Now Louisa swallowed wrong. “Friends?”
“You sent me the car. You sent me that pro bono client, Fred Minell. I don’t know if you heard about the company’s new public relations policy, but Siegal was happy I was working on a charity case. It took me three days of my own time to straighten Fred out. I got him fixed up with the Feds, a credit agency, and a financial manager. And I might have found him a better-paying job. Siegal was impressed, I can tell you.”
“I’m sure his wife and son will be too.”
“What? Oh, yeah, them. Anyway, I thought enough time has passed, water under the bridge and all that, that we could talk.”
Louisa was rocking so hard the rest of the iced tea sloshed out of her cup. “We have nothing to say to each other.”
“Come on, you were sending me messages. The car, the client. I figured that meant you wanted me to call.”
“I was sending you a headache.” Maybe, though, in some perverse way, she did expect Howard to respond in some manner. Maybe she needed to face him once and for all and air some of her outrage and enmity. Louisa stroked the dog, who had come to lick the spilled tea, while she thought about it. When she stopped rocking Champ leaned reassuringly against her leg, and she could feel some of the hostility fading away—until Howard opened his mouth again.
“Fred said you were working for some old coot, shtupping some other guy who fixes houses, or both of them. Good grief, Louisa.”
“An old coot? A guy who fixes houses? Is that what Fred said? And you believed him, a cheating, lying, drunken gambler who doesn’t support his own kid?”
“He is working on his problems. And he didn’t think much of your two boyfriends, either.”
“They’re not my boyfriends.”
Howard ignored her protests, the way he had always done. “You can do much better, darling.”
“Like you?” Champ sidled away at her tone of voice, as if he were afraid he’d done something wrong. She started rocking again, fast enough to make the old wicker squeak. “But I already had you, didn’t I? I don’t see how I could do any worse.”
“There’s no call to get nasty.”
“No? Should I wait until after you apologize for not telling me you didn’t want to marry me? Or after you say you’re sorry you made a fool out of me? Or maybe when you show some regret for costing me my job, my money, my self-esteem?”
In typical Howard fashion, he focused on the finances. “Now wait a minute. I did try to give you a check.”
“But you didn’t try to resend it, once the immediate shock was past. You didn’t try to see if I was all right. You didn’t care if I dropped off the face of the earth—until I sent messages to people you work with.”
Howard was on his feet, tossing his crumpled cup at her feet. His face was red, not just his nose, and he was shouting. “Now you listen to me. I—”
“Is everything all right here, Louie?”
Neither one of them had heard Dante drive up, slam his truck door, or greet Champ. He was speaking to Louisa, but he was looking at Howard, the new faucet unit in one hand, a pipe wrench in the other.
She made the introductions. “Howard, this is Dante Rivera. He fixes things. Dante, meet Howard Silver. He breaks things.”
Howard nodded briefly, then turned away from the sweaty, greasy, unshaven clod to ask, “‘Louie’?”
“Everything is fine, Dante. We can have lunch in a minute.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
Champ followed Dante into the house. As soon as Dante was gone, Howard asked, “So are you screwing him?”
“You’re disgusting. He’s fixing the sink. Are we done here?” She stood up, as if to follow Dante.
Howard ran his hand through his hair. “Listen, darling. I am sorry, and not just for thinking you’d sleep with a plumber. The whole wedding mess was not well done of me, I admit it. I just couldn’t face you, I was that ashamed. But I knew it was wrong to go on with the ceremony. We had problems.”
“You had the problems, Howard. The Porsche, the money, your mother.”
“Why don’t we leave my mother out of this? You never liked her.”
“You liked her too much. But that’s no skin off my nose.” Which was well-protected by a hat. “By the way, did you ever get the Porsche repaired?”
“No. It’s in Mother’s garage. I can’t find anyone to repair it for what the insurance company thinks it’s worth.”
“I want it.”
“You thought it was a ridiculous luxury.”
“I still do. But I have a mechanic friend who does super bodywork. He can fix it and we can split the money when it gets sold. I think you owe me that much.”
For once Howard bypassed the money. “You have more friends like that?” He waved his hand toward the screen door, where Dante had gone. “Gads, you’ve fallen far.”
“Far enough to recognize an honest man, no matter what he does for a living or what he’s wearing or driving. I’m a slow learner, but I’m working on it. What are you working on, Howard? Your golf handicap?”
“Please, I don’t want to fight. You just deserve better. You’re a wonderful woman, darling, beautiful inside and out. Everyone says so. You’ve got great people skills. You should see the new personnel director they hired to fill your job.” He shuddered. “The people she hires can’t even follow simple directions. We miss you. I miss you.”
“And it took you three months to realize that?”
“I guess I’m a slow learner too. Please try to understand, I was just afraid of that final, permanent step. We’d been together so long, but the wedding would have put a seal on it. I wouldn’t have any more bachelor flings, no casual affairs, unless I cheated on you, of course, which I wouldn’t do once I said ‘I do.’”
Louisa tried to untangle that speech. “Did you cheat on me before the wedding, then? I wondered if there was more to it than the Porsche.”
Howard was twisting the ring he wore on his pinkie finger.
Louisa held up a hand. “No, don’t answer me. I have little enough respect for you already. But it’s funny, I thought you were too busy to get bored with only one woman.”
“It took me this long to realize that it’s more boring, and more time-consuming, without one.”
“You mean no one takes your laundry to the dry cleaners, or sees that your house is clean, so you have to tend to those pesky chores?”
“Mother takes care of those things.”
“I’m sure she does.”
He frowned. “That’s not what I meant. It’s boring to tell your life story to a new date every weekend, tiresome to wait to see if something clicks. Christ, then there’s the first time in bed together, with all that anxiety to perform, and—”
“You? I didn’t think you cared enough about sex to be anxious.”
He pretended not to hear that his long-term lover believed he was indifferent to lovemaking. “I thought we could… You know…”
The rocker slammed to a halt. “Have relations?”
“No. Maybe date, be friends again, that kind of thing.”
“We were never friends, Howard. We were like an old married couple, used to each other, leaning on each other. There was no closeness, no spark, no camaraderie. Just familiarity.”
“I loved you.”
“Not as much as you loved your car, though.”
“You loved me,” he insisted.
“Did I? Maybe. Or maybe I wanted to fulfill my girlhood dreams of getting married. Maybe I just didn’t know any better. I do now.”
“I think I deserve a second chance, to make it up to you. I helped your friend Fred, didn’t I? And I’ll hand over the title to the Porsche, if your other friend comes to get it, naturally. But think, darling. Boat mechanics, auto-body repairmen, plumbers—you need me!”
“You forgot about the old man.”
“Him too. And I need a date for some big shindig at Southampton College next weekend.”
&nb
sp; “Ah, the bottom line, finally.”
“All the partners are going to be there. The firm is sponsoring a new professorship or something, naming a chair for some old fart. It’s more of that public relations garbage I told you about, and because they all have summer houses out here. I can’t just make a donation, either. I have to show up, and not alone. They like you, Siegal and the others do, and I wouldn’t look like such a bastard if you came with me. They’d be happy to see we were friends again.”
“But we’re not friends, Howard. And I am already going to the President’s Ball at the college.”
Howard stepped back. “You are?” He looked at her in her cutoff jeans, with the grease and rust stains on her legs, the freckles on her cheeks. Then he looked at her house, noting the rotting window frames. “Living here? Like this? Tickets cost a fortune.”
“I know. I saw the invitation.”
“So who’s your escort?” he asked with a sneer. They both heard Dante and the dog coming down the stairs, whistling. “Your handyman special?”
“No, Howard. I’m going with the old fart, the guest of honor.”
Chapter Thirty-One
“Regrets?” Dante asked, coming out onto the porch to stand behind Louisa, watching the silver Jag pull away.
“Yes, that I didn’t have the pipe wrench in my hand.”
“That’s all?”
“Oh, there were a few more things I wanted to mention about his character, or lack thereof, but I think I hit all the high spots.”
“Was it good for you?”
She smiled. “Better than sex.”
Maybe better than sex with Howard, Dante thought, but she hadn’t much to measure by. Yet.
The conversation, which he could hear from the bathroom window right above the porch, worked for Dante. He put his arms around Louisa’s shoulders and gently pulled her back against him, kneading her tense shoulders. As she relaxed, he could feel bands of steel falling away from his own chest, as if someone had cut the cage bars and his very soul could fly again. His spirits went soaring. She’d dumped Horton. She didn’t want him, didn’t like him, didn’t want anything more to do with him. She was over him. Louisa Waldon was an independent woman now, standing in no man’s shadow. She was free, and so was Dante. “Do you know what you need?”
“Not a new sink, please.”
“No, yours is working perfectly now. What you need is an afternoon off, away from the house, away from your jobs and responsibilities.”
“That’s how Mr. Bradford felt, too.”
“He was right, especially now. You need a break, and a nice dinner afterward.”
She was drained, though. Dante’s strong hands on her neck and shoulders felt heavenly, but standing there was taking about all the energy she had. “I don’t feel like going out any more today. I’ve dealt with enough difficult people for one morning, without facing crowds and traffic.”
“But I don’t intend to go socializing, or out for dinner. I’m cooking at the houseboat. The catch is, you’ve got to catch your own meal. Come fishing with me this afternoon, Louie?”
“I haven’t been since I was a kid. We used to go out on one of the big party boats from Montauk. I didn’t like it much. It was crowded, noisy, and smelly. And it left the dock at some godawful hour of the morning.”
“My boat’s nothing like that, and we’ll leave when we’re ready.”
Louisa was enjoying his touch too much to think about going anywhere. “Howard and I went on a cruise last year. I didn’t like that a whole lot, either.”
He kept rubbing her shoulders. “Why not?”
“Everyone ate too much and gambled too much, but when we’d go ashore we’d see the poorest people you can imagine, with children begging on the streets. How could anyone enjoy the extravagant opulence of the cruise ship in the face of such poverty? Howard said we were helping the local economy, but it ruined the trip for me.”
“I promise we won’t see anything but seagulls looking for handouts.”
“Hmm.” She tilted her head so he could rub a particularly stiff spot on her neck. “My father used to take my sister and me rowing along the shore in a little dinghy. We had to wear life preservers because the boat could tip over. You do have life jackets, don’t you?”
“Of course, but you won’t need one. My boat doesn’t tip, and we’re not going out of sight of land. The fluke are right in the bay now, big ones. Doormats, they’re called, and you’ve never eaten better fish than a fresh fillet, broiled with crabmeat stuffing.”
“You can cook too? I mean, besides fixing things.” And making a woman feel as if she were a handful of clay he was shaping into something precious and lovely.
“Simple meals. The local corn is at the farm stand, and the first real tomatoes are out, for a salad. Say you’ll come, Louie. You’ll like it fine, I promise.”
He wasn’t promising a boat ride and a meal, and they both knew it. His massage of her neck and shoulders had gone from muscle-relaxing to muscle-melting. Alone, on his houseboat, with a man whose touch made her knees weak? “I thought Teddy was going with Francine to buy new sneakers today.”
“Teddy is not invited.”
He was so close his breath made the hair near her ear flutter, and that wasn’t the only thing that stirred. She could feel his interest burgeoning behind her. Alone, with the lapping of the water against the hull, and the moon for illumination?
“What about Champ?”
“I don’t have a life jacket his size. It’ll be just you and me, a couple of fishing poles, an easy dinner. No pressure.”
Alone in the dark with Dante—no pressure? Hah! “I’ll need a shower first.” And to shave her legs, tweeze her eyebrows, slather on that expensive body lotion…
He nearly pushed her into the house. “Grab a sweatshirt for later. It might get cold out on the water. I’ll wash up down here and put the tools away.”
“Oh, and eat lunch. I started to make the sandwiches. Everything’s on the counter in the kitchen.”
“What about you?”
“I’m not hungry.” She was, but not for tuna fish, not by a long shot. She missed his touch already. “Too much aggravation, I guess. I’ll wait for my fish dinner.”
Louisa took a moment to admire her new bathroom faucets, until she realized the shiny chrome didn’t cover the decades of grunge around the handles. Aunt Vinnie would know how to get rid of the stains and scum. She’d worry about that tomorrow.
Dante fed half his sandwich to the dog, out of guilt for leaving him behind. “Not tonight, pal. You’ve had her for months. Tonight is mine.” He’d worry about the rest of it tomorrow.
On the drive to the docks, Louisa asked, “You are coming to the ball at the college, aren’t you?”
He looked over at her, at the stop sign. “What, you think you need reinforcements?”
In total honesty, since that seemed appropriate right now, Louisa answered, “Yes. I’d like to have another friendly face nearby.”
“I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss Mr. Bradford’s big night, or dancing with the prettiest woman at the party.”
“What, is your ex-wife going too?”
He laughed. “She wasn’t invited.”
“You won’t, um, be driving this, will you?” Louisa’s wave encompassed the pickup, with its dents and rust and stained upholstery.
“What, are you afraid it’s not up to the Jag?”
“I’m afraid you’ll be sent home by the valet parkers.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take the car. I’ll even wash it first.”
Louisa remembered that he’d said he had a car in the garage. “Why don’t you ever drive it?”
He grinned, showing those dimples. “Real men drive real trucks, not those SUV station wagons.”
If he wanted to prove his manhood, Louisa could think of a lot better ways…and she was thinking of nothing else. She figured she just might get to see some proof of Dante’s virility tonight, and she wasn’t thinki
ng trucks.
“I’m getting a new truck at the end of the summer, anyway. Or after the striped bass surf-casting season at the latest. I love this one, but there’s no denying the seat covers don’t come clean anymore, and once the windows are rolled up, well, you wouldn’t want to ride in it.”
She didn’t want to ride in it now, but Dante had wanted her to come along when he made a couple of stops, canceling appointments, picking up salad ingredients and wine and bait. He wasn’t giving her a chance to change her mind, it seemed.
While they waited on the check-out line at the supermarket, Louisa said, “Howard mentioned something about a new job for Francine’s husband, Fred. Do you know anything about that?”
“I know some people at the Jersey shipyards. That might be best for everyone, giving him a fresh start, giving Fran some breathing room.”
“She’s thinking of asking Alvin to move into your aunt’s house. Will you mind?”
“It’s not for me to mind, one way or the other, as long as he keeps going to meetings. She says Alvin’s rent money could help pay for college tuition, which she refuses to take from me, even as a loan, and he’ll trade looking after Aunt Vinnie and Teddy sometimes, for home-cooked meals.”
“She likes him.”
“I think she just wants to see the rest of his tattoos.”
Louisa could relate to that. There were a lot of things she wanted to see more of. The rickety dock at the end of a dirt road, with four boats tied to it, wasn’t one of them. “You keep your boat here, instead of the marina?”
“It’s more private.”
Louisa was thankful for that, she supposed, that the entire town wouldn’t know she was going out for an afternoon cruise with Dante. Then a bald guy came out of the little shed near the dock. Dante introduced him as the man who looked after the boat. “Want me to come along, Mr. Rivera?”
“Not today, Rick, I brought my own first mate.”
First mate? First mating? Louisa could feel her cheeks burning.
“I can see you did, Mr. Rivera. I can see you did.” The whole town would know soon enough.
The boat was not what Louisa expected. She thought he’d own one of those sleek cigarette boats or a gleaming sports fisherman draped with outrigging. Instead he led her to a smallish black cabin cruiser.
Love, Louisa Page 23