by Maggie Marr
I cleared my throat. Now wasn’t the time to explain to Elizabeth Montgomery all the personal reasons I wasn’t the ideal person to collect Rhiannon Bliss and drive her to Montecito.
“I hope you don’t mind that I took such a liberty. I know that you and Gayle and Rhiannon are close, and your mothers were best friends. I assumed that you’d be okay with bringing Rhiannon with you.”
“Of course, Elizabeth,” I said. “Rhiannon and I have known each other since we were children. I can bring her with me to Montecito. No problem.”
“Excellent, then we’ll see you tomorrow around noon.”
I would get my shot to explain to Elizabeth why Kiley Kepner made good financial sense for The Lady’s Regret, but I’d have to be with Rhiannon Bliss when I made my case.
I’d avoided Rhiannon since I’d left Amanda’s house a couple of days ago. I couldn’t remain unattached if I continued spending time with Rhiannon. I looked out at the ocean. There were five miles between me and the rest of my day. The exercise would clear my mind. Spending time in Montecito with Rhiannon and Elizabeth was just a part of my job, and what I had to do to get my film made. While I wasn’t so stupid as to deny my feelings for Rhiannon, I could be professional enough to put them on hold. Besides, Elizabeth’s house was huge. We wouldn’t be sharing a room. If spending time in Montecito with Elizabeth and Rhiannon would convince Elizabeth to put The Lady’s Regret into pre-production, then I could most definitely stay at Elizabeth’s and convince myself not to sleep with Rhiannon while I was there.
Rhiannon
I disconnected the call and turned back to my canvas. I set my brush down. It would be so easy to become involved with Gerard again. He was handsome and smart and literate and I was certain he would be a remarkable lover. But I couldn’t. Why not? Because each time I dated a man and grew close to moments of intimacy, when the moment arrived all I saw was Sterling. I would see Sterling’s face and my desire for him would consume me as I lay in the arms of another man. I closed my eyes. I wouldn’t do that to another man. Heat rose inside my chest. I was frustrated over my inability to push Sterling aside and move on. Why did I want a man who did not want to be with me?
My phone rang again. I glanced at the number. I pulled in a long cleansing breath. Frustration was ugly and I detested being ugly.
“Sterling,” I said. I fought to temper my tone.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight,” he said.
“What? What for?”
“Aren’t you going to Montecito tomorrow?”
I sat down. “What does me going to see Elizabeth Montgomery have to do with you?”
“It would seem we both need something from Elizabeth. For you I am guessing it’s the introduction to a world-renowned patron of the arts, for me it’s about The Lady’s Regret.”
I leaned back on my stool. Now was as good a time as any to tell Sterling about my call with Papa. “I spoke with Papa, he will not extend the option.”
“Shit,” Sterling said. His voice was freighted with disappointment and I knew he did not want to continue the conversation.
“Eight is fine,” I said. His voice had diffused my frustration and I suddenly wanted to keep him on the line. I wanted to hear a smile in his voice. A smile directed at me. I wanted him to flirt and tell me how desperate he was to see me, as Gerard had done. But instead all I got was a brief good-bye.
“Great. See you then.”
The line went dead. Why was I torturing myself so? A brilliant photojournalist, one of the best in the world, wanted me in Paris and had been calling me for over a year. I needed to kill this love I’d carried in my heart since I was fifteen. I needed to get on with my life.
Chapter 16
Sterling
The next morning, on the drive up to pick up Rhiannon, I had a few moments to think about her—think about us. Rhiannon wanted us to be connected, together. It had been me who had set parameters on our relationship—if you could even call it a relationship—parameters that I knew she would be unwilling to agree to. Maybe Amanda was right—wasn't my little sister always right?—I was intentionally distancing myself from Rhiannon.
I pulled into Gayle’s driveway and drove up the hill to a stop in front of the house. Her battered pickup truck sat out front. I opened the car door and took a moment to admire the view before walking up to the front door. I knocked.
When had I begun knocking on Gayle’s front door? When Amanda and I were kids we used to run in and out of this door as though this house were ours, too. Even after Rhiannon and Maeve and Tom left, Amanda and I still treated the Bliss home like our own.
The door flew open in front of me.
“Sterling!” Maeve threw her arms around me. “Come in.” She pulled me into the house and yanked me toward the kitchen. The warm scent of coffee and fresh-baked bread tickled my nose. Gayle baked bread nearly every single day. The smell meant home to me. I guessed it always would.
“Rhiannon, Sterling is here,” Maeve yelled. She sounded like the little sister I remembered when she used to call for Rhiannon.
“Sit down. Still take it black?”
I nodded. Maeve poured two cups of coffee and doctored her with cream and sugar.
“And you still like yours sweet,” I said. She handed me my coffee and took a long sip of hers.
Her eyes twinkled. She was a devil of a girl. Exactly what a younger sister should be, just like Amanda, always poking her nose into my business and letting on like she knew more than she did.
“Oh, don’t go and give me that stoic Legend face.” She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “You can’t fool me. I’ve known you too long for that.”
I smiled. She was like Rhiannon that way. She did know me too well for me to pretend as if something wasn’t bothering me.
“You still in love with Rhiannon then?”
My face froze at hearing her question. I didn’t react.
A smile slid onto her face. “Well, that answer that then,” Maeve said.
“That answers what?”
The voice put me on alert. My whole body responded to her. Rhiannon turned the corner, her white-blonde hair still lying wet on her shoulders. She wore a loose tank top and a loose skirt of white cotton with blue embroidery. Her beauty caused my breath to catch. Her nipples pebbled under her shirt and I tore my gaze from her breasts.
“Nothing, you nosy girl,” Maeve said and bounced up from her chair. “Just catching up with Sterling. You know, you’ve had tons of time to get reacquainted, but I’ve only seen him once at Amanda’s house.”
Rhiannon glanced from Maeve to me. She knew her little sister too well to accept Maeve’s explanation. Maeve went to the counter and cut a thick slice of fresh bread, still warm from the oven. She grabbed the honey and slathered it over the top. She smiled as she took a giant bite. The honey dripped down her chin. She swiped at the sticky mess on her chin and I was thrust into a memory of mornings when I was a boy and she did the exact same thing. The only difference was that then Amanda and I were fighting for the bread, as well.
“Want some?” Maeve asked. She’d already cut another slice and covered it with honey. She held it out and I had no choice but to take it from her.
“Damn, Mom makes the best bread,” Maeve said. “I think I miss this more than anything.”
There were other good things to miss, as well: being up here at Gayle’s ranch early in the morning with the Bliss girls beside me drinking fresh coffee, eating fresh bread with honey, and being teased by Maeve. I glanced at Rhiannon. Surprise and confusion had slipped from her eyes and she looked at us as though she, too, had memories like mine. Memories of a family cobbled together who all desperately loved each other.
I chewed my bread with honey and let the sweetness fill my mouth. I held out a half slice toward Rhiannon. She looked at me and finally the seriousness gave way to a smile as she took the bread from me. She took a giant bite and tilted her head up and smiled as though she’d just tasted sunshine.
r /> Her smile was sunshine. She was sunshine and freshness and seriousness and everything that was right in this world. My heart felt as if it would burst from my chest. I sat and watched her eat bread with honey, intense emotions running rampant. I didn’t have a choice about whether or not I loved Rhiannon. My feelings for her were simply there. They hadn’t gone away and they never would. I could pretend to control them, pretend that I could set boundaries and limits, but this girl, this woman, had captured my heart years before and nothing, not time or distance, had dimmed the feelings I had for her.
Yet, as much as I realized that yes, I loved Rhiannon Bliss, there was a part of me that couldn’t open to her, a part of me that was punishing her for abandoning me. While I knew perfectly what I was doing, I couldn’t seem to make myself stop, to make myself smile and slip into the easiness of being with her and letting myself love her again. Could I ever do that again? Let Rhiannon have my heart?
When she met my gaze, her smile slipped away and she reached for a napkin and wiped her face and her hands.
“We’d better go,” I said.
“Yes,” she said. “We’d better.”
Chapter 17
Rhiannon
Neither of us attempted conversation on the way to Montecito. Sterling rolled calls all the way there. He worked the phone with regards to crewing The Lady’s Regret—director of photography, editor, line producer, script supervisor, set decorator. He made call after call after call. I sat in the car and watched the California coastline roll by. The light changed with each curve, the color of the ocean, the clouds, and the cliffs. Even in the passenger seat heading north I had a spectacular view, and while I’d traveled PCH when I was young it had been years since I’d been up this way.
We pulled into Elizabeth Montgomery’s driveway two hours later. I was nervous. I’d never met Elizabeth. I knew that she’d known my mother, that she and Joanne and Mama had been friends. I knew they’d met in an acting class in Culver City. The three women had roomed together before they met their spouses. Elizabeth snagged Hal Montgomery, the attorney and oil magnate, when her career was starting to take off. They’d married and had had seven kids. Then, only a few years ago, Hal died from a massive coronary and left Elizabeth one of the wealthiest women in America. My mom never said much about Elizabeth, why I wasn’t sure. They’d been friends, but I assumed they had drifted apart.
The Montgomery home sat on a cliff and virtually hung over the water. It was a giant home of glass and wood that looked as though it were carved from the surrounding landscape.
“Ready for this?” Sterling asked as we approached the door.
“I guess,” I said.
These couple of days were as important to Sterling and his career as they were to mine. Elizabeth was a huge patron of the arts and a giant art collector. If she decided that a young artist was important, then that young artist suddenly became important. She was a tastemaker and a trendsetter in the art world. And she seemed to like me, or she liked my art. She’d already acquired five of my pieces, and that was a huge percentage of my work. I’d only done two collections, one while still a student and the one that showed at Amanda’s gallery. Elizabeth had purchased a great deal of art from Amanda’s gallery even though she’d not attended the opening.
The door was opened and a young man in a crisp blue shirt and starched khaki pants greeted us and walked us out to the back terrace. He assured us our bags would be taken care of. Mom’s place had a great view; Elizabeth’s place had a view that was simply stunning. The waves crashed below and you could see for forever. The hills that sloped down to the water were lush and verdant with pine trees. The landscape also included interesting outcroppings of rock and the ubiquitous sand.
“Amazing,” I said, to no one in particular. “The light is remarkable.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
I turned toward the voice. A regal-looking woman with blunt-cut grey hair and high cheekbones stood behind us. Her bright blue eyes were sharp and focused, but held a hint of mirth. Her skirt was trim and snug around her hips. Her shirt was a brilliant emerald green silk that caused her blue eyes to look even brighter. I knew this had to be Elizabeth Montgomery, and while she had seven children, and was nearly sixty, her figure was beyond trim.
“Rhiannon, you look so much like your mother,” she said. She walked across the balcony to me and clasped my hands in hers. She stared into my eyes and smiled. I got the funniest feeling that she knew me, really knew me, even though we’d never met before. She kissed each of my cheeks. She turned to Sterling, said hello, and gave him the same greeting.
“How is Gayle?” she asked me. I followed Elizabeth to a seating area with a couch and two chairs around a low table with coffee, Pellegrino, and tea laid out and waiting for us. “I think it’s been seven years since I’ve seen her.” Elizabeth settled onto a chair and leaned back. “I was so sorry to hear about the accident with her ankle.”
“Mama is well,” I said. “My sister just returned home, too. It’s been a long while since we’ve both been back at the same time. While Mama doesn’t like hobbling about, I think she dearly loves having us both home.”
“I’m certain of that,” Elizabeth said. A giant smile lit up her face. “If I thought breaking an ankle would get all seven of my children here at once, I’d trip down the stairs today.” Elizabeth laughed. “There is no time that I am happier than when all the children are home. The house is full and loud and just so alive!” She leaned forward and poured herself a cup of tea. “If they’d all get married and start making grandbabies for me, I’d be even happier.”
“Really? Seven children and not one is married?”
“Not. One,” Elizabeth said. “You’d think perhaps their father and I set a poor example for a happy marriage, but I know it’s not true. We were happy. Oh my lord, there wasn’t a man alive who could make me laugh like Hal Montgomery! That man, oh, that man!” Elizabeth said. Her eyes twinkled and she shook her head. “True love is the greatest gift you can be given. It is so amazing when that kind of love enters your life.” Her gaze traveled from me to Sterling and back to me.
My heart beat faster in my chest and my palms grew moist. Was she talking about her life? Was she aware of the past that Sterling and I shared? How could she know? I wasn’t even certain about what was happening between Sterling and me, so there was no way Elizabeth Montgomery could.
“I ramble around in this big empty house and look forward to when the children come home,” Elizabeth sighed.
Sterling was sitting beside me and he smiled. “Elizabeth, I happen to know from Cami that you are an exceptionally busy woman.”
Elizabeth winked at him. “You’re right. I am. But I really don’t want the children to know that. I want them to believe that they must come and see me. If they knew how full my social calendar is I’d never get them up here. I’m a bit surprised that Cami knows as much as she does.” Elizabeth turned her blue-eyed gaze to me. “Rhiannon, how long will you be in L.A.? I hear rumors that your next series is set in Venice.”
I slid my gaze toward Sterling.
“Not me. I didn’t breathe a word,” he said and held up his hands.
“Oh, no, darling, my spies abound, but Sterling isn’t one of them.”
I had a moment’s apprehension at the idea that Elizabeth Montgomery had spies who knew about my work. “I’m not certain,” I said. “I know that I’ll stay for as long as Mama needs me, which the doctors think may be another two weeks. After that, I’ll have to see.”
“No desire to put down roots? To perhaps stay where you were raised?”
I shifted in my chair. Elizabeth’s questions hit too close to everything that made me uncomfortable.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “I’d forgotten how much I love California and the light and the beauty. There is so much here for me to paint and so many people that I love. I’ve actually been considering staying on. Perhaps making California my home base.”
�
��You have?” Sterling’s voice contained surprise. His gaze locked with mine. The entire world dropped away. All that remained was the sunlight and Sterling in front of me. The heat between us crackled. I hadn’t shared anything with Sterling—not what I was considering or how I knew I wanted to be with him. I wanted to be the one to give him what he needed and I knew, beyond a doubt, that Sterling had been and always would be meant for me.
“I have,” I said.
He drew in a deep breath. The want on his face, the hunger was evident. Elizabeth cleared her throat and snapped us both back to the realization that we weren’t alone. We were, in fact, sitting on her back patio, speaking with the woman who could help both our careers.
“I’ve put you both in the yellow guest house. I hope you don’t mind sharing. I guessed that since you two have been friends since childhood it would be okay. Jonathan has taken your bags. Why doesn’t he show you to your rooms and you can take some time to”—her gaze swept from me to Sterling and back—“to freshen up. We’ll have dinner at seven. Let’s reconvene then.”
Jonathan, again, appeared beside us. He inclined his head a tiny bit. We all stood and Elizabeth gave us each a kiss and walked back into the house.
“This way please, Miss Bliss, Mr. Legend.”
Sterling grasped my hand as we followed Jonathan down the stone steps and toward the ocean.
The beach house sat at the end of a winding path. A glen of trees opened onto a tiny yellow house with white trim. A rock walkway lined with flowers led up to a porch and a red front door. The porch wrapped around the entire house with stairs that led down the back to the beach.
“This is like something from a storybook,” I said.
We entered and the high ceilings and blonde wood floors made the tiny house feel spacious. There was a fireplace on the far side of the family room, which was open to the kitchen.