The Summer of Us: A Romance Anthology

by AJ Matthews

  “I thought you guys kind of. . . ” Liah’s voice trailed off.

  “What?” Cami asked, skeptical of her friend’s wide-eyed, hopeful gaze.

  “Worked things out. . . After the Sid date.”

  “We talked,” Cami admitted. “It was all kind of a disaster, Liah. I’m not sure talking to Marcus helped, but . . ” she heaved a sigh, not willing to share what Therese had revealed. “I’ll admit, I’m not as angry as I was, though I still don’t understand his behavior, nor do I trust him. I know you like Marcus. He’s generally regarded as a nice guy. Even Therese says Marcus is a great guy. She married and divorced him, so she’d know.”

  “She would know. I work for him, so I know, too. Things going well at the barn?” Liah asked.

  “They are, and I’m not inclined to do anything to mess with that. There’s so much water over the dam, Liah, and now that I work for Therese and Anton . . I need you to let me put the past behind me. It wouldn’t be a good idea for Marcus and I to be friends.”

  Because you can’t keep your clothes on around him, of course, the little voice inside her head said, and that would be very messy, since you’re working for his ex-wife.

  “He still cares about you Cami,” Liah said quietly. “And neither of you are dating anyone else.”

  “Because we’re both busy with our careers,” Cami stated firmly, secretly glad for the information. She’d never admit to Liah that she was glad Marcus wasn’t dating someone else, pleased that he spent evenings in his seductive man cave over the restaurant alone, maybe even pining for her. . .

  “I just think. . I know I’m prying, Cami,” Aliah admitted. “But I still think you guys should talk.”

  “Yeah, I don’t see that happening,” Cami told her, grabbing her bag and heading for the door. “Have fun at lunch today, Liah, and thanks for the invite.”

  “I’m bringing home leftovers!” Aliah called. “I bet you’ll eat his cooking.”

  “You do that!” Cami fired back. “I probably will!”

  Illuminati Tuesday

  “pulled in so many different directions”

  The weekly meetings Anton requested took place over dinner at B’s restaurant of choice. B had great taste in restaurants, so Cami could hardly complain, she was still a bit on edge in Anton Valdezzi’s presence. Besides being very important, imposing and filthy rich, Anton was good-looking and incredibly intelligent, with the most adept social skills of anyone Cami had ever met; she was still certain she’d do something incredibly stupid in front of him. She was learning a lot about business management, gaining confidence, too.

  He was her boss, Cami figured; maybe it was okay that he scared her.

  “It’s Miguel’s tonight!” B called as Cami walked into the barn, sucking the last bit of kale and cucumber slop from the to-go cup.

  “I don’t know, B. Don’t you want some time just the two of you? I don’t want to impose,” Cami teased. “Now that you are the bookeeper here, and your dad handles the purse strings. .”

  “Pleeeeze don’t ditch me for dinner,” B begged. “Dad doesn’t play such a heavy when you’re around, Cami. And if this year goes really well, I’m hoping he’ll let me ride competitively next year, enroll at Stanford instead of Vassar.”

  “Your dad can be a heavy?” Cami joked, not able to imagine having to face Anton for a scolding.

  “Hah, you picked up on that?” B asked, wrinkling her nose.

  B had already finished haying. As Cami helped her measure the grain and supplements into buckets in the feed room, she said,“Don’t complain about your dad, B. He keeps you on the straight and narrow, I sure wouldn’t want that to be my job!”

  “What about your dad? Is he strict, or easygoing?”

  “My dad cut out when I was three,” Cami answered. “Mom worked full-time and then some to support us. When I was little, Sam was my babysitter. He was six years older than me, always a complete geek, but he did take me places. Aliah was around, even then, so I guess it’s fair to say he took us both places.”

  “Wow,” B breathed. “How did you get started with horses?”

  “Mom switched jobs, so we moved from Oakland to Petaluma when I was eight. There was a hunter barn nearby. I rode my bike there.”

  B nodded her head. “Dad would approve. He likes initiative. And he really likes you, Cami. Are you sure you don’t want to date him?” she asked hopefully. “Dad was there the first time Mom put me up on a pony, when I was three. He understands the horse thing, I promise.”

  Anton really did intimidate her, though she’d never admit that to B. Besides, when it came to messing with boundaries, Cami’d learned her lesson at Greystone. “Your dad is really great, B, impressive in so many ways, and charming, too. But everything is finally going really well for me here. I’d never risk screwing that up.”

  “Yeah, I get it,” B said philosophically. “Falling in love does mess things up. He and my mom still aren’t really talking, and they divorced when I was nine. Anyway, Dad ought to be able to find his own dates. Women hit on him all the time.”

  “Really?” Cami asked, a little mortified. “Like, right in front of you?”

  “Well, they don’t pull their shirts off and flash him, but they do flirt. It’s so obvious. I mean, I can tell they want him,” B said, totally unfazed. “He says he’s not ready, he has to concentrate on his businesses and raising me. I think that’s because he had to dump a girlfriend early on. She was jealous of his time with me, and he doesn’t want to have to choose.”

  “Wow, B, that’s really pretty generous and amazing on your Dad’s part, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe. But I also think that’s why he’s grouchy.”

  “Could be.”

  They met Anton at the corner of the square promptly at 6:45, just outside Miguel’s.

  “Hello, ladies,” Anton said, setting his big hand on B’s shoulder, smiling at Cami, who’d run home to shower and change.

  “Hi, Dad!” B said. “I had a great day at work today! How about you?”

  “Just fine, darling.”

  From his height of six-three, Anton beamed at B, who looked so cute in her dusty breeches and boots, her trim pink polo shirt streaked with a bit of alfalfa green horse snot that Cami felt like an intruder. It had been like this for her in high school, feeling like a third wheel around her friend’s doting dads.

  Anton held the door for them. Once seated, B tried to order a glass of wine, and Anton just laughed. Cami ordered a virgin margarita, B chimed that she wanted one, too, and movement at the bar caught Cami’s eye.

  Marcus?

  Seated at the bar, eating dinner, he’d caught sight of her reflection in the mirror long before she’d seen him.

  Their eyes locked.

  Sheer longing crossed Marcus’s face, and Cami’s whole world dropped away.

  Time stopped, suspended.

  Somehow naked in the his presence, an awareness moved through Cami.

  Marcus loved her, more now than ever, maybe; the only thing really important was this moment, them.

  It took sheer force of will for Cami to pull her eyes away, shift her attention back to to Anton, who had asked B a question.

  The corner of her vision stayed trained to the mirror, though, and she was aware of Marcus inclining on his stool, his eyes roving over her dining companions.

  Anton was next to her, B on the other side.

  Marcus turned on his stool then. Their eyes met, and after a single glance of shocked recognition, his face altered, became blank, emotionless.

  Head down, Marcus spun back around, focused on his meal, obviously hurt.

  He thinks I’m with Anton, that this is a date.

  Marcus didn’t linger; he was gone before their appetizers came, lifting a hand to Anton, flashing Cami a quick, contained smile as he shoved his wallet in the pocket of his jeans and left through the big glass mullioned door.

  Later, after she’d said goodnight to Anton and B, Cami crossed the s
quare, heading straight for the imposing rock exterior of Sauvignon.

  What am I doing?

  The percussive little clip clip of her kitten heels tapped granite as she climbed the wide steps, echoing, announcing her presence, making her feel more self conscious than she already was. Facing the giant, wooden door, she seized the big brass handle in both hands, and pulled.

  What am I doing?

  Liah was behind the elegant, antique walnut bar which formed a giant L in the marble tiled foyer. “Cami?”

  “Hi, Liah. Can I have some. . ” Cami looked around, as if realizing where she was for the first time. Gazing at her friend wide-eyed, stunned by whatever delusions had overtaken her, she gasped, “. . Wine?”

  Liah’s lips curled; it was late, most of the other diners had been seated, just a single, well dressed elderly couple waited at a banquette. “I’ll happily pour you some wine, sweets.”

  “I thought so.”

  “Would you like to see a wine list?”

  “You choose,” Cami said.

  Liah eyed her sympathetically. “It’s nice to see you here, Cam,” she said softly, taking up a decanter of red, pouring Cami a glass. “You look fantastic.”

  “Thanks. I had dinner with Anton and B, over at Miguel’s. I figured I should show up dressed.”

  “This is a 1996 Bordeaux,” Liah said, setting a giant tasting globe in front of her. “Tangy, but full-bodied, with oak undertones and a blackberry finish.”

  Cami sniffed the wine’s nose, then took a sip. “I like it.”

  Liah smiled. “I thought you would.”

  Cami tensed as she heard Marcus’s long-strided footfalls; he entered the room, ready to greet the last couple to be seated, then stopped short. “Cami?”

  “Hi, Marcus.”

  Recovering quickly, he approached, kissing her cheeks. His huge hand touched her upper arm, searing her with fire. “I’m glad to see you here, babe.” His whisper caressed her ear. “Stick around?”

  “I’ll be here,” she offered, forcing a smile, trying for light-hearted.

  Ushering the well-dressed, middle aged couple away, Marcus eyes met hers.

  His gaze was hot.

  You really thought you’d get out of here with your panties intact, Camilla-Louise?

  With a smile for Cami, Liah left to attend her table’s wines, so when Marcus came back, it was just the two of them. Though he said nothing, his eyes spoke, friendly but measured, without a trace of the longing she’d seen in the mirror at Miguel’s. Pouring himself a whiskey, he eased onto the leather topped high back chair next to her. “I’m glad you’re here, Cami.”

  Nodding, flashing a quick smile, Cami swallowed wine, glad of the sensation, anything to take her mind from what she had come to do.

  Marcus cleared his throat. Voice hesitant, he asked, “Are you, ah, dating Anton Valdezzi, Cami?”

  “I work for Anton Valdezzi,” Cami said, “And Therese. They bought my barn.”

  “Oh-Liah didn’t mention that.”

  “I asked her not to.”

  “Because. . ?”

  “Because it surprised me that a business offer came from your ex-wife. I didn’t want you to know about it. I didn’t want to complicate things further, for any of us.”

  “You’re close to B?”

  “I am. She’s been working for me for months now. She’s a great kid.”

  “She is a great kid. I could see how much she likes you. I . . I guess I miss her.”

  Cami felt raw, abraded, vulnerable.“I imagine you do.” She sucked in a breath. “Look, this probably isn’t the best place to talk, or the best time, but I wanted to give you the chance to explain what you wanted to, that night I was here. I’m tired of feeling. . resentful. Used. Angry.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  This careful, measured concern? It was what had first attracted to her to Marcus, beyond his obviously amazing good looks. It still surprised her, how Marcus could project such incredible confidence, yet retain that sense of humility, of respect.

  It had only added to her shock, when she realized she’d been jilted.

  Cami and Therese weren’t exactly friends; Therese was her employer, but they’d become friendly, and Therese had said Marcus had married her as a favor.

  Cami needed to know more, needed to have clarity, no matter how painful it might be, because what not knowing was costing her now, what it had cost her, was her self-respect, her peace of mind, and then some.

  And maybe it was costing her Marcus.

  Maybe it was costing them both.

  “Therese had cancer, Cami,” Marcus said, voice low, staring at his whiskey glass. Running his fingers over the glass’s crystal facets, he continued, “And I knew. . I knew she wanted to be married, so I. . ” His eyes glanced to Cami, so soulful, so concerned about the further pain he might be inflicting. “Let me go back, further, before you and I, Cami. Therese and I had been friends since my earest childhood. She’d been in love with my eldest brother for . . many years. And he married someone else, possibly not his first choice, I don’t know. It was a strategic union; her family’s growing fields abut those owned by my family, in France. My brother’s wife became pregnant, right away, and Therese was devastated. Then her diagnosis came. She was so afraid. And so was I. I knew she’d need someone to be with her through the very worst, even it it meant. . .” his voice grew very quiet. “I knew marrying Therese meant I might have to bury her, Cami. I couldn’t let her down. She’d been there for me, shared so much of my life.. . . I’m the fifth of six sons, there isn’t much for me in France, not really. . Therese brought me to the States, Cami. . .I. . ”

  His voice trailed off, as what he’d said registered on Cami’s face.

  “Therese had cancer?” Cami breathed, still caught on the first fact, the reason Marcus had left her.

  “Yes,” he said, nodding, looking at her, blue eyes ashamed, so full of remorse.

  The raw edges of Cami’s heart adjusted; righting itself, her shattered heart began to coalesce. As the magnitude, the generousity, of what he’d done sunk in, Cami realized how it must have been for Marcus, painful, maybe to leave her, but the meaning of what he’d done for Therese. . . The madness of the past few years ebbed.

  Cami finally felt able to be whole again.

  It finally all made sense.

  It would have been terrible, for anyone to have to endure something like that alone, and Cami truly liked Therese.

  “We married hastily, after her surgery, before she started chemo,” Marcus explained, forging into what had to be very painful memories, for Cami’s sake. “Supposedly on our honeymoon in France, we were hiding in Texas, close to her doctors, when her hair started falling out. From the day she revealed her diagnosis, I . . I had to be with her through it, Cami. She had no one else that could be. No one else that was. . a friend. The way I was. To help her. . if it came to the very worst.”

  Cami met his deep blue eyes head on. “I would hope I’d have the courage to do the same, if I were in your shoes, Marcus. Therese is a delicate person, and so wonderfully generous. It wouldn’t have been right, for her to have to be. . alone.”

  “Thank you for that, Camilla.” Still, his eyes were tormented. He swallowed, barely breathing. “She needed me, but I kept thinking of you. I was so torn, Cami. And . . ashamed. I-I felt like half a man, for what I’d done to you. I knew I should have explained, so that you could understood, before it was too late, but I didn’t realize - I was sworn to secrecy, and it was all happening so quickly. It wasn’t until Therese was in remission, out of the worst danger, that I saw it all, the harm I’d caused you, and. . ”

  “I wish you would have explained,” Cami said, but the heat, her anger, was gone. “It would have saved me a lot of pain.”

  “I wasn’t. . certain what I meant to you. By the time I’d figured it out, it was too late. Forgive me Cami, but by then I was a married man by the time I realized I’d acted in haste, twice, both times jeap
ordizing your trust, risking any confidence you could have in me. I’d been your teacher, our association was already unseemly. I felt. . unworthy.”

  As she listened, Cami watched her fingertips lift the giant globe, still half full of wine, twirl it on it’s side, watch as light from the cozy bar caught, reflected in the claret.

  She was buying time, she knew, but she needed time, time to collect the thoughts swirling in her head, the ache of her heart.

  Then, her words came.

  “I’m glad you’ve realized what. . what you meant to me.”

  Why was it so easy, now, to admit?

  “I know. Can you forgive me?”

  “I. . don’t know about forgiving you, Marcus. It was a painful time for me, and so confusing. I guess I can say. . I understand. You were in a difficult place, with tough choices. It must have been tough to put it all in perspective, to know what to do, when you were being pulled in so many different directions. I can see that. I understand that.”

  Marcus eyes closed, and he grasped Cami’s hand, turned it over, opened his eyes, kissed her wrist. “Thank you, Cami. I’ve needed you to fully understand for such a long time.”

  The pressure of his lips, the heat, the intensity, reverberated up Cami’s arm. The significance of the moment, all her questions answered, finally.

  And there was more, too.

  Her trust in Marcus could be restored.

  Not in his judgement, but in his good intent, in his decency.

  “I think I can like you again,” she said simply.

  Marcus caught her hand, squeezed it tight. His eyes grabbed hers, sending shocks of such. . recognition deep into her core.“You have no idea what that means to me. Thank you, for finally hearing me, for your compassion,” he said, blue eyes never leaving hers. “Can we talk again, Cami?”

  “I don’t. . . know.” It was all she could promise.