Dare to Dream (4 page)

Chapter 6

R
achel pulled up to the main house of The Port, an imposing white structure, reminiscent of mansions in the old South, complete with pillars, a wraparound balcony and an enclosed porch all embraced by towering willows that swayed gently in the light breeze off the water.

“Impressive,” Rachel said, easing the car to a stop.

“Very nice.” Desiree opened her door and stepped out. She looked around and immediately felt a sense of ease and tranquility move through her.

Terri opened the front door, came out onto the porch and waved. “Welcome to The Port,” she said, approaching the duo. “Did you have a good trip?”

“Yes, except for a near mishap on the road,” Rachel grumbled.

“Sorry about that. I’m Terri,” she said, extending her hand to Rachel and then Desiree.

“Rachel Givens.”

“Desiree Armstrong.”

“Oh, Ms. Armstrong.” Terri smiled. “I know you’ll enjoy your stay with us.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“Leave your bags. I’ll have someone come and get them. If you’ll follow me, I’ll get you all checked in and set you up with your cabin.”

They followed her inside. Rachel filled out all the appropriate forms.

“Will you be needing special meals or anything, Ms. Armstrong?”

“No, not at all. I’m easy.”

“We have breakfast here in the main house in the dining room from seven to ten. Lunch is on your own. But the fridge is always stocked, so feel free to fix whatever you like. We offer dinner as well, but many of our guests choose to go into town for the evening. So just let me know if you decide to eat in.”

“Sounds wonderful.” Desiree smiled.

“Okay, well, let me take you to your cabin.” She looked toward the door. “Oh, Josh, would you please take Ms. Armstrong’s bags to cabin six?”

“Sure.”

* * *

Terri unlocked the cabin and opened the door. “As you can see, you have all the comforts of home.” She opened a door and flipped on the light. “Full-size bath with Jacuzzi.” She walked across the room and opened the blinds. “This is one of my favorite cabins. It has the greatest view of the water. You have phone service, a wet bar—on the house—cable television, a business area with a fax machine and a computer should you need to use it.” She opened a side door. “This is your sitting room.”

The intimate room had a fireplace, sliding glass doors that led to a flowered walkway, a small fabric-covered couch and love seat in a warm brandy color, a smoked-glass coffee table and a twenty-seven-inch television and stereo system.

“Up at the main house we have a masseuse, full gym and heated swimming pool.” She took a breath and turned to them with a smile. “Anything you need, just call. I hope it meets with all of your expectations.”

“This is incredible,” Desiree said, taking in the amenities. “Nothing like any ‘cabin’ I’ve ever seen.”

Terri laughed. “That’s what all of our guests say. Well, I’ll let you get settled.” She walked to the door. “Should we expect you for dinner?”

“That might be nice. Thank you.”

“Great. Dinner is at eight.” She closed the door behind her.

“Hey, girl, you hit the jackpot,” Rachel said, falling out across the queen-size bed.

“I can’t thank you enough. This is fabulous. How did you find it anyway?”

“Trust me, it wasn’t easy. It was the last one on the shore that wasn’t filled. Apparently it’s rather new and wasn’t listed.”

“I’m glad you did. I’m sure I’m going to love it here.”

Rachel looked at her watch. “I hate to run, but I think I should head back.” She pulled herself up from the bed and stood.

“Thanks for bringing me up here and for everything.” Desiree wrapped her in a hug.

“Anything for you, sis.” She kissed Desiree’s cheek.

“I’ll walk you back to the car.”

There was a knock on the door. It was Josh with Desiree’s bags.

“Where would you like these?” he asked.

“You can put them by the bed.” She dug in her purse for a tip and handed him five dollars.

“Thank you.” He shoved the money in his pocket. “Will you be needing anything else?”

“No, I’m fine for now.”

“Listen, you get settled. I’ll walk back with Josh,” Rachel said. “If you don’t mind, Josh.”

“Actually we can ride back. I have a little golf cart out front.”

“Perfect. These aren’t the best shoes in the world for walking,” she said, referring to her designer pumps.

“Well, make sure you call me when you get back to the city. And take it easy on the road,” Desiree warned.

“I will. Promise.”

Desiree stood at the door and watched them drive away, then returned to her room. She glanced around and pulled in a deep breath. “Well, let the healing begin,” she said softly.

* * *

“Hey there, Mr. D.,” Terri greeted. “Our guest arrived about an hour ago. I put her in six. She seems really nice.”

Lincoln’s heart knocked hard in his chest. He cleared his throat. “Good. Uh, is she alone or…”

“She checked in by herself. A friend drove her up. I hope she’ll be comfortable here. She seemed a little sad, but maybe it’s all in my head.”

“Why would you think that? Did she…say anything?”

“No. She didn’t say anything in particular. It was in her eyes. You know how I am about reading people. Are you going up to introduce yourself?”

“Maybe a little later. I’m sure she wants to rest.” He started to walk away. “I’ll be in the back if you need me.”

“Sure thing, Mr. D.”

Lincoln went out of the main house to the back of the building. He slung his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and looked across the landscape to where cabin number six stood. He could see movement behind the partially opened vertical blinds.
Desiree.
She was mere feet away from him. All it would take was a short walk, a knock on her door, and they would stand face-to-face.

But it was obvious that she didn’t want to see him. She hadn’t asked for his whereabouts. She didn’t leave a message at the desk. It was clear to him that even after all this time she still didn’t want to see him.

He lowered his head, turned and walked away.

Chapter 7

D
esiree finished unpacking her belongings, tried out the remote on the television, tested that the phone was working, fixed herself a glass of rum and Coke, then decided to take a walk outside before the sun set.

She changed from her very stylish but impractical open-toed sandals and put on her black Reeboks, then took her well-worn denim jacket from the hook behind the door and walked outside.

Deciding to be adventurous, she took the path that led away from the main house and opted for the one that wound its way in and out of the property and down to the water.

She took her time, stopping along the way to pick wildflowers and wave to several couples that she passed. It was so peaceful, she mused, and the first time she hadn’t felt the constriction in her chest or the constant swirling in the pit of her stomach. She tugged in lungfuls of ocean-washed air as if to force all remnants of that night from her body.

For a moment she closed her eyes and tried to will away the last of her fears. Everything happens for a reason, her grandmother always said, even though the reasons may not be clear, and God never gives you more than you can bear.

Those words, that philosophy, had been a source of consolation and strength to her at some of the lowest points in her life. No, she didn’t understand why all that she cared about was taken from her for a second time. She believed that after what happened between her and Lincoln, she could pour all of her love and passion into her work as a way to heal. Now even that was taken from her.

She opened her eyes and looked toward the heavens as tears of anguish and confusion spilled down her cheeks. “Why, God, why?” she cried out.

“I ask myself the same question,” came a voice as gentle as the breeze that wafted around her and just as familiar.

For an instant her head spun and her heart raced wildly in an unnatural rhythm. Slowly she turned and the world seemed to stand still.

He was still just as incredibly beautiful as she remembered him in her dreams. His eyes as dark and penetrating, the mouth that had said and done exquisite things to her mind and body were the same. And that unrelenting ache that she had for him in the center of her spirit was still as intense. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, she thought. Not after all this time. She wasn’t supposed to want to run into his arms and melt in the comfort of his embrace, but damn if she didn’t.

The sadness in her eyes was there, Lincoln observed. But she was still as beautiful as he remembered—fragile yet resilient. She made you want to take care of her and rely on her strength at the same time. How many nights had he dreamed of seeing her again, holding her, making love with her? This must be the sign that he’d prayed for. It had to be.

* * *

“Lincoln…what are you doing here?”

He dared to step closer. “The place is mine.”

She blinked several times as if to get him in focus. “What?”

“The place is mine. I own The Port.” He spread his arms expansively. “All of it.”

Desiree didn’t know whether to be angry or to laugh at the twisted reality of it all.
Did Rachel intentionally bring her here, knowing that Lincoln owned the resort?
she wondered, the nagging thought jumping into her head.

“That’s really nice for you,” she said, her voice tight. “Seems like you’re doing well for yourself.”

“It’s what we talked about. Remember?”

Her heart lurched then settled. She folded her arms as if that could somehow contain her emotions.

“I remember a lot of things.”

“So do I, Des. Not all of them bad.”

She turned her back to him, unable to look at the past that was mirrored in his eyes.

“I came out here to be alone. If you don’t mind.” Her voice was as sharp and cold as an axe.

Lincoln straightened his shoulders. “I’ve never stopped loving you, Desiree. I’ll leave you with that.”

A wave of emotion welled within her, heating her body, causing her veins to throb in her temples. She didn’t want to love him, not ever again. Each night she prayed that her feelings for him would disappear so that she could live again. But that prayer had not been answered.

She turned around and he was gone and for a moment she believed it was only one of her dreams—an apparition. But she knew it was neither. She felt his presence surround her as surely as if he’d held her all through the night.

“Lincoln,” she whispered.

Desiree glanced toward the main house. Her immediate thought was to return to her cabin, pack her bags and find a way back to Manhattan. But that would be the easy way, the cowardly way. The only thing she’d ever walked away from in her life had been her relationship with Lincoln, and she promised herself, standing in that space, that she wouldn’t do it again.

* * *

Lincoln returned to the main house—shaken. He had no idea what the impact of seeing Desiree again would be like. He’d imagined it hundreds of times, but the reality was something completely different.

The raw hurt and anger was still in her eyes, in the stiffness of her shoulders, the chill of her words. Like a fool he’d romanticized their meeting. In his mind’s eye he saw them shedding the past, sharing words of forgiveness and ultimately finding their way back into each other’s lives.

It was obvious that was not to be. Then why was she here? To pour salt in his still-open wounds? To prove to him that she still didn’t need or want him in her life as she’d said that night?

Maybe it was best that he leave until she was gone, he thought as he opened the front door.

“We have a problem, Mr. D.,” Terri said, the instant he crossed the threshold.

“What is it?”

She handed him a printout.

He looked over the figures and frowned. “Did you notify Ms. Armstrong?” he asked a bit too quickly.

“No. I thought I should speak to you first. When her friend Rachel Givens made all of the arrangements she was so insistent that she was going to take care of everything and that Ms. Armstrong was not to be bothered.” She pursed her lips and folded her arms. “So what do we do?”

Lincoln stuck the printout in his back pants pocket. “Wait a day or two and try to put the costs through again. If there is still a problem, let me know.”

“Okay,” she said, making the word three syllables.

“I’ll be in the back office.”

He walked off and shut the door behind him, pulling the paper from his pocket as he crossed the room to his desk. He sat down in the swivel chair, a treat to himself when he’d closed on the property. He spun the chair to face the window, and gazed out onto the cabins beyond. What were Desiree and Rachel trying to pull?

Chapter 8

“W
hat?”

“You heard me, Rae. Lincoln owns this place lock, stock and barrel!” She pressed her fingers to her temple in an attempt to massage away the throbbing that was building by degrees.

“Desi, I swear, I had no idea.”

Desiree grumbled something unintelligible. “I know how much you’ve been lobbying for me and Lincoln to get back together, but this!”

“Desiree Armstrong, I know good and well you don’t think I set this up.”

Desiree squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and sighed. “I don’t know what to think at the moment. Every limb is shaking and my brain is on scramble.”

“Look, if you want to leave I’ll come up and get you.”

Desiree was silent.

“Well, do you?”

“No,” she snapped. “I’m not going to let him run me off.”

Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. “Well…maybe it’s for the best, you know.”

“No, I don’t know,” she snapped and rolled her eyes at no one in particular. “But like Grandma always said, everything happens for a reason.”

“The reason is pretty clear to me.”

“Oh, really? And what might that be?”

“You two were destined to meet again. Let’s be real. What are the odds that you would want to come to Sag Harbor and the only available place to stay is owned by your ex-fiancé? That’s the kinda stuff that only happens in books and made-for-TV movies.”

Desiree had to chuckle despite herself. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It is kind of freaky.”

“For real.”

They were thoughtful for a moment.

“So, what are you going to do, girl? You can’t stay holed up in your room. You’re bound to run into him again.”

“I know. I suppose I’ll deal with it…some kind of way.”

“Desi…I know the subject of you and Lincoln has been off-limits. But just between us, do you still, you know…still care about him?”

“I’ve never stopped caring about him,” she quietly confessed, then stretched out on the bed. She crossed her bare ankles. “I think about Lincoln almost every waking hour of my days. I dream of him at night. I hear his voice in my head.”

“So why, Des? Why have you stayed away? Why won’t you tell him how you feel?”

Desiree swallowed over the knot in her throat as the old pain rose from her belly.

“Because…” Her voice cracked like fine china falling to the floor. “I don’t ever want to love and lose like that again.”

* * *

“Well, where is she?” Carl demanded.

Cynthia blocked the entrance to her apartment door. She placed one hand on her hip.

“I don’t know where she is,” she said, enunciating every word.

Carl adjusted his navy silk tie and clenched his teeth. “I don’t believe you.” He pointed his index finger in her face. “You know where she is and I want you to tell me!”

“If you don’t leave now I’m calling the police.”

Carl opened his mouth to say something but stopped, then abruptly turned and left.

Cynthia slammed the door and went straight for the phone. She dialed the operator.

“Yes, could I please have the number for Honey Child Accessories?” She took a pencil from the desk drawer, listened to the recorded voice and jotted down the number on a paper napkin. She hung up and dialed the number.

“Thank you for calling Honey Child…”

Cynthia listened and waited to leave her message after the tone. For several moments she sat there staring into space.

* * *

Carl got into his Mercedes and tore away from the curb. Cynthia was lying, he inwardly fumed. There had to be a way to find out where Desiree was. She couldn’t have vanished into thin air.

Why would she leave without saying a word? She owed him. He knew he should have gone to see her in the hospital. But he called every day to check on her progress and then one day he was told she was gone. He should have forced himself to cross the hospital’s threshold, but he had a phobia about hospitals ever since he was eight years old and his mother forced him to visit his sick grandmother.

She had tubes everywhere, he recalled, and monitors that beeped eerily in the stark white room. She looked like a ghost beneath the stiff sheets. Her chest barely rose and fell and he could almost hear the drip, drip of the clear fluid that coursed through the plastic tubes into the thin blue veins that stood out against her parchment-like skin.

“Go on, Carl,” his mother urged in a hushed hospital whisper. “Say hello to your grandma.” She pushed him forward and he stumbled against the metal frame of the bed and suddenly his grandmother opened her eyes. They were black and sunken in her head. The rims were bloodred and watery. She reached out and grabbed his hand with fingers that felt like slivers of ice. Carl screamed and ran from the room. From that day to this he’d never set foot in another hospital room.

He came to a stop at the light. He’d done everything he could to show Desiree that he cared. And now all that he’d done for her had literally gone up in smoke. This was not part of the plan. He had accountants and lawyers breathing down his neck, not to mention investors. He had commitments to fulfill. He didn’t even know if he should proceed with the opening in the fall—if she was even able to work.

He had passed what was left of the loft and gallery. Whatever wasn’t destroyed by fire and water, the firefighters took care of.

The blaring car horn behind him jerked him from his marauding thoughts. He gave the driver the bird and sped through the intersection.

He had to find her. He had to make her come back. Too much was riding on it. He’d been a fool to let his emotions outweigh his reason. But one thing he was certain of, he didn’t play to lose. He would find Desiree, get her back where she belonged and the exhibit would go on as planned.

Carl eased the car to a stop in front of his co-op apartment on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. As usual, the neighborhood was quiet. The few people on the street were out walking their designer dogs or jogging in their designer workout attire. The cars glided down the smooth, black-tarred road. A few lights twinkled in the windows, showcasing cathedral ceilings, lavish dining rooms and beautiful people.

This was his world. Sterile and unimaginative.

With great reluctance he got out of his car and walked toward his building. Had he not met Desiree he would have been content with this life of illusion. But Desiree put color into his otherwise bland existence.

He turned the key in the lock and entered his empty apartment, wishing that Desiree was on the other side waiting for him.