by Jamie Pope
She led him down the hallway and back into the great room. He let go of her hand and walked around the room, his eyes turning critical.
“I don’t like it.”
“What?” His words shook her.
“The bedrooms are fine. I don’t like this room or the living room. I don’t like the paint in here.”
“Are you kidding me? The paint is the only thing you have seen in here. You even saw them paint it and didn’t have one comment.”
“I don’t know. I thought it would all come together when all the furniture arrived, but I don’t like it. It looks too rich in here. I feel as though I’m in somebody else’s house instead of my home. I want you to redo it. And do my bedroom, too.”
“What are you trying to pull, Carlos?”
“Nothing.” He looked around the room again. “It doesn’t feel right.”
“But I asked you! I asked and asked! You never had any input. You said you didn’t care as long as it looked nice. It looks nice. It looks beautiful!”
“It does. For somebody else. For my sister, maybe. Ava would love this, but I don’t. I hired you to do something I would like and I want you to do it over.”
“How? What do you want in here? What color paint? What kind of furniture? Do you even know? It’s going to take weeks to do this over!”
“Why are you so upset, Virginia?”
“Because I poured myself into this job, into you, and you don’t like it.”
“It’s not me.”
“What do you mean by that? I had you in mind the whole time. This place is perfect for a superstar athlete, perfect for somebody like you.”
“Not somebody like me. I want it for me, and I’m not a superstar, or an athlete. I’m a man who wants to live in a place that feels like home. Please do it over. Do it like you would do your own place.
“My own place? I don’t understand.”
“Just make it feel like home. Make it feel like a place you would want to spend the rest of your life.”
She opened her mouth to ask for more clarification, but he walked away and she was left wondering what the hell she was going to do next.
* * *
That night Carlos went down the hallway that led to Virginia’s room. The house was finished. It looked great, amazing, even. Virginia was a talented designer and he had no regrets about hiring her. How could he? Even if the house had looked like garbage, he couldn’t regret hiring her. She had given him much more than money could buy. She had brought him some happiness when he was least expecting it. But there was something off about the house.
Having her redo it wasn’t a ploy to get her to stay, even if it was true that he didn’t want her to go, but the house didn’t feel like a home. It felt like a showpiece. That was not what he’d wanted. Maybe he should have been more clear about he desired, but he was one of those men who didn’t know what he wanted until it was right in front of his face.
He arrived at Virginia’s room to find that the door was closed. This was the first time he’d found it this way since he had started spending his nights there. He turned the knob, planning to enter anyway, but it didn’t move.
She had locked him out.
“Virginia?” He knocked on the door, knowing that she had been upset with him earlier, but he never thought she would lock him out. “Come on, baby. Don’t lock me out.”
She opened the door, but just enough so he could see her face. It appeared he was going to have to make himself comfortable in the hallway.
“If you think you’re going to tell me you hate my work and then come down here and have sex with me, you’ve got another thing coming, Mr. Bradley. I’m not a booty call.” She tried to close the door on him, but he wouldn’t allow her.
“I know you’re not a booty call. You’re my best friend. You know me better than anyone. I have so much love for you. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about your work.”
She stared at him for a long moment, a dozen emotions crossing her face, but the one that stood out for him the most was hurt. He had hurt her, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.
“I know, Carlos. I’m just not sure I can do this anymore. I don’t think I can finish this job. I’m planning to leave tomorrow. I can recommend another designer for your bedroom and remodel.”
“So you’re going to walk out on me just because I don’t like some furniture and paint?”
“I’m not walking out on you. I’m walking out on the job.”
“Bullshit. You can’t tell me that, after living with me for the past few months, this is just another job to you.”
“It’s not just a job! Of course it’s not just a job. I love you, damn it. I worked hard for you and wanted you to be in love with what I did because I poured so much of myself into this job, into giving you something worthy of you. Then you tell me you don’t like it and I’m left to think my best isn’t good enough.”
“It’s two rooms, Virginia. Two damn rooms. I like the rest of it. I’m not doubting your work or your skills. Why do you think I asked you to do my bedroom? All I want you to do is make the rest of the house feel like this room. Like the inn. Someplace I don’t...” He trailed off, realizing that she had just admitted to loving him. He loved her, too, but he felt as if saying the words right now would be empty, as though he was just saying them to appease her. He wanted to show her. He wanted her to know how much he meant them. He wanted to give her a reason to stay.
He could have lived with the house the way it was, but he was starting to think he couldn’t live without her and he just didn’t know how to put that into words.
“Someplace you don’t what?” She blinked at him, confused.
“I just want you to make it feel like home. Make it feel like your home.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her softly. “I don’t want you to leave. Just think about staying. Sleep on it.” He kissed her again and then backed away. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
* * *
Sleep on it. That was the last thing Carlos had said before he’d walked away from her last night. Sleep had been impossible for her. Maybe she had overreacted when he’d asked her to change things. If it were anybody else she would have just taken it in stride. She would have changed her plans. She would have redone whatever without question. But it wasn’t any other client. It was Carlos. It was the man she had stupidly fallen in love with.
Her mother had been right. She always let her feelings get in the way. She had done it again. She had been prepared to walk away from him, to go back to her life to continue her business, and prove to her mother that she could still be successful even when she got her heart involved. But then Carlos had thrown her for a loop when he’d told her that he didn’t like her work. It had made her feel as if she wasn’t good enough. It had made her feel how her mother so often made her feel, that no matter how well she thought she had done, she had never done well enough. She had never made the right choices.
She didn’t think she could go through that again. She was scared to death that she would do it all again and he still wouldn’t like it. She was scared to death because she knew the longer she stayed, the harder it would be to leave. Because she was deeply in love with him and all he had said was that he had love for her.
Love for her.
Not that he was in love with her.
She had been through a lot with men, but she couldn’t take it again if someone she loved didn’t love her back. All the way. As much as she loved them.
Her cell phone rang just as she was about to leave her room. Her mind was still not made about what she was going to do. She had never quit a job. She had never run away. She didn’t want to start now. She didn’t want to be weak, but she didn’t want her heart crushed, either.
“Hey, girl,” Willa said when she picked up. “I got your te
xt. Mr. Hot Baseball Player driving you crazy?”
“Yeah. I’ve been here for months. I asked him what he wanted. I went to him with paint options and furniture catalogs. He was with me when I picked out fixtures and he never said a word about anything. He had no opinion. And now he hates it.”
“The whole house? He can’t.”
“No. Not the whole house. Just the common rooms. He said it doesn’t feel like home. But what the hell does home feel like for him? For me? For anyone?”
“Damn, Gin. I’ve never heard you get so worked up over a man or a job.”
“I don’t know if I can do what he wants. I’m famous for getting my feelings involved. I got them too involved this time. I fell in love.”
“I don’t think you always get your feelings involved. You love easily, but you don’t fall in love. You lived with that French guy for over a year, and instead of crying over him like most people, you changed your life.”
“I followed him across the country. I left my job. I must have loved him.”
“Were you in love with him?”
“No.”
“See!”
“What’s your point, Willa?”
“My point is that’s it’s okay if you got your feelings all tangled up. It’s okay if you fell in love with a fine-ass superrich baseball player, because, girl, who wouldn’t? And don’t worry about what your mother thinks. She’s just doing her job. She’s cautious so you don’t have to be.”
“What am I going to do about Carlos?”
“You are going to finish this job to his satisfaction, and if he can’t see how wonderful you are and if he doesn’t get down on his knees and beg you to stay, then screw him. You’ll have a great story to tell in the memoir I’m going to help you write. But just make sure you get one of those infamous parting gift baskets on your way out.”
Virginia laughed. It was the first time in days she’d felt like doing so. “I love you, Willa.”
“You should, honey. I think I’m going to be in New York for Christmas. I want to see you. It’s been forever.”
“I’ll make sure of it. Even if you don’t come home, I’ll come to where you are. You are my family, too.”
A few minutes later they disconnected and Virginia felt steady enough to leave the safety of her room and face him. Willa had put everything into perspective for her. If all she got out of this experience was a good paycheck and a couple of months of sex with a man she loved, she had gotten more than she had ever dreamed of.
She had let the argument with her mother shake her confidence. But she was a good interior designer. She just had to learn to give him what he wanted.
She opened her door, losing her breath as she saw what was in the hallway. Canvases. Large, high-quality, blank canvases that had been impossible to find on the island. There were smaller ones, too, and paint. Beautiful, richly colored oil paint. The kind she used when she was at her best. Every supply she could ever need was sitting there in front of her. Smocks, easels, brushes. Her heart pounded faster.
He had done this. He had done this for her, but how? Why?
She ran up the hallway to find him. He was in the great room, looking up at the picture she had chosen for the spot above the fireplace.
“I couldn’t put my finger on what was wrong with this room,” he said. He must have heard her come in. “There’s no you in here. You put somebody else’s art in here. You put this stupid picture of... What the hell is this?”
“It’s an abstract. It’s called Fjord in the Morning. I picked it because it went with the color scheme.”
“It’s stupid, is what it is.” He glanced back at her. “I looked you up. When you told me you used to be a painter I had no idea that you’ve sold your pieces all over the world. You’re known for your use of color and your realistic style. An article said in a world of wannabes and posers you’re the real thing. Now, how could I have the real thing in my house and not have her give me the one thing I can’t find anywhere else?”
“How did you do it?” she asked, breathless. Her heart was beating so hard she could barely hear her own thoughts. “How did you get all of that stuff here?”
“I’m blessed.”
“You’re rich,” she countered, and she couldn’t help but smile.
“I just want you to paint, Virginia. I saw your work at the inn. I don’t know a damn thing about art, but I know you have a gift. I know that when I come to this house I want to be welcomed by your work.”
She didn’t know what to say. Instead, she walked her behind him and buried her face in his back.
“There’s a photographer coming from Miami Home. She’s going to do a spread on this house.”
“What?” She walked around to face him. “Why?”
“Your work deserves to be showcased. And think of how good it will feel to tell your mother that you’ve got twenty jobs lined up, all because you slept with me.”
“She’ll accuse me of sleeping my way to the top.”
He shrugged. “It’s better than sleeping your way to the bottom.”
A laugh escaped her throat. “I love you, Carlos.” Those words escaped too easily. She hadn’t meant to say them. But she didn’t want to take them back, either. Carlos should know that he was loved.
He grabbed her hips and pulled her into him. “I want you to stay here with me. I want to be with you.” He slid his hands into her hair, brought her lips to his and kissed her deeply. “I guess I’m saying that I don’t want to be your friend anymore.”
“Oh? I think I stopped being your friend a long time ago.”
“Really?” He grinned at her. “I never wanted to be your friend in the first place.”
“Take me to bed, then. I need to see how people who aren’t friends make love.”
Chapter 13
A month had passed. Christmas had come and gone. It was the first time they had been apart since Virginia had come to Hideaway Island. She had gone to spend the holiday with her best friend Willa, and he had taken his siblings to spend a few days with his mother, who was stateside after spending most of the winter in Costa Rica.
He had gotten to visit with his older sister and her family. He had spent time with his mother, who still had sadness in her eyes when she looked at him because he reminded her of his father.
But, despite that, he had had a nice time. Though part of him had felt a little empty. He had missed Virginia. He hadn’t been sure if he would. He’d thought he might welcome the space from her since they spent every day together. It had been like that with every other woman. He would look forward to time on the road so he could have time to himself, but it was the opposite with her. He had even cut his trip short so that he could go home to her.
They had been together in the house, but she had spent her mornings painting in private and her afternoons redoing the rooms he had asked her to. She was completely overhauling them. The walls had gone from that cream color to a soft ocean blue. She had gotten rid of the sleek furniture, the things that screamed to the world that a flashy millionaire lived there.
She had even started taking small jobs on the island. More recently, she was working with the senior citizens’ community center, redoing their dining room. She had carved out her own life here on the island and she was happy. Her happiness was contagious, because he hadn’t felt this good in years. So healthy. It was why he was afraid to tell her what he was going to tell her.
He walked into the billiards room, which she had turned into a makeshift studio since Carlos had never enjoyed pool. She was painting, and for a moment he silently watched her work. He’d never thought watching somebody paint could be entertaining, but it was with her. Especially when she worked with such a large canvas. It was as if she was using her entire body with each brushstroke.
She was working on
the sky at sunset. There must have been a hundred colors in the sunset alone, and below it was the beach that was right outside their home with a single man overlooking the ocean. The way she had the light hitting the man made it seem as if there was magic around him.
“That’s beautiful, Gin.”
She turned around and smiled at him. There was paint smudged on her cheeks. “I’m very fond of this one.” She picked up a photograph and handed it to him. It was of his father in his younger days. He was standing on the beach, facing the camera, a big grin on his face. “I think he would like to look over the ocean.”
He didn’t know what to say so he hugged her tightly, now wondering if he should even bother to tell her his news at all. “How did you get that picture?”
“Your mother sent it. She sent me a bunch. Didn’t she tell you?”
“No. You spoke to her?”
“She called while you were at the doctor. I like her, Carlos.”
“I’m sure she likes you, too.” He paused for a moment. “I came here to tell you something about my doctor’s appointment.”
She looked up at him, her face full of concern. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, that’s just it. I’m in the best shape of my life, he said. My Achilles is fully healed. He thinks I can go back for spring training.”
“That’s great!” She threw her arms around him and held onto him. “That’s great, right?”
“He’s just the local doctor. I have to see the team’s specialist in Miami before I’ll know for sure. My agent wants me to come back for some meetings that I’ve been putting off.”
“Meetings about what?”
“My career. Even if I do go back, Virginia, I need to start thinking about life after baseball. I have to do something. I’ve been on vacation for a year.”
“I wouldn’t call this last year a vacation. You took two classes. You got As in the both of them. You worked so hard.”
“I know, but I need to do more.”