Passion's Promise (28 page)

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Authors: Danielle Steel

BOOK: Passion's Promise
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"Okay, now what do I do? I've never been interviewed before." She laughed at the nervous look on his face. He was such a nice man, with a good sense of humor.

"Well, Alejandro, let's see. Actually, you're only my second personal interview. Usually, I go about it quietly. Kind of sneaky." She looked like a kid in her pigtails and jeans. But a clean kid. That was rare in those halls.

"Why sneaky? Are you afraid of what you write?" His eyes opened wide. It surprised him. She was so direct; it seemed unlike her to go through any back doors.

"It's mostly because of the crazy life I lead. Luke covered it fairly accurately. I am one way, and live a number of other ways."

"And what's Luke to you, Kezia? Is he real?"

"Very. It's my old life that isn't real. Never was. And it's even less so now."

"You don't like it?"

She shook her head in silent answer.

That's too bad."

"I'm almost ashamed of it, Alejandro."

"Kezia, that's crazy. It's part of you. You can't deny it."

"But it's so ugly." She toyed with a pencil and looked at her hands.

"It can't all be ugly. And why 'ugly'? To most people that life looks pretty good." His voice was very soft.

"It's an empty life, though. It takes everything out of you, and doesn't put anything back. It's pretense and games, and people cheating on each other, and lying, and thinking of how many thousands of dollars to spend on a dress, when they could be putting it into something like this. It just doesn't make a hell of a lot of sense to me. I guess I'm a misfit."

"I'm afraid I don't know much about that world."

"You're better off."

"And you're silly." He reached out and touched her face, pulling her chin up until her eyes met his. "It's part of you, Kezia. A nice part. A gracious part. You really think you'd be so much better off living up here like this? People lie and cheat and steal here too. They shoot junk. They fuck their children. They beat their mothers and their wives. They get frustrated and angry. They don't have time to learn the things you know. Maybe you should just take that knowledge and use it well. Don't waste your time feeling bitter or sad for the years before this. Just use it well now."

She smiled at him for a long moment. He made sense. And he was right. Her world had given her something. It was a part of her life. "I think I hate it so much because I'm afraid I'll get stuck there in the end. It's like an octopus, and it won't let you go."

"Baby, you're a big girl now. If you don't want it, all you have to do is walk away. Quietly. Not with a bazooka in one hand and a grenade
in
the other. No one can stop you. Haven't you figured that out yet?"

He looked surprised.

"I guess not. I never felt I had a choice."

"Sure you do. We all have choices. We just don't see them sometimes. Even I have a choice, in this

'shithouse' as Luke calls it. Any time it gets me down, I can walk out. But I don't."

"Why don't you?"

"Because they need me. And I love it I feel like I
can't 
walk out, but the point is, I can. I just don't want to. Maybe you didn't want to walk out of your world either. Maybe you still don't want to. Maybe you're not ready to yet. Could be you feel safe there. And why not? It's familiar. And familiar is easy. Even if it's the shits, it's easy, because you know it. You never know the hell that is going to be out there." He gestured vaguely with one arm as she nodded. He understood very well.

"You're right. But I think I'm ready to leave the womb now. I also know that until now I haven't been ready. That's embarrassing to admit. Seems like at my age, I should have all that behind me, and be all squared away."

"Bullshit. That takes a hell of a long time. I was thirty before I had the balls to leave my little Chicano world in L.A. and come here."

"How old are you now?"

"Thirty-six."

"You don't look it." She was surprised.

"Maybe not,
querida,
but I sure as hell feel it." He laughed his soft velvety laugh, and the warm Mexican eyes danced. "Some days I feel eighty."

"I know what you mean. Alejandro . . ." Her face grew serious.

"What, babe?" He thought he knew what was coming.

"You think Luke's okay?"

"In what way?" Oh God, don't let her ask. He couldn't tell her. Luke had to do that himself, if he hadn't already . . . but he should have by now.

"I don't know. He's so ... well ... so bold, I guess that's the right word. He just does what he does and that's it. I worry about his parole, about his safety, his life, everything. But he doesn't seem to." She wasn't looking at him and he watched her hands; they were nervous and taut, playing games with her pen.

"No, he doesn't worry about his parole, or his ass, or much of anything. That's just Luke."

"Do you think he's going to get his ass in a jam one day? Like maybe killed?" She couldn't help thinking of Morris-sey. Her eyes came back to him, full of questions, and fear.

"If he has problems, Kezia, he'll tell us."

"Yeah. The day before the ceiling comes down." She had learned that much about him. He never said a word till the last minute, about anything. "He doesn't give one much warning."

"No, Kezia. He doesn't. That's just his way."

"One has to respect it, I suppose."

He nodded very quietly, and wanted to reach out and touch her hand. But he couldn't. All he could do was talk to Luke. He thought it was time.

"And that, my friend, ought to finish the story. Thank you," With a sigh, she sat back in the chair in Alejandro's office. It had been a long day. They'd been talking for hours.

"You think you've got it all?" He looked pleased. She was fun to work with. Lucas was one hell of a lucky man,
and
he knew it.

"All, and then some. Can I lure you downtown for dinner? You ought to have something to make up for my picking your brain all afternoon."

He smiled at the thought. "I don't know about that. Hell, Kezia, if you get us some decent publicity for this place, it might change a lot of things. Community acceptance, if nothing else. That's been one of our biggest problems. They hate us worse up here than they do at City Hall. We get it at both ends."

"It really seems like that"

"Maybe your story will change the trend."

"I hope so, love. I really hope so. So, what about dinner?"

"You're on. I'd take you to dinner up here, but Lucas would kill us both. I don't think he wants you hanging around this part of town."

"Snob."

"No, for once in his life he's using his head. Kezia, he's right. Don't just come up here like ifs the cool thing to do. It isn't. It's dangerous. Very."

She was amused at their collective concern. The two tough guys protecting the delicate flower. "Okay, okay. I get the message. I got a whole speech from Luke on the phone. He wanted me to come up here today in a limo." She laughed.

"Did you?" Alejandro's eyes grew wide. Talk about heat from the neighborhood!

"Of course not, you ass. I came up by subway." He an^ swered her laugh with his own. They had fallen into the easy banter and jovial insults of friends, and she was glad. He was a very appealing man. Deeply sensitive, and at the same time fun. Above all, what struck her again about him was his kindness. And he was right about her too. Her past was a part of her life. The grandeur, the money . . . running away from it wouldn't solve anything. She was tempted to with Luke, but that wouldn't do it. She was Kezia Saint Martin and he was Lucas Johns and they loved each other. He couldn't become another Whit, and she was no street girl. They had come from different places and met when the time was right But now what?

What about the future? She hadn't figured that one out yet. She hadn't figured that out at all. And maybe neither had Luke.

"Hey, Kezia, tell you what . . . how about dinner down in the Village?"

"Italian?" It was all she ever ate with Luke, and pasta was coming out of her ears. She had cooked spaghetti for him the night before.

"No. Fuck Italian. That's Luke's trip. Spanish! I know a great place." She laughed at him and shook her head.

"Don't you guys ever eat hamburgers or hot dogs or steak?"

"No way. Right about now I'd sell my soul for a burrito. You don't know what it does to a Mexican to live in this town. Everything's kosher or pizza." He made a face and she laughed again as she followed him out.

"Tell the truth. It's fantastic, isn't it?" She had settled on a tostada while he ate paella.

"I've got to admit, it's not bad. And it's a change from fettuccine."

"This place is run by a Mexican bandit, and his old lady's from Madrid. Great combination."

She smiled and sipped at her wine. It had been a nice evening. She enjoyed Alejandro's company and it took the edge off her yearning for Luke. All she wanted to do was go home and wait for his call.

"Kezia . . ." Alejandro seemed to hesitate.

"Yeah?"

"You're good for him. You're the best thing he's ever had. But do me a favor . . ." He paused again.

"What, love?" How she liked this funny Mexican man. He cared so much about everything. The kids at his center, his friends, and especially Luke. And now her.

"Please don't get hurt. He lives a hard life. It's a long way from home for you. Lucas is a gambler. He plays and he pays. But if he loses . . . you'll pay too. Through the teeth, kid—worse than anything you know."

"Yeah. I know." They sat silent for a moment in the light of the candle on their table, and thought their own thoughts.

And when Alejandro took her home, Luke was waiting for her in the living room.

"Lucas!" She ran into his arms and was instantly swept off the ground. "Oh darling, you're home!"

"You'd better believe it! And what's this lecherous Mexican bandit doing with my woman?" But there was no fear in his eyes, only delight at having Kezia in his arms again.

"We did the interview today." Her words were muffled as she buried her face in his chest. She held him as tightly as a child would, clutching all her security in those arms, in those shoulders, in that man.

"I wondered where you were. I got home two hours ago."

"You did?" She looked more childlike than ever, the days of worry slipping away from her like rain.

Alejandro stood by and watched the scene with a smile. "We had dinner at a nice little Spanish place in the Village."

"Oh God, he took you to that place? How bad is the heartburn?"

She grinned up at him again as she slid out of her shoes and stretched, a look of mischief coming to her eyes. Lucas was home and he was safe!

"Not bad. And it was lovely. Alejandro is very'good to me."

"Best dude I know." Lucas sprawled on the couch with an appreciative look toward his friend, who was getting ready to leave them.

"Don't you want some coffee, Alejandro?"

"Nope, I'll leave you lovebirds alone."

"Smart man, Al. She has some packing to do anyway. We're leaving for Chicago in the morning."

"We are? Oh Lucas, I love you! How long are we staying?" This time she wanted to know how long they had.

"How about till Thanksgiving?" He looked at her happily through half-closed eyes.

"Together? Three weeks? Lucas, you're crazy! How can I stay away that long? The column . . ." Oh shit.

"You do it in the summer, don't you?" She nodded.

"Yeah, but I cover things over there, and there's no one here in the summer." He laughed, and she looked a question into his eyes.

"What's so funny?"

"The way you say 'no one.' Can't you cover a couple of posh posh parties in Chicago?"

"Yeah. I guess I could." And she wanted to go. Oh God, how she wanted to go!

"Then why don't you? And maybe I can wind things up there in less than three weeks. There's no reason why I can't work out of New York. What the hell . . . and all I really need is a week there to work out some things. I can commute, if I have to."

"Could we both commute?" Her eyes were filled with stars.

"Sure we could, Mama. The two of us. I made up my mind on the plane coming back here tonight. I told you it would never be like that last stint again, and it won't be. I can't stand it without you."

"Lucas, my love, I adore you." She bent quickly to kiss him.

"Then take me to bed. Good night, Alejandro."

Their friend chuckled to himself as he let himself out. Lucas was asleep before she turned the lights out.

She looked at him, sound asleep on his side. Lucas Johns. Her man. The hub of her life. And here she was, following him from town to town like a gypsy. It was fun, she loved it, but she knew that sooner or later she'd have to make some decisions . . . the column . . . she hadn't been to a party in weeks . . . and now she was off to Chicago . . . and what then? But at least Lucas was with her. And safe. Who cared about parties? She had been afraid for his life.

Chapter 20

"Kezia, when are you coming back?"

She had been on the phone long-distance to Edward in New York for over half an hour. "Probably some time next week. I'm still working on that story out here." And she had appeared at two social galas, but it was harder out here. This wasn't her town. It took a lot more research to come up with the dirt.

"Besides, darling, I'm enjoying Chicago." That confirmed the worst of his suspicions. She sounded so happy. And she was not the sort to be thrilled by Chicago; it was not her milieu. Too Midwest, too American, too Sears Roebuck, and not enough of the rarefied air of Bergdorf s and Bendel's. There had to be someone in Chicago. Someone new? He only hoped it was someone worthwhile. And respectable.

"I saw your last article in
Harper's.
Nice piece. And I heard from Simpson the other day that you've got something coming out in a few weeks in the Sunday
Times"

"I do? Which one?"

"Something about a drug rehabilitation center in Harlem. I didn't know you'd done that."

"That was just before I left town. Save it for me when it comes out" But suddenly there was an unspoken awkwardness between them. They both felt it.

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