“Yes,” he said. “An hour a day.”
“Good. We’d like to see you running in Central Park to show that you’re the everyman’s politician. We’re running your platform on the steam of the everyman’s man. You eat at the same restaurants, enjoy the same entertainments and you’re there to look out for the ordinary citizen. You’re young and capable, handsome to boot. Are you dating anyone? No? Good. We have a few suitable women you might be seen squiring around town.”
It was all moving so quickly that Justin barely had time to voice a protest before he was being whisked away for a new wardrobe—his official campaign wardrobe. He was to appear smart and capable but down-to-earth and very approachable.
In between a tailor getting up close and personal with his balls—or inseam, as the man snippily put it when Justin growled at him to stop copping a feel—he realized with a sinking heart, there was no way he’d be able to board a plane now that he had his entourage firmly in place. Rudy would wrangle him before he could step foot in the terminal.
Justin briefly shut his eyes and swallowed the odd lump that rose in his throat as he mentally said goodbye to the woman who haunted his heart.
It was probably better this way, anyway.
Who was he kidding?
Lilah would hate New York.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
LILAH WALKED INTO THE ATRIUM and smiled as the familiar warm and sultry smells of lush greenery assaulted her nostrils. Perhaps it was all in her head, but since becoming pregnant smells seemed so much more vibrant than before, almost alive under her nose. Unlike other smells, such as the aroma of popcorn, which made her want to puke, this one made her want to sink down and roll around in it. She went to her secret closet as she liked to call it and pulled out her painting supplies. Her mind was brimming with something that needed out, something that itched at the confines of her brain and demanded air or else. Even though fatigue dragged at her lids, she made a point never to ignore that creative impulse. She needed to paint as much as she needed to breathe, and when her mind was troubled, painting was her only salvation.
She moved on autopilot as she set up her supplies. The fresh creamy canvas beckoned and she savored the familiar thrill at facing a blank template. It was this point that seemed magical, where anything could happen and the world was full of possibilities. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. Here she found solace from the world, the problems that chased her down, and from the fear that rode her dreams.
A part of her had hoped—like a foolish girl—that Justin would return to her and everything would be perfect. Of course, in her daydream, when she told him of their baby, he swooped her in his arms and professed his undying love for her, pledging his heart to their little family.
And they lived happily ever after.
Okay, so that was a little melodramatic, she supposed, but it was her daydream and she could make it as improbable as she pleased.
Besides, if a girl was going to dream, she might as well dream big.
Lilah rarely knew what she was going to paint when she started off, but soon enough a picture always emerged. Sometimes Lilah was shocked by what appeared, though why she didn’t know. It all came from her head, right? But somehow, it didn’t always seem that way. Sometimes, frightfully, it seemed as if she were two people living in one body. And she never knew which one was taking over.
She knew how that sounded and thus, it seemed only right she’d been medicated but it wasn’t that she was split personality or anything like that. It was just that when she created something, she never set out to do so, it just happened and that’s when she felt that other half took over. Call it her muse, or whatever, but when that happened, it was as if she’d slipped into a trance and when she emerged, she’d created something masterful and scary, evocative and raw.
Her heart bled onto the canvas with each stroke, leaching the pain that would certainly crack her soul in two if she didn’t find a release valve.
Swipes of the brush, dipped in midnight-blue, slapped against the canvas, melded with vibrant splashes of spring-yellow and married with bloodred.
An image emerged as it always did.
That lonely girl. The same girl who walked into the sea and yearned to sleep at the bottom stared off into a dark and turbulent distance, that familiar sense of longing and sadness draped around her thin shoulders as she lifted a slim hand as if to say, “Come back.” The skies roiled in an angry clash of the gods, commanding an equally dangerous sea. Gone were the normally placid waters; now they churned. The green jungle pressed at her back, supporting her, curling around her ankles in thin, searching root tendrils, anchoring her to the ground. Protecting her from anything that might try to rip her from the land.
Her face, slightly turned in profile, was lifted to the sky, as if daring it to bring its worst, or perhaps she was simply resigned to her fate yet not afraid.
By the time Lilah put the finishing touches on the painting, she was exhausted. Time had flown and darkness had begun to fall. She stepped away and surveyed her work as if seeing it for the first time. She was the lonely girl.
She always had been.
Only this time, she wasn’t going to walk into calm waters and hide. She was going to face the storm with courage, no matter how fierce the wind howled.
At least she hoped.
This was her chance to show everyone that she could handle big things. She wasn’t fragile or weak. She had to be strong for her baby.
* * *
JUSTIN WAS RIDING A HIGH. He’d just finished his first campaign tour and he’d acquired a taste for victory in the five months he’d been hitting every town and city within New York. He’d gathered a respectable following and he was hungry to win.
Hell, he had every expectation to win. And he wanted it.
“Son, I’m real proud of you,” his father said with a warm, approving smile that nearly shocked Justin out of his high. Over the past few months Justin and his father had slowly stopped snarling at each other, and what had started as fake smiles for the camera, had evolved into genuine respect and admiration as Justin had learned firsthand all the good work his father had done over the years while in office. The memory of all those missed birthdays and baseball games seemed to fade under the weight of the reason his father had been too busy for him. When he wasn’t so royally pissed off at the old man, he’d had the opportunity to see that his father was, in fact, a good man. Still, it was a shock to the system to have his father standing behind him with full support. Made him wonder how things might’ve been different between them if Justin had realized this fact much earlier in his life. Justin swallowed and accepted his well-earned beer from Rudy as his father did the same. They clinked beer bottles and his father said, “That was a singularly spectacular speech. If I wasn’t already voting for you, you’d definitely have my vote.”
“He’s got enough charisma to convince people that a useless swamp is prime real estate,” Rudy commented with open glee. “The people want to believe in him. It’s a good sign, I can tell you that.”
Pride shone in his father’s eyes. Justin had to admit, it felt good to be on the same side for once. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d been able to sit around enjoying a beer together like this. Hell, if ever.
“I knew you would be a natural, son,” he said. “The people already believe in you. First stop, the Senate, then...who knows?”
Justin laughed ruefully. “I don’t know about that, Dad. L
et me win this first and then we’ll see. But you know it’s easy to sell what you believe in. I never realized how important health care reform was until I took a tour of that children’s hospital. It’s ridiculous that fat-cat bureaucrats have full coverage when kids go without. I aim to push as many health care reforms as I can manage. I grew up with everything I ever needed. I never realized that for some people they have to make the choice between taking their child to the doctor and buying food for the week because they don’t have insurance and a trip to the doctor will cost an arm and a leg. Health care shouldn’t be a privilege,” he added quietly, still feeling the impact of the hospital visit. “If I’m ever able to do anything worth remembering, I hope it’s something that will help future generations and I can’t think of a better place to start than ensuring kids have access to quality health care.”
“It’s an excellent platform, but be judicious about it. We don’t want to alienate your campaign supporters who might be considered one of those ‘fat cats,’ as you called them,” Rudy warned.
“I’ll try,” he said, but that was the part about politics he didn’t like. The idea of kissing ass to gain favors rubbed him the wrong way. Still, he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. At the moment, he was doing well on his own, but he knew eventually he’d run up against that moral wall.
“Listen to Rudy, son. He knows his stuff,” his father advised with a final swig of his beer. “Passion is good but you have to temper that passion with reason or else you’ll lose all the ground you’ve gained. Well—” his father sighed and rubbed his hand over his stomach “—I’ll leave you to talk shop. I promised your mother dinner at her favorite restaurant,” he said with a heavy exhale, adding with chagrin, “Some fancy French place that will probably give me indigestion. The things I do for love. Good night, boys.”
“Night, Dad.”
“Evening, Vernon.”
After his father left, the discussion wandered across various topics until Rudy hoisted himself free from the chair and said, “So, you’ve earned yourself some R & R, what do you plan to do with yourself for the next two weeks?” His gaze was sharp and alert as he awaited Justin’s answer. It wasn’t only polite interest that spurred the question. For all intents and purposes, Rudy was his wrangler and it was his job to approve all of Justin’s adventures.
“Take a much-needed nap,” Justin quipped lightly before lifting his beer to his mouth. He swallowed and shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet.”
“Well, whatever you do, keep in mind you’re always in the voters’ line of sight. Keep your nose clean and stick to your mantra—”
“If I wouldn’t do it in plain sight of my mother, don’t do it,” Justin finished for him. Rudy smiled in approval. “I’m not that crazy playboy anymore. This campaign has really opened my eyes to a few things and I want to help become the change this city needs.”
“I love your idealism. It’s refreshing, even if a little naive. But no worries. Let’s get you into the Senate seat first and then go from there.”
Justin nodded and finished his beer. His thoughts drifted to Lilah and as always his heart sped up. He’d hoped distance and time would dull his obsession but there were nights all he did was clench his fists to keep from calling her at ridiculous hours of the night. Now he had two weeks to kill and the one person he should’ve forgotten about by now was the one person he couldn’t shake.
“So who’s in St. John?” Rudy asked casually, startling Justin with his keen-eyed question.
“What makes you ask that?”
“You’ve booked a plane ticket to St. John. Wasn’t that the place your father sent you to, to sow your wild oats as they used to say? Just wondered if there was anyone in particular you left behind.”
“Not really,” Justin answered as casually as possible. He didn’t want Rudy knowing about Lilah. Somehow he knew he wouldn’t approve and Justin would never subject Lilah to that kind of scrutiny. “But I found the place really relaxing. It’s quiet and the pace is slow. After the breakneck speed we’ve been traveling, I’m looking forward to a little peace and quiet in a place no one knows.”
“Sounds lovely. Maybe I’ll tag along?”
“No,” Justin said firmly. “I need a break. Even from you, Rudy.”
“Ah. I understand.” Rudy stood and collected their empty beer bottles. “Well, enjoy your two-week sabbatical. When you return we hit the trail hard. I also have a few ladies for you to consider for the fund-raiser dinner. It would look good to have a nice lady on your arm, someone with impeccable pedigree and possibly well-connected parents. Voters trust a man who is in a committed relationship. A bachelor is too loose of a cannon. Besides, tying in an engagement could be good press. Think about it.”
“Yeah, sure,” he said in a noncommittal manner. He really didn’t want to discuss his romantic life with Rudy. It felt wrong and fake, which it was. In his heart, he belonged to Lilah, which was a fatal flaw he knew, but he couldn’t help it.
By this time tomorrow he’d be walking into Larimar. It was for closure, he told himself. Closure that he needed to move on.
But a small voice in his heart was too busy singing to listen to the brain’s lies.
All that mattered was seeing Lilah one last time.
* * *
“YOU HAVE THE CUTEST BELLY I’ve ever seen,” Lora remarked wistfully as she gazed at Lilah when she crossed the lobby to double check if an art piece was still available for an internet order that came through this morning. “You hardly look pregnant at all.”
“Are you kidding me?” Lilah said, rubbing her round belly. “I’m huge. I’m already waddling. I can’t imagine what I’ll do when I’m nine months. I might have to get a wheelchair and have Heath push me around the resort.”
“He’d do it in a heartbeat,” Lora said wryly. “You’ve ignited baby fever in that man. Do you know how many times he’s asked if I’m ready to have kids?”
“What do you tell him?” Lilah asked, curious.
“I tell him not now. Not until I know Larimar is on firmer footing. I mean, we’ve been very lucky with our bookings but that’s not stable. We need something bigger, more reliable.”
“We’re in the tourist business. I don’t think anything will ever be stable. Maybe this is as good as it gets.”
“Don’t say that. I might cry.”
“It’ll be okay. We’re already doing better than we ever were before. Steady bookings, corporate retreats and internet commerce from the new site Heath had built... I’d say we’re doing much better than we dreamed.”
“We even have a little saved,” Lora admitted. “I guess I’m just paranoid. One crisis and we’d be wiped out again.”
“Don’t think like that. Think positive.”
Lora smiled. “Look at you all Miss Bright and Sunshiney today. No more morning sickness?”
Lilah laughed. “Not since the fourth month. I’m good, actually. Aside from my feet swelling at night. And the constant craving for watermelon at odd hours of the night. And the night sweats from the hormonal surges. Oh, and the weird hairs that sprang up out of nowhere on my stomach...yeah, I’m great.”
Lora made a face. “Now I definitely want to wait a bit longer to have kids.”
“It’s not that bad. Besides, I’ve just started really feeling the babies move and that’s pretty amazing.”
“What does it feel like?”
“Like little bubbles fluttering around in there. Or gas.”
“Here yah are, yah breakfast. Drink it all up. Those babies need their protein. All island girls eat lots of bananas...good for growing kids.”
“It’s a good thing I like bananas,” Lilah said, accepting the smoothie. “Otherwise, I’d be in big trouble with the sheer number of smoothies you’ve made for me to drink.”
Celly winked and walked back out of the room to check on Pops.
Since Celly had returned, Pops had settled down and was wandering less. It almost seemed normal, whatever normal was these days, and they’d slipped into a comforting routine.
Everything seemed calm and relaxed.
Except her mind at night.
She never stopped thinking about Justin.
Maybe it was because his babies were growing inside her—two perfect individuals who were an equal part of them each—and she wished he were there to share it with her. But each time she considered calling him, the words dried up on her tongue. What would she say to him? How would she explain? Would he believe her? Likely by this point he’d demand a paternity test. She wouldn’t blame him, but she’d be a liar if she didn’t admit that such a requirement would hurt.
As time wore on, her courage dwindled. And soon, her justification for keeping the knowledge of his impending fatherhood to herself was that he was better off not knowing.
Which was total crap and she knew it but she was too afraid to face what she knew was coming eventually.
She just had no idea when she woke up that morning that the moment would come so soon.
Something to Believe In Page 17
