Andy didn’t answer. He was way too conflicted. He was full of shit; he had feelings for her, and that was that. But this time he wasn’t going to play the fool for a woman. This was about work. She was work. Kate’s pain tore at his conscience, but he pushed it away. All great artists faced this. Not that he was comparing himself to the great artists, but whether you were a writer, musician, painter, or a photographer, every artist had a duty to his vision—was compelled to tell the truth as he or she saw it, even if it hurt someone’s feelings. He didn’t want to hurt Kate. He thought her scar was beautiful. And maybe, truth be told, he was attracted to how vulnerable and self-conscious she was about it. To the outside eye, it wasn’t as hideous as she seemed to think it was. But the fact that she felt that way about it made her very human. We all have private pain, Andy thought. He wasn’t trying to exploit hers. But he couldn’t pass up this opportunity.
“Tell Amanda not to worry,” Andy said. “I won’t mislead Kate. I’ll be up front, and nothing but professional.”
“Why can’t you be happy for me? Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a crush on someone?”
“So you admit it,” Amanda said. “You have a crush on him.”
“Yes,” Kate said. “And believe me, it’s mutual.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“Why are you acting like this? Why can’t you be happy for me?”
“He’s going to hurt you, that’s why. He’s not like Jeff, Kate. Very few men are like Jeff.” Kate pedaled faster, because what she really wanted to do was ram her bike into Amanda’s and knock her over. Did Amanda think she was a child? Did she not realize that Kate knew there was no one else like Jeff, never would be anyone else like Jeff? Tears stung her eyes as she sped up. What was she to do? She was young and hopefully had a long life ahead of her. She couldn’t just lie down and die because Jeff did. She used to feel that way. She spent many nights angry she was still alive. Endless nights where she wished she were dead, where life didn’t seem worth living without the love of her life. It had taken an enormous effort to get this far. And Jeff would want her to be happy again. So why didn’t Amanda?
“Hey,” Amanda said in between heavy breathing. “Why are you going so fast?” Amanda caught up with Kate, and when she saw her face, she almost steered her bike into a bench.
“Are you crying?” she said. “Kate, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” Kate put on the brakes. The bike screeched, and Amanda almost plowed into her.
“Yes, you did,” Kate said. “You don’t want me to be with anyone else.” The women stared at each other as Kate’s words sunk in. Kate was in full-blown tears now. “You think I’m betraying Jeff, don’t you?”
“Kate.”
“There isn’t a single day that goes by that I don’t think of him,” Kate said, barely able to speak through the lump in her throat. “Not a single day.”
“Oh, Kate, I know. I’m sorry.”
“I know a man like him only comes around once in a lifetime. Lightning doesn’t strike twice. Don’t you see? That’s why Andy’s the perfect rebound.”
“I don’t think it’s a rebound if it’s been five years,” Amanda said.
“It feels like yesterday to me,” Kate said.
“I know. Me, too.”
“But I still have needs.”
“I know.”
“And Andy’s perfect. A player like you said. A perfect summer fling.”
“And the fact that he’s gorgeous and rich has absolutely nothing to do with it, does it?” Amanda said. Kate smiled. Amanda reached over and wiped the tears off Kate’s cheeks.
“I just miss him,” Amanda said.
“I do, too,” Kate answered. “But he would want me to live.”
Amanda tugged on Kate’s long-sleeved shirt. “He’d hate this,” she said.
Kate didn’t reply, but the look on her face was enough to stop Amanda from pursuing it any further.
“So are we done with the exercise shit?” Amanda said instead. “Can we have some wine now, please?”
“Race you to it,” Kate said.
Kate could barely contain her excitement as she got ready for the evening. It was nice to know she could still feel this giddy, still get butterflies in her stomach. They were much better than the knots that had taken up residence the past five years. Andy was taking her to the Break House, a five-star restaurant overlooking the ocean. It was a celebration for the shoot, which was to start the next day.
“You have to tell me everything,” Amanda said. “Or—Pete and I could just happen to show up and sit near—”
“No,” Pete yelled from the other room. Kate laughed and turned back to the mirror. She was ready. She’d chosen a pink dress with a matching wrap. Her hair was up in a bun, and she was wearing dangling earrings with little diamonds. It was the outfit she’d planned on wearing after the wedding ceremony, as soon as she could sneak away and get out of the hideous plum dress.
“I can’t believe you just happened to have a dress like that with you,” Amanda said, eyeing her suspiciously.
“Lucky, huh?” Kate said. No bride ever wanted to hear they’d picked a hideous dress. Many a bride went to great lengths to convince the poor maids she’d picked one they’d be sure to wear again and again. Hell was probably full of them.
“Well,” Amanda said, “it’s ‘game over’ after he sees you in that dress.”
Kate tried to diminish the compliment, but the grin taking over her face gave away her pleasure.
Andy had offered to pick her up, but Kate wanted to meet him at the restaurant. It was a short walk along the beach and up the street. She was nervous and hoped the walk would help calm her down. Just a few weeks ago she was regretting this trip. It was such bad timing, what with being fired, broke, and having no idea what she was going to do with the rest of her life. But look at her now. Andy was going to pay her to do a modeling shoot, and she was going on the first date she’d had in five years. Oh, men had asked, all right, but Kate had first thrown herself into her grief, and then into her work. Traveling outside the country left little time to date, and saying “No” to every offer didn’t help, either. She would have thought she would have missed sex, but even that didn’t bother her after a while. Until Andy. Meeting him the way she did, in his bedroom, on his bed—was that why she was suddenly sex-crazed?
It didn’t hurt, of course, that he was incredibly sexy. She could tell by his demeanor that he would be good in bed—they would be good together. And what was more romantic than a man taking pictures of you? If the photo shoot turned out anything like the photos she’d seen of Michelle, she would have beautiful dresses to wear, flowing hair, flawless makeup. Would he have professionals to help her with that? It was fine if he didn’t; she was pretty good at doing it herself.
As Kate climbed the steps to the entrance of the Break House, she turned to take in the panoramic views of the ocean before going in. She took a deep breath and laughed at the tripping of her heart. She couldn’t wait to sit across a candlelit table from Andy. She couldn’t wait to get to know him better. She couldn’t wait to see what he looked like, what he was wearing, and the look on his face when he saw her in the dress. It was going to be a great night.
The restaurant was a stately old mansion divided into exquisitely decorated dining rooms. They boasted cherrywood floors, original crown molding, crystal chandeliers, deep-set stone fireplaces, and floor-to-ceiling windows whose sole purpose was to draw in the Break House’s oceanfront views. Kate’s eyes feasted on every gorgeous detail, and when she looked outside she noticed the shade of pink threading through the sunset matched her dress perfectly. That, she decided, was a very good omen.
Chapter Eleven
Kate was having difficulty making sense of the table in front of her, given that it was filled with people. Mark’s mushroom-face was the first one she saw. Then Tony. Andy was seated in the middle of the table, but he didn’t look up at her. He actually had a portfolio on
the dining-room table and was studying it as if trying to save the world from imminent disaster. To his left sat a nice-looking black man in a suit and trendy glasses. He smiled at her and motioned to an empty seat next to him, across from Andy.
“So this is your new model,” the man said. He held his hand out to Kate. “Harris George,” he said. “I’m Andy’s agent.”
“Nice to meet you,” Kate said quickly, trying to cover her shock. Amanda had been right; this was no date.
“You’re late,” Andy said, still not looking up. Kate smiled at the faces around the table as she tried to swallow the irritation and humiliation she could feel building up inside her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize this was a business meeting.” Andy finally looked up. If he noticed how beautiful she looked in her pink dress, it didn’t show.
“What else would it be?” he asked so smugly she wanted to swipe the silver candlesticks off the table and whack him over the head.
“Andy’s going to show us his concept for the new book,” Tony said.
“It’s all here,” Andy said, closing the portfolio. “But let’s eat first. Then we can get down to business.”
There was no doubt about it, the food was probably delicious. They started with fat cocktail shrimps sitting in parfait cups with cocktail sauce, mussels, and crab-stuffed mushrooms. Then there was a mesclun salad and a lobster bisque that normally would’ve sent Kate straight to heaven. Each course was paired with a glass of wine. For her main course, Kate ordered a steak, but only because it was the most expensive thing on the menu and she was praying Andy was picking up the bill. It was a waste, though; she could barely eat with the hole in her stomach. Apparently, he wasn’t over the fact that she’d “outed” his lies about the photos. He was obviously pissed about doing this book again, and she was going to be his scapegoat. So much for sex and romance. Moody artist was right.
The men talked freely about island gossip, politics, the food, the view, and the upcoming project while Kate concentrated on chewing, swallowing, and not crying. The wine had loosened her up, and she was afraid, given her severe disappointment and embarrassment at actually thinking Andy had asked her on a date, that she was going to dissolve into tears. Luckily, she knew how to turn into steel when she had to; she’d learned that the hard way.
“I hope we can cover this quickly,” Kate said. “I have plans this evening.” Andy looked at her, only the second time that evening that she could tell, and continued staring until she looked away.
“I think Andy just wants to discuss the concept and the shooting schedule. Then there is a contract for you to sign, and we’ll be all done,” Harris George said. Kate nodded, and despite her anger, she was looking forward to hearing the concept. She thought again of the pretty dresses worn by Michelle. Would she get to keep any of the clothing? Andy reached under the table, pulled out copies of his portfolio, and silently passed them around the table. At least this time, Kate wasn’t the only one stunned as those present thumbed through Andy’s proposal.
The locations were the same ones Andy had chosen for the first book. It was easy to recognize all five lighthouses on the island, Andy’s favorite golf course, the winery, and several of the local beaches. That wasn’t the reason everyone’s jaw was hanging open. It was his markup of the model that was captivating everyone’s attention. There were no pretty, flowing dresses. Instead, the model was wearing ripped jeans and tank tops. Her hair wasn’t soft and billowing around her face; in fact, it was downright messy. And even more outrageous, he’d drawn her scar—everything was in black and white except for it, which was painted to look like a lightning bolt. In addition, each sketch showed a strike of lightning coming from somewhere above her, as if she were about to be struck by lightning in every single picture!
Kate frantically searched her memory. When had Andy seen her scar? She thought back to the last time she’d seen him. They had all been on the yacht—she thought she’d caught him looking at her arm. Her sleeves had been wet. He’d seen through them. Heat invaded Kate’s face as the realization sank in.
Harris George was the first to speak. Kate kept her face glued to the book. She felt like a slab of stone, paralyzed, with no idea how she was going to react. Options ranged from storming out of the restaurant (just after setting it ablaze) to appearing absolutely unfazed (because somebody who would do something this cruel to her didn’t deserve to see her pain).
Or she could simply walk out without a word to any of them.
“I don’t understand,” she heard Harris say. “This is nothing like the first book.”
“Is this a joke?” Mark asked.
Kate had never been so aware of breathing in all her life. She should definitely look up. Otherwise she was going to play her hand without a conscious decision. She forced her chin upward. Her only victory was the slight jerk Andy gave when he met her eyes. She wasn’t going to have to follow through with any of her storming-out-and-setting-the-place-on-fire plans; her look had hit its target. Andy had definitely flinched.
“I know it’s not what you were expecting,” Andy said, turning to his agent. “It’s less touristy and more artistic….”
“Artistic,” the agent repeated, rolling the word around his tongue.
“Is it all going to be like this?” Tony said. “In black and white?”
“What’s the deal with the lightning bolt?” Mark asked. “Is she supposed to be like a superhero?”
“Take it or leave it, gentlemen,” Andy said. “An artist has to follow his visions. I simply can’t repeat the same book I did previously. That would make me nothing more than a wedding photographer. If you want me to do the book again, this is what it’s going to have to be. If not, we’ll all just agree the project should be shelved and move on.”
So that’s what was going on, Kate thought, her anger growing by the minute. Andy had no intention of doing this book. He never did. He was just working it so that he was no longer the bad guy. At least she wasn’t going to have to do it anymore. She wouldn’t ever have to see Andy Beck again.
“There is something intriguing about this idea,” Tony said. Kate couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Apparently, neither could Andy.
“What?” Andy said.
“Everybody likes superheroes,” Mark agreed. “Especially hot, grungy female ones.” Hot, grungy females? What did the chubby bug killer know about hot, grungy females? Then Kate realized the extent of his relationship with women probably came from comic books. No wonder. She turned to the agent, waiting for him to shoot down the project.
“The New York art circle might really get into this,” Harris said instead. “And all those high falutin’ people who come to the Vineyard love to be exposed to local ‘art.’ I would suggest adding some other colors—I mean the sunsets here are outstanding.”
“Nope,” Andy said. “Everything in black and white, except the lightning and…Kate’s scar.” The heat in Kate’s body really soared as everyone looked at her. She was very aware of the wrap covering her arms.
“She really has a scar like that?” Mark asked.
“Even though all of you gentlemen are on board,” Andy said, ignoring Mark’s comment and looking at Kate, “we still haven’t heard from the lady. I’m sure it wasn’t what she was expecting. I’m afraid she has the right to back out, and if she does we all need to respect that. And that’s the last word I ever want to hear about this book.”
Again, all faces were on Kate. She suddenly felt like a superhero, for she was hyperaware of every single sound in the room. Silver spoons clanking against china. People toasting in the next room. Laughter. Low voices. Her heart beating. She thought of her scar. Up until this point, it had been a reminder. A reminder that she lived and Jeff didn’t. It wasn’t vanity that made her cover it up; it was regret. Regret that she had to keep on living when the rest of her world had died. And now she knew Amanda had been right about something else. She would never find love again. There was only o
ne Jeff. But he would always be with her. The scar was part of him. He was her lightning bolt. If Andy Beck wanted a fight, he was going to get it.
She slipped the wrap off her shoulders and let it fall. “Are you kidding?” she said, keeping her voice as steady as possible. “I love it.” She turned to Harris and smiled. “Where do I sign?”
Andy moved to the bar long after everyone else had left the table. He couldn’t think to do anything but drink. He had so many thoughts swarming him, he didn’t know how to organize them. His first thought was that he’d never acted like such a complete jerk in all his life. He truly hadn’t planned on his concept coming across as cruel. But there was no confusing the look on Kate’s face when she saw the markups. He’d only seen that kind of pain in people’s eyes on the news, when horrible tragedies were being covered.
He was scum. Art be damned, he was total scum. And even after all that, they were all still on board for him to do the book. It was impossible. And how dare he be thinking about how stunning Kate looked tonight. What a sick man he was. He’d actually been relishing her discovery that they weren’t on a date. When had he become this man? When did his pain over Michelle’s betrayal turn him into someone capable of such cruelty? Kate wasn’t Michelle. She hadn’t done a thing other than stumble into his darkroom. She’d invaded his privacy, yes, but her intent hadn’t been to hurt him like he’d just hurt her. Maybe it wasn’t too late to change the book. He could be a wedding photographer if he had to. He could give Kate pretty dresses to wear and shoot traditional poses.
His only saving grace, at least in his own mind, was that his ideas for the shoot were intriguing. It wasn’t all about revenge or getting the others to drop the project; he really did like the idea of pulling out the stark, natural beauty of the island and throwing it against a stormy background. The island was already gorgeous. People already knew everything about Martha’s famous sunsets, and beaches, and bike paths, and golf courses. That’s why the rich and famous came here in droves. Why not explore the starkness of the cliffs, the black and white to its color, the storm to its calm?
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