“Do you think Kate was right?” Amanda asked. “Do you think I chickened out of our wedding on purpose?”
“I don’t know. Only you can answer that. But I’m glad things happened the way they did.”
“You are?” Amanda asked. “Why? Because you don’t want to marry me?”
“No,” Pete said, taking her hands. “Because if you agree to marry me again—I want to do it the right way. Without any secrets between us.”
Amanda went in for a hug and then stopped.
“What do you mean? Pete? What secrets?”
Pete gestured for Amanda to sit down. When she didn’t, he cleared some of the pots and pans out of the way, picked her up, and set her on the countertop. She crossed her arms against her chest and waited.
“Andy’s not a rich asshole,” Pete said. “He doesn’t own this cottage or the yacht. He doesn’t live on a trust fund.”
“That’s your big secret? So what?”
“Remember how when we first met, you went on and on about how you hated rich people?”
“Yes, and you told me he was filthy rich—oh, I see. You said that so I wouldn’t go out with him.”
“Yes,” Pete said.
“Wait a minute. If Andy doesn’t live in this cottage—”
“He does,” Pete said. “He’s been renting it. For a very good price, I might add.”
“And the yacht?”
“He’s just the…interim captain, I guess you might say.”
“Well, if he doesn’t own this house and the yacht, then who does?’
“You’re looking at him,” Pete said. “I’m the real rich asshole.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Trust me. Just walk and look at things. Really look. When you see something that strikes your imagination—just click.” Andy and Kate were back on Main Street, and Kate was wielding Andy’s camera. Instead of shooting pictures of her today, he wanted her to play the role of photographer. She knew he was trying to get her mind off her argument with Amanda. He’d only had to see her face for a split second this morning to call off the day’s shoot. At first Kate had been hesitant to accept his “therapy,” but soon she was completely into it.
She liked the Welcome sign on Annie’s Island Flowers. She snapped the picture. She liked the ceramic duck in the window of a boutique. A child’s shoe sat atop a mailbox. A shiny penny dropped on the ground. A starling resting on a low branch. A golden retriever outside an ice-cream shop, tied to a pole, drool dripping from its lips as it gazed longingly into the window of the shop where its thirteen-year-old master was imbibing on mint chocolate chip. Kate was disappointed she couldn’t get both the kid and the dog in one shot, but Andy’s only rule had been “nothing staged.” Before Kate knew it, two hours had flown by and they had barely walked a block. When Kate finally put the camera down, a peacefulness settled around her, and her face was relaxed and open.
“Lunch,” Andy said. “We’ll start with the shoot after that.”
“Thank you,” Kate said. “That was amazing.”
“You have an artist’s eye,” Andy said. “You’d be good at this yourself.”
“It’s the little things in life that make it miraculous, don’t you think?” Kate asked as they strolled down the street, no real destination in mind.
“Yes. It can also be the little things that make life cruel,” Andy said.
“Like an icy road at night,” Kate said.
“Yes,” Andy agreed. “Like that.” He stopped then, took both her hands and gently turned her toward him. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said. “Tell me you know that.”
“I shouldn’t have picked a fight while he was driving in bad weather,” Kate said.
“It wasn’t the fight,” Andy said. “It was the condition of the roads. You could have been silent. You could have been joking about something. It doesn’t matter—”
“I don’t know if this is going to work,” Kate said.
“What?”
“Those are the last words Jeff heard me say,” Kate said. “I said, ‘I don’t know if this is going to work.’”
“I’m sorry. But don’t you think you’ve punished yourself enough? And if our soul does go someplace after this, don’t you think he knows how much you really loved him?”
“Yes,” Kate said. “Jeff would have been the first to forgive me.” Tears filled her eyes as she said this. Andy rubbed her back gently, and gave her space to cry.
“Then let him,” he said after a minute. “Just let him.”
That afternoon Andy followed Kate’s lead, and instead of shooting at the ocean, or the golf course, or the lighthouses, he shot her in everyday places. Leaning against a pickup truck. Sitting cross-legged and barefoot on the sidewalk in front of the ice-cream shop, eating a butterscotch cone. Stopping to smell a hydrangea bush. Watching a mother as she stooped to tie her child’s shoe. Standing in front of the movie theater pulling a ten-dollar bill out of her pocket. It was the most fun she’d had modeling for his pictures, and her good mood lasted the entire day. On a break she checked her cell phone to see if Amanda had called. She didn’t even reprimand Andy when she heard the click of his camera as he watched her take in the fact that there were no messages from Amanda.
She understood Andy’s point about capturing the moment without staging it. His original photo book with Michelle had been staged. All the fancy outfits and makeup artists and posing. That was a book done by someone doing a job, going through the motions. This book was one created by an artist, driven by passion. Kate was proud to be part of it. If only the relationship were strictly professional. If only she didn’t want to touch him every second. She found herself longing for shots in which he would have to come and “arrange” her. She looked for any excuse to have his body near hers. Neither of them had mentioned the other night, ignoring both their passion and the argument that followed. They were overly polite, and shy, but the sexual tension was as palpable as the warm Vineyard air. Kate was determined to get through this without incident. After all, they were from two different worlds. Andy lived on this island. He owned a yacht. Kate loved visiting, but she wasn’t comfortable in the land of the rich; she was destined for a down-to-earth lifestyle. If she could scrape enough money together, maybe she’d travel. Do some hands-on work instead of sitting behind a desk. It wasn’t a lifestyle Mr. Moneybags would want. She’d had her rebound sex; going back for seconds could only spell disaster.
Kate tried to hide her disappointment when Andy called it a day.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“No.”
“Me neither. Well, not exactly.”
“What do you mean, not exactly?”
“I guess I’m just going to say it.”
“Just say it.”
“You know I have a room at the inn.”
“Yes.”
“Well. There’s room at the inn,” Andy said. They held eye contact for a long time.
“Lead the way,” Kate said.
Of the island’s numerous inns, the Black Sheep wasn’t fancy, but it was quaint, cozy, and private. It had four petite guest rooms, and Kate was happy to note Andy had the one on the top floor. It was early evening, and the only other inhabitant was an elderly man at the front desk. Kate and Andy hurried up the stairs as if trying to outrun any lingering doubts. When Andy tried to open the door, he fumbled and dropped the key. Kate was relieved to see he was as nervous as she was. When he finally flung it open, Kate saw that the most prominent thing in the tiny room was the big bed. It was exactly where they were headed.
This time, they took their time. They touched, explored, kissed, and laughed. Nothing felt as good to Kate as Andy’s arms around her, the scent of him on her skin, his voice reverberating in her chest. She hated that she was jumping ahead in her mind, but in the moment she could no longer imagine spending another night alone. Not that she verbalized this, of course. She wasn’t that crazy. But nothing could stop her imagination from spinning a future that
included endless nights of lovemaking like this one. As they lost themselves in each other’s body, snapshots of the island ran through Kate’s mind and transported her to those places with Andy.
The squeaky cheap bed of the inn was replaced with vivid images of the ocean, the Gay Head Cliffs, the stairs of the lighthouse. She thought of their first hurried encounter on the grass by his Jeep, the coffee cup with the sticky note just for her, even their heated argument by the side of the road. And it was all okay. She let herself go, and in that moment she completely opened up.
“I’m starving,” Andy said a few hours later. The sheets were sweaty and tangled, running through and underneath their entwined limbs. Kate giggled. Andy pinched her.
“I’m talking about food this time,” he said, kissing her on the nose.
“Me, too,” Kate said. “But I never want to leave this bed.”
“Think we can get Ed to deliver?”
“Who’s Ed?”
“The old guy at the front desk. He has a bike with a basket. I’ve seen it.”
Kate laughed.
“You have a gorgeous laugh,” Andy said. “Among other things,” he added, running his hand down the length of her body and kissing her softly.
“If you don’t stop that,” Kate said, leaning in to his kiss, “I’m going to lose my appetite.”
The rest of the month flew by, and it wasn’t long before Kate was staying with Andy at the inn. Amanda had yet to make any effort to contact her, and Kate didn’t want to blow her money from the shoot on a room of her own. Besides, Andy and Kate were dying to spend every second together, counting the minutes until the shoot was over and they could be wrapped in each other’s skin. And gradually, they took their relationship out of the bedroom. They took long walks on the beach, saw movies, tried all the seafood joints on the island, and went sailing with Tony. Andy had a surprise for Tony, too. Even though the official book wouldn’t be out for at least a year, Andy announced he wanted to throw a party at the bookstore and preview his photographs to the public.
It would be a wrap-up celebration, an early promotional opportunity, and Andy would pay for the entire thing. It was the least he could do. Tony was thrilled and readily agreed. Kate was nervous at the thought of a roomful of people looking at images of her, but she kept it to herself. Being exposed, being out there, was something she might never be comfortable with, but this time she knew she could face it. This was Andy’s project, and she wasn’t going to do anything to ruin it. She couldn’t help but feel sad that Jeff wouldn’t be there to see the pictures. She knew two things. He would be proud of her, and he would forgive her. She only wished she could say the same thing for Amanda.
It was this thought that brought her back to Andy’s honeymoon house. She noticed the porch was put back together. The swing was hanging and slightly swaying in the breeze. The flowerpots lined the steps. The heart-shaped lights were strung. Two pairs of white flip-flops, HIS and HERS, sat next to the bride-and-groom welcome mat. Kate slipped the invite under the door and walked away.
Chapter Sixteen
Grapevine Books looked fabulous. Kate loved books; just being surrounded by them made her feel at home. Andy had chosen ten photos to enlarge and display. They were hung on a black-felt backdrop, five on each side of the store. They were covered at the moment; the “reveal” would happen as soon as Tony gave the word. Kate was nervous, but not for the obvious reasons. She was praying Amanda would walk through the door. Since she would be leaving the Vineyard in a few days, it was their last chance to kiss and make up. She knew if she left the island without the two of them straightening things out, they would probably never speak again. The things Amanda had said to her had deeply wounded Kate, but she understood where Amanda had been coming from. Grief often welled up and spilled on anyone unfortunate enough to be in its path. She and Amanda had been friends long enough to weather this—as long as they had the chance. She missed Amanda, too, even with her constant complaining, and wondered how Amanda was getting along with Pete. If nothing else, their fight had probably brought Amanda and Pete closer together. Kate knew Amanda; she’d have a hard time alienating the two most important people in her life at the same time. Since Kate was “out,” Pete was probably still “in.”
Maybe she should just let them be, sacrifice their friendship so Amanda could stay happy with Pete. But that wasn’t a long-term solution—Amanda was still Amanda, and until she learned to ease up on her expectations of others, she would never be happy. Kate tried to put Amanda out of her mind as she eyed the tables of appetizers and headed to the open bar set up at the check-out counter. She was going to have a celebratory drink and just relax. She wasn’t surprised to see so many people—on such a small island, an event like this brought the vacationers out in droves.
She found Andy right away, surrounded by people, looking sexy all in black. He caught her staring at him, and the smile he gave her was a better buzz than all the champagne in the room. Tony was dressed in a spiffy tan suit with a red shirt, working the crowd like a Carnival cruise director. Kate was happy Tony was going to have his book after all, and thrilled she was a part of it. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, with the exception of Mark.
He was leaning against the counter, lording over a plate of cheese, looking disgusted. He wasn’t going to find a good wife among these drinkers and artists tonight. He caught Kate’s eye and waved her over. Kate reluctantly made her way toward him, already coming up with exit lines and assuring herself she wouldn’t talk to him any longer than ten minutes.
“Hello, Mark,” she said.
“Kate.” The two stood like unwilling participants in a junior high dance. Kate was just about to try out one of her exit lines when he spoke.
“You know why he did this, don’t you?” Mark said, gesturing to the photographs. For a moment Kate wasn’t sure what Mark was talking about, and frankly, she didn’t care.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she said, starting to walk away.
“Michelle was a real model,” Mark said.
Kate stopped.
“Yes,” she said. “I know that.”
“So why do you think he picked you for round two?”
“Why do you care?” Kate asked.
Mark shrugged. “I don’t really. But you should.”
“I thought this is what you wanted, Mark,” Kate said. “Look how happy your father is.” The two stopped to look at Tony, who had a scotch in one hand and an appetizer in the other. He was surrounded by the little old ladies from the book club, and his head was thrown back in laughter.
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll find a way to screw it up,” Mark said, pointing at Andy. At that moment, Andy looked up. His expression clearly showed his dislike of Mark.
“Did you see that?” Mark asked. “Did you see the look on his face? He’s worried I’m going to tell.”
“Tell what?” Kate asked. When she looked over again, Andy was making his way toward them.
“Here he comes,” Mark said. “Does he have bionic hearing or is he just paranoid?”
“Mark,” Kate said. “What are you talking about?”
“Hello, Mark,” Andy said, putting his hand around Kate’s waist and slightly tugging her away. “You don’t mind if I steal her for a second, do you?”
Mark looked at Kate and smiled. It was a smug, self-serving smile. It was the smile of someone who knew something you wish you did.
“Just a minute,” Kate said. “Mark was about to explain himself.”
Mark looked at Andy and the smile grew.
“Kate,” Andy said. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet. Perhaps this can wait—”
“Oh, you’d like it to wait, wouldn’t you, Andy? You’d like it to wait forever.” Mark’s voice was growing in volume, enough to distract a portion of the evening’s lighthearted chatter and laughter. People were starting to stare and gather, like gawkers around a bar fight. Tony descended on them and grabbed Mark by the arm.
“We’r
e going to unveil the art,” he said. “Let’s not occupy them any longer.”
“I want to hear what he has to say,” Kate said.
“Kate,” Andy said.
“He’s trying to ruin your evening,” Kate said. “Well, I’m going to show him he can’t.”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Tony interrupted, “if my assistants are ready, I’d like them to stand by their designated poster.” Local kids from the island, also dressed in black, hurried to each of the photograph displays, waiting for the go-ahead to whip off the cover and reveal the picture. It was a bit showy, but it had been Tony’s idea, and Kate knew Andy was going along with it to make amends with Tony.
“Ever play Texas hold ’em, Kate?” Mark asked.
“Mark,” Andy said. “That’s enough.”
“The card game?” Kate asked. “What about it?”
“It’s a betting game,” Mark said. “Did you know that?”
“Kate,” Andy said.
“Just spit it out, Mark!” Kate said.
“There was a bet about who could get you to take those long-sleeved shirts off, and Andy Beck here was the highest bidder!”
“You’re lying,” Kate said.
“Why else do you think he asked you to do the book, Kate?”
“Shut up, Mark!” Andy said.
“Because of all your modeling experience?” Mark continued. Kate looked at Andy. She didn’t know what kind of a player he was, but he wasn’t wearing his poker face today. He looked like a defendant who had just been proved guilty.
“Kate. It’s not what you think,” Andy said.
“Did you or did you not participate in a bet about my scar?” Kate asked.
“Technically,” Andy said. “I did. But—” Kate held up her hand, she’d heard enough.
She felt as if she’d been physically struck. She hadn’t fully realized the weight she’d been carrying around the past five years until it was back, squarely on her shoulders, heavier than she ever remembered. She felt numb, and wondered how on earth she was going to find a place to put her glass of champagne down and calmly walk out of the room. Before he could say or do anything, Tony grabbed Andy and dragged him to the front of the room. Kate slowly walked toward the exit.
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