What a Girl Wants (23 page)

She took his hand and helped him in.

Tears sprang into his eyes at the thought of everything they had taken for granted, and everything they’d lost that would never be recovered. He averted his head, clearing his throat, pretending to look at the room.

Lillian let go of his hand and went to a sideboard. She came back with a martini for him and a glass of wine for herself. “Have some,” she said as she handed the glass to him. “You look like you could use it.”

“You always did know me.” He took a sip, feeling the gin go down warm. A little more settled, he gestured around the room. “What is all this?”

“Reconciliation.” She set her drink down and faced him, hands on her hips. “But I’m
angry
.”

He nodded. “I know.”

Cheeks flushed, she waved her hands. “All these years I’ve supported you, I’ve waited for you to do your thing so we could have our time, but it never came. You kept working despite what was good for us. You would never have retired if the doctor hadn’t said you were going to die.”

“I can’t deny that.” He didn’t feel proud about it either.

“Then you retired and you weren’t interested in me.” She glared at him. “You never asked about my painting, or what I do during the day, or how I was without the girls at home. Do you know how it feels to have your best friend,
your partner-in-crime
, not be interested in you?”

“I think I can imagine that,” he said soberly.

She pointed at him. “I’m done with the moping.”

He went to her and took her hand, his thumb touching her wedding ring. “I’m done moping, too.”

“You’ll find a hobby?” she asked, suspicious.

“I’d like us to share hobbies.” He stepped closer to her. “Remember when we used to dance?”

Her entire being softened. “I liked when we danced.”

“Let’s do it again,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “I’m sorry, Lili. I’m so sorry I lost my way. I lost myself somewhere after retirement. I fell into a hole and I’ve been having a hard time digging out of it.”

“You should have asked me, Eddie.” She laid her hand on his cheek. “I have a shovel.”

He kissed her, slow and careful, like it was the first time.

It
was
like the first time. She was a different person than she’d been all those years ago when he’d first kissed her. She tasted different. Better. More to his palette.

He gathered her closer, holding her tight, breathing her in, afraid if he let her go he’d wake up to find this was a dream. “What changed your mind? A few days ago you were done with me, convinced that I was cheating on you. What made you arrange this?”

“The girls pointed out that you’d never cheat—”

“It’s not in me to cheat,” he had to say.

“I had to calm down to acknowledge that. And then I found this.” She pulled away from him and went to the sideboard. When she returned, she held out a worn envelope. It was stained on a corner and it looked worse for the wear, but he recognized it nonetheless.

“My letter,” he said, incredulous.

She nodded. “I found it outside, near the garbage bins. It hadn’t made it in. It was a good thing, too, because it was what changed my mind.”

He stared at it, hearing that strange woman with the creepy eyes say, ‘
Find the letter and everything will be okay
.’ “Damn me,” he murmured.

Lillian poked his shoulder. “But there are ground rules here. From now on, you pay attention. I’m more than the kitchen help.”

“Understood. Clearly,” he added. He took her hand and drew her closer. “I promise to love you, to honor you, and to cherish you, now and forever.”

Her eyes teared, and she blinked several times. “Damn it, don’t say things like that. I have mascara on.”

“Get used to it.” He lifted her chin to look into her beautiful, teary eyes. “Do you love me?”

“Forever, Eddie.” She wound her arms around his neck. “And every day beyond that.”

‡

A
riana had four calls to make today. She sat down at her desk, a.k.a. the dining table, to make them happen.

The first one was to her dad, to ask him to meet her. They arranged to meet at the juice shop in the early afternoon.

The second was to Mark Schaffer at Whole Foods. She thanked him for his offer and politely declined. She wasn’t ready to go national; she wasn’t sure she ever would be.

The third was to Marjorie at By The Sea in the Ferry Building. Ariana happily accepted the commission, telling her she’d email a sample of the custom labels and product names for her approval. Marjorie was surprised and pleased that even the products would be specially themed just for her store.

The fourth call was trickier.

Ariana sat there, staring at her cellphone, wondering what she could say to convince Sebastian to come talk to her.

She got up to ask George what she should say, but as she stepped outside and turned the corner she saw the gold neon
PSYCHIC
sign and took a detour. She rang the doorbell and waited.

“Hello,” a chipper voice said from behind her.

Gasping, Ariana whirled around to find Esme right behind her, her ever-present smile shining.

But the woman’s smile dimmed as she studied her. “Oh, Ariana,” she said pityingly, shaking her head. “I told you.”

“I know,” she said, holding her hand up. “You were right, and I should have listened, but I’m going to fix everything with him. I just need help.”

“Come inside.” Esme brushed by her and opened the door.

Ariana followed her upstairs and went directly to sit on the little chair by the window.

Esme joined her, sitting demurely with her legs crossed and her hands folded in her lap. She batted her eyes and said, “Go on.”

Exhaling deeply, she let it all out. “I screwed up. I know I did. You told me to be open, and I wasn’t.”

“Mm-hm,” Esme agreed primly.

She stared at the woman. “You aren’t going to make this easy, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Okay.” She nodded. She deserved it. Nothing worthwhile was easy. “I need to make things right with Sebastian, but he’s rightfully annoyed with me. What do I say to get him to listen?”

Esme frowned. “Are you serious? This isn’t rocket science. Tell him you love him.”

She thought about the last time she saw him and how angry he was. “You think that’s all it’ll take?”

“Yes, and that’s my professional opinion.”

Ariana leaned in, lowering her voice. “Is that what you, you know,
see
?”

Esme rolled her eyes. “Want me to get my crystal ball out?”

“Do you have one?”

“No, but I do have this.” She reached under the table and pulled out a Magic 8 Ball. Shaking it, she held it out.

Ariana looked at it.
It is decidedly so
. Belle would have called it bullshit, but the reply was still reassuring regardless.

“How does it look?” Esme asked.

“Promising.” She stood up.

Esme shook her head as she stood, too. “You know the eight ball isn’t real, right?” she said as she escorted her downstairs. “But you and Sebastian are.
That’s
what you should trust.”

“I shouldn’t trust you?” Ariana asked at the entrance.

Esme shrugged. “I only see what’s reflected in your heart. It’s your heart you should always trust.”

*

Her dad was already at the juice shop, standing outside frowning at the menu.

Ariana walked up to him, reaching on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Hi, Dad.”

“People pay that much to drink salad?” he asked, shaking his head.

“It’s a new era. Come on.” She linked her arm through his. “The salad is on me today.”

They ordered their juices and sat on a little bench under the shop’s awning. “So how’s life, Dad?”

“Life is actually pretty nice.” He smiled. “Your mother and I are taking salsa classes.”

“No way.” She raised her brows. “So I take it whatever rocky patch you guys were going through has smoothed out?”

“Yes,” he said, his expression warm with love.

Her heart turned, and she hugged him. “I’m happy for you, Dad.”

He raised her chin to look in her eyes. “I want you to be happy, too. I’m sorry if I’ve been pushing you, but I think you’re selling yourself short.”

She nodded. “I know, which is why I called you. I’m going to tell you how it’s going to be.”

“You really are Lillian’s daughter, you know.”

“I know,” she replied softly. Then she cleared her throat. “You can’t distract me. I’m on a mission. First of all, about my business.”

“Yes?” He sipped his juice, making a face as it went down.

“Stay out of it. It’s my business.” She held her hand up to forestall the argument that was coming. “I’m not saying you were wrong. I’m taking a few small consignments, but I’m not going with Whole Foods. That’s overreaching.”

He nodded. “I can live with this.”

“You have to live with it. It’s my choice.” She leaned in. “I’m keeping Sebastian, too.”

“That’s smart of you,” her dad said. “He’ll be able to help you figure out how to scale your business properly.”

“I hope so, but I’m also keeping him as my lover.”

Her dad choked on his juice. “
What?
”

She nodded. “Sebastian is the man I love.”

“Damn, Ariana, was it really necessary to tell me that way?” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I’m your father.”

She put her hand on his face and looked in his eyes. “I want to keep him, Dad.”

He searched her face. “You really love him?” he finally asked.

“Yes.” She sat back. “I screwed things up, but I’m going to make it right.”

Her dad put his arm around her shoulders. “Sebastian Tate is a fair, smart man. Loyal, too. If he feels the same way about you, he’ll come around.”

She leaned into her dad’s chest. “You think so?”

“Yes.” His expression darkened. “And if he doesn’t, I’ll make him regret it.”

Laughing, she kissed his cheek. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you, too.”

Between Esme and her dad, she felt eager to talk to Sebastian. It’d have been easier to text him, but she didn’t want to take the easy way. She wanted him to know that she was trying. So she called him.

She paced in her living room as the phone rang. She started to worry that he wasn’t going to pick up when he finally did. “Should I be happy or wary?” he asked cautiously.

“Happy, I hope.” She took a deep breath. “I have something I want to show you. Can you come over?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

Don’t say no
, she mentally urged him.
Say you’ll come
.

“I can come by around six,” he said as she just about gave up hope.

She exhaled in relief. “Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

She hung up and then touched her head.
Six o’clock
. She checked the time and gasped. She needed to move.

Six o’clock rolled around so quickly, which was awful and a godsend at the same time. She’d just finished stringing up the lights on the roof when her phone rang with the front door.

She buzzed him in and waited.

And waited some more.

She worried her lip. Maybe he didn’t see the note on her door telling him to come up?

As she started to head to the door to go downstairs and find him, it opened, and he stepped through, looking around.

Her heart sighed happily seeing him, and all doubts and worries faded. Esme was right—her heart did know. It was time to trust it.

He looked around, and she followed his gaze, wanting to see it as he did. Her plants swayed happily in the dusk breeze, and the fairy lights she’d strung up only made them more mystical. The Golden Gate Bridge stood sentry in the background, solid and sure.

She knew Sebastian well enough to know that he saw all the details of the garden and the emotions behind them. She knew that he’d be able to see that she cultivated this space with love and what it meant to her.

Finally he faced her. “This is amazing.”

She nodded. “It’s my favorite spot in the city.”

“I can see why you’d be selective about who you let come up here.”

“Only the people I love,” she said, watching his expression.