by Kathryn Shay
Reaching over the table, she grasped his forearm. “Oh, Ronan, I’m so, so sorry.”
“I barely made it downstairs when she arrived. I brought the pictures with me. When she saw them, she went crazy. She didn’t deny being involved with him. She started to scream and cry hysterically, and wandered around the first floor, saying his name over and over. I watched her for some time, then when she settled, I told her to leave. She just stared at me. So I—I dragged her by the arm to the front door and physically forced her out.
“She was in a daze by then, but I didn’t care. I got her in her car, shoved her purse at her and told her to leave and never contact me again.”
“And that’s why you left your whole family?”
“Not all of it. Halfway down…halfway down lake road she crashed into a tree and died instantly.” He swiped at the tears coursing down his cheeks. “She died because I kicked her out of here so callously.”
Eliza got up and came to his side. She knelt down and took his hand. “No, Trish died because she betrayed you, your family and herself and couldn’t handle the fallout.”
“Maybe. I didn’t understand it, then, Liza. We made love. We were planning a future together. Going to the same college. And all that time, she wanted him, not me.” He gulped back the emotion. “It makes me sick to this day to know she had sex with us both during that time.”
“I can see why.”
He was sobbing now. The next thing he knew, she was holding him, patting his back, murmuring words he couldn’t understand. When he finally calmed, she stood and went back to her chair, but held his hand across the table. He shrugged. “Hell, that was long in coming. I’ve never told anyone the story. Never said those words aloud.”
“Now you have.”
He went cold. “Except for one piece. After the accident was cleared up, I left Hidden Cove and went back to the Hamptons. My mother was home.
“W-was she surprised?”
“Not at all. Bridget knew about the affair.”
* * *
After his catharsis, she could tell he was drained of all energy. She got him up from the chair, put his arm around her neck, and walked to his bedroom, made him sit on the bed. She even took off his shoes, then eased him onto the mattress fully clothed. She laid down next to him, and held him close and smoothed down his hair. He zonked out in minutes, but she didn’t leave him yet—to clean up, to change, to go sleep somewhere else. There was a very strong possibility he would have nightmares.
Eliza, however, couldn’t fall sleep. The reality of Ronan, a young eighteen-year-old, discovering that so much of his young life was a lie, was heartbreaking. She tried to picture him as a youth, with black hair, exuberant masculinity and wrenching vulnerability. She came to the conclusion that she would have left town, too, and cut off all ties had this happened to her.
He’d lost so much. His innocence. Hayley and Finn and all his Hidden Cove family. Still to come would be the revelation to them about why he abandoned them. She hoped he let her stay with him through that. Depend on her. Allow her to be the strong one. She also hoped that the catharsis he’d gotten from telling her would give him strength.
Shaking her head at the weak, amoral people who brought him up, she understood him more. He was reserved in a way that was hard to define. He still showed emotion—his passion in directing a play, and an explosion or two when things didn’t go right. But mostly he held some of himself back, even with her and Taylor. She wondered briefly if he’d be different now.
Her eyes started to close, but as they did, she vowed to be there for Ronan, as he’d been through her divorce settlement, Craig’s marriage and the birth of his son. He’d also been devoted to Taylor all these years.
Now, she would be there for him. Something she’d always wanted but he’d never let her do. She fell asleep, grateful for that.
Chapter 2
* * *
“You okay?” Eliza asked him in the front seat of his car. They were heading into town.
“Yes. Thanks to you. I needed to vent, to get it all out so I could protect Hayley and Finn when I told them.” He glanced over at her. “I hope you survived it.”
“Of course, I did. I’m no wilting flower, you know.”
“You do kind of look like a daisy today.” She wore slim yellow pants and a long-sleeved matching blouse. “You’re a beautiful woman, Liza.”
“Wow, that’s a sweet thing to hear this early in the morning.” She watched him. “Seriously, though. I’m glad you confided in me.”
“I’m glad, too.”
“Want to talk about it some more?”
“No. Did I tell you last night that I went to therapy in my thirties? To deal with this and leaving my film career.”
“No, you didn’t. That’s a good thing.”
“My counselor helped me straighten myself out.”
She nodded.
“Now, let’s talk about Caroline.” She’d read the play before Ronan picked it. He wanted her insights.
“What’s Mitt Rankin like, do you think?” he asked. “From the script, he seems like a sensitive, emotionally mature man.”
“At only twenty-five?”
“Hard to believe he could write something so outstanding at such a young age.”
They arrived at the playhouse in twenty-five minutes. Numerous cars were parked on the street. The press gathered around the door. He shouldn’t have thrown on the black jeans and black shirt today. Ronny Case always wore them.
As they threaded their way through the crowd, reporters shouted questions at him and tried to stick microphones in his face. The townspeople gawked. Time to summon his movie star talents. He handed Eliza the keys to the front entrance and she stood slightly behind him when he turned to face them. He held up his hands. “If you stop,” he shouted into the cacophony, “I’ll explain why I’m here.”
It took a while, but the press settled. “Hi, everybody, especially the townspeople here who know me. I’ve been under the radar for ten years. I won’t share why or what I was doing. I’ve come to Hidden Cove, where I spent many happy summers and weekends, to produce a play at this community playhouse. I’m hoping to cast it all locally, so any of you who want to try out, take a flyer up here in the plastic box adjacent to the door.”
Ronan had already sent flyers to the town council, the library, and Rafe, his cousin, had even put some in the fire halls. Gid posted them at the Police Academy.
“I’ll give interviews to the press, after the play is cast. My contact information is also on the sheet up here. Meanwhile, I’m not taking questions.”
Nonetheless, they shouted out questions. Eliza opened the door and they walked inside. After turning on the house lights, they made their way down the aisle and to the back office. Mitt Rankin had arrived and waited outside in his car, so he signaled for the guy to come in. Eliza opened the door.
He was as tall as Ronan, but slim, lanky, like a runner. “Hey, Mr. Casella.”
“First off, Mitt, Mr. Casella makes me feel ancient. I’m Ronan, and this is Eliza Ellington.” A warm smile spread across Ronan’s face.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Same to you both.”
He motioned to the chairs in front of his desk. He’d had the place cleaned so everything was in order. Ronan liked order. He also liked air so he opened both windows in the room.
Mitt said, “Eliza, you’re the choreographer of the plays Ronan directed.”
Ronan cocked his head. “So you knew my identity, then?”
“No, I didn’t. I gravitated to drama in high school and college. I could only afford Off Broadway tickets, and I found your shows. They were superb.”
“Thank you. And I, in turn, more than liked your script. Its plot is crisp and well laid out, and the dialogue is realistic. But mostly I appreciated how the mystery stays center stage even amidst the dancing.”
“Thank you. It’s an honor to be chosen by you.”
“Eliza and I are inter
ested in what made you write the content. It will give us some more insight into how to shape the characters.”
“Hmm. The play is all fiction, except for one thing.”
They waited.
“The director is based on my father. He’s dead now, but I used him as the model for Jackson Keene.”
“The villain.”
Mitt ducked his head.
“I totally understand that. My father was a villain, too. Now, to the main character. You give a description of her, but you realize we might not get someone with the same appearance that has the talent the part requires.”
“I don’t care about all that. Though I have to say, Michelle Solvent, from Backing Out was the image I had in mind.”
“Michelle, huh?” Eliza smiled. “She was terrific in that play.”
Mitt transferred his gaze to Eliza. “I adored her, both her acting and dancing.”
She cocked her head. “Her character isn’t like Caroline.”
“No, of course not. But to me, she moves like Michelle.”
Ronan put in, “I’m hoping not to have to go outside of Hidden Cove for the leads.”
“Doesn’t a local playhouse use the community?”
“It does. But they’ve brought others in for various roles. And they’ve had touring companies as well as all-local programs.”
“Interesting.”
“I’d like to talk about the dance sections,” Eliza told him. “You don’t describe them.”
“I’m no dancer and I couldn’t see figuring all that out when a choreographer would come in and do her own thing. I’m so happy it’ll be you.”
Eliza’s brows rose. “You misunderstand. I’m only consulting on the play this week. I won’t be choreographing the play.”
“Are you working on a new project in New York?”
“Well, no.”
He asked Ronan, “Have you asked her?”
“You stole my thunder.” He turned to her, and gave her his best, ingratiating smile. “What do you say, Eliza. Want to choreograph our play?”
* * *
The door barely closed behind Mitt Rankin, when Eliza whirled around to face Ronan. “What was that all about?”
The smile died on his face. “I, um, I want you to stay in Hidden Cove and choreograph the show. Help me with auditions, staging, as well as the ballet scenes.”
“Then why didn’t you just ask me instead of ambushing me like that in front of the author?”
He leaned back and his gaze narrowed. He waited a while before he answered. His thoughtfulness was one of the things she liked most about him. “I should have. I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was going to throw that out. But I have to confess that it had crossed my mind long before you came out here.”
She had a blinding image of him sobbing in her arms last night. All right, so she’d accept the apology with decorum. “I can live with that.”
“Well…do you want to?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“You don’t want to leave your life in New York?”
“What life? I have yoga classes. That’s all.”
“You’re visiting The Yoga Institute today. Going to the most advanced class offered.”
“That’s not the only thing to consider. Where would I live?”
His expression turned confused. “I don’t understand. You’d live at the lake with me.”
“Live with you?”
“We’ve been friends for more than five years. We get along great, except for our disagreements over artistic aspects of the plays we did. What’s the problem?”
“The idea makes me uneasy.”
His expression was all innocent.
“All right, I’ll say it out loud. Did you mean friends with benefits?”
“Maybe. But I wouldn’t ask for a commitment. In therapy, I worked a lot of things out, but I can’t imagine promising my life to a woman.”
“You still don’t trust women.”
“I trust you. Hayley. Ali. But as far as romance, it’s never worked out.” He watched her carefully. “As for you and me and benefits, let’s address that. The truth is, Liza, I’ve thought about you in that way off and on over the years.”
“You have? I’m shocked.”
“You aren’t dating, are you?”
“No.”
“Then we’re both free agents. Which means neither of us has been intimate with others in a long time. What’s wrong with a little recreational sex?”
“Recreational sex.”
“Uh-huh. I bet it would be electric.”
An image of them in bed, tangling the sheets, having sweaty sex flashed in front of her. She’d always wondered what kind of lover he would be.
“Liza?”
“I’m not sure, Ronan.” She stood and walked to the window, her back to him. Then, after a bit, she turned around. “What if sex ruins our relationship?”
“Why would it do that?”
“You say you won’t get involved with a woman. But what if I fall for you? That’d hurt, a lot. And I’d lose you. I don’t want you out of my life.”
“By having fun in the sack with me?”
“You know what I mean. Besides, you’re vulnerable now. You shouldn’t be making any decisions.”
“I am pretty shaken by telling you about my father.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Sex would release the stress.”
A smile flitted across her face, despite her wanting to remain stern. “You can still be the bad boy, can’t you?”
He rose then and crossed to her. Desire flared in his eyes and his stance was all macho and arrogant, reminding her of the poster she’d seen at the lake house of Ronny Case. He cupped her cheek. Rubbed his thumb over her lips. She nearly melted at their first intimate contact. All the hugs and touches through the years and their contact last night were of a different ilk. “Think about it. I’ll need an answer on the choreography soon, though.”
Making a quick decision wasn’t a good idea but she knew she wanted to be with him. Work with him on a play. “I can give that to you now. Yes, I’ll do the play with you. I’d love to, actually. Where I’ll stay, and what we’ll do together is still up in the air.”
Leaning over, he brushed his mouth with hers. Arousal streaked through her. “I can live with that. Now, let’s get you to yoga.”
* * *
When Ronan returned from dropping Eliza off, he was thinking about getting his motorcycle from New York so she could have his car. He’d just sat down when his phone rang. He saw the ID and clicked on. “Hello, Finn.”
“Hey, Ronan. I, um, have a favor to ask.”
“Anything.”
“I hope you’ll tell me the truth.”
“I will, I promise.”
“I didn’t want to ask you in front of anybody, even though I’ll see you this weekend at Hayley’s for dinner.” His cousin took a deep breath. “Millie and I would like to get married without any fanfare. We wondered if we could have the ceremony at the lake house at the end of May.”
“Of course. You didn’t even have to ask. You own a third of the property.”
“Only because you gave it to me and Hayley.”
“In any case, I’d enjoy that very much. What kind of thing are you thinking?”
“The guests would include Millie’s grandparents, our cousins and Carmella and Judd, and Hayley and Paul. Bridget won’t be invited.”
“I’m in. This is a big thing for you, buddy.”
“It has been in the past. But since I got together with Millie, getting married seems…natural.”
“Next thing you know, you’ll have a kid.”
“I hope so.”
“I was kidding you. Is she pregnant?”
“Nope. No shotgun wedding for us.”
“That’s good, I think.”
“I’ll check with everybody and see what date works. Thanks, bro.”
“As I said, the place is partly yours.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I�
�ll be back in touch with the details.”
When he hung up, Ronan felt…jealous. He was happy that his brother had found someone to share his life with. But as he’d told Eliza, he’d never have that kind of happily-ever-after. And today, he felt deprived. Well, at least he might be able to enjoy a relationship with Eliza, if she would agree to be his bed partner. When he kissed her, even the slight brush of her lips, he got hot. Really hot. Man, he hoped she said yes. He meant what he said, there would be fireworks.
With that to look forward to, he went into the auditorium. It was small, like the Off-Broadway theaters he’d been working in for the last five years, so he felt right at home. He held the script to My Sweet Caroline in his hand and decided to start blocking scene one. In it were Caroline and the man she falls in love with.
He turned off the house lights and lit the stage, and began reading all the parts.
LINC: (relaxed, smiling) So, Caroline, what do you think?
CAROLINE: (leaning against a chair) I thought it went well.
LINC: (ducking his head) I’m glad. Sometimes, I can’t keep up with you.
CAROLINE: (moving in closer) You’re a wonderful dancer, Linc.
(Caroline takes Linc’s hand and they begin to move in a simple duet.)
Ronan did a few steps. Then a few more. He’d forgotten how much he liked to dance.
CAROLINE: (smiling at him. Which was what he wanted.) See, you’re great.
JACKSON KEEN: (loudly) What’s going on here?
CAROLINE: (tenses up) We were running through our dance steps.
JACKSON: Without me? (He scoffs) Forget it.
Ronan got halfway through the scene when the doors to the auditorium opened. Hmm. He thought he’d locked up. Shading his eyes, he called out, “Who’s there?”
All he could make out was a figure. He couldn’t tell whether it was male or female. When the uninvited visitor got closer, he gripped the book. His mouth went dry, and his throat felt stuffed with socks.