One Long Kiss

by Susan Ward

  “Hello, Linda.”

  He calmly sips his drink. Not a flicker of surprise at seeing me. Damn him, he maneuvered this and wanted me here. I don’t know why, but I am furious.

  “How dare you manipulate me to come here?”

  No reaction. None.

  “Was Len part of this farce to trick me here?” I snap.

  Another drag of his cigarette. Another sip of his drink. It takes every ounce of control for me not to lunge across the room and hit him.

  “Len is genuinely concerned,” he says. “Me, I need your help.”

  Fuck you, Alan Manzone.

  “Did it ever occur to you to pick up the phone like a normal human being and ask for my help?”

  He arches a brow. “You wouldn’t have come if I called. You care but you don’t want to and you sure as hell don’t want to show it.”

  I tense. I’d forgotten how easily he can read people. And he’s right. If he’d asked I wouldn’t have come. I’d have told him to go to hell.

  “What is it you want?”

  “That hideous friend of yours is becoming a problem.”

  Oh crap. I stare at him in disbelief. “You made me cross an ocean because Jeanette is being difficult?” I roll my eyes. “You picked her, you asshole. Now you deal with her. I’m getting the hell out of here.”

  “Please, don’t go.”

  Something in his voice stops me.

  “She won’t take the money, Linda,” he says desperately, his eyes impassioned. “She won’t listen to reason. She won’t settle. She wants me to marry her and she is taking me to court knowing I can’t let that happen.”

  I frown. Crap, why does Alan’s drama always play out like a nineteenth century British novel?

  “Take you to court for what?” I ask.

  A long pause, and the color darkens in his eyes. “She’s pregnant.” His gaze lifts from me as he focuses on stomping out his cigarette. “We were together one time. Only that one time, Linda. And she claims she’s pregnant and it’s mine.”

  The earth falls away from beneath me.

  “What do you expect me to do about it?”

  His gaze shifts back to mine.

  “Fix it,” he says fiercely. “Get her to take the money. Get her to go away.”

  I laugh. “You think I have influence over Jeanette?” My laughter grows stronger. “I’m sorry, Manny. You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to get me here and I can’t do a fucking thing for you.”

  His gaze holds mine and the way he’s staring at me has the unpardonable ability to soften my heart.

  “I’m not asking you to do anything but talk to her,” he says. “You talking to her might get her to see reason.”

  I laugh again. Yeah, right. Jeanette and I have only been marginal friends in our best of times.

  “Will you do it?” he asks.

  I stare at a vacant spot in the room. His nerve. How dare he ask me to do this? It should be a slam dunk. No. No. And hell no. In disappointment, I realize I’m considering it.

  I shift my gaze back to him. “I don’t know if it will help. I don’t know if I will do it. But I do know if you don’t answer my questions truthfully I walk out that door and never come back. And you can wallow in whatever disaster you are so afraid will happen if the world knows who you really are.”

  “I’ve never lied to you about anything, Linda.”

  Damn him. Why do I believe him? And why does my anger toward him continue to wane when I don’t want it to? I see him, and it all slowly melts away. Damn him.

  I stay carefully standing near the door of the hotel room.

  “What was I to you?” I ask.

  Alan’s black eyes burn into me. “Nothing. You were the girl who walked out on Jackson Parker. And I wanted to fuck you because of that. That’s how it started with me.” His expression soften. “Later, it was something quite different.”

  “Aha.”

  I take a moment to collect my rioting emotions. In control again, I say, “And what was Jeanette to you?”

  He lights another cigarette and stares at me through the smoke for a moment. “Nothing. Just something to do.”

  “God, you are an asshole, Alan Manzone.”

  He arches a brow. “Not exactly something I haven’t heard before. I was expecting something more original from you, Linda.”

  I take just enough steps into the room to sink down on the couch. A part of me wants to run as far away from him as I can. A part of me wants to smack him. And a part of me feels sorry for him. He’s not even twenty yet. How the hell does a guy get so fucked up so young?

  “Let me set you straight on a few things, Alan. You are a fucking train wreck waiting to happen every minute of your life. Even I can’t keep that from happening. Sandy hired me to fix and handle you. Well, it can’t be done. You’re a train wreck in process and I should get the hell out of here before you take me down with you.”

  The look in his eyes takes on a subtle glow. Crap, even as much as I hate him after what he did to me I can feel him running through my veins.

  “Then handle me, Linda,” he whispers. “You’ll get no more shit from me. None. Just don’t let me crash.”

  “Why should I?” I snap, not at all sure what it is he’s suggesting. “I should let you self-destruct and put everyone out of their misery. Why should I help you?”

  He leans forward, elbows on knees. “Because I trust you. And I care for you.”

  Not the answer I expected.

  “I despise you,” I say, though deep down inside I know that isn’t true.

  The smile that rises to his face is alluring and terrifying at once. “Good. It will make us better friends.”

  “How awful your life must be,” I hiss scathingly. “To be able to have anything you want. For all women to adore you. And yet you despise us all.”

  The way he is staring at me makes me start to shiver.

  “No woman adores me. They want my body, or my money. The rest of me, they couldn’t give a fuck about.”

  I’m about to leave the room when the expression in his eyes changes into something I’ve never seen before, burning shards of wistfulness, pain and despondency.

  “I don’t despise women,” he adds softly. “Jeanette I despise. You I care for, Linda. You I would marry.”

  My heart jumps against my chest and I know the words I heard, but I can’t believe he actually said them.

  I swallow down the lump in my throat. “I would never marry you.”

  He arches a brow. Strange, he looks both sad and amused. “And you will never marry Jackson Parker either. So why don’t you stay, fix my problem, go back on the road with us, marry Len, love Jack, and be good to me?”

  Thirteen

  Two years later

  I sit in the backseat of the limo wedged between Alan and Len, and I can’t stop laughing. We’ve been on an amazing ride for over two years, and while we may not have started out completely liking each other, we’ve molded into something akin to a family.

  The regrets I have—many—have lost their edge with time. I still think of Jack. I miss him every day, the smile in his eyes, the sound of his voice, but I stay away. I’m not ready yet to see him again. I’m not sure what would happen if I did. Time has not erased my loving him. And I don’t want to discover if it has for Jack. It would make the things I had to do too painful to know we ended without him loving me.

  Alan drapes his arm around my shoulder and puts a sloppy kiss on me. He’s in a particularly good mood today, affectionate and silly. But then again, why shouldn’t he be? In under two years he’s become an international superstar.

  I push him off me. “Go away, ugly. I don’t like you in the least today.”

  He looks amused. “You should have married me instead of Len.”

  I arch a brow. “I wouldn’t have you. Remember?”

  Len sets the bottle of JD back into the car bar. “Are you sure you want us to drop you back at the apartment, love? Why don’t you come with us?
CBGBs, a few drinks, a few laughs. Some music. You love a good party, Linda, and everyone will be there.”

  I smile at Len. “I’m tired. Besides. You two jerkoffs will have more fun without me.”

  They both laugh and I stare out the window at the brightly lit streets. I never expected to become a permanent east coaster, but every member of the band now lives in Manhattan instead of the UK. Alan moved first and the rest followed. Pretty much sums up our lives these days. We follow Alan and it’s been a hell of a wild ride.

  The car rolls to a stop in front of our Central Park West high-rise condo. I drop a fast kiss on Len’s cheek.

  I point a finger back and forth between the two of them. “Behave. No getting in trouble tonight. I’m not bailing you out of jail or anywhere else tonight.”

  Len smiles. “We’ll be perfect gentlemen, I promise.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’d settle for gentlemen. Perfect is a definite stretch.”

  Alan climbs out of the car and I follow him.

  He studies my face. “Are you sure you’re OK, Linda?”

  I look at him, startled, and I wonder what he can see on my face. It’s October again and I have my October blues, only this time I thought I was hiding it well.

  “Of course. I’m fine.”

  His answering smile is kind and sympathetic. Alan has become a good friend. The kid is a giver to the core. Once you get to know him you realize he is only an asshole on the surface. Part of the show. Part of his act. Part of the role he plays to protect his heart since he still has severe trust issues. Maybe someday he’ll find someone to love. It just wasn’t me and never could be. I love Jack, and Alan would have never settled for second slot in any woman’s heart. It’s better that I married Len.

  He puts a fast kiss on my cheek and climbs back into the car. The door slams and I watch them drive off. Something holds me on the street, staring at the road, and then I get the sensation of being watched. I rapidly search the sidewalks, the road, and my heart drops to the ground.

  Brilliant blue eyes are fixed on me. I knew Jack was staying the month in his New York apartment. But I never expected to see him. Not here. Not tonight, and my instantly roiling emotions warn that I’m not ready for this yet.

  My breath catches as he crosses the street. My heart quickens wondering if he’ll take me in his arms, but he stops in front of me, close but not touching.

  “Hello, lovely Linda.”

  A lump rises in my throat. “Hello, Jack.”

  Inside my head I roll my eyes at myself. Hello, Jack? Really? It would have been nice to have something eloquent to say, but I feel in complete disarray.

  “You look well,” he says.

  “So do you.”

  I feel the strain between us, a caution that lends to awkwardness, and I hate it.

  He looks at the building. “How long have you lived here?”

  “Nearly a year.”

  Jack laughs. “Four blocks apart. Your apartment and mine. And we haven’t run into each other before. My jaw dropped when I saw you climbing from the car.”

  I hate the careful words. Bullshit, Jack. You were waiting for me. This is not a chance encounter. I don’t know how I know this, only that I am certain of it.

  “Would you like to come up?” I ask.

  I see indecision flitter in his eyes. He arranged this, but isn’t certain he should have. I don’t wait for him to answer. I step toward the entrance and the doorman pulls back the door.

  Inside, we wait for the elevator. Both of us are silent on the long ride up to my floor. There is only us and the attendant but it makes the interior of the elevator feel smotheringly small.

  Jack rakes a hand through his golden waves and I see it again. His uncertainty if he should have followed me inside the building. I am uncertain as well because I can feel it, after two years, here in this tiny space, inside me and all around me.

  The want. The love. The need. As it has always been since that October we first met; today, another October, after two years of being apart.

  I unlock my door, drop my clutch on the entry table and flip on the lights.

  I gesture Jack into the high-ceilinged, open space living room.

  “Would you like some coffee?” I ask.

  Jack smiles. “No. I’ll only stay a few minutes.”

  I sink down on the arm of a chair as Jack settles on the couch.

  He looks at me. “Are you doing well?”

  I nod. “Very well.”

  “And Len. Are you happy? Does he treat you well?”

  I battle back the rising tears. “He’s a good guy. A friend. We get along well together.”

  Some sort of internal struggle breaks through the wall of Jack’s reserve and onto his face. “Why did you leave, Linda? Don’t you think you owe me an explanation? Why leave and marry him?”

  My heart stills. “The reasons don’t matter. Not now, Jack. Leave it alone. In the past. That’s what I need.”

  Yearning and pain fills his eyes. “The reasons matter to me. I’ve tried to forget you. Not to love you. I’m still in love with you, Linda.”

  I stare at a vacant space in the room. I can’t meet his eyes any longer. I change the subject. “How’s Chrissie?”

  He leans forward on his seat. “Well. Nearly thirteen. I didn’t come here to discuss Chrissie.”

  “Why did you come here?”

  There’s a long pause, the kind he makes when he’s searching for words and working to steady his emotions.

  I shift my gaze to meet his, and I can see it in his eyes. It is wonderful and terrifying and so much more than I deserve after what I did to him.

  “I love you, Linda.”

  He says it simply, but it’s not a simple statement. It is full of meanings and offerings and desires.

  I can’t stop myself. I can’t hold myself back from him. I cross the room, settling in the space between his legs and let him pull me into his arms.

  “I still love you. I never stopped, Jack. Where we are now has nothing to do with whether I love you or not. You are the love of my life and you always will be.”

  He tilts my chin and gently kisses my lips. Our love is here with us, as it had been, and I know without a doubt we’ve begun again.

  ***Author’s note: The epilogue is a bonus chapter for readers reading The Half Shell Series with The Affair without End Series. I hope you enjoy.”

  Epilogue

  April 1989

  I step off the porch into the New York April sun and cross the driveway. I don’t know what happens after we all leave The Farm. It’s not my worry. I have my own life with Len Rowan, but I’m worried anyway.

  I push from my thoughts the events and years that brought me to be married to Len Rowan, still traveling with Blackpoll, still loving Jack, and somehow in rural New York with Alan Manzone as he romances Chrissie Parker.

  Well, Manny’s version of romance. Too intense. Too fast. A touch sweet, him totally vulnerable and out of his depth, and more than a little fucked up. But with her, for first time in his life in a sincere and heartfelt way, he has fallen in love with a girl. The fucker is in love with her. Jeez, I’m not even half prepared to deal with that one.

  Nope, not today. This situation is a universal clusterfuck of emotion. It strikes every nerve in my body. Me. Jack. Chrissie. Alan. And even Len.

  I stop when I reach Alan. I know my eyes are flashing, but Chrissie isn’t out of the house yet so there is no need to hide my feelings from anyone.

  “I fucking should hate you right now,” I say quietly, angry that my voice is more betraying and rough than I want it to be. “How could you have an affair with Jack’s Chrissie? She’s barely eighteen. She’s still only a girl. How could you do this after all Jack has done for you? After all I’ve done for you. How could you hurt us both this way? If you are fucking with her, you’re fucking with me, and I won’t ever forgive you for that, Manny.”

  Those black eyes begin to burn. Boo. I’m not afraid of you, Alan Man
zone, and I’m not backing down from this.

  I meet him stare for stare. His features grow less harsh and then he pulls me into his chest and encircles me with his arms. I hate that I want the hug. And I hate that he gave it. And I hate that I can’t find a way to stop caring about him.

  “I’m not fucking with Chrissie,” he whispers into my hair. “I knew it this first time I saw her. There isn’t anyone else on this earth for me. I love her. She loves me. She’s the first person in my life to ever love me for only me. I would never hurt her, Linda.” I hear him exhale a ragged breath. “Only person other than you to ever love me. She is the most important thing in the world to me now.”

  Damn him for saying that.

  “I hate you for this. Don’t try to charm me. Jack is going to be furious with me when he finds out I was here at The Farm with you both and I didn’t call him.”

  “It’s not your fault. Jack won’t be angry with you. Me—that’s a different situation. I’m pretty much fucked.”

  I laugh. Christ, how can he make me laugh at this moment? “Good. You deserve nothing short than an ass kicking for this. Really, Manny. Jack’s girl. He’s going to go berserk over this.”

  “I’m going to marry her, Linda.”

  I step back, startled, and stare up at his face. This is not bullshit. He means it.

  “Jack can get as angry as he wants,” Alan says firmly. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not letting Chrissie go.”

  I feel almost sad for him. An internal instinct born of a decade of loving Jack and living Chrissie’s life vicariously warns me that what Alan wants is not what Alan will get. Nothing in the world of the Parkers ever works out so simply.

  I see the sun flash off my wedding ring. My marrying Len. Loving Jack. Nothing works out simply.

  The front door makes a loud squeak as it slams. I whirl to find Chrissie crossing the porch. Poor love, she looks like she’s been crying. Christ, how could I not have recognized her the first moment I saw her? Jack’s girl. She looks just like him. She is just like him.