“Hey!” the man shouted again. “You gonna get off the car?”
Galvanized, Maria shoved away from the car and raced back to her father, who shrank back a little and watched her nervously. “Don’t do this, Daddy.”
“It’s for your own good, Sugar,” he said. “You need a little tough love.”
“It’s my car! You gave it to me!”
“The title’s in my name.”
“What’ll I drive?”
He shrugged and she wanted to slug him. “I don’t know. What can you afford on your salary at the firm?”
Maria roared with rage and wheeled away from Ellis, the instrument of all this torture. Apoplectic, she watched as the man drove the car onto the platform, got out and went back to the truck. Slowly the platform lifted, until her precious Jag was sitting on the truck bed like a seized drug dealer’s car on its way to auction.
She drew a deep breath, getting ready to shriek and yell, to throw a tantrum the likes of which her father had never seen, but before she could open her mouth, she became aware of a new sound—another car. Turning, she saw David pull up the driveway in his dark Audi sedan. He got out and surveyed the scene with a tight, dark expression. When his pitying gaze swung around to Maria, her humiliation was complete.
Divine grace, or something like it, descended upon her and suddenly she was in complete control. She would not throw a tantrum. She would not further embarrass herself in front of anyone—not her father, the stranger and especially not David. It was only a car. A car was not worth her dignity. She was bigger than this. She would figure something out.
Straightening, she squared her shoulders, held her head high, said a silent, heartfelt goodbye to her car and turned her back on it. Walking to the front door, she shot her father a final glare as she passed, and he winced. Then the knob was turning in her hand, and she was nearly home free.
There,she thought. That wasn’t so bad.
But then she heard the roar of the truck’s engine as it started back down the driveway, and horror lanced through her because she’d forgotten something critical. She spun around and tore after it on her four-inch heels, frantically waving her arms at the stupid driver, who either didn’t see or ignored her.
“Wait!” she screeched, willing to chase the truck to St. Louis if she needed to. “My iPod’s in there! It’s got all my Princeon it! Give me my iPod!”
David watched Maria rescue her iPod and then, without another word to anyone, raise her head high and march into the house with the dignity of Halle Berry sweeping across the stage to accept an Academy Award. When she’d quietly shut the door, he and Ellis exchanged glances. Ellis muttered something unintelligible, shook his head and opened the door after her. David climbed the few steps to the porch and followed him inside, too ambivalent to speak. Maria had already escaped upstairs to her room, and they heard the distant, gentle click of her door shutting. David felt a sickening lurch of disappointment to know she was gone.
Even worse, he felt sick at heart and he couldn’t figure out why.
Hadn’t he just witnessed a Kodak moment he’d waited years to see—Maria brought low, suffering and humiliated? Shouldn’t he be dancing with glee to see his plan fall so neatly into place? Less than forty-eight hours on the revenge job and already he’d played a major role in the loss of Maria’s luxury car. Now the pampered princess might well have to take the bus. What could be better? Why wasn’t he laughing his ass off?
Because nothing had changed, that’s why. All these years later and he still couldn’t stand to see Maria upset.
David trailed Ellis through the shadowy foyer and into the living room, where wonderful scents—meat loaf, maybe, and some sort of dessert with cinnamon in it—greeted them. On the other side of the swinging kitchen door, Miss Beverly sang absently and clanked pans as she finished getting dinner ready. They’d have a delicious meal soon, if he could work up an appetite. Lapsing into his thoughts, David tried to figure out exactly where and when his whole revenge plan had gone so horribly awry.
He’d come back to town as planned. Check. He’d confronted Maria, more or less kept his cool and hadn’t revealed how devastated he’d been when she’d married Harper. Check. He’d assigned her grunt work and tattled on her for being late, resulting in the loss of her car. Check and check. True, she’d outmaneuvered him on the whole Anastasia thing, but he’d recovered quickly and delivered a swift punishment when he gave her that godawful office and promoted her in front of Shelley. All in all, he’d had a pretty successful day on the revenge-o-meter.
So why hadn’t the yawning emptiness in the center of his chest gotten any better? Why did he now feel worse than he had when he’d first gotten back? Why couldn’t he get hold of his feelings for Maria?
David collapsed on the sofa and loosened his tie while Ellis went straight to the drink cart in the corner. In a minute he was back and, without a word, passed a tumbler of whiskey to David. David raised his glass in a silent salute, took a generous swallow and waited for the liquor to take the edge off his tension.
Nothing happened.
One of his biggest problems, and he had a lot of problems where Maria was concerned, was that he’d either forgotten or underestimated how powerful his attraction to her was. As he’d told Ellis, she certainly hadn’t gotten any uglier, nor did she smell any worse than she ever had. To tell the truth, Maria was morethan he’d thought, morethan he remembered—more beautiful, more sexy, more exciting and, worst of all, more heart-wrenching. David felt as if the old Maria was an image he’d watched on his flat-screen TV, but the current Maria was a thrilling 3-D movie in IMAX, surrounding him on all sides and taking up all of his senses.
How was he supposed to deal with that?
Now was not a great time for introspection, what with the whiskey and all, but if he looked deeper than the physical attraction, he had to admit that she’d grown and matured, and he liked that, too. She was strong and proud now, and clever. For the moment she was down, but she wasn’t out. Far from it. He could hardly wait to see how she regrouped and dealt with the car issue.
Damn it, he did not want to see her as a person. He did not want to feel sorry for her. He would not take it easy on her. Revenge was the reason he was here, and he wouldn’t forget it.
Below the surface, his anger simmered, hotter than ever. She owedhim. Didn’t she know that? Owed him the courtesy of an explanation about why she married Harper when she’d professed undying love for David. Owed him an apology for ripping his guts out and sinking her sharp little canines into them, and then moving on with her life just as sweet as you please. Owed him the satisfaction of a reaction—some outward sign that he affected her one millionth as much as she affected him, and that she remembered the incinerating passion they’d felt in each other’s arms. Every time he provoked her and she didn’t respond, every time he needled her and she stared at him with those aloof brown eyes, every time he needed her and she didn’t need him, he felt another little piece of himself shrivel and die, another little bit of his emotions become unglued.
Maria was under his skin and in his blood, infecting him. Ruining him. Killing him. Was he supposed to remain sane under these conditions? Be a productive member of society?
Turning to Ellis, who now sat beside him on the sofa and looked a little shell-shocked, David opened his mouth to tell him he’d done the right thing by selling the car. So it was with surprise that he heard himself say, “Selling the car was a little harsh, wasn’t it, Ellis?”
“No,” Ellis said flatly. “Maria is damn near twenty-eight years old. She needs to stand on her own two feet and learn how to make her own way in the world. Andshe needs a serious attitude adjustment, and we’re just the men to give it to her.” He eyed David over the rim of his glass. “If you weren’t still so hung up on her, you’d see that.”
The statement was so unexpected, devastating and accurate that David couldn’t pull it together enough to issue a decent denial. Slamming his glass on the tabl
e, he shot to his feet, shoved his fists in his pockets and stalked over to glare out the French doors at the pool.
“I am nothung up on Maria,” he cried, “and I don’t know where you’d get a ridiculous idea like—”
Ellis’s voice dropped. “If you want Maria back—”
“I don’t.”
“—then get her back,” Ellis said, vibrating with urgency.
A sudden fury blinded David. It was one thing to try to deal with Maria, and his screwed-up feelings for Maria, but he wasn’t prepared to defend himself to Maria’s father. Ellis’s grave, concerned expression lit a match and set off David’s firecracker temper with an audible explosion. Agitated, he slammed both palms on the antique desk in the corner as he stalked by it. A little blue-and-white candy dish jumped dangerously, but didn’t topple.
“And why would I do that, Ellis?” David snarled. “So she can ruin my life for a second time?”
Ellis stared, unruffled, at him. “I know Maria’s got some flaws—”
“Gee, you think?”
“—but if she had it to do all over again—”
David couldn’t take it. He just couldn’t listen to this crap for another second.
“If she had it to do all over again?”he roared, incredulous. “Well, no one’s ever bothered to tell me why she did it in the first place! I guess the money was pretty good, huh?”
“Why would she marry George for his money, when she’s got her own?”
“How the hell should I know? Isn’t that what you rich people do? Keep all the money in the family?”
“It wasn’t the money.”
“Then why’d she do it?”
“You’ll have to ask her—”
“Wonderful!”
“But I may as well confess right now that part of the reason I wanted you to take over the firm for me was because I hoped you and Maria could work things out.”
David snorted with disgust. He should’ve known. A man like Ellis never did anything without a hundred ulterior motives. “I don’t like being manipulated, Ellis,” he barked. “Don’t do it again.”
A seething silence followed, during which Miss Beverly, who was no doubt listening intently at the kitchen door, didn’t so much as rattle a pan.
“Yell at me all you want, son,” Ellis said after a while, his expression kindly now. “But you’ve wanted my daughter for four years. You can either work through your anger and have her back, or you can have your anger keep you company while you want her for the next four years.” He paused. “It’s up to you.”
Anger. His faithful companion lo these many years, wasn’t it? Exhausted suddenly, David collapsed in the nearest chair and stared off across the room, seeing nothing and remembering everything. Another night, another conversation with Ellis, and the first time he let his anger at Maria take root in his soul.
Chapter 9
Chapter 9
It was a Friday night at the beginning of December four years ago. Though he had finals in a couple of weeks, he’d packed an overnight bag, hopped a plane from Philly and jumped in a cab to the Johnson estate the second the plane landed. Having made up his mind, he couldn’t think of any reason to wait another second to see Maria.
Maybe he should have called first, but calling would’ve wasted valuable time and he needed to get to her. He hadn’t laid eyes on her since he’d gone back to school in mid-August, and the separation had just about done him in. Nor had he called or e-mailed her, and he’d have some serious explaining to do about that, he knew, especially since their goodbye scene had been so excruciating. Hell, at this late date, he should probably skip the explaining and go straight to begging, and that was fine. They’d had a cooling-off period, so maybe some of her upset had faded by now. If not, he’d give her more time. Whatever it took to see those bright brown eyes and that smile again, he could do.
Leaning back against the cab’s cheap vinyl seats, he closed his eyes and let the feelings he’d bottled up for months wash over him. He was going back to where he belonged, which was with Maria, and he was so damn happy and excited he thought he might just inflate like a helium balloon and drift across the Ohio River without ever needing a bridge. Soon—very soon—he’d see Maria again, and he was the luckiest bastard who’d ever lived.
He’d woken up this morning in his cramped apartment and seen the world with new eyes. The thought of taking exams and going into the holiday season, and, hell, living another hour without Maria in his life, was suddenly inconceivable. What on earth had he been thinking, leaving her like that? That they were both too young to be in a serious relationship? That he was too poor to have a pot to piss in and needed to finish school before he could afford—or deserve—a woman like Maria? That Maria would ultimately walk out on him the way his mother had walked out on his father?
Ridiculous excuses, all of them.
The truth was, Maria scared him. His feelings for Maria scared him, and so did the desperate clawing need he had for her. So he’d run. Simple as that. He’d finished his summer in Cincinnati and run back to Philly to try to resume life as he’d known it, as it’d been pre-Maria.
As if he could.
Four months of misery had followed. Four months of not caring about studying, eating or anything else. Four months of picking up the phone, dialing her number and putting the phone down again. Four months of composing stupid, awkward e-mails, then deleting them. He, a grown man who had survived a childhood of poverty and the explosion of his parents’ relationship, was paralyzed with one bottomless fear after another: fear of commitment; fear of being in a serious relationship that distracted him from studying and working his way to a better life; fear of being unable to afford a woman like Maria. And there were worse fears, like his fear of the power Maria had over him, even if she didn’t realize she had it—the power to make his heart leap with her deep-throated laugh, the power to command his body with a smoldering look, the power to deprive his life of sunshine by her absence.
For four months he’d hidden behind all those fears with a wall of silence. As if that could protect him from Maria. What an idiotic little coward he’d been.
Until this morning, when he’d woken, from both his sleep and from the brainwashing he’d given himself.No more, he’d decided. No more running, no more hiding, no more fear.
He needed Maria, and he would find a way for them to be together. Period.
So he’d leaped out of bed, prayed the credit card company wouldn’t decline his maxed-out card when he made his plane reservation and caught his adviser between classes. Talked to him about transferring to the University of Cincinnati, Northern Kentucky University, or some other local college to finish his master’s. The adviser was dismayed and disappointed, but so what? So David wouldn’t have an advanced degree from an Ivy League school, after all. Big freaking deal. He’d have Maria instead, and what could be better?
The cab pulled as close as it could get to the Johnson estate, which was about half a mile away. Parked luxury cars marched up and down the dark, narrow, tree-lined street, and uniformed valets ran back and forth, dodging in and out of traffic.
Wow, David thought. Richie Rich must be having a blowout.
Only after he paid the cabbie and walked down the street did David see the massive white tent sprawling behind Ellis’s house and realize that Ellis was the host with the most.
What was going on?
He followed a man in a tux and a woman in a floor-length gown up the driveway and around the back to the tent, from which came the sounds of a chattering, laughing crowd and a jazz combo playing one of his favorite Natalie Cole songs,Everlasting Love. It dawned on him for the first time that maybe he was a little underdressed, and he spared a quick glance down at his jeans and leather jacket. Ah, well. It didn’t matter. Later, he and Maria would laugh about it.
But some hostess or something standing at a podium in front of the entrance to the tent frowned when he didn’t have an invitation to show her, even though she’d just let
in the couple right in front of him.
“It’s okay,” he said, giving her his most winning smile, which was easy to do because he knew Maria was inside that tent and would soon be in his arms. “I’m a friend of the family.”
She smiled coolly and indicated he should wait right there for her, but he couldn’t wait any longer. The second she went inside, he darted in behind her and entered a world for which he was not prepared. His stomach lurched, introducing shock and unease into his giddy happiness, as though he’d found a brussels sprout in the middle of his vanilla ice-cream cone.
He’d seen parties like these on that old TV show, “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous,” but never in real life. Ellis had money, sure, but this wasmoney. It was a surprise, and not a pleasant one, to discover that Maria’s family was wealthy enough to host a black-tie, sit-down dinner for several hundred of their closest friends. That said dinner could be held in a heated tent erected, in part,over the swimming pool. That they could afford glittering chandeliers—yes, chandeliers—in the tent, along with beautiful covered chairs and tablecloths and what looked like enough flowers for every man, woman and child in America.
David gaped, lingering just inside the tent flap near a bar, looking all around as though he were a five-year-old stepping through the gate and into Disney World for the first time. At a quick glance he saw the jazz combo, the dozens of uniformed servers, the champagne, the crystal, the seated guests enjoying—he squinted his eyes to get a better view—lamb chops.
Where was Maria? She was here, somewhere. He could feel it.
“David.”
Turning, David saw Ellis walking toward him, a white-linen napkin clutched in his hand and a grim expression on his face. He did not look particularly happy to see David, which was disconcerting since they’d gotten along so well all summer. Still, Ellis extended his hand and David shook it, smiling with relief to see a familiar face among this massive crowd.
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