Mom shook her head and bit her bottom lip and stared out at the ocean. I watched as a tear dripped down her cheek. Her profile amazed me. My mother was still beautiful. An Italian beauty with soft, dark curls that hung to her shoulders. Her skin was smooth with no wrinkles. She was a woman in her late-forties with a body of a thirty-year-old. My dad had been eight years older than my mom. Knowing how beautiful Grace was, Patrick must have been a handsome man.
She turned to face me. “You didn’t kill Patrick, Leo.”
My eyes shot to hers. “What?”
“He was already dead when you entered the room. I was screaming because Patrick was dead and lying on top of me.”
“But I hit him. I picked up the fireplace poker and hit him over the head.”
“You did pick up the poker, and you did hit him, but you didn’t kill him. You’d just turned five years old. You didn’t know what was happening.”
Rage began to build up inside of me. “Then who killed him?”
“Your father.”
“Dad?”
She nodded and reached for me, but I stepped back away from her, not wanting comfort from her. She didn’t deserve to give me comfort.
“Leo, I’m so sorry. It was all a lie to protect Len. Patrick and I weren’t even really having an affair. He was helping me make your father jealous, but neither of us considered that Len would get violent. It turned ugly because it worked. Your father hit Patrick over the head with the fireplace poker in a jealous rage.”
Jealous rage? I had a difficult time picturing my father in a violent state. He was the calm in most of my storms. But he’d lied to me? They’d lied to me all these years. I racked my brain, trying to figure out why they’d done it. Why let me believe all these years that I’d killed him? Then it dawned on me. I wouldn’t go to prison, and I’d believed Patrick was hurting my mother.
“So you and Dad decided to let me take the blame because I was just a child.”
“Yes. Leo, I’m so, so sorry.”
“You already said that.” Everything was fuzzy in my mind about that day. I’d never really remembered how hard I’d struck the man, but I did remember holding the bloody fire poker in my hand.
“I know. But Leo, you have to understand. I loved your father, and I didn’t want him to go to prison. He didn’t mean to kill Patrick. Patrick was his friend. They went to college together. And I loved your father more than life itself.”
Definitely more than me, apparently.
We’d all been drinking martinis, and Patrick and I thought it would be fun to make Len jealous. It was a stupid joke we conjured. One I’ve regretted every day since.
“I loved Len and wanted to protect him. I knew that if they thought you had killed Patrick, thinking you were defending me, you would never go to jail because you were so young. Leo, you have to understand. Your father would have gone to jail for years and years. Possibly life. You were never even supposed to be there. You were supposed to be down at the beach with my mother playing, waiting for us to join you. After Len took the poker away from you and told you to go outside, he suggested that we let you take the blame, knowing you’d never go to jail. I went along with it. It was wrong. I know. But I loved Len with all my heart. But I loved you, too, and after a while, I couldn’t take the guilt any longer. No matter how much I loved Len, I couldn’t continue to be in your presence, seeing all the anguish you were suffering. So I left. I left and moved away because I couldn’t face you anymore. Every time I looked at you, guilt overwhelmed me, knowing the hurt and pain you were suffering because you thought you’d killed him was because of me.”
It was an act, a travesty to make my father jealous. I’d never hated three people more in my life. Gina and Patrick for conjuring up the stupid charade in the first place, and my father for suggesting I take the blame.
“How could you be so stupid?” I found myself asking, and she cringed, shaking her head. I didn’t expect an answer to that. “How could you go on all these years with the lie?” My father, too. All this time, he was the one closest to me, yet he was the one who’d betrayed me the most.
“How did you find out it was Grace’s father?” she asked in a soft, timid voice as though I’d lash out at her if she spoke to me. I wasn’t my father. I wasn’t a violent man.
“The furniture in the shed. There was an old newspaper clipping of the event.” I told my mother about the vanity and Grace finding the paper in the drawer and how she’d run off after seeing her father’s name as the victim.
“Leo, what you didn’t do was read the rest of the newspaper clipping. If you had, you would know. I hid it in that vanity to show you once I knew it was safe. But as long as your father was alive and there was a chance he’d go to prison, I couldn’t. You didn’t read the part about Patrick and your father being best friends or the part where I confessed that we’d pretended to be sleeping together to make Len jealous before you came in and found us. You didn’t read the part that said you acted out of love and were protecting me because of what you thought was happening—though you already knew that.”
“I was protecting you! But you lied. Made up everything and let me take the blame. I’ve had to live with this guilt my entire life, Mother. Do you know that I almost jumped off the cliff when I was ten?”
She gasped.
“And did you know that I almost jumped again the day Grace left because I thought I’d killed her father? How would you have felt then, Mom?”
“Oh, Leo,” she cried. “Please, honey. I never wanted this for you. You have to believe me. If there had been any other way…”
“And Grace, I can’t even think about what she must be going through. You can take this fucking inn and restaurant and shove it up your ass for all I care.” I headed for the front door, slamming it shut as I left her standing in what was legally her house.
I threw myself into my work after my mother left. I didn’t know where she’d gone and I didn’t ask. I didn’t care. As far as I was concerned, she was dead, too. All I knew was that she’d gone, probably back to her winery in Italy. She’d left me a note saying she was sorry for everything and that she’d quit-claimed the deed for the house, the inn, and the restaurant over to me and left me copies under the note.
I never reopened the restaurant and inn after my father’s memorial. Kate had begged me to, but I didn’t have the heart. There were too many memories of Grace, and I didn’t need the reminders. My life was fucked up no matter that the truth had finally come out. Even if Grace were to find out the true story, I didn’t think she’d ever want anything to do with this place or me, knowing her father had died here at the hands of my father.
I did some investigating, though. I couldn’t just leave her alone. I might not be able to touch her, or kiss her, or have her in any physical way, but I needed to see her to know that she was okay. I’d never stop loving her.
I sat in a rental car, hiding behind a map, pretending to study it when she and some guy walked out of the bar where I’d discovered she worked. The man was tall, about my age, dark hair pulled back straight and slick into a short ponytail that curled into the back of his neck. He wore jeans and a black T-shirt. Both of his forearms were heavily inked with tattoos. Grace was dressed similarly in jeans, but her top was cut short, showing off her midsection. I didn’t like seeing that. She was mine; I didn’t like the idea of men being able to look at her belly that way. And I didn’t enjoy seeing her laughing with and walking so close to Mr. Tall and Inked. I was glad she’d found a job, but I didn’t like the way that guy was looking at her. She’d been lucky and had found a small studio apartment just across the street that faced the ocean. I was thrilled that her love of the ocean hadn’t died when she walked out of my life.
My heart broke into a billion pieces as I watched the two of them walk across the street, her arm slipping easily around his, their faces emanating happiness as they gazed at each other, smiling.
It had only been a month, but it was clear that she’d ma
naged to move on. Rather quickly I might add. The rock in the pit of my stomach flew up and slammed into my heart.
Chapter Thirty-One
Grace
Cars were coming full speed in each direction.
“Quick! Grab on to my arm, and at the next break, we’ll make a mad dash for it together.”
“You’re such a nut. You do realize that me holding your arm this way will keep all my other admirers away.”
“And that’s my plan, Grace. When are you going to give in and go out with me?”
I glanced up at Jax and smiled as we hurried across the street, my arm linked with his. “I told you, I won’t date my boss.” Not anymore. Never again. Besides, my heart still burned for Leo. I didn’t think I’d ever get over him. Telling Jax no because he was my boss had been a great excuse. He was handsome and smart and everything I’d normally go for if my heart didn’t already belong to someone else. Someone I’d never be able to be with or even look at without thinking about him hitting my dad over the head and killing him. But I wasn’t ready to move on. Not yet.
“Then I’ll fire you.”
“Jax, no! I need this job.” I laughed, but for a second, I thought he might be serious this time. He’d been pestering me to go to dinner with him, and telling me he’d fire me so I could, practically since the first day I met him
“Then have dinner with me. Come, on, you have to admit, I’m pretty charming now that you’ve gotten to know me.”
“You’re also full of yourself.”
“Yep.” He laughed. “But I know you’re not seeing anyone right now.”
“And how exactly would you know that?” I dug my key out of my purse when we reached my door.
“Grace, I live next door.” He pointed to the building three feet away from where we stood.
“You spy on me?”
“No.” He shrugged and ran his hand through his dark hair as he pulled out the elastic band he’d had it secured with for work. His hair was gorgeous. Dark and wavy. Leo had dark, wavy hair also, and I couldn’t help but wonder what Leo would look like if he’d let his grow. “Not on purpose. My window faces your studio. It’s hard not to notice when someone walks up our shared sidewalk that connects our two buildings.”
“Right.” I unlocked my door and stepped into the small apartment.
Jax placed the palm of his hand on the inside of the door jamb just above my head. “So, what do you say? You need to eat.” Jax was relentless.
I shook my head. “Actually, right now, all I want to do is soak my feet in a tub of hot water and then go to sleep. I have a boss who ran me ragged today,” I teased.
“Easy to fix that. Just say the word, and I’ll fire you. You’ll be able to collect unemployment and go out with me. It’s a win-win situation.”
I laughed, but when I glanced up at his attractive face, I realized that he was serious. I wasn’t hungry since I’d eaten half a cheeseburger from the deli down the street just a short time ago. The burgers there were huge, and I’d never be able to eat the entire thing even if I had a good appetite. Besides, if I got hungry later, I had some leftover chicken noodle soup from yesterday. My appetite still hadn’t returned to normal. I’d been living off canned soup and crackers most of the time, except for when Candy brought me something yummy she’d concocted and thought I needed to try. If it weren’t for her using me as a taste-tester for her love of experimental cooking, I’d be nothing but skin and bones. I was close to that as it was. When I wasn’t working at Jax’s, all I ever wanted to do was sleep.
“I’m sorry, Jax. I’m just not hungry, and I’d be a complete bore since I’m so exhausted.”
“Okay, Grace. But one of these days, my charm is going to penetrate that barrier you’ve built up, and you’re going to join me for dinner.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Not gonna happen as long as I work for you.”
“Then you give me no choice. You’re fired.”
I laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow at eleven thirty sharp for my shift.” Our little banter about dinner and him firing me had become a fun little ritual to the end of our day. I shut the door and headed for the bathroom, kicking off my shoes along with way. I could already feel the relief that would soon come from soaking in the tub as I turned on the water.
When the doorbell rang, I sighed and shut the water off. Jax must really be hard up to keep trying this way. He couldn’t be that attracted to me. Why couldn’t he leave me alone? I swear, if I didn’t need the money, I’d quit, but I still wouldn’t date him.
“Jax, why can’t you take no for an ans—?” I opened the door mid-sentence and stared at an attractive woman with shoulder-length, dark hair. She smiled.
“Hello. Are you Grace Santini?” she asked, using my father’s last name.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Leo
It had been a week since I’d driven south to see Grace. I missed her so much. I missed her smile. I missed the way her brown eyes sparkled when I’d get her excited. The way she fit so perfectly against my body at night with my arm draped lazily over her waist. I missed everything about her. I’d wanted to go to her the day I saw her walking across the street, but when she’d slipped her arm around that guy’s, I knew I was too late and out of luck. I’d originally gone to explain things. I didn’t think she’d accept me back into her life after everything, but I just wanted her to know I hadn’t been the one to make her life miserable all these years. I just wanted her to know that I hadn’t killed her father. But I knew that even though I hadn’t been the one to actually deliver the killing blow, I was directly related to the man who had. And for that, she’d probably never be able to accept me.
I’d had a productive week, keeping myself distracted by a new grant I’d just received, studying jellyfish venom for use in treating Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s. It was a crucial study in the advancements of synthetic and regenerative medicine, and I was proud to be a part of it. This study was something good for me to give back to a world that I’d always considered myself to be an unworthy inhabitant of. My view on that was changing now that I knew the truth. I was worthy. I just wished I could be with the one person who mattered more to me than the air itself without being a horrible reminder of a tragedy.
Kate had talked me into reopening the inn for the sake of the employees who needed their jobs. For that reason, I’d relented, but I was a terrible manager—as she’d pointed out to me several times over the past two weeks since we’d reopened. But everyone seemed grateful to be back at work, and though business hadn’t picked up to the point Grace had brought it to, it was making a strong comeback. I’d been working since four in the morning and had worked straight through the past six hours without a break. It was Wednesday, and the restaurant was busy. Not a vacant seat in the place, and there was a small waiting list. We didn’t take reservations for lunch, hence the wait list, but we did for dinner, and it was almost completely full.
Lunch had been moderate with a steady stream of customers for about two hours but had finally settled down around two. I’d spent the rest of the afternoon resting up for the dinner shift when I’d be back at it again, waiting tables for the night. The inn was only a quarter full, and the rooms that Grace had wanted to redecorate remained the same as before, boring and unappealing. The inspiration and desire to have them refurbished had disappeared the day Grace walked out of my life.
The dinner hour was upon us and after spending about fifteen minutes in the kitchen with Oscar learning the evening’s specials, I donned my black apron and headed out to take some orders. I walked to the single table by the window, the best seat in the house. Looking down at my pad to make sure I had some blank sheets available, I flipped the page up and said, “It looks like you have the best seat in the house.” It was something I said to everyone who sat there alone to make them feel special.
“I’ve heard that before.” My head jerked up at the beautiful voice that had stolen my soul. My mind must have been playing tricks on me
for a minute. I thought I saw Grace sitting there at the table. I blinked. Twice. But her image and beautiful face didn’t go away because it was Grace.
“Grace.” The sight of her sitting there ignited a flame inside of me that I knew would never die. Her name was all I could get out.
“Hi, Leo.”
I swallowed, finding my voice. “You’re here.” I glanced around the room for the man she’d been hanging on the day I’d seen her in Southern California, but I didn’t see him anywhere, and I noticed the table was set for just one. What was she doing here?
“I heard you’re looking for a manager.”
“You heard right.” I closed my pad and stuck it in the front of my apron.
“Well, I have some experience.”
“Is that so?”
“Uh-huh. I make a pretty decent martini, too.”
“So I’ve heard.” I didn’t want to stand there having this nonsensical conversation. I wanted to grab her up and wrap her in my arms and welcome her home. But was she here for me?
“Can I have the job?”
“You have to ask?”
“I’d hoped you would ask me, but since you’re just standing there like a mute, I had no choice.”
“I don’t…”
“Leo…”
“I don’t want to talk.”
“Oh.” Her eyes drifted to the napkin in front of her, and she fiddled with the frayed edge. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come.” I realized that she’d misunderstood me, and I wanted to clear the air and tell her that I loved her, and of course she could have her job back, but the words were stuck in my throat. “But after your mother came to see me and explained everything, that you hadn’t killed my father, I thought, well, I don’t know what I thought.”
“My mother came to see you?”
“She did. But I understand if you don’t want me here after the way I walked out on you.”
Broken Wide Open: A Stand-Alone Romance Page 18
