by LeCoeur, Ami
I remembered that morning. I’d walked into the kitchen to find Maria crying. The butterfly was dead, an orange and black puddle at the bottom of the jar. Its body was swollen, and its wings were tiny and shriveled. I cried too. We'd placed it in a little tin Mama had given us. Then we'd taken it outside to bury it under the tree where we’d first found it, complete with our own little funeral service. When Maria whispered, “I’m sorry,” I took it to mean she was sorry it had died, or even that we'd put it into a glass jar instead of leaving it to hatch where we'd found it. We were both sad that day.
“I killed it with kindness, Angela,” Maria confessed. “The butterfly needed the stress, the pressure of the chrysalis to force the fluid from its body and into its wings. Because I decided to help it, that didn’t happen.”
She rolled closer to me and took my hand. “I don’t want to be like that butterfly. Stop protecting me, let me live my life the way it’s supposed to be lived. The good and the bad. The pressure and the pleasure.”
I leaned down, put my arms around her and whispered in her ear. “I will. I promise.”
I didn’t want her to shrivel up, I wanted her to fly. I was glad she'd decided to come out of her chrysalis. It was about time. She didn't need my help, but there was a lot I could do to support her in spreading her wings.
I thought about the secrets I was keeping from her, the things I didn’t want her to know about, yet. Or maybe ever. After what she'd just told me, I might have felt guilty. But I didn't. I had looked at the circumstances and chosen my path. I had made my own decisions, and I didn't regret them. I just hoped I would have as much courage in facing my own future as she had shown in facing hers.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
ANGELA
“I’ll get it,” I said when the doorbell rang. The past few days had made me feel like I was constantly balancing on a tight rope, so after work I'd gone out for a quick jog. I'd just gotten back, my mind feeling clearer and my body more centered and relaxed from the exercise. I flung my face towel over my shoulder, took a sip from my water bottle, and reached for the door.
“Hello, Angela." I stepped back, almost dropping the water bottle. The last thing I expected to see was Antonio standing in my doorway.
So much for the mind-clearing run. Just the sight of this man caused a million thoughts to jumble up inside my head again. The one that finally came to my lips had more than just a hint of sarcasm.
“Antonio. To what do I owe this great honor?”
I saw the shadow pass across his face. And then, I felt slightly guilty. But only slightly.
“Nice to see you, Angela." He recovered more quickly than I did. "I’m sorry to just barge in without calling first. I came to fulfill my obligation. I believe we have some arrangements to complete.”
“Oh,” I said “Arrangements? I—I’m sorry, I—“
We stood there awkwardly for a moment longer, staring at each other. Just the sight of him left me speechless and senseless. He was so close I could hardly breathe, let alone think. And there were so many things unsaid, all pushing to come out.
“It’s all right,” he said quietly. “I understand. I want you to know I understand how much your sister means to you, how much you’ve… sacrificed for her. I'm prepared to make good on our arrangement.”
Oh. That arrangement. My eyes went wide and I shook my head in panic. “No, wait. Maria, she doesn’t—“
“Who is it, Angela?” Maria said from the kitchen.
I jerked my head around. Thank goodness she was in the other room. I looked back at Antonio, finally remembering my manners. I stepped away from the door, gesturing for him to come in.
"Please don't say anything," I whispered as he walked past me.
I caught the faint scent of sandalwood. The cologne I’d chosen for him at the perfume factory. Almost involuntarily, I took a deep whiff. Once again, memories from the cruise came spiraling back. I shut my eyes, willing myself to be strong, not knowing how I could deal with him in our house. Especially if he was being nice to me.
Standing there, I realized I probably didn’t smell nearly as nice as he did. And the house! I glanced around the living room and wrinkled my nose. Not too bad, but not really "company" ready.
I had planned to do some housework after today's run. Especially since Maria’s art had expanded into the living room, and the box of Dad’s stuff was still on the coffee table. At least I’d put the photos back into the envelope, but I was still mortified to have the always well-put-together Antonio Mancini visit my house when it was less than perfect. Considering the gorgeous mansion he lived in, I was embarrassed to have him inside my house at all.
Especially since he held the mortgage.
“Angela, introduce me to our guest,” said Maria, joining us in the living room. She gave me a ‘pull yourself together’ look and I responded with a helpless shrug.
“Maria, this is my boss, Antonio Mancini. Antonio, my sister, Maria."
"Oh, Mr. Mancini, so nice to finally meet you.” Maria wheeled her chair forward, extending her hand. Antonio grasped it warmly, raising it to his lips in a respectful, cosmopolitan gesture.
Maria did her best not to blush.
“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked, gracious as always, gesturing for him to sit.
Antonio made himself comfortable on the couch. I hesitated, then decided to sit across from him in Mama’s old armchair. But first I moved Dad's box of belongings off the table and onto the floor.
Unconsciously, I tucked a finger into a little hole Dad had accidentally burned in the chair with a cigarette when he was moving the furniture around. It was a little silly I suppose, but I found strength in the memories buried in this chair. Strength I needed so I could face Antonio, who was watching me with those dark, beautiful eyes, the ones that threatened to melt me with the sensations and memories they evoked.
“No, thank you,” he said to Maria. “Please. I won’t take up much of your time, ladies. I promise to get straight to business.”
The man did know how to get to the point. But, I also remembered how much time he'd spent doing "business" over the gambling table. I squirmed a little in the chair, wondering which it might be this time.
Then I sighed. Well. I'm sure Naomi "needs" his attention. He glanced over at the sigh, his face inscrutable as it examined mine.
I pushed the catty thought out of my head, suddenly worried about what he might say to Maria.
He finally released me from his gaze and turned toward my sister. “I'm actually here to talk with you. Just before the cruise you had an accident. I know that must have been difficult for you. But Angela tells me there is also an experimental surgery that could be beneficial, that could make a significant difference?"
I watched his face as he spoke to Maria. I was pleased to see how gentle he was with her.
He let his voice trail off, and I began to relax a little.
Maria turned from Antonio to look at me. “I—Yes, I mean. My doctor—Doctor Quesh. He said there was a chance I might eventually walk again, but we…” she looked over at me and I could see a mix of curiosity and cautious hope in her eyes.
“I understand the surgery is very expensive and that money may have been an issue,” Antonio said, leaning back against the couch.
"Well, it was—at least until Angela went to work for you," Maria smiled over at me, but I wanted to hide in the cushions. “And well, it's experimental. That usually means expensive, especially since it hasn't been tried very often. That would put it outside of most people’s budget I’d expect.”
Antonio nodded. "Yes. That’s pretty much my understanding as well."
I watched the two of them, talking with each other like they were old friends. I had felt so tongue-tied with this man, yet here she was, laughing and talking, and very nearly flirting with him. He certainly had a way with women. And, apparently, she had a way with men. I found myself marveling at my sister, as I continued to see her with new eyes.
"Oh," she laughed as the flush rose up her cheeks. "I do love it and used to paint a great deal. But, it's been a while since I did anything serious."
"Who says art needs to be serious? Entertainment has its value, too."
Maria flashed him the most amazing smile. "And it can be a joy to create, too! Little Emily has been the inspiration for my recent sketches and simple paintings. She tells the most delightful stories, and I do my best to capture them as images."
"Would it be too forward of me to ask you to show me some? I'd love to see what you've been doing with her stories." Antonio's face held genuine interest.
So much for getting right to business. I wasn't sure where this was headed, but he didn't seem to be any hurry.
Maria was delighted. “Are you serious? It would be my pleasure.”
"Good." He nodded solemnly and I breathed a little sigh of relief, continuing to be amazed at how easily the two of them got along. She wheeled over to the corner as he stood and followed.
I left the two of them talking and laughing, and I slipped into the bathroom to clean up a little. When I looked at my face in the mirror, I had to shake my head. My hair was tied up in a ponytail, and I wasn't wearing a stitch of make-up. And, oh my god, there were sweat rings under my arms. Terrific.
I decided to take a chance, and jumped into the shower for a quick rinse, hoping they would be occupied for several minutes. I'm not sure it made a lot of difference to my looks, but it made me feel better and at least I no longer smelled like sweat.
I changed quickly into clean shorts and a t-shirt top, slipping into my sandals and hurrying back out to the living room. The two of them were deep in conversation, and hadn't even noticed that I'd been gone.
"What was your favorite thing to paint before this?" Antonio handed back the sketchpad to Maria.
"Oh, I used to do a lot of landscapes," she said. "That's why I made Ange take her camera on the cruise. I figured she could supply me with some new ideas."
Antonio looked over at me. "She's good at coming up with new ideas."
My cheeks must have flushed a bright red since my temperature went up at least ten degrees. I shook my head at him, wanting to forestall anything else he might have to say in front of Maria.
Maria laughed. "Would you like to see what she sent me?"
"Actually, yes. She promised to share them with me, but I'm still waiting." He turned toward me. "So now's as good a time as any. Unless Angela has an objection?"
“No, not at all,” I shook my head. "It's okay. Maria, where did you put that set of prints?"
"Here," she said, rummaging through a drawer in her desk. "They're in an envelope. Ah." She handed the photos to Antonio. "Let's go over to the couch, there's more room."
Antonio spread the photos out on the coffee table. The story of our cruise, the progression of our "relationship". Our companions onboard the ship. The tours, my adventure on the volcano island.
"Nice." Antonio studied the photos, smiling at some and staring intently at others.
What I really wanted was to have Antonio out of our house. Instead, here I was, sitting next to him on the couch, looking through photographs from a trip that had turned my life upside down. A trip I was trying so hard to forget.
I did my best to slow down my racing heart and ignore the man who was responsible for it, the man sitting right there beside me. So close, I could just reach a hand out and touch him as he flicked through the images on the table. Images of sunsets, dolphins, the beautiful people of the islands.
Maria chattered on about my photographic skills as the three of us looked through the prints. Antonio nodded his agreement.
"Did Angela tell you about our upcoming trip?" He smiled at me. A warm, encompassing smile.
"The twins and Europe? She mentioned it, but I'm still waiting to hear the details."
"There's nothing to tell, yet," I said. "Their manager hasn't shared their schedule with me."
"And, we still need to discuss the shots before we can finalize anything." His eyes challenged me. This man continued to confuse me beyond words. Acting as if nothing personal had ever happened between us. And that everything business-related was normal and nothing had changed.
When Maria got to images of the passengers on the ship, he shifted suddenly, leaning forward.
“Wait a moment,” he said, his face growing intense. He flipped through several of the photos and then turned to me. “These are really incredible pictures, Angela. Would you mind if I take some of them? Can you get another set made?”
I stared at him for a moment, trying to read what was going on in his mind, what was behind those dark eyes. Something had changed, his eyes were bright, his body tense.
"Sure, no problem," I told him. "We have all the digital images stored on disk."
He scooped up a handful of the photos—mostly pictures of folks onboard ship and a few of my tourist shots. But my breath caught in my throat when I noticed he also pocketed one of us, taken by the waiter that last night at dinner. That was one of my favorites. We looked like the perfect couple.
I stuffed back my emotions, willing myself to remain calm. "Perfect Couple"—that's what the young woman had said that one day as we returned to the ship. That wonderful day. Right, like I need to be reminded of that now.
“I won’t take up any more of your time, ladies,” Antonio said, suddenly anxious to leave. “but before I go, I want to say that your artwork is beautiful, Miss Tilson.”
“Oh,” Maria said, and this time she did blush as she wheeled her chair around to join him when he stood to leave. “Thank you. It’s nothing really.”
“Nonsense, you are both very talented women. Incidentally,” he said, turning to me, “I didn't get a chance to give you the good news. The insurance company has approved Maria's surgery. She'll be getting a call from the surgeon's office to set everything up.” He looked down at her. “They'll contact you directly, not through our HR department."
“My surgery?” Maria's face paled and then blossomed with color. “Oh! I—Oh my. Surgery? Really? I don’t know what to say!” Maria made an odd sound—some kind of cross between a squeal and a gasp.
Antonio squeezed her hand. “I wanted to bring the news myself. Because it's experimental and outside of our normal coverage, we had to wait until the physician's group had given our insurance company the necessary information so they could make a determination. Dr. Quesh should be contacting you within a week or so.”
“Oh my goodness,” she cried, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks now as she lowered her cheek against his hand, held firmly in her own. “Thank you so much!” She sniffed and then added, “I can't begin to tell you what this means to me.”
I smiled, despite the lump that was securely lodged in my throat. He patted her shoulder with his free hand, then leaned down to give her a hug. That was my cue. I stood up and stepped over to them, putting a hand on Maria’s shoulder.
“Thank you,” I said to Antonio, standing in front of the two of them. I was no Human Resources expert, but I was pretty sure the "special approval" came from him rather than some "physician's group" or insurance company. Whatever else stood between us, this meant the world to me, and my gratitude was genuine.
He gave me a small smile, little more than a crinkle of the eyes and then stepped away to give Maria and me a private moment.
“Excuse me,” he said, fishing his cellphone from inside his suit jacket. He moved over to the door for what little privacy our bungalow could offer.
I sank to my knees and hugged my sister, letting her happy tears soak my t-shirt until, sniffling and catching her breath, she let me go with a nod.
I smiled, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. I stood up and walked over to Antonio. I was grateful he hadn't shared the truth with Maria, and I wanted to thank him. He was still on the phone, so I stood in his line of sight, but I kept my distance so I wouldn't in
terrupt his conversation.
“That’s about it, Brad,” he said, glancing over toward me. “I think we’ve got exactly what we need. It should be pretty easy from here on in.”
Brad? The District Attorney, Brad Stephens? What did he mean? What could Antonio now have that was "exactly" what they needed? It obviously had something to do with my photos. Something that made it "easy" for them? All of a sudden, I was consumed with worry, again. Just which side of the fence was this man playing on? Somehow I managed to keep my mouth shut as he turned to Maria.
“Miss Tilson, thank you, again, for your hospitality." Then he turned back to me, his eyes strangely excited, almost feverish. Suddenly, he leaned forward, pulling my head toward his and kissing me fully on the lips. The unexpected sweetness of the kiss literally sent shocks of electricity through my body, even as my mind screamed a warning that I chose to ignore. I reached up, my fingers grazing his cheek. He drew back sharply, the delighted look shifting as his expression shadowed almost instantly.
“Forgive me, Angela. I just—thank you for… your excellent photographs,” he said quickly, holding up the envelope as he turned for the front door. He glanced back once, just the tiniest turn of his head, then he turned the knob and was gone.
I watched through the curtained window as he walked down the front steps, my heart pounding erratically in my chest, and my lips still tingling from the explosion of sensation his kiss had awakened in me. I sucked in a shaky breath and then let it out. What in the world just happened?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
ANTONIO
I couldn't sit still. I paced back and forth, waiting for the phone call to come in.
Pacing and thinking. I couldn't get Angela out of my mind. It had taken more than simple restraint to stop myself from grabbing her yesterday when she opened the door. That skimpy little tank top and the towel around her shoulders was almost as sexy as the gowns she'd worn to those first few events.
