy is focused on making a success of my blog. I was in a relationship a couple of years ago. The guy got tired of barely seeing me. He wanted more and I didn’t blame him. But I wasn’t willing to give up my dream.” She paused. “I’m still not.”
Joe moved to her side. He cupped her cheek with his palm, bent and gave her a soft kiss on the mouth. “Thanks for the honesty.”
She bit her lip. What else was there to say?
He nodded, then left the cabin, shutting the door behind him.
He was gone. She closed her eyes, rubbed her stomach where it burned. Did she have indigestion? And there was a lump in her throat.
It didn’t matter. Real life wasn’t a cruise ship vacation. Real life was about achieving her goals. It was about making something of herself that had nothing to do with being the daughter of Charles Pendleton.
She couldn’t afford to slow down her pace, to let herself go soft. Joe was a great guy. But he’d never survive a relationship with her. Reese hadn’t. And there was no sense putting herself—or Joe—through that kind of heartache.
Still, she wished he was here. Missed his big warm body and strong arms around her.
And his smile.
And that way he had of making her feel as though everything was going to be okay. That she was okay.
What was she thinking? Of course she was okay. Irritated, she quickly dressed and applied her makeup. She packed and set her luggage in the hallway for the steward and went to the upper deck.
The next hour was chaotic directing everyone involved with the shoot off the ship and through customs in the Miami terminal and then making sure everyone got rides to the airport with their boarding passes for New York.
As usual there was a commotion around Piper. The model was complaining about waiting in line, people crammed around her, snapping pictures with their cell phones. Carly approached her to let her know the limo was waiting with her favorite brand of champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries when she heard a high-pitched yapping echo from the exit.
Piper cried out and darted out of line. “Pootsie!” She raced past the customs officers, her arms outstretched.
Carly followed Piper’s trajectory past customs to see the supermodel’s short assistant carrying the yelping dog in her arms. Then, Carly watched in horror as all proverbial hell broke loose.
The dog escaped the assistant’s arms, jumped to the floor and scrambled toward Piper.
Customs officers chased Piper, grabbed her arms and tried to drag her back to the check-in area.
Piper shrieked and began fighting the officers like a wild animal would fight capture. “Do you know who I am? How dare you? Take your hands off me!” As phones videoed and cameras flashed, she stomped her stiletto heel onto one officer’s boot and slammed her enormous bag into the other’s head, knocking him down.
Two more officers ran to help.
Carly stood helplessly as Piper was subdued and handcuffed.
Of course, the crowd was in a frenzy of gleeful cell- phone videography.
Piper was screaming. Her assistant already had a phone to her ear, calling, Carly presumed, Piper’s agent. Better still, her lawyer.
Piper wrenched out of the guard’s hold and swiveled to scream at Carly. “This is your fault.”
And suddenly the officers were scrutinizing her.
“I’m only on this cruise because of her. Do you know who she is?” Piper continued, loud enough for everyone in the vicinity to hear. “That’s Charles Pendleton’s daughter. She’s got all that money her father stole. You should be arresting her!”
Carly looked around the terminal. Travelers had gathered to gawk. Just like before. People staring at her. Wondering how she was involved. Judging her.
One of the guards dropped Piper’s arm and approached her. “Ma’am, is this woman with your party?”
Carly’s stomach cramped and nausea rose until she tasted bile. “Yes.”
“Would you come with us, please?” the officer asked.
The gray walls of the terminal wobbled out of focus. Memories hit her with a sickening thud. Having to sit in court while her father glared at the jury. Reporters swarming wherever she went. Asking her if she’d known of her dad’s crimes. The people who had spit at her, called her horrible names. And her so-called friends? She’d had to change schools after she was dragged into a bathroom and harassed by a group of classmates whose parents her father had swindled out of millions.
As she swayed she felt callused hands catch her elbows and gently guide her to a chair.
“Put your head between your legs. Take a deep breath.” It was Joe’s voice, soothing, calm.
She tried to speak but it seemed her jaw was locked. Her teeth chattered.
Because it was happening all over again. She’d be questioned by the police. Scrutinized by the media. The magazine would blame her. She was responsible for this photo shoot. Once the scandal was linked with Modiste, Carly’s career would be over. Four years of coming home from the sixty-hour-a-week day job to add new content to her interactive blog, of interning for designers, building relationships with department-store buyers. Every new reader a triumph, every new ad on her blog a sign that she might just make it.
Now her dreams were disintegrating into ashes.
“Carly!” Gentle fingers threaded through her hair and lifted her face. “Baby, look at me.”
Carly blinked and Joe’s dark brown eyes came into focus.
“Breathe.”
She did as he asked. Such beautiful brown eyes. Kind eyes.
“That’s it. Now let it out slowly.”
She released her breath. He had such kissable lips. The bottom lip was fuller than the top. Soft, yet masculine. The things those lips had done to her.
“That’s good.” He turned his attention to someone outside their little world. “Where’s that bottle of water?”
“Here. Take a sip of water.” He held a bottle to her lips.
Joe. So sweet. Caring for her. Carly longed to lean into him, have him wrap his arms around her and make all her troubles go away.
And that’s exactly why she wouldn’t. She wasn’t some weak waif who needed rescuing. Joe had worn that same worried expression when Piper’d had her panic attack.
Carly touched his cheek. “Thank you, I’m all right now. Cristoph!” She got to her feet, calling to the makeup artist, motioning for him to come close. He’d been a friend since they’d worked at the same Manhattan salon and spa back in college. She knew she could count on him. “I’ve got to see what I can do to help Piper. Can you make sure the store liaisons get their clothes safely onto
the flight to New York, please?”
Cristoph nodded, and immediately began directing the clothing handlers, the hair and makeup teams, and the Modiste liaison to the exit.
One worry over, she headed for the customs search area. Maybe she could still save Piper. Talk to her attorney, maybe avoid any charges before they were ever officially made. If this mess concerning Piper didn’t go away fast, Carly could kiss her contract with Modiste Magazine goodbye.
Hadn’t Modiste realized the young supermodel was a walking terror? The girl’s photo was splashed all over the front covers of the tabloids for hard partying and losing her temper with the paparazzi. But she was the hottest model out there and Carly had gone with the decision figuring a successful shoot would outweigh any problems.
Carly sighed. Piper was her responsibility for now. And all she could hope for was containment.
The customs officer was waiting for her to accompany him and, clenching her fists, she strode with him and Piper’s assistant to the room where Piper was being detained.
When she glanced back, Joe was nowhere to be seen.
* * *
SHE NEEDED HER PILLS.
It took Piper three tries to cover her face with her scarf, her hands were shaking so badly. Of course the handcuffs didn’t help. She lowered her chin as she stepped out of the cruise terminal, prepared to be bombarded by the paparazzi. She could’ve told Carly that waiting until all the other passengers had left wouldn’t make a difference. The parasites who made their living off the lives of others wouldn’t be deterred.
“Piper! Over here!” One pest called to her above the din of shouting cameramen.
Cameras flashed like fireworks popping all around her and she tucked her face into her arm, letting the officers lead her down the gangway to the waiting police car.
Shame filled her as she sat in the back and lowered her head to her knees. She’d never committed a crime before. Well, not since she’d been a starving child. Why did she do these things? She didn’t understand her reckless behavior. But sometimes she felt as if she would burst inside if she didn’t scream at the world. And when that feeling took over, she didn’t care about consequences, or who got hurt. Even herself.
What would happen to her now? Her career was at its peak. And she had gone through so much to get to this point. She had fame, financial stability and could go anywhere, live anywhere she wanted to. But in this moment what she really wanted was to be left alone. No, that wasn’t right, either. What she really wanted was to be with her brother.
Could she just pay a fine and maybe perform some community service? In the customs detainee room, Carly had suggested she ask her agent to retain a good defense attorney.
She closed her eyes and prayed. If only she could get out of this with a light sentence she’d...
She had no incense, no garlands or vermilion, and if she’d ever been taught the songs of praise, she didn’t remember them now. The gods would not listen to her.
But people bargained with their gods, didn’t they? What hated thing could they require of her?
The answer came to her in a whispered voice.
If she received a light sentence and was not sent to prison, she would go back to rehab. And vow to be good from now on.
8
AH, IT WAS good to be home in New York! This city was full of people just like Carly. Focused. Ambitious. Impatient.
She stood at the circular baggage claim at JFK tapping her foot. Checking her cell. Waiting for her luggage.
The Piper fiasco had gone badly and an assistant editor from Modiste had texted that they wanted a meeting tomorrow, but at least she had today to recover and prepare.
They couldn’t blame her for what had happened, could they? Would they decide not to publish her photos in their magazine now? Until she knew something more, she could only proceed as normal.
Pulling up the contacts on her cell, she texted Piper’s manager, then the legal department at Modiste to follow up on Piper’s arrest. She daydreamed of pouring herself a glass of Chardonnay and soaking in a tub until her skin turned all wrinkled. But that wasn’t going to happen. Thanks to her cruise-ship fling she was way behind on sorting through the photos on her laptop. She had to decide which ones to submit. Narrowing them down wouldn’t be easy. Piper and Joe had taken some phenomenal shots. But there were a couple of solos of Joe...
She couldn’t believe she’d let herself get involved with her contest winner. What had she been thinking?
Joe appeared at the other side of the baggage carousel and hadn’t spotted her yet.
“Joey!” A short, plump woman with salt-and-pepper hair rushed to Joey with her arms outstretched. Joe wrapped his arms around the lady and hugged her with an expression of such love...Carly’s chest ached.
Before she could dig an antacid from her purse the guy was surrounded by a mob of dark-haired people who all resembled each other and him. She’d never seen so many large white-teethed smiles. Everyone had to hug him and kiss his cheek and hang on to him. A short gray-haired lady even pinched his cheek.
There had to be at least half a dozen of them clinging to his arms and talking all at once. It made Carly claustrophobic on his behalf. But he didn’t seem to mind. He smiled and returned hugs and stooped to pick up a hyper toddler while keeping one muscled arm around his mother. The woman was patting his cheek and gesturing with her hands as she talked. Good grief. The way they all acted you’d think he’d been missing for years instead of on vacation for five days.
And yet, as Carly watched them all standing around talking with each other, they seemed more than just happy to see Joe. These people were a unit. A cohesive group. They seemed bonded to each other by more than just bloodlines. They seemed...to truly love each other.
Yeah. Probably last two minutes. Once they got in the car they’d be at each other’s throats. That’s what families did.
She was about to check her vibrating cell when Joe looked over at her. His smile slowly disappeared.
Carly stepped away from the carousel and raised the phone to her ear, pretending to talk. Hoping that would deter him.
After a couple of minutes of fake phone conversation she ventured a peek in his direction. He was headed for the exit, arm in arm with the older woman who was probably his mother, with kids hanging on to his legs and arms, jumping around him. Her throat tightened. What a sap.
But did she mean Joe? Or herself?
Where had that thought come from? Shaking her head in self-disgust, she spied her suitcase on the carousel and moved to grab it. Once outside, she hailed a taxi and spent the ride texting with Piper’s manager. He tried to convince Carly they could spin the arrest disaster into a win for the magazine. Modiste would only sell more copies because of the scandal. He agreed to meet her at Modiste’s offices tomorrow morning and maybe together they could convince the editor.
That settled for the moment, she dragged her luggage up the three flights to her studio apartment, kicked off her heels and padded over to the refrigerator.
Maybe she’d have that glass of Chardonnay after all.
* * *
“BUT, JOEY, I made sausage meatballs.”
Joe smiled indulgently at his mother. She knew he couldn’t resist the house specialty. “Okay, Ma. I’ll stay.”
After the wait getting through customs, the second rejection from Carly in the cruise terminal and the long flight to JFK, he just wanted to go home to his own place and pop open a beer in front of the TV.
He needed time to sort out all the crazy things he was thinking and feeling. But that would have to wait. All four of his older siblings, their spouses and their kids just happened to be hanging at Ma and Pop’s. And it wasn’t even Sunday. You’d think no one in their family had ever been on a cruise before.
“Geez, Al, isn’t this a school night?” Joe asked as two of his nephews started fighting over the PlayStation.
“Are you kiddin’? I want to hear all about the supermodel. What’s her name? P
aulina?”
Alfonso’s wife hitched their toddler higher on her hip and rolled her eyes.
“It’s Piper,” his other brother, Bernardo, contributed. “What was she like, Joey? Sexy, I’ll bet.”
Joe cleared his throat and headed toward the group of kids in front of the TV. “How many of you rug rats want your presents now?” He opened his duffel and pulled out the cruise-ship gift-shop bag full of toys and stuffed animals.
All the kids except Rosalie’s newborn jumped and squealed as he distributed the souvenirs.
“Joey, you shouldn’t have,” Donna-Marie exclaimed, shoving his shoulder when he handed her a miniature sailor’s uniform for baby Alberto.
Joe shrugged and settled at the big kitchen table as his loud family gathered around, all talking at once. His ma snuck him a plate of meatballs with a wink. His dad lounged in his recliner and tried to pretend he was reading the paper while kids crawled all over him. His parents’ house was like Brooklyn itself. It never changed. It just got more crowded and noisier. Which was great most of the time.
But he kept picturing Carly standing all alone at the airport. Her lips pinched, her brow creased. He’d wanted to go to her, put his arm around her and assure her the thing with Piper would blow over. But she’d made it clear she didn’t want or need his comfort. He had to accept that and move on. What they’d had was just a vacation thing.
“So, did you take lots of pictures?” Rosalie snatched his cell phone from his shirt pocket.
“Hey!” He tried to grab it back but she tossed it over to Donna-Marie.
Joe folded his arms. He wasn’t “Little Joey” anymore, and he refused to play keep-away. Sometimes being the baby of the family still sucked. Even if he was a foot taller than either of his sisters.
Donna-Marie clicked his phone open to his photos. “Oooh, is this the pool on the ship?”
“I want to see.” Rosie raced over to her sister and leaned in to stare at the phone screen.
“Meet any nice girls there?” Donna-Marie swiped to the next photo. “Who’s this?” She turned the phone so the entire room could see a picture of Carly on the ship. As with most of the pictures he had of her, he’d taken it when she wasn’t looking.
Cabin Fever Page 6