Invisible Anna

by Coralie Moss

  Anna was convinced what Liam mourned was the kind of love he could—and, likely would—find again, with the right woman. And then all his questions about kids would be answered. Life often revealed a well-laid path when the stepping stones were in the right places. Like when Gary Granger walked into her life, with his generous hugs and his patient heart. Her ovaries knew he was The One. Her heart did too.

  Daniel continued to nap, and she needed to move. She inched one leg from under the sheet, hooked it over the edge of the mattress, and pulled herself away from her sleeping companion. She tiptoed to the bathroom and showered the remaining lotion and body fluids off her lower back, thighs, and butt. On her way to bed, she fished a slip from one of the drawers, and slipped it over her head. She wanted to join Daniel’s nap.

  His chest rose and fell. One hand, as yet unclaimed by a wedding band, rested on the sheet, right over his heart. Anna’s own heart connected with his in that moment, and he would never know. For all that her former lover had accomplished in his life, it saddened her he was still broken up about something out of his control, from so very long ago. Maybe she could help him figure this out. She nestled against him and slipped into a light sleep.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Daniel lay on his front, his face pressed into the cradle at the head of the massage table. Napping after orgasming had made them a few minutes late for the massages Anna booked.

  “I’m going to be a boneless blob when he’s finished,” he said. “I’ll never make it to my plane.”

  “Let yourself go,” Anna recommended from her sprawled-out position on the table next to his, her voice similarly muffled. “We have another full day before we have to think about airplanes. We can order room service and have Jorge feed us.”

  His chuckle switched into a loud groan. “Uff. Right there.”

  “I’d like to go to dinner after this.”

  He seconded her wish. “Me, too. We seemed to have missed lunch. Think you can carry me?”

  “No.” A throaty laugh emanated from her body. “Isn’t that why the resort has Jorges and luggage carts?”

  “Good thinking.”

  Their massages ended late in the afternoon, after which they were bundled into a fresh set of fluffy, white robes and encouraged to sit poolside and sip watermelon juice until they had their legs back under them.

  Daniel leaned into the cushions supporting his back and lifted his face to the late-afternoon sun. “New York feels very far away, and I’m wondering why it’s taken me so long to indulge in a trip like this.”

  “I was under the impression you traveled a lot.”

  “I do, for work,” he said. “Vacation isn’t a word in my vocabulary. I get a day or two at the most, once in a while when I remember to book it.” He re-crossed his legs and adjusted his bathrobe. “But when you’re designing for people, they begin to think they own you, and I’m enough of a perfectionist that every contract seems to come with a leash upon signing.”

  “I’m sure it’s a very elegant leash.” Anna patted his hand, sly humor in her voice. She knew he didn’t like to be teased, but with their shared history, a gentle ribbing now and then should be acceptable. When she lifted her hand and probed at the corner of his mouth, coaxing it upward with a soft fingertip, he had no choice but to grin.

  “Comes with a collar,” he elaborated, getting into the spirit of the moment, “and a set of tags engraved with my phone number.”

  He was rewarded with another laugh.

  “Let’s get dressed and eat,” she suggested. “I’m beyond starving, and I imagine they frown on patrons who wear robes into the dining room.”

  Daniel opened his eyes, stretched his arms wide, and yawned. “Race you.”

  “Ugh, not again.” Anna was reluctant to move. Daniel loosened the knot at her waist, tugging until her breasts were about to see full light.

  “Starting now!” He strode toward the stairwell. “I’ll meet you at your room. Ten minutes.”

  “No fair.” she yelled to his departing back. She re-looped the belt of her robe, and Daniel launched himself up the stairs. The man wasn’t getting enough time off if this was how he acted after twenty-four hours off leash, away from New York, his clients, and his phone.

  Anna fumbled for the slippers provided by the spa and shuffled to the elevator, a smile dancing at the corners of her mouth. She liked this version of Daniel Strauss post-swim and sexy times and a massage. What would it take to see more of his playful side?

  She answered his knock at her door in her robe, still undecided about what to wear.

  Daniel was dressed in yet another pair of linen trousers, this time in a dark navy color. He’d paired them with an open-collared white shirt and a deceptively simple cardigan, the kind that looked hand-knitted and cost a small fortune. It seemed his skin, now a delicious shade of brown, had soaked up the perfect amount of sun and was radiating its own special glow.

  “Looks like I’m winning all the races today,” he said, smiling as he cupped her jaw and brushed a kiss across her lips before stepping into the room. “You need help getting dressed?”

  “Give me another five minutes, and I’ll be ready.”

  He strode to her balcony, leaned an elbow on the rail, and half turned to face into the room. Anna could see him from her stance in front of her closet, where her hands hovered between the velvet dress or choosing something more casual. She decided to leave the special dress for their last night together and opted for the pair of Gaia-inspired, silk-knit palazzo pants and a lightweight cashmere sweater with a deep V neckline. Her new bracelet graced one wrist, and she was about to thread silver hoops through her earlobes when Daniel stepped off the balcony and into the room.

  “I have another gift for you.” He opened the drawstring on a small jewelry pouch and dropped its contents into her open palm. The earrings she’d tried on in the gift shop, tiny shards of soft-edged sea glass strung with silver beads and tiny pearls, dangled from her fingers. Perfect. She lifted her heels and kissed the side of his jaw.

  “Thank you.” She turned her head side to side. She could get used to being on the receiving end of Daniel’s Gift-A-Day program. “They’re lovely.”

  Daniel tented his fingers at her lower back while she grabbed a pashmina wrap and her key card. He kept the physical connection down the stairwell, across a candlelit seawall, and up a set of stairs carved from local rock.

  “Would you like an aperitif?” he asked once they were seated.

  “I wouldn’t mind if you ordered a bottle wine. I’d like to try one of the reds tonight.”

  Daniel waved over the same sommelier who assisted them the night before.

  “Did you have a chance to look at the menu?”

  Anna nodded. “The beef tenderloin sounds divine.”

  She placed the folded menu beside her plate. Her napkin fell to the floor, and when she reached to retrieve it, a slim pair of ankles on very high heels sauntered by the table. Daniel noticed and kept noticing longer than was polite. Anna opened her menu again and concentrated on rereading the hand-printed offerings.

  She’d last about ten seconds on those heels. And it would take a lot of practice for her to be able to affect the casual elegance of the woman who continued to hold all the chains to Daniel’s attention. She and Anna shared the same hair color, but the resemblance stopped there.

  Mystery woman’s perfectly straight hair swept the bony edges of her clavicles. Her body was sculpted of hard angles—cheekbones, wrist bones, hipbones… Was that her pubic bone pushing at the front of her spotless white dress?

  It took the arrival of the wine steward and the bottle he’d suggested before Daniel pulled his attention off Ms. Bony Ass and hauled it back to their table. He approved the wine and held his glass up to Anna once the steward finished pouring.

  “To you.”

  Anna swallowed, curled the corners of her lips into a smile, and kept the rest of her face unreadable while she wrestled with an explosion of jealo
usy. She downed half her wine in one long sip and left the glass hovering above the table until Daniel obliged and gave it a refill.

  “Thirsty?” His eyebrows quirked as she drank and careened into a concerned look when she gestured for a second refill.

  “Very,” she snapped. “Feel like sharing a couple of appetizers?”

  She lowered her glass to the table and her gaze to the menu. The wine was doing exactly what she hoped it would, ease the tightness in her throat and upper chest. Without the help of the alcohol, another choice was fake a headache and slink back to her room.

  Her third and least favorite option was to confront Daniel on his behavior right there at the table and risk making a scene. Chalk it up to a long pair of legs to unmask another part of her former flame that hadn’t changed.

  “Annalissa.” Daniel tapped her wine glass with his. “Earth to Annalissa. Where’d you go?”

  Relax your jaw. Breathe in through your nose, exhale through your mouth.

  “I don’t like it when my dinner date stares at other women.” There. She said it. The tide didn’t rise; the floor didn’t crack.

  He held her gaze. One fingertip tapped at the base of his wineglass. A waiter approached their table and veered away.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “I am, too, Daniel. I’m sorry I’m too old to even consider procreating with you, and I’m sorry I’m not enough for you just as I am.” Anna drained her glass and reached across the table.

  He guessed her intentions and lowered the bottle to the floor beside him.

  “That one, however,” she gestured over her shoulder into the candlelit night, “might be willing to provide a womb, although I do imagine you’ll have to provide a tummy tuck after her scheduled C-section.”

  Touché, and a solid hit for Anna Granger.

  Daniel receded into the rustic leather chair, rested his chin on his knuckles, and stared out to sea. Nausea rose in Anna’s belly and collided with a rogue wave of remorse. She pressed her lips together and signaled to their waiter.

  “I’d like to order. I’m done being upset, and I’m sorry I lashed out.” Her jaw was so tight that it was hard to speak.

  “Your anger has had thirty years to fester.” His voice was controlled and quiet. He rotated to face her, deflated, then placed his elbows on either side of his empty plate, rested his forehead against steepled fingertips, and spoke. “She had an abortion. The other woman I was seeing when you and I were together became pregnant the first year of grad school. She knew she wanted to complete her degree, and she didn’t tell me what she did until after it was done.”

  Anna set aside her menu. “Trish—that girlfriend?”

  Daniel nodded, still looking at the tabletop. “I was going to tell you she had a miscarriage, but that’s not the truth.”

  “Daniel, do you want to eat here, or would you like to come to my room and we’ll order room service?”

  “Order here,” he said, pressing his thumbs into the corners of his eyes, “and have them deliver it. I’d rather not be around other people right now.”

  Anna watched him struggle to maintain composure. She handed him her room card and took over. “Tell me what you want. I’ll meet you upstairs.”

  Her heels hit the stone flooring, the staccato sound accompanying every step on her way back to her room. The door was ajar, and someone had lit the fire pit on her balcony. Soft light glowed from recessed sconces, and the room smelled of the lotion Daniel had rubbed over her body. She stepped into the foyer area and paused.

  Daniel stood in front of the drink cart, looking dazed as he read the label on the bottle of mescal.

  “Let me make us something to drink,” she offered. “Jorge showed me how to make the limeade.”

  He didn’t move.

  “Daniel?” She kept her voice kind and low. Whatever anger had fueled her words at the restaurant had burned itself out on her way to the room.

  “Can you leave the door open and sit with me?” He gestured to the balcony. Anna slipped her arms around his waist from behind and rested the side of her head on his back. She squeezed and let go, guiding him to the couch in front of the fire pit. A blanket was there to be draped over his shoulders.

  She poured him a glass of mescal and settled nearby, her knees bent, legs on the couch, a concerned look fixed to her face. “Talk to me.”

  He circled one hand around the blown glass tumbler and swirled the contents. The ice cubes were melting, leaving beads of condensation on the outside of the glass. “Being here, with you, has pushed me into a painful realization.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Please, Daniel, talk. For your sake, not mine.

  “Not really.” He took a deep breath. The couch cushions lifted when Anna stood up and walked away.

  Jorge returned in her place, rolling a cart in front of him. “Wine, sir?”

  Daniel nodded. The restaurant had sent another bottle of the red he’d ordered earlier. Jorge did the uncorking, a flourish in every movement of his presentation, and poured a splash into Daniel’s glass for his approval. While he poured, Anna uncovered their plates and placed them on the low table in front of their chairs. She needed to get some food in her soon. The table, the fire, and their dinners cordoned off the space between them.

  “I’d like to talk.” She leaned forward to slice her tenderloin into bite-sized pieces before bringing the plate to her lap, setting her wine glass on the tiled edge of the fire pit, and spearing a mouthful.

  He watched her chew before taking a few bites from the thick slab of grilled tuna. He finished his first glass of wine as he ate, dipping more chunks of the meaty fish into its accompanying side dishes. “After I eat.”

  Anna sighed loudly, for both their benefits. “I love this place, Danny, but you’re making it hard to love being here with you.”

  He swallowed and nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  Her words kept coming. “You seem incapable, or unwilling, to engage with me to any depth. And I need more. You’re in obvious pain about something that happened decades ago, and you won’t let me help.” She put her plate on the table and nestled into the cushion at her back, once again tucking her feet onto the couch. “I’m not interested in pretending with you, and I’m not willing to exchange sex for expensive wine and these…these incredible accommodations.” She waved her fork in the air, re-centered her attention on her dinner and stabbed at another piece of meat. She stared at him while she chewed. “I feel like I should send a check to your office when I get home.”

  “I won’t let you do that. This trip was my idea, my gift.” He took another sip of wine and grimaced. The act of swallowing looked painful. He rubbed at his chest. “I started looking for you, Annalissa, because I was facing turning fifty. I was alone, never married, plenty of friends, but very little family. I have a sister, a brother-in-law, and a nephew—and that’s it.”

  Anna chewed quietly. The two glasses of wine she guzzled at the restaurant were going to her head. If he was finally ready to open up, she needed as many wits about her as she could muster.

  Daniel shook his head, out of words. “Trish had an abortion without telling me beforehand. She only let me know after it was over. Her not letting me be part of the process was devastating. And I don’t think I’ve forgiven her. Or myself.”

  She wanted to rush in, offer comfort, but he had more to say, and his body language warned her clearly to stay away.

  “She had every right to make that choice, but it killed me that she didn’t allow me to be a part of it, to go with her, to…to mourn with her, or celebrate, if that’s what she wanted. She cut me off, and I…” He shook his head, out of words. “And that one thing has clouded my relationships with women my entire adult life.”

  “I’m sorry, Danny. I really am.”

  “I am, too,” he admitted, pushing his plate away and resting his elbows on his knees. “Looking for you became a part-time mission. I know it’s completely unfair to you,
but I think I wanted you to be who you used to be.”

  “Which I am not.”

  “And neither am I. I want a kid, Annalissa,” he admitted, his words directed more to himself than to her. “Maybe more than one. Being here, with you, has helped me realize that truth.”

  “I can’t help you with that desire.”

  The hope she’d brought with her crumbled in on itself. And when the rumbling sound that accompanied her pulse quieted, she was fine. Fine enough to offer comfort to someone who was hurting. She sat beside him, curved her hands over his, and interlaced all their fingers. He leaned his head close, and she rested her cheek on his shoulder, letting the sound of the waves and the warmth of the fire ease the moment.

  “I know,” he said, breaking the prolonged silence. “I know.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Daniel left soon after his confession, his dinner unfinished. In the morning, Anna found a note on the floor near her door, letting her know the stay was paid for and he was on his way home to New York. She was welcome to contact him, the note continued, if she felt the need, but for the time being, he preferred to keep distance and silence between them.

  Anna digested his parting words on her balcony over a pot of freshly brewed coffee delivered to her room by the ever-present, omniscient Jorge. He’d added a bowl of sliced tropical fruits, a croissant, and a spray of orchids to the tray.

  Sun on her legs, warm air lifting the ends of her hair off her neck, she released Daniel from having any influence over her last full day in paradise. She went snorkeling after breakfast, wandered the paths of the resort and the full length of the beach, swam in the ocean until she was waterlogged, and read the afternoon away under the protective shade of a striped beach umbrella.