Finding You

  But my sense of angst doesn’t pass, even after three glasses of wine. My stomach is tight and I struggle to eat the appetizer. Harrison is amiably chatting with Amanda and Eva is laughing at something Matthew says.

  I feel lost. She touches my knee and looks at me. Her eyes are worried but deeply understanding, although I have been a perfect bastard. I caress her back and feel her naked skin. A vibrant electrifying shiver. It’s what I need. I move my hand up to the back of her neck and gently pull her toward me. She is surprised. I kiss her. I keep kissing her because that feeling of angst is disappearing. I keep kissing her because she still wants me, in spite of my stupid, childish behaviour. I move away when I hear someone discreetly coughing. She blushes. I turn and see my father. He smiles and takes the wine glass from my hand.

  “Don’t worry, dad, I am not drunk yet.”

  “Perhaps some of our guests should disappear—” he whispers to me.

  “Yes, more than one. For different reasons.”

  I look around and realize Matthew and Eva have really disappeared. Amanda and Tina have resumed their conversation. Then Tina excuses herself to go to the ladies room. I follow her walking with my eyes. More than one person turns to look at her.

  When she is back, I ask, “Are you ok?”

  “Better than ok!” Inquisitively I look at her. “I trapped a snake in a toilet stall. I’m afraid that when she frees herself there will be a big drama. Are you ready to go home?”

  I have a suspect. I laugh. “How big was that snake?”

  “I will tell you only that she was dressed in blue.”

  When we get home I am still laughing thinking about Valentina locking Eva in a toilet! She takes her coat off and with a sense of liberation throws off her shoes. She goes to the window to look at the views by night. I can’t stay away from her. I’m attracted like a magnet. I hold her looking at our reflection in the window. I never saw myself like this, like in a photograph, my face leaning next to a womans. I take her in my arms and move to the bedroom. Tonight we re-discover our intimacy.

  Chapter 31

  Valentina

  These first weeks in New York have been crazy. We worked hard every day. We were able to deliver the project one day before the deadline, although several problems occurred during the process. The following week we all were on tenterhooks waiting for the results. The news that we won arrived eight days later.

  James and his father were on top of the world! During that suspenseful week I invented anything possible to distract him. I didn’t want him to obsess about the project. I transformed him into a tourist: Guggenheim Museum, the Statue of Liberty, even Saint Patrick’s cathedral. I could see how frustrated he felt. I learned how to identify his tense behaviour: he becomes silent and withdrawn. I came to the conclusion that trying to talk or amuse him is useless. Sometimes that is even worse. I just try to make him feel I’m there and on his side.

  We are in the second week of April and I think my boss will be restless until he signs the contract. Thank god there are only a few days before that date because his mood changes are becoming more and more frequent. The day before we are scheduled to leave for Boston, I feel really sick. I have a terrible headache and can’t focus on work. Natalie has disappeared all week, exactly when we needed her. Even in the weeks before, I have to say, she wasn’t really present; she spent most of her time helping Matthew.

  When the phone rings it’s like a hammer in my head. “Harrison.” I answer.

  “What’s going on? You don’t sound in very good shape.” It’s James.

  “In fact, I don’t feel well. Is everything ok at your father’s office?”

  “Yes. Listen can you find the telephone number of the hotel in Boston?”

  “If you tell me what this is about, I can take care of it.” I answer blowing my nose.

  “My father and Matt need to come back on Sunday evening and, by the way, you don’t need to come.”

  “What?”

  “You have been sick for at least two days. You need to go home and go to bed. I will send Nancy to buy something for your flu. I don’t want to hear any objections. Is that clear? Please, Tina, rest.”

  So instead of visiting Boston I spent the whole weekend in bed with a high fever and a sore throat, coughing. I hate to be sick. I get bored and feel useless. Only James’s calls to cheer me up.

  “Hi, how do you feel?”

  “Like hell. I still have a fever and a terrible headache. I blow my nose every two minutes. And you?’

  He laughs. “Pretty well. We are going out for lunch later. The city is a nightmare because of the marathon. Traffic jams everywhere and hard to find a restaurant that’s not packed. I wanted to come back tonight, but I have to go to a dinner with two important journalists from CNN and ABC.” He remains silent for a minute. “Tina, I miss you. Now that I am used to sleeping with you, it’s hard to fall asleep alone.”

  “Remember those words when you are back and can’t sleep because of my coughing!” He laughs again.

  I go back to the sofa to watch TV and I fall asleep. When I wake up it’s already three thirty. Nancy left me something to eat, but I’m not hungry at all. While surfing the television channels the word ‘Boston’ catches my attention. I go back to that channel. Marathon. Bombs. Explosions. Wounded victims. With shaking hands I turn up the volume. The journalist is saying that two bombs exploded in Boston. The first bomb detonated near the Marathon finish line, thirteen seconds later the second one exploded one block away. The images running in front of my eyes are frightening: people flee screaming and others lay on the ground wounded. Police cars, fire trucks and ambulances are arriving on the scene with sirens wailing and lights flashing. My head is spinning. Trembling I take my phone and call James. A metallic voice tells me the number I’m trying to reach is not available. Please, God. No! I can’t believe something happened to him. No, please, God help me! I begin to cry and the tears cloud my eyes. I finally find the hotel telephone number. The line is busy. I rush back to the living room. The TV continues to show horrific scenes. I pause for a moment, completely astounded by the tragedy. Then I regain control and run into James’s study. When he called he said he was going to lunch at Pigalle Restaurant. I look for the street and check it on Google Maps. Oh Jesus, no! The restaurant is just a few blocks from the finish line. I lean on the desk and can’t stop crying desperately. Suddenly I hear my cell phone ringing in the other room. I rush to answer.

  “James?”

  “No, Valentina. This is Mark. I wasn’t able to speak to him, tell me you have some news.”

  I try to speak sobbing. “No. The restaurant is right there—” It’s the only thing I’m able to say.

  “Oh Christ! I tried to call the hotel, but I’m afraid the lines are down. Listen, I know someone who lives in Boston. I will ask him to go to the hotel and check on James. As soon as I know something, I will call you back. Keep calm. Don’t worry.”

  I hang up without thanking him or even saying goodbye. On the TV the news flash starts to show the number of victims.

  “Tina, I miss you.” Those words keep echoing in my head. I am still sobbing. I try his cell phone again. Nothing. The hotel’s line is still busy.

  I leap up and run to my bedroom. I quickly dress, I take my purse, my cell phone, my diary and the keys. I take the elevator and rush down to the garage. Two hundred and twenty miles to Boston. The equivalent of three hundred fifty kilometres. I can be there in three or four hours. I take his Audi R8. I get in and put the hotel’s street address on the navigation system. I put on my seat belt and leave. After a few minutes I turn on the radio. The number of the wounded is growing minute by minute. After two hours I have to stop at a gas station. Now they are talking about one killed. My head is exploding and I can’t breathe. I am suffocating. I feel my heart suddenly quicken. No, damn it! Valentina, this is not the moment for a panic attack. I get out of the car, I walk a little trying to breathe. I take the iPhone and call his number. Silence. I
call the hotel again. The line is down. I throw my phone on the seat. I breathe deeply and start the motor. I’m on my way.

  After one hour I see Boston. I am approaching the centre following the voice of GPS. Now I see a long line of cars in front of me. I didn’t think of the barricades. Of course! They only allow rescue workers, medical personnel and police to pass through. I stop the car on the side and look for alternative routes. The GPS shows that only two miles separate me from the hotel.

  I check the GPS on my iPhone. It works. I will walk there. I leave the car and begin to run. My coughing gets worse because of the strong smell of burnt rubber in the air. There are a lot of people on the street walking frantically. The police make us detour from the central streets to outer routes. The two miles become three. After more than half an hour I hear sirens wailing and see a huge number of rescue workers: I’m getting closer to where everything happened. The crowd has dispersed and the scene before my eyes is frightening. It’s dusk, one can see broken glass, backpacks, scattered shoes and little flags, along with upside down barricades, everywhere on the ground. I try not to look. I’m almost there and walk faster. The hotel should be behind this corner. Here it is, I rush in. The lobby is packed with people. I know his room number. I take the elevator to the seventh floor, room 773. God please, let me find him! I knock on the door. Nobody answers and it’s locked. I knock again and again. I have tears in my eyes. When he finally opens the door and I see him, I throw my arms around his neck. It’s real. It must be real. I squeeze him and cry. He squeezes me tighter and lifts me off the ground. He’s alive.

  “Shh, Shh… I’m fine. Look at me.” He whispers, but I can’t stop crying and clinging to him. “Tina, look at me. Don’t cry. I’m fine.” He gently moves me away. I dry my tears with my sweater sleeve and look at him. I touch his cheek. He has a band aid and several small cuts on his face. I’m crying again. He embraces me.

  “Love, don’t cry. Calm down, I’m here.”

  “And your father? Did you speak to him?” I ask, trying to swallow some water.

  “Unfortunately not. I lost my cell phone and the hotel’s lines are down.”

  I pass him my cell phone. He calls his father who answers on the first ring. He reassures him and explains I am in Boston. We hold one another for a while without talking. He breaks our silence.

  “I was looking out of the restaurant. A girl outside smiled at me. Then the first explosion. All the windows shattered and flew into the restaurant. Shortly after that, a second explosion. I found myself on the floor covered in broken glass. I couldn’t understand. That girl, having been thrown inside the restaurant by the second explosion, was lying close to me. It took me a while to stand up, my leg hurt. I dragged her outside. I was afraid the building would come crashing down on us.” I look at his face again, my eyes filled with tears. “It’s nothing, Tina. Just a few stitches.” He says caressing my hair. “When I didn’t understand what was happening, I thought only of you and of the possibility of not seeing you again. I prayed for a chance to tell you I understood. Yes, I finally understood what exists between us.” He lifts my chin. “I’m in love with you, Harrison.”

  I don’t remember what happened after that. I wake up with a terrible headache. I jump up with the feeling that I’ve arrived too late. In the dark someone moves beside me.

  “I’m here. Don’t worry.” I take one of his hands to make sure he’s there. “Tina, try to sleep. You have high fever.”

  I go back to sleep still holding his hand. When I finally wake up again, it’s daylight.

  “Good morning. Are you hungry? I went downstairs to get something to eat.” He places a tray on the bed. “Have a croissant.” I shake my head. “That’s an order!” Reluctantly I take it.

  “Listen, Harrison, I was wondering how you got to Boston.”

  It is the question I feared— “I took your Audi. And before you ask, I think it’s about two miles from here, but I don’t know precisely where. Sorry, I wanted to find you.” He smiles. He doesn’t appear angry.

  “It’s not a big deal. It’s just a car and anyway it has a locator system to be found with.”

  He smiles again, but he’s very pale and tired. Even with all he went through, he’s here with breakfast for me.

  “Let’s go back to New York.” I say. “I feel better. Let’s leave today.”

  “You had high fever all night. Don’t you think it’s better to rest here for another day?” Then looking at his leg, he says, “I’m not sure I can drive.”

  “I will drive, James. I’m ok.” I want to bring him back home, away from this tragedy he experienced. He’s still hesitant. “Please—”

  “Ok. I will go down to the lobby and find someone to locate the car.” He leaves. He didn’t touch his breakfast.

  I begin to fear the psychological consequences of what’s happened to him. I take my phone and call Simon. He should still be at the hospital.

  When James returns I’m ready to leave. Someone knocks on the door and when I open it I see an elderly gentleman, his face worried and tired.

  “Good morning, sorry for disturbing you, I am looking for Mr Spencer. At reception I was told this is his room number.”

  James moves towards him. “I am James Spencer, may I help you?”

  Tears cloud the man’s eyes and he extends his hands to hold James’s tightly. “I am Carol’s father, I just wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart for rescuing my daughter. She was born with a heart problem and if you had not been there, I don’t know what would have happened… You reassured her and saved her life.” The man begins to cry, while James seems petrified and is absolutely still.

  I touch the father’s arm and offer him a glass of water.

  He shakes his head and lets go of James’s hands. “No, thank you. I need to go back to the hospital, but I wanted to meet you in person. My daughter heard you tell the paramedics your name and your hotel. I rushed here before you could leave the city.”

  Spencer is still motionless, like a statue. I ask, “And how is your daughter now?”

  “She’s in a state of shock, but she is alive thanks to your fiancée. They kept her at the hospital for some tests related to her heart disease. Now I will go back to her. Thank you again, Mr Spencer. God bless you.”

  James doesn’t say a word. As soon as I close the door, he returns to packing his clothes as if nothing had happened. I am still holding the doorknob. I don’t know what to say, what to do, but I know this is not a normal reaction. Simon told me on the phone to trust my instincts.

  I come over to the bed where he’s packing and slowly lean on his back. He stops. I embrace him, holding him tightly. He catches his breath and I can hear his heart racing. He clenches his fists and begins to cry. Thank god, he’s freeing himself of all those terrifying emotions. He sits on the bed and now he’s sobbing.

  “I love you.” I whisper. This is the truth. What I have known for so long now and was afraid to say. Only in moments like these can we find the strength to be honest.

  He pulls me towards him and kisses me sweetly, desperately. He lifts the bottom of my sweater and his face disappears under it. His hungry lips cover my breasts with kisses. Every inch of my skin is tortured by these lips, this tongue. I unbutton his shirt and then his jeans. I slip them off, carefully because of the stitches in his leg. I concentrate my kisses on his wound and move up between his legs where I remain. I hear him breathing heavily. He pulls at the sheets trying not to move. I feel his body shudder and then relax. I feel his strength and his fear draining.

  *

  The New York apartment sounds like an office switchboard. Now the doorbell rings. It’s Mark Spencer. I open the door and before I can even greet him, he embraces me tightly. His son saves me, becoming the next victim of that bear hug. I feel a little bit like an intruder in this family’s emotional moment, so I try to walk away, but James’s father stops me. His voice sounds like thunder. “Where do you think you’re going, girl? You and I n
eed to talk!” I turn and walk back towards this sweet, gentle giant “Thank you, Valentina, not only for rescuing James in Boston, but also because you gave my son back to me.” I feel touched and slightly embarrassed. Then addressing James he adds, “We need to celebrate. Can I invite you and your fiancée to dinner at the Club tonight?”

  Fiancée? I am waiting for James’s reaction, but his words are completely unexpected.

  “It’s a wonderful idea. We’ll be there. Thank you!”

  As soon as Mr Spencer leaves, James comes closer and with his finger he touches the crease on my forehead. It runs between my eyebrows when I worry about something.

  “I love you, Valentina Harrison. You must come to terms with this.”

  His cell phone rings again.

  Chapter 32

  James

  The atmosphere at dinner was cheerful. From time to time I felt the pressure of her hand on my knee. She understood immediately when my anxiety began to overwhelm me. When I heard a loud noise in the room, her touch reassured me.

  At the end of the dinner I stand up to thank my father and I hear breaking glass crash behind me. I feel as if I’m suffocating, there isn’t any air. I clench my fists and tighten my jaw. I squint my eyes, but all I see is the mayhem of Boston before me. I really can’t breathe. I hear words buzzing around me that I can’t understand. Someone holds my face. I open my eyes and recognize her. She is caressing me.

  “Breathe, Jamie. Breathe deeply and slowly, my love.” I obey. “Yes, like this. Breathe.”

  The tightness around my throat loosens and air begins to flow to my lungs. When I regain control I see my father looking at me with terrified eyes.

  “Don’t worry, dad. I’m fine now.” And it’s true. Tina is still holding my hand.