“Thanks for the beer. Gotta go. Tell my godson I’ll bring him something from L.A.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
The construction site beside St. Joe’s was a hive of activity, but Aldo Cardano was nowhere to be found. Jack Kilgallin was operating a crane and Ben had to wait until he took a break and climbed down.
“Hello, Doc.” Jack wiped his forehead with a rag and took a long swig from a water bottle. “What can I do for you?”
Ben had planned a dozen different openings on the way over. Now he scrapped all of them.
“I need to know where Sera Cardano is, and I thought maybe you could tell me.” He met the other man’s steady gaze and added, “I really need to talk to her. It’s personal, and believe me, it’s vitally important.”
“Why not ask her parents? Or Gemma?”
“I came over here to find Aldo. But he’s not around, and I don’t have time to make a dozen phone calls.”
“You in love with Sera, Doc?” It was the second time today someone had asked that, and for the second time, the words felt like a blow to Ben’s midsection.
“I don’t know.” He wondered for an instant why he hadn’t denied it outright again.
Jack studied him for what seemed like a minute.
“Gemma told me Sera’s in San Diego. She got a job she wants down there, and she had to leave right away to take it.”
“Any idea where she is exactly? A phone number, an address?”
Ben’s heart sank when Jack shook his head. “All I remember is that the movie company’s called Heartscape Productions, and the guy she’s working for is named Pasquale something or other.” Jack thought for a minute and then added, “Pasquale Young, that’s it. The name sorta stuck in my head. Who’d imagine a big-time producer with a first name like Pasquale and a last name like Young?”
“Thanks, Jack. I owe you one.” Ben jogged across Burrard, hoping against hope that Dana would still be in the office. Conscientious soul that she was, she wouldn’t have taken the afternoon off just because he had, would she? He could do this himself, but Dana would do it in half the time. The outer office door was locked, but Dana was there, busily entering data onto the computer from a stack of files.
“Dana, thank God you’re still here.”
She raised her eyebrows at him as he blurted out, “I need you to locate a man named Pasquale Young. He works for Heartscape Productions in San Diego. It’s a movie company. Tell whoever you talk to that I have to speak to him immediately. It’s a medical emergency.”
He hurried into the inner office and dialed the airline. There were no direct flights to San Diego, but a flight was leaving Vancouver at seven that evening for Los Angeles. Which would mean a long wait if he wanted to a connection to San Diego. Ben booked a seat anyhow. He could rent a car at the airport and drive to San Diego in a couple of hours.
He still didn’t know where Sera was. He went to see how Dana was making out. She had the phone pressed to her ear. “I talked to several assistants. They gave me a cell number. I’m trying that now. Hello, Mr. Young?” Dana repeated what Ben had told her and then handed over the phone.
“Dr. Ben Halsey calling, Mr. Young, from Vancouver, Canada.” Ben dredged up an officious tone, ignoring Dana’s amused expression. “It’s imperative that I get in touch with Sera Cardano immediately. I’m her sister’s physician. Do you have a phone number or address where Ms. Cardano can be reached?”
Pasquale Young was a trusting soul. In another few moments, Ben had the name of a motel.
SERA finished folding the laundry and slumped onto the bed, miserably aware that the tank top she was wearing smelled of perspiration and her shorts were crumpled and grimy. She’d had to wait for a washer, and then wait again for a dryer at the Laundromat down the street, and she felt grubby and utterly exhausted.
Outside, the midsummer air was thick, hot and unbearably muggy, in spite of the fact that the ocean was only a short distance away. The motel room was supposed to be air-conditioned, but the machine in the window wasn’t doing its job.
She should shower and go to bed. It was almost midnight and tomorrow morning she had to get up early and go looking for a furnished apartment. This place wasn’t bad. She’d chosen it because it was close to the beach, but she needed something more permanent, even if it meant living some distance from the water. When he’d hired her today, Pasquale had told her they’d be here several months at least.
Maybe when she got settled in a more permanent place, she’d start feeling better. This blackness that seemed to weigh her down was probably just a reaction to being in a strange city where she didn’t yet know anyone, she tried to tell herself. The other members of the crew had been friendly when Pasquale introduced them, but it was too soon to hope they’d invite her to join them for a pizza and a beer.
She should be thankful she’d gotten a job this fast, and she was; she’d sent Maisie a cute card that afternoon, expressing her love and her gratitude. But grateful or not, she still felt like crying most of the time. She’d never been this alone or utterly miserable in her life, and she couldn’t stop thinking of Ben.
The knock at the door scared her. She sprang to her feet and stood immobile, heart hammering, head spinning from her having jumped up so fast.
“Sera? Sera, it’s me, Ben.”
Ben? Ben? It couldn’t be. A sense of unreality came over her, and she wondered if she was about to faint. At last she staggered over and opened the door, and stared at him, speechless.
“Can I come in?” He sounded amused. “It’s hot and muggy out here. I’d forgotten San Diego is almost Mexico.”
“What—” She stopped and cleared her throat. “Ben. What—what are you doing here?” She stepped aside to let him in and then shut the door.
“I wanted to take you out to dinner,” he said as if that explained everything. “I guess it’s too late for that. Maybe we could find a place to have a cool drink, instead?”
“You—you came all the way to San Diego to take me out to dinner?” She stared at him, dumbfounded. “What—what about Gemma?”
“Gemma?” He looked bewildered. “What about her? She’s doing fine. She has another appointment next week.”
“You—you don’t think this is unfair, leaving her...?”
“Of course not.” He was genuinely puzzled. “She’s just fine, Sera. And I have an excellent man covering for me. If something should go wrong he’s more than capable of dealing with it. I certainly don’t anticipate any problems with your sister.”
Unless he was a consummate liar, he really didn’t know what she meant. The weight inside Sera’s heart eased somewhat. He seemed to view Gemma only as his patient. Had her sister gotten it all wrong, then? Had she misinterpreted his professional attention as personal?
It was possible. Thinking it over, Sera suddenly realized that was more than possible. Gemma had been seriously injured. She wasn’t back to normal; she wasn’t thinking straight. And Ben was here. She, Sera, wasn’t his patient. He’d come all this way— Could he have come all this way solely to see her? “Are you here on a conference or something, Ben?”
“Nope. I just wanted to see you.”
Her heart expanded, and all of a sudden she thought about how she looked—and probably smelled.
He was moving toward her, as if he was about to take her in his arms, and she panicked.
“I was just going to have a shower. I’m really sweaty. It’s so hot. I had to do the laundry. I was going to go to bed.” She drew in a deep breath and blew it out again. “I still don’t get this, Ben.”
“It’s not difficult. I needed to see you, Sera. I felt we were friends, and that fax was a shock I wasn’t ready to say goodbye like that. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye at all.”
There it was. The last of the heaviness drifted away like smoke, and for the first time in days she felt like smiling.
“But—where are you staying?”
“Here.”
She must have appea
red shocked, because he shook his head and laughed, adding, “In this motel, I meant. Even I wouldn’t have been so presumptuous. I’m in unit 237.”
“How did you get here?” She knew she sounded stupid. She couldn’t seem to make her brain work properly.
“I flew to L.A. and rented a car.”
“But how did you find me?”
“I talked to Mr. Young.”
“You talked to Pasquale?”
He looked slightly abashed. “I’ll explain everything if you’ll come out for a drink. And maybe a burger or something. I’m starving. They don’t exactly give you a lot to eat on that plane.”
“I need to shower.”
“Sure, okay, I’ll go and get settled and come back for you in what, ten minutes?”
It was ten to twelve. What was she doing, going out with him at nearly midnight?
“Twenty.”
She was ready in fifteen.
He tapped at the door just as she was sliding bare feet into sandals.
He’d changed into khaki shorts and a blue cotton shirt. He, too, had taken a quick shower. He looked unbearably handsome.
“How beautiful you are in that dress, Sera.”
It was a simple pink cotton shift that ended mid- thigh. Suddenly, she felt beautiful.
He escorted her out to his rented car.
“What did you do with Grendel?”
“He’s having a sleepover with the Brulottes.”
She thought of Stanley and laughed. “Poor Grendel.”
“He’ll survive. It’s like doggie boot camp. It’ll toughen him up, give him character.”
She’d forgotten how easily Ben could make her laugh.
They ended up at a fast-food chain, eating burgers and drinking iced tea. She was finishing the last bite of her fries when he said, “Okay, Sera Cardano. Now, explain why you left the way you did. I thought we were friends.”
Should she tell him about Gemma, what Gemma believed about herself and Ben? She couldn’t. It would be a betrayal of her sister’s confidence. “I told you my career comes first,” she improvised. “Because of Maisie, I had this wonderful opportunity to do the sets for a 1920s miniseries. I couldn’t pass it up.”
“But you said you were going back to L.A. You didn’t even mention San Diego.”
Liars needed good memories, her mama had always said. Maria was right about something else, too. One lie always led to another.
“They changed the venue at the last minute.”
He was watching her, and when he slowly nodded it was a relief. He believed her, and he didn’t belabor the issue. Instead, he reached across and took her hand in his, stroking her fingers in a way that sent shivers up her spine.
“We have two whole days, Ms. Career Lady. I fly back first thing Monday morning. Would you spend forty-eight hours exploring San Diego with me?”
For one instant, she thought again of Gemma. But her sister was far away, and Ben was here of his own free will, and forty-eight hours together sounded like bliss. “I’d love that. Have you been to San Diego before?”
"Once, but I was heading for Mexico, so I didn’t have a chance to see much. We’ll drive around tomorrow, I have a map and a tourist brochure that came with the rental car.”
Sera glanced at her watch. “If we’re going to get any sleep, we’d better go back to the motel.”
They drove along quiet streets, with the car radio playing classical music. Sera dared to pretend they were just a couple of tourists returning to their motel after an evening spent dining and dancing.
Ben walked her to the door of her unit.
“’Night, Sera.” He drew her to him and kissed her, lightly but passionately. “See you in the morning for breakfast about what, nine? Ten?”
“Nine.” She didn’t intend to waste one precious moment, and by his pleased smile she knew he felt the same.
He ran his palm down her cheek, and impulsively she pressed her lips there before she turned, suddenly shy, and went inside. She should have been too excited to sleep, but she closed her eyes and the next thing she knew it was 8:15 and outside her window the California sun was beginning to burn off the early morning sea mist.
Ben was punctual to the minute. She opened the door to his knock and there he stood, smiling at her, looking so handsome and familiar and happy she couldn’t help but smile back.
If faces could ache from smiling, hers would have that entire glorious day. They drove and walked and explored and ate, everywhere from Balboa Park and the zoo to the sleek racing yachts being built on Shelter Island. They talked all day, and by evening it seemed to Sera she had a zillion more things to tell him, and as many to hear about him.
In the hot summer twilight, he drove her to Old Town for a Mexican dinner. They chose an outdoor restaurant festooned with paper lanterns and fresh flowers. The air smelled of barbecue and baking beans. Ben ordered traditional margaritas.
“Grande?” the lovely Spanish waitress asked, her dark eyes twinkling.
“Mucho grande,” Ben replied, and when the drinks arrived Sera gasped. The stemmed glasses were the size of fishbowls.
“I can’t possibly drink all that, Ben.” But when she sipped experimentally, the icy concoction tasted wonderful.
The food arrived, platters of rice and beans and spicy vegetables and chilled salads. A mariachi band played. A dark and handsome man with a thrilling tenor voice serenaded her, and Ben pretended to be jealous. A flower vendor stopped by and Ben bought a fresh white gardenia and came around the table to thread the stem through her hair so the flower sat just above her ear. He slid his fingers under the spill of her heavy hair and touched her nape with his fingertips, and she shivered. Spanish words and lighthearted laughter rose and fell all around her.
Sera relished every drop of her margarita. Pleasantly dizzy and more than a little tipsy, she hung on Ben’s arm as they walked to a tiny historic theater to watch a play. She sat beside him in the dimly lit room, laughing at the hilarious lines but aware mostly of her palm pressed against his.
And every moment, she felt that a part of her was observing, nodding in satisfaction and saying, So this is how it feels to be carefree and young. This is how it feels to be with someone you might come to love.
After the play, he insisted on buying her a magnificent scarlet and black Mexican shawl to tie over a bathing suit or use as a wrap on a summer evening. And during the drive back to the motel, he turned the radio to a Spanish country and western station and sang along, making up his own fractured and funny versions of the maudlin songs. He kept her hand locked inside his fingers, resting on the hard muscles of his thigh, his thumb stroking across her skin.
She closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the seat. She was happier than she could remember being since she was a child. She felt pampered and cherished and admired. She wanted the night never to end, but she knew that when it inevitably did, she wanted it to be in Ben’s arms.
She didn’t want to sleep alone tonight.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ben pulled into the motel lot and turned off the motor.
Sera had been debating what to say once they arrived, and now she made up her mind.
“Would you like to come in for coffee?” It was such a clumsy way to do it, but it was the only way she could think of at the moment. She wanted to just say, Would you like to come in and make love with me? But men liked to make the first move, she still believed, in spite of the sexes being equal. And what if he refused? She’d feel such a fool. She held her breath. What if she’d guessed wrong? What if...
“Sounds good.”
She breathed again. They reached her door, and she fished out the key and, on the third try, fumbled it into the lock.
“Let me.” The door opened smoothly and he followed her inside.
She headed to the minuscule kitchen, where she plugged in the kettle and poked in her cupboard for the jar of instant coffee. She was so nervous as she put it in the cups that she spille
d granules across the counter. “Cream and sugar?”
“Black is fine.”
When the coffee was finally ready he took his cup and sat on the sofa, patting the seat beside him. She sat down facing him, cradling her cup between her palms the way she longed to cradle his face. Their eyes met, and she saw reflected a silent acknowledgment of raw physical desire. She’d been right. Ben felt it, too.
His eyes were caressing her, and her skin prickled. She was burning up. She looked away, searching for something to say that would deflect the tension.
“I think I got too much sun today,” she blurted. Fantastic, Cardano. Now he knows that just sitting beside him makes you hot. So much for being subtle.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he set down his coffee, took hers and put it down, as well. Then he slid an arm around her shoulders and moved over beside her, his body not quite touching hers, but almost
“I want you, Sera.” His voice was no more than an urgent, husky whisper. “I don’t want to rush you, but I ache with wanting you.”
She knew how that felt. She’d been aching herself. All day. Longer. Probably ever since the first time he’d kissed her that first night in his apartment in Gastown.
Right now, she badly wanted him to kiss her again. What was he waiting for? She tilted her head up and touched his lips with hers ever so lightly, inviting him.
His breath rasped in her ear, and he pulled her into his arms. “Careful, sweetheart. This could get dangerous.” His voice was rough and not quite steady. “Are you sure it’s what you want, Sera?”
She thought he was telling her again that sex was as much as he had to give. There’d be no future with him. There’d be passion and laughter and excitement, but the time would come, perhaps very soon, when it would all be over.
Was that what she wanted? Was she ready to take the chance that her heart would stay intact if they continued?
Her brain had misgivings, but her body did its best to overrule them. She had needs like every other woman, she reasoned. Was it so wrong to give in to them, to grab at the pleasure she desired without worrying over the aftermath?
Double Jeopardy Page 13