by Susan Wiggs
“I can’t believe you came here and picked a fight with Teddy.”
“He picked one with me.”
“He wouldn’t have if you hadn’t shown up.”
Alex leaned against a lamppost. “I didn’t come here to make trouble,” he said. “I’m sorry this happened.” He touched his jaw again. “Real sorry. I should have walked away.”
“Yes. You should have.”
“Now it’s too late.” His eyes were hooded by the night shadows. “I’m not going to hurt you, Rosa.”
She prayed he couldn’t see that he already was. His very presence opened old painful places inside her, places she used to believe had healed. “I’ll pass that message along,” she said.
“Thank you.” His gaze flickered around the parking lot until he found a security camera mounted on the center light pole. “Think he’ll believe you?”
“I’ll make sure he does.” She glanced over her shoulder. “So...are you here for dinner?”
“I’m here for you, Rosa.”
A chill that had nothing to do with the evening breeze slipped over her skin. She had a hundred reasons not to be with him; she’d lain awake at night dreaming them up. At the moment, she couldn’t think of a single one. Best not to let him know that, though.
She laughed as if he’d made a joke. “Oh, I’d nearly forgotten. You’re stalking me.”
He offered a lopsided grin, favoring his injured jaw. “If that’s what it takes.”
She ignored the extra beat of her heart. “You’re wasting your time. We don’t belong together, and you were smart enough to figure that out years ago. Let’s leave well enough alone. That’s what I want—to live my life and run my restaurant.”
“You don’t want to live happily ever after?”
“It is after. And I’m happy,” she retorted.
“So you’ve said before. I’d hate to see you when you’re mad.”
“Look, Alex. We’re not kids anymore. Whatever happened in the past...it doesn’t matter now.”
Without warning, he cradled her cheeks in his hands. “My thoughts exactly.”
She nearly melted right then and there, her whole body warming to his touch. “This is a bad idea.”
Keeping his hands in place, he glared up at the security camera. “I’m going to have a seat at the bar—”
“I’m working. I don’t have time to have a drink with you.”
“That’s not what I’m asking. I need to have a chat with your friends Vince and Teddy.”
She stepped back. “No way.”
“I’m not going to spend the summer sneaking around like teenagers.”
“There’s no need to sneak, Alex. Just walk away in plain sight.”
“That’s not going to happen.” He started toward the entrance.
Her heart tripped over the possibility he held out. To be with him again, after all this time. She loved the idea; she hated it. She had made herself into a pillar of female strength, and now he was back, chipping away at her. “Are you crazy?”
“Maybe. I’ll be in the bar if you need me.” He paused and looked back at her. “It’ll be all right, Rosa, I swear it.”
She glared up at the camera and then went inside. When she stepped into the steaming, clattering kitchen, everyone was hard at work, as though they had not just been glued to the monitors, spying on her for the past ten minutes.
“If he decides to come inside,” she said tersely to anyone who would listen, “let him.”
Unable to resist, she kept an eye on the video system and noticed that Alex had indeed gone into the bar. He was not alone. Somehow he had persuaded Vince and Teddy to join him. Alex held a plastic bag of chipped ice against his jaw. The other two were both talking at once, leaning across the table, occasionally making a point with the pounding of a fist.
Rosa could still feel Alex’s hands cupping her cheeks. She felt dizzy with the sensation of it. He was back, and willing—perhaps foolishly willing—to fight for her.
This was not the Alex Montgomery who had stolen her heart long ago, then walked away with it like a thief, leaving her empty. This was a different person.
twenty
“Thanks for meeting with me,” Alex said to the two formidable, skeptical men. He knew he looked ridiculous holding the bag of ice on his face, chilly drops streaming down his arm. Plan B had seemed like a good idea at the time, but maybe he should have worked it out in a little more detail.
“We don’t like what you have to say, we’ll kick your ass,” Teddy warned.
Christ, where did Rosa find these characters? Alex wondered. The Sopranos?
“You already did that,” he said genially, “but I’m not changing my mind about seeing Rosa again. It’s that simple. That’s why I’m here.”
“No, you’re here because Rosa said to let you in,” said Vince.
Alex remembered him as a skinny, pimply-faced punk. He’d turned into a fashion plate in an Italian suit. There was a fierce affection in his eyes when he spoke of Rosa.
“Okay,” he said, “so she’s lucky to have friends like you. But I have to ask, do all the guys she goes out with get the same kind of royal treatment?”
“No, of course not,” Vince said with a wave of his hand.
“What’s so special about me?”
Vince’s glare was an arctic blast.
“We were young,” Alex said. “Kids break each other’s hearts every day. It happens, okay?”
“Not like that.”
“Like what?”
Teddy and Vince shared a look. “This was not your ordinary broken heart,” said Teddy.
“It’s not like she took to her bed and ate a pound of chocolate,” Vince added.
“Didn’t eat anything, more like,” Teddy added.
“Slow down,” said Alex. “You’ve lost me.” He tried to piece together the shattered memories of that time. Clearly these two thought they knew something he didn’t. “You’re saying she went on some sort of hunger strike and it’s my fault?”
“She could have died,” Teddy said, ignoring his question, “but you wouldn’t know that. You were long gone.”
A sick lump formed in Alex’s gut. Running away from responsibilities—wasn’t that what his father used to accuse him of? Was that what he’d done?
Vince folded his hands on the tabletop. “She was all alone after her father’s accident. Her brothers tried to help, but they were in the service and couldn’t stay. She stuck around while Pete learned to walk and talk again. It took two years, and he got better eventually. Except for his hearing.”
“His hearing?”
“He’s totally deaf. Does fine, but Rosa worries like crazy about him.”
Alex reeled from the news. When Pete had brought Joey over the other day, Alex hadn’t noticed a thing. Deaf. Pete Capoletti, who adored opera and jazz, had lost his hearing. One night. So many lives were changed by that one night.
“But the thing is,” Vince went on, “she worked herself into exhaustion, all alone, trying to do everything on her own. She never admitted there was anything wrong until she collapsed at work one day. Someone called 911 and she had to go to the hospital.”
He set down the bag of ice. His jaw was completely numb. “So where the hell were you guys while this was going on?” He could tell they felt guilty, too. Maybe that was why they were so protective now.
“At first, nobody noticed,” Vince said. “Nobody realized she was staying at work until after midnight, getting up at dawn to go to the hospital, working weekends and trying to manage on her own.”
He felt sick. Everything had gone so wrong for her. That wasn’t supposed to happen. With only good intentions, he’d walked away from the love of his life. He thought it was the right thing to do
under the circumstances. But when he considered what had happened in the aftermath, he wondered if he should’ve done something differently. But what? he wondered. What?
“She got better,” he said, desperate to know her suffering had been brief.
“Hell, yes, she got better,” Vince said. “She scared herself into getting well. She realized her father would be completely alone if something happened to her. But she’s different now.”
He tried not to crane his neck around, looking for her. He longed to see her through new eyes, with this new knowledge. “What do you mean, different?”
“You can’t go through all that and not be changed by it. Her father was nearly killed by a hit-and-run driver. She lost out on her chance to go to college. You walked out when she needed you most, and she almost didn’t survive. A few life-altering events, I’d say.”
Alex crushed a cocktail napkin in his fist. She never knew he had thought about her constantly. From a distance, he’d followed Pete’s recovery progress as much as he was able. Clearly, he’d missed a few things. No wonder she was so bitter when he came back the last time. No wonder she’d sent him away.
“So,” Vince said, “we don’t like people coming to town and upsetting her.”
Alex’s jaw felt hot now, as the numbness tingled to life. “She’s a grown woman who can take care of herself. So how about you let her make up her own mind about whether or not she wants to see me again?”
“She doesn’t,” Vince said quickly.
“Have you asked her?” Alex shot back.
Vince’s hesitation and the glance he exchanged with Teddy indicated that he hadn’t. “Just what are your intentions?” he asked.
Alex burst out laughing, then winced in pain. “I’ll answer that question when it comes from Rosa.”
“We don’t trust you,” said Teddy. “What the hell are you doing back here? You’re rebounding. Your fiancée just dumped you.”
Yet another charming aspect of being a Montgomery. Your personal life made the gossip columns. “That has nothing to do with Rosa and me,” he said. “And frankly, neither do you guys. So back off.”
Teddy glowered at him. “We’ll do whatever Rosa wants us to do.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Alex picked up the ice pack again and held it to his jaw. He was starting to question his own sanity now. Sanity. He hadn’t even begun to deal with his mother’s suicide. He and his father were like cordial strangers, willingly engaging in a conspiracy of denial. The Montgomery way, he thought. Sometimes it was probably better to haul off and punch someone.
“You want a beer or something?” Teddy offered in a conciliatory tone.
“No, thanks.” Alex intended to stay sober. He didn’t want to be poured home, as he had his first night here.
Rosa appeared at the bar. Her black dress was probably meant to be conservative. On Rosa, it looked like a Victoria’s Secret ad. Alex had a swift, almost brutally carnal reaction. He hoped it didn’t show as he stood to greet her.
“You’re just in time to rescue me.”
She looked bemused. “Do you need rescuing?”
Alex eyed Vince and Teddy. “They say they’ll do whatever you want.”
Her eyebrows went up. “Excellent. I want you guys to get back to work. How’s that?”
They exchanged a glance, then subjected Alex to a final threatening glare and went to their stations. He held a chair for her. “What can I get you to drink?”
“A nice little espresso,” she said, although she didn’t sit down. She paused and looked him straight in the eye, her expression both frank and mysterious.
“At my place,” she added.
twenty-one
Every bit of Rosa’s common sense shrieked Danger as she drove toward her condo with Alex’s headlights beaming in the rearview mirror. Everyone kept telling her she should deal with him so she could move on, once and for all. She was going to do her best to accomplish that tonight.
She had never been nervous about bringing a man home before. But Alex was different in every possible way—and she was different when she was with him.
They had started this meeting—date, rendezvous, whatever it was—with a debate about the cars. He wanted to drive her, but she wasn’t about to leave her Alfa behind at the restaurant parking lot, thus informing the entire staff as to exactly how much time she was spending with Alexander Harrison Montgomery.
“At my place,” she muttered under her breath, mimicking herself. “I’ve had better ideas.”
Still, anything was preferable to being with him at the restaurant with everyone hovering.
She tried to remember how much of a mess she’d left her place in. If he didn’t go near the bedroom or closet, she was safe. And she wasn’t about to let him get anywhere near the bedroom, she told herself firmly, no matter how incredible he looked or how much she hyperventilated at the sight of him.
“Big deal, so he’s coming up for coffee,” she said, slowing down as she turned on to her street and into the parking alley. He pulled into a Visitor spot and they both got out at the same time.
The condos in her building had a commanding view of the bay. On a clear day, she could see the ferry steaming back and forth between the mainland and Block Island and the fishing fleet from the port of Galilee heading out to the banks. At night, the lighthouse beam swung out over dark water dotted with tiny lights from the fishing vessels.
“I bought this place three years ago,” she said, trying to be smooth as she unlocked the front door. The historic building, once a Victorian resort, was now a beautifully refurbished condo complex. “It’s small, but...” She forced herself to quit babbling. No need to explain or excuse anything.
She stepped inside and flipped on a light switch. Her place had a view of the sea and was filled with the things she loved. Unfortunately the things she loved were a haphazard collection, and a perpetually work-in-progress air hung over the apartment. The restaurant consumed her, and she’d never gotten around to serious decorating.
She did have a motif, at least. She’d created it around her favorite item—a tablecloth Mamma used in the kitchen for everyday. Its colorful design of flowers and roosters had influenced the other choices—painted vases, chintz curtains and white bead board trim everywhere. One of these days, she told herself, she’d get around to pulling it all together.
Still, even in this state, it was all terribly personal. Her house was...her home. It revealed so much about her. It would be like standing before him naked.
Although she suspected it would be less of a turn-on.
“Make yourself at home,” she said. “I’ll fix us an espresso.”
“Thanks.” He stepped inside and looked around. From the kitchen, she watched him as she took out the coffee and got to work. She used the same coffee served at Celesta’s—estate-grown organic beans from the Galapagos Islands. The La Pavoni Romantica espresso maker had been one of her few extravagances for the apartment—a classic lever-style machine with polished brass and hardwood handles.
Alex wandered into the tall-ceilinged main room. She saw him looking around, but couldn’t read his expression. She wanted him to see that she’d done fine for herself, that she had a great job, friends and family around her.
The furniture consisted of an overstuffed chintz sofa, a matching chair and ottoman. At present, the ottoman was occupied by a pair of cats who eyed Alex with blasé effeteness. He stuck his hands in his pockets and eyed them back.
“Romeo and Juliet,” she told him. “They used to be lovers, but since that visit to the vet they’re just friends.”
“Are they friendly?” he asked, stretching out a hand to Romeo’s funny pushed-in face.
“They’re cats,” she said, grinning as Romeo turned up his nose at the outstretched hand. Juliet wasn’t int
erested, either. They poured themselves off the furniture, then minced away.
“I think they’ve been talking to your friends at the restaurant,” Alex said.
“They don’t talk to anyone.” She saw him glance at the terrarium on the windowsill. “The turtles are Tristan and Isolde, and their offspring are Heloise and Abelard.”
“So where are Cleopatra and Mark Antony?” he asked.
“In a tomb in Egypt, I imagine. But you can look in the fish tank and see Bonnie and Clyde, Napoleon and Josephine, and Jane and Guildford.”
He bent and peered into the lighted tank. “Fun couples. Is it a coincidence that they all ended tragically?”
“Not a coincidence, just poor judgment.”
“Isn’t it bad karma, naming your pets after doomed lovers?”
“I don’t think they care.”
“Do you mind if I put on some music?” he asked, picking up the remote control to the stereo.
“That’s fine.” She racked her brain, trying to remember which CD she had left in the slot. He hit Play, and it was worse than she’d feared—Andrea Bocelli at his most achingly sentimental.
So big deal, she thought. I like mawkish Italian music. So sue me.
Rosa refused to allow herself to cringe as she watched Alex peruse her bookshelf, crammed with paperback romance novels. She couldn’t bear to part with her favorites, and her collection filled the space from floor to ceiling.
He moved on to another shelf, this one filled with books that were decidedly not romance novels. He turned to her. “Textbooks?”
“That’s right.” The grinder whirred as she ground the beans.
“You’re going to school?” he asked when it was quiet again.
“Constantly.” She put the ground coffee in the portafilter and assembled everything.
“Where?” he asked.
“Where what?”
“Where are you constantly going to school?”
“Any place that’ll have me.” She laughed at his expression. “I’m not enrolled anywhere. I monitor courses that interest me. In the fall I’ll be checking out Georgetown and the University of Milano. It’s just something I do.”