by Mary Carter
“I think I have officially talked myself into a migraine,” Jake said. He rattled the pills in his bag. “I’m actually going to go home, take these, and lie down.” He started to walk away.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it. I just didn’t want to see her cry.”
“I didn’t even bring it up, Grace,” Jake said as he walked. “Because I wanted one minute where we actually felt like we were on vacation again.”
“Okay, okay. I do too. But I also don’t want us to hold things in.” Jake stopped abruptly, and Grace almost barreled into him.
“Now that’s rich,” he said. His face was set in anger. Grace really hated herself for thinking it, but he was so damn sexy when he was angry.
“We were in the cab, and she said she had no one, and she started crying—”
“Crocodile tears no doubt,” Jake said.
“How can you say that?” Jake started walking again. Grace had to speed up to keep pace with him. He knew she hated when he did this. She was five foot four; he was six foot two. Even his leisurely pace seemed like speed walking compared to hers. “You don’t even know her.”
Jake turned and waited for her to meet his eyes. “Exactly,” he said. He was calm again. Calm and reasonable. If she wasn’t careful it was going to make her furious. “This girl shows up after fifteen years. A girl you didn’t even tell me about.”
“We’re back to this?” They were outside now, past the arch. They stopped underneath a tree.
“Yes, we’re back to this. Think about it, Grace. What does that say about her that you wanted to pretend she didn’t even exist?”
“I never forgot she existed,” Grace said quietly. But she had tried.
“I no longer even want to know what happened back then. Believe me. Now that I’ve had a dose of her, I know it can’t be good.”
Without speaking they headed down La Rambla. The street performers were back in force. Grace wanted this to be a happy moment, when she and Jake could share in the wonder and discuss each one of them. Instead he walked straight ahead as if he saw nothing but red. The minute Grace had seen SBC on the invitation, she should have booked the next flight home.
“Jake, are you going to stop?” She had to say it again, but Jake finally stopped. “Thank you.” So much for telling him everything right now. And this probably wasn’t the time to point out that he was the one who had invited Carrie Ann to the Sagrada Família. He was right. They needed to get back to having a proper holiday. “Why don’t we shoot some video at the park like you said?”
“So where are we leaving this? Is she coming to Nashville with us?”
“I’m working on that. Right now she doesn’t want to be alone. But she’s also the type of woman who always has to have a man. I thought maybe we should let Jean Sebastian come dancing tonight.”
“No. Definitely not.”
“He travels for a living, Jake.”
“Good for him.”
“If he and Carrie Ann hit it off, they might just ride off into the sunset together.”
“And if they don’t?”
“Look. She was family. Once. What if I tell her I didn’t mean it and something horrible happens? I don’t think I could live with that.” Not again. Once was certainly enough for a lifetime.
“You’re going to have to tell your parents.”
“I realize this.” Jake looked off into the distance. “Are you mad at me?”
Jake looked at her. It only took a few seconds for his face to soften. He shook his head and then pulled her in to him and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed the top of her head. “You have a big heart; I have a big penis. Neither of us can help that.”
Grace laughed. Jake’s eyes sparkled. She kissed him. “Thank you.”
“For what? Having a big—”
“For everything. And if Carrie Ann does come to Nashville it won’t be for long. I promise.”
Jake touched her cheek. “Okay. But if I find out she’s been playing us—playing you—she’s gone. I promise that.”
“I’ll kick her out myself,” Grace said.
CHAPTER 19
Jake and Grace held hands as they walked around the Gothic Quarter. They tilted their heads back and stared up at the old cathedrals, posed with statues, and took in the fountain at Plaza Catalunya before strolling along Passeig de Gràcia. Finally they arrived at Parc de la Ciutadella in the Ribera district. Barcelona’s “Central Park” was an oasis in the middle of the city. A passerby told them the park contained a zoo, a lake, several museums, and a large fountain. The fountain, or as they learned, the Cascada, was easy to spot. Loosely based on the Trevi Fountain in Rome, it had both a raised and lowered part, each marked by their own statues, and a waterfall. The upper part boasted a triumphal arch, complete with a chariot and four horses. The lower portion was guarded by a large winged dragon. It was done in Baroque style, and the architects, Josep Fontserè and Elies Rogent, had been helped by a young student Gaudí. It was thrilling for Grace to see it in person after reading about it in her guidebook.
Grace loved statues. Every city should have them. Large winged dragons and rearing horses. Patches of green grass and flowering trees. They found the giant elephant statues, and Grace sat on the tusks as Jake filmed. Then she took the camera and filmed Jake on the tusks. At least with this cheap camera he wasn’t so afraid of her touching it, and he was way more relaxed. She loved the walkways and arches, and the palm trees that hung out in the periphery, offering shade to nearby benches. Jake and Grace went back to the fountain, where they recorded a video for her parents. Grace knew she sounded stiff again, and she was downright lying by not mentioning Carrie Ann, but this time Jake didn’t even try to direct, nor did he comment on her obvious omission. They were now partners in crime.
“Let’s get gelato and go back to the room,” Jake said, nuzzling her neck. It was starting to resemble the holiday they were meant to have.
The gelato did not disappoint. There were so many flavors and stands offering it in Barcelona, it might as well have been considered a national pastime. Back in the room, Grace and Jake eagerly fell into bed. Grace reached for him. He was as soft as the gelato. This was not like Jake.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“It’s okay.”
Jake removed her hand, sat up, ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m pretty stressed. It’s normal.”
Grace snuggled up and kissed his neck. “I don’t care about that. I just wish you weren’t stressed.”
“I just keep seeing her face.”
“Carrie Ann? Gee, thanks.” Grace pulled her knees up to her chest and scooted to the headboard. She wrapped her hands around her knees.
“Don’t cocoon on me. I didn’t mean it like that. If I meant it in a sexual way—don’t you think Mr. Rogers here would be standing at attention?”
“Mr. Rogers?” Despite herself, Grace burst out in laughter. “Is it a beautiful day in the neighborhood?”
“I don’t know why I called him that.”
“Should I buy him a sweater for Christmas?”
“All right, you.” Jake laughed. “No wonder he’s soft. Sorry, buddy. You’re not Mr. Rogers. You’re The Rock.”
I wish, Grace thought. It must be hard to be a guy. “I can’t believe she’s only been here a few days and she’s already ruining our sex life.”
“Ouch,” Jake said. “One incident and our entire sex life is ruined?”
“Of course not, sweetie. But Carrie Ann is the black cat of luck.”
“Don’t let her get to you.”
“My parents thought I was too easily manipulated by Carrie Ann,” Grace said. “She had—almost a kind of spell over me, I guess. In a way I thought my sole purpose in life was to be the one person who would love Carrie Ann no matter what.”
“I agree with your parents. That she’s a master manipulator.”
“But she’s also had a horrible life, Jake. You should have seen her the first day. Standing in our doorw
ay with her little flowered suitcase. Looking lost, and so alone, and yet tough at the same time. I’ll never forget that image.”
“But you guys took her in. Gave her a home.”
“We tried.”
“What happened?”
“Carrie Ann started to get jealous if I spent time with anyone else. Little by little I gave up my other friends. Quit swim class. Stopped pretty much everything but hanging out in my tree house with Carrie Ann. It really wasn’t healthy. Heck, she was even jealous of Brady.”
“Your cat?”
“Yes. I loved that cat.”
“I remember. Brady, you told me about.”
“Once Carrie Ann realized how much I loved Brady, she seemed to hate him. I think she was even glad when he died.”
“Ouch.”
“Anyway. It was just the two of us. Except for Stan.” Stan was always right there, but Grace usually filtered him out. She wasn’t proud of it, but it was almost as if Stan had become part of the scenery. Sometimes Grace thought that the only reason Carrie Ann had wanted him around was because Grace did not.
“Just don’t tell me you lost your virginity to Stan.” Jake got out of bed, picked up his boxers from the floor, and pulled them on. Then he crawled back in bed.
“What? No. God, no.” Grace shuddered at the thought. “A couple of days after Brady died—” An unpleasant image rose in her mind. Brady, lying on their front step, neck lolled to the side, eyes glassy and staring up at the sky. “Was when my mother—”
A loud clang reverberated through the room. It sounded like a thousand cymbals had come crashing down. It came from the direction of the window. Grace started. Jake sprang out of bed. “What the fuck?” He headed for the window. Grace scrambled out of bed, picked her sundress up off the floor, and hastily put it on. “Someone’s out there,” he said. “Jesus.” Grace caught a glimpse of a large, black wing. “Jesus. What is that?” The creature seemed to now be climbing up the trellis.
“The demented eagle from the street,” Grace said.
“Again?” Jake said. “He was out on the ledge yesterday too.” A window creaked from somewhere above them, and then a thud shook the chandelier in the kitchen. They looked to the ceiling. “Do you think he was trying to come in our window?”
“Oh my God,” Grace said. “It’s the hairy guy.” What did Stefano say his name was? “From the beach with Carrie Ann. The hairy guy is the demented eagle.”
“When did we see Carrie Ann at the beach?”
“I forgot to tell you. That woman who bumped into me, and I said she liked you and you said she liked me?”
“Carrie Ann?” Jake said.
“Yep.”
“And yet another thing you didn’t tell me.”
“I forgot. I swear. I just forgot.” Jake headed for the door. “You’re in your boxers,” Grace pointed out.
“He’s in an eagle costume,” Jake said.
“Good point,” Grace said. She scrambled after Jake, who was already halfway up the stairs. By the time Grace caught up, Jake was already knocking on Carrie Ann’s door. Rafael. That was it. “Rafael?” Grace called out. Jake looked at her.
“Stefano told me his name,” she said.
“Who’s Stefano?”
“The doorman who doesn’t open any doors.” Jake looked as if he wanted to hear more about it, but turned his attention back to the door. He put his ear against it slightly. All was quiet. Grace imagined Rafael standing still in the middle of his apartment, waiting them out.
“He stands like a statue for a living,” Grace whispered. “He’s going to win this game.”
“Say something else,” Jake said. He pressed his ear closer to the door.
“Rafael? It’s Grace. Carrie Ann’s friend? We’ve been wanting to meet you. Thank you for letting us stay here.” Grace paused. There was some shuffling from within the apartment.
“I thought we were going to confront him about breaking in,” Jake whispered.
“I think Carrie Ann put him up to this,” Grace whispered back. “You catch more flies with honey.”
“Probably. But who the hell wants to catch flies?” Grace gave Jake a look. He shrugged, then gestured for her to keep going. “Anyway, Carrie Ann said she wanted us all to go out for drinks and dinner and dancing tonight. So we just wanted to say hello.” More shuffling and definite sounds of footsteps coming toward the door. Grace pulled Jake back just in time for the door to swing open. Rafael stood in jeans and nothing else. Grace had never seen so much hair on anyone’s chest in her life. But it didn’t seem to bother him a bit. A long, black feather stuck to his bicep.
“Hola,” he said with a grin inappropriate for someone who had just been caught trying to sneak in through their window. “Did you say drinks and dancing?” He grinned, mimed taking a drink, and then gyrated his hips. The feather didn’t budge. “My club,” he said. “We go to my club.”
There was a line at Rafael’s dance club by the ocean. It was far away from La Rambla and totally secluded. Grace supposed that was ideal for a club; they could blast their music as loud as they wanted—no neighbors to complain. Rafael said he was part owner along with three other street performers. He said they had gone in on the investment in order to support the dream. Grace had thought that the street performing was what they were doing to reach the dream. Turned out it was the dream. There was something sad and beautiful about that.
From the looks of the crowd waiting to get in, the club was a good investment. It was a white squat building, winding around in a Z shape, with two levels and various dance rooms with the side facing the ocean wide-open. The sun was just starting to set. Carrie Ann had taken so long getting ready that when they headed out at ten p.m., they decided to skip dinner and go right to the drinking and dancing.
When Carrie Ann had heard about the change in plans, she had thrown a fit.
“Rafael’s club? You invited Rafael?”
Carrie Ann was at it again, acting dramatic. It was as if she were terrified of Rafael. “You invited Jean Sebastian,” Grace had said.
So far Grace had made a point of not looking at Jean Sebastian or talking to him beyond saying hello. He looked hot in his jeans and blue dress shirt. It was aqua, and it made his light brown eyes seem almost blue. “She brought him to cause trouble,” Jake whispered in Grace’s ear.
“Please,” Grace whispered back. “Let’s just have fun tonight.” They needed it. Who cared anymore what Carrie Ann did or didn’t do? They needed to let loose and just enjoy themselves. Grace was the last one up to the bouncer. He held out his hand for her ID while eyeing a younger girl in the line. Grace reached in her purse and handed him her license. He glanced at it, then glanced at Grace.
“Entre,” he said.
“Gracias,” Grace said. He frowned, and she quickly moved on. “Grassy-ass,” her dad had said before she left. Isn’t that what they all say in Spain?
The minute they were in the door, Carrie Ann grabbed Grace’s arm and squealed. “I knew it!” she said. “I told you!”
“What?” Grace said. The men immediately wanted to make their way to the bar. Jake touched Grace’s arm. They looked at each other, and she nodded. He was asking if she wanted her usual. She loved how well he knew her.
“Actually we should all get sangrias,” Rafael said. “The sangria is the bomb. It’s dance club–style, mis amigos—with a little zing.”
“I’m in,” Carrie Ann said. “I do like to zing.”
“Might as well try new things,” Grace said to Jake. He nodded and headed off with the boys. “You told me what?” Grace said the minute he was gone.
“That we could pass for each other. And you’re not even a blonde or wearing high heels.”
As usual, Grace had no idea what Carrie Ann was talking about. And, also as usual, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
“Take out your ID,” Carrie Ann said. They’d already been through this once, but Grace sighed and took out her driver’s license. She held it
out to Carrie Ann. “Look at it, silly.” Carrie Ann turned her hand around. Grace looked at the ID. It wasn’t hers. Grace read the name in disbelief. Carrie Ann Gilbert. Her blond hair, her smile.
“What?” Grace was flummoxed. She dug through her purse. She had showed the bouncer Carrie Ann’s ID? She remembered now, finding it in her purse with the diamond ring. But she had showed the bouncer the ID from her wallet, which should have been hers. “Where’s my ID?”
“I left it back in the apartment.” Carrie Ann grinned like she was expecting some kind of medal.
“You went in my purse?”
“I switched them right in front of you. I wanted to see if I could still do magic.”
“What else did you do?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Your hands were in my purse. Did you switch or take anything else?”
“It was a joke. Don’t be this way. I totally forgot I’d done it until I saw the bouncer asking for ID. But I was right. You got away with it.”
“Because bouncers don’t give a shit about ID—”
“Why are you so worked up? It was just a little joke.”
“The way you texted me from Jake’s phone the other day?”
“What?”
“He told me he was at your apartment. And we both received texts that we didn’t send.”
“I didn’t—”
“This is why people don’t trust you.”
“People? Or you?” Carrie Ann’s eyes were huge and lit with anger. Jake approached carrying two humongous sangrias. “Just in time,” Carrie Ann said, taking the glasses from him and offering one to Grace as if she were the one who had just purchased them.
“Thank you,” Grace said to Jake. Jean Sebastian and Rafael brought up the rear, each carrying two drinks.
“It’s a special,” Rafael said at their looks. “Two for price of one.”
“Let’s find a table,” Jean Sebastian said. They pushed through the writhing bodies and headed for the second story, where they commandeered a table that looked down onto the dance floor. It was just as crowded upstairs as it was on the dance floor, and there were only two seats available. The men all let Grace and Carrie Ann sit down. Carrie Ann twirled her straw in the drink, then looked at Jake.
