“Was it a relationship? Sorry. I’m probably overstepping now.”
“No, I don’t mind telling you things,” he said, the words sounding equally strange and true. “I had a relationship for three years, and yes, we did break up. I don’t think either of us saw it as a ‘forever’ kind of thing.” While he wouldn’t have admitted it at the time, there was always something missing with Danni. He’d met her at a silent auction he’d been invited to by his clients the Cortlandt brothers—actually, in the hallway between the restrooms at a silent auction when she camerushing in with a baseball cap shoved down over half her face and a black duffel bag slung over her shoulder. She’d almost knocked him over before asking if he knew where the Jade Room was. She’d almost knocked him over again when she emerged thirty minutes later wearing a low-cut gown showing off the premier auction item of the night, a $4 million necklace set with a sugarloaf cabochon Kashmir sapphire. Then there was that killer smile she’d blasted his way as she took a turn around the room among the bidders. One of the brothers had practically insisted that he go talk to her.Why not?he’d thought. Later he’d wonder if he would have tried to meet Danni at all were it not for Lawrence Cortlandt and his very large portfolio of encouragement.
When they were heading out to some chic restaurant or fabulous party, which they always were at first, she was happy. But when he started to suggest cozy nights at his place or a lazy Sunday with no plans at all, she’d get moody and irritable like she was being punished. After a while, he couldn’t keep up. He didn’t want to. And Danni found more and more ways to be busy and booked. One afternoon, Andrea showed up to one of her photo shoots to surprise her and saw how she came alive in front of the cameras. It was as if she fed off the admiration, becoming a creature who would be truly suffocated by a quiet evening at home. She eventually broke up with him to be with a filmmaker who’d won the Founders Award at the Tribeca Film Festival that year. It made sense, but he still felt like it was another example of how he’d failed to live up to his duty as the NYC cool guy he was supposed to be. “But that wasn’t ultimately the reason why I left.”
He was quiet for a moment, aware that he was coming close to revealing more about himself than he had in a long time. He could easily say something likeWe should get backand go home and make some toast and have a shower and wake up tomorrow like it was nothing. He could pretend like the pink sky wasn’t playing tricks with his head, making him see everything as perfect and possible just because Lora sat there watching it all with him. But where would that get him? Safe? Comfortable? Alone.
“I left because when I came back here to visit, I was overwhelmed with the needs of this place. I was concerned about my family, and as much as Italians love to complain about everything here, and I’m no different, I love this place. Look at this,” he said, waving his arm at the horizon. “I could not leave this to die. Maybe that’s dramatic. For me, it felt that serious.”
“It makes sense,” she said. A strand of hair had blown across her lips, and she reached up to pull it away. He’d almost had the instinct to do it himself, but if he touched her face, there was no way he wouldn’t run his thumb over her cheek and bring her mouth to his. “You were able to find purpose here, and I’m sure your family is happy that you are back.”
“Not really,” he said, running his fingers through the sand between them, keeping his hands busy. “My family loves me, but they want me to go back to America. They think I’m crazy to do this. I know I made a lot of money and lived in New York and went to the beautiful places and met the beautiful people, but was it better? I don’t know.”
“I guess it depends on what you want. Not everyone needs the same things. It’s OK to admit that,” she said, her eyes settling on his. “Is this what you want?”
He paused, allowing himself to fall into her gaze a moment longer, knowing he could easily get lost there for a long, long time.
“I think so,” he finally said, sure that this was something else he’d never said out loud before. He’d lost track of how many times he’d asked himself the same thing and refused to acknowledge his own answer. Every time he had some disappointment, he’d console himself by saying it didn’t matter. It would be the next mayor’s problem. Still, he kept pushing, kept believing, kept trying. And he was changing things. He could see it. But now he couldn’t deny that the town was changing him too. “I think I chose this a long time ago. I just haven’t quite been clear about my intentions. So, most people still think I am out of my mind.”
“If it makes you feel any better, most people think I am crazy for wanting to do a postdoc too. Especially since I’m a little older than your average recent graduate. But I’m not doing it for them. It’s probably harder for you to tell your family that you don’t care what they think. I didn’t have to worry about that. My mom died when I was twenty, and the interesting thing about people who are dying is that they are never going to tell you tonotdo whatever the hell you want.”
“You think she would have encouraged you to come here?”
“I’m not sure, actually. There’s a lot about my mom that I am not sure of.” Lora dipped her hand into the sand next to his and mimicked his combing fingers. She looked down,seeming to concentrate on the movements. “I think she made choices even when it seemed that she didn’t have many.”
“You’re pretty amazing, do you know that?” Andrea said, touching the side of his hand to hers. “It takes a lot of courage to do what you’re doing.”
“Thanks,” she said, finally looking up at him. “I appreciate that.” She rolled her palm into his, both coated with cool sand.
“I’m really happy to know you, even if it’s only a couple of weeks. I have the feeling I’m not going to forget you.”
“Sure,” she said, laughing, nudging his shoulder with hers. “Until the next person like me comes along looking for documents.”
“I don’t think anyone like you is coming around here,” he said, feeling the blood pound in his ears. “Not anytime soon.” He felt like his body was being pulled toward her and couldn’t remember wanting to kiss someone so badly. He leaned a millimeter closer to her, closer to those eyes that had pulled him in from the first day he met her, then leaned back. He didn’t want to overwhelm her. She was here to manage a task, not to get involved with anyone. He should stop right now before they made a mistake. He should—
She leaned toward him, her eyes on his. He could not help but meet her now, closing the space between them. He brushed his lips over hers, thinking he could still save himself. It could still be friendly, like a kiss goodbye a few weeks early. But she opened her mouth just enough to take friendly to fiery, and so he did the only thing he could do. He gave in. Bringing his hand up to her cheek, he deepened the kiss, melting into the softness of her lips and the last heat of the sun. He felthigh, in flight. And he swore to whatever divine being was listening that he was perfectly fine with having just one of these with Lora if it meant that there were kisses like this to be had at all. Because. It. Was. Fucking. Awesome.
A group of small fishing boats cruised past the beach, likely heading back into the marina for the night, and the buzz of their engines broke the spell. Lora pulled away, shielding her eyes from the sun again as she watched them cruise by. “It’s probably getting late,” she said, a hint of disappointment in her voice.
Andrea looked down at his watch, now fully back down to reality. They only had another hour or so of good light to get back, but there was one more thing he wanted to show her.
“Kind of. We should get back out there, because there’s one more thing I thought maybe you’d like to see.”
It took them under ten minutes to continue along the coast, and soon Andrea could see the low buildings set back from the shore in the trees. Tall grasses and overgrown bushes made it difficult to see the wooden fence that surrounded the property, but he could still see the white gravel that used to line the paddock.
“What is this?” she asked, her inflection sharp, like she already knew the answer.
“It’s Ivo’s place. I told you that all of the important tourist locations were out here. This is one of them.”
“And you thought I would like to see.”
“Maybe?” It was a mistake; that was clear from the tone of her voice. He had thought it would be interesting, a curiosity maybe. But he couldn’t have been more wrong.
“OK, well, I’ve seen it,” she said, her jaw tight. “Anythingelse?” She did not turn around, did not let him see her face, but he’d been around her long enough to know the light had gone out of it.
“No, let’s turn back here. We’ll come around to the right,” he clarified, pushing back on the left blade to help spin the boat around. They paddled on in silence, while he tried out new sentences in his head, hoping to find one that might restart what had stopped dead between them as soon as Ivo’s farm came into view. Everything he came up with sounded hollow, though the feeling of the kiss was still full on his lips. They made it back to shore with the orange sun dipping into the sea behind them, and though they both turned back to see the last burst of the day, she turned away before he did. Finally, when the kayak was on the roof of the Panda and their sandy feet brushed off, he had no choice but to bring her back to the piazza.
“Thank you for the cruise,” she said, her smile tight. She grasped the handles of her bag and opened the passenger door.
