them. She withdrew it, as if she’d made a mistake, and sipped her wine. “Laney’s waiting for you.”
“I’d rather talk with you for a while. You haven’t told me anything about what’s been going on in your life. What’s happening with your artwork? How are things between you and your father? Tell me about your latest adventure or favorite student from last year. I’ll take anything, Vivi. Just talk to me.”
He leaned forward again in his chair, elbows resting on his knees, as if praying for some response. She stared at the streak of moonlight lighting a path across the ocean before finally turning to glance at him.
“It’s been a long, strange day, David. All I really want to do right now is zone out.” She finished her wine. “I’m sorry, but I’m sure you can understand my need for space.”
A sense of karma tempered his frustration. Perhaps he deserved a taste of the treatment he’d dished out for the past eighteen months. He’d withdrawn and shut down, and now the doors he’d closed weren’t reopening easily.
“I understand.” He hesitated. “Before I go in, can I ask if you’ve made plans for your birthday next month? I saw something recently about that Australian photographer you admire, Peter Lik, photographing a new series around New York. Maybe we could check out his gallery in SoHo and then kick around the neighborhood for the afternoon. We can browse all the little shops and street vendors you love so you can pick out a birthday gift.”
Vivi went still, as if she were holding her breath. “That’s a nice idea. Let’s play it by ear, though, okay? Who knows what we’ll both be doing in four weeks.”
Her refusal to commit to any plans sent him a cold, clear signal—she intended to keep him at a distance. He’d acquiesce for now, but not forever. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He waited for a response. She faced him, wearing a serene smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Sleep well, David.”
Torn and unsatisfied, he conceded. “Good night, Vivi,” he said on a sigh.
He gently squeezed her shoulder, allowing his fingers to linger a few seconds before he released her and went inside.
C HAPTER E IGHT
M uttering a curse thanks to another restless night, Vivi pushed the clock aside and glowered at the ceiling. Six o’clock. Why couldn’t she sleep in like a normal person on vacation?
Across the room, Cat’s chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm. Vivi studied the framed picture of a vintage sailboat hanging on the wall. Several minutes passed before she gave up all attempts to relax. Dragging herself from bed, she schlepped to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face.
With her hands plastered on the vanity, she stared at the mirror. Naturally, her tangled mess of hair stuck out in six different directions. After several painful attempts to finger comb the unruly mass, she gave up and tucked it behind her ears as best she could. Laney probably wakes up with perfect hair , she thought. Ugh! Driving herself insane with comparisons wouldn’t help.
Anyway, Franco liked her imperfect appearance. She brightened in anticipation of seeing him again. Between him and the upcoming performance, she’d lucked into some intriguing distractions.
She closed her eyes and imagined Franco’s accent. Very hot! More than once she’d wondered why such a good-looking, mature man with an awesome career would find her interesting. Something must be wrong with him, and it would become apparent soon enough. She shrugged because she liked the diversion, in any event.
Satisfied her morning hair and breath were no longer lethal, she pushed away from the sink. Her light footsteps echoed in the open stairwell. When she reached the main level, the aroma of a fresh pot of coffee surprised her. Who else was awake . . . and whistling? Turning the corner, she bumped into Hank.
“Hey, you.” She opened the cupboard and grabbed the largest mug available. “Why are you up so
“I’d rather talk with you for a while. You haven’t told me anything about what’s been going on in your life. What’s happening with your artwork? How are things between you and your father? Tell me about your latest adventure or favorite student from last year. I’ll take anything, Vivi. Just talk to me.”
He leaned forward again in his chair, elbows resting on his knees, as if praying for some response. She stared at the streak of moonlight lighting a path across the ocean before finally turning to glance at him.
“It’s been a long, strange day, David. All I really want to do right now is zone out.” She finished her wine. “I’m sorry, but I’m sure you can understand my need for space.”
A sense of karma tempered his frustration. Perhaps he deserved a taste of the treatment he’d dished out for the past eighteen months. He’d withdrawn and shut down, and now the doors he’d closed weren’t reopening easily.
“I understand.” He hesitated. “Before I go in, can I ask if you’ve made plans for your birthday next month? I saw something recently about that Australian photographer you admire, Peter Lik, photographing a new series around New York. Maybe we could check out his gallery in SoHo and then kick around the neighborhood for the afternoon. We can browse all the little shops and street vendors you love so you can pick out a birthday gift.”
Vivi went still, as if she were holding her breath. “That’s a nice idea. Let’s play it by ear, though, okay? Who knows what we’ll both be doing in four weeks.”
Her refusal to commit to any plans sent him a cold, clear signal—she intended to keep him at a distance. He’d acquiesce for now, but not forever. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He waited for a response. She faced him, wearing a serene smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Sleep well, David.”
Torn and unsatisfied, he conceded. “Good night, Vivi,” he said on a sigh.
He gently squeezed her shoulder, allowing his fingers to linger a few seconds before he released her and went inside.
C HAPTER E IGHT
M uttering a curse thanks to another restless night, Vivi pushed the clock aside and glowered at the ceiling. Six o’clock. Why couldn’t she sleep in like a normal person on vacation?
Across the room, Cat’s chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm. Vivi studied the framed picture of a vintage sailboat hanging on the wall. Several minutes passed before she gave up all attempts to relax. Dragging herself from bed, she schlepped to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face.
With her hands plastered on the vanity, she stared at the mirror. Naturally, her tangled mess of hair stuck out in six different directions. After several painful attempts to finger comb the unruly mass, she gave up and tucked it behind her ears as best she could. Laney probably wakes up with perfect hair , she thought. Ugh! Driving herself insane with comparisons wouldn’t help.
Anyway, Franco liked her imperfect appearance. She brightened in anticipation of seeing him again. Between him and the upcoming performance, she’d lucked into some intriguing distractions.
She closed her eyes and imagined Franco’s accent. Very hot! More than once she’d wondered why such a good-looking, mature man with an awesome career would find her interesting. Something must be wrong with him, and it would become apparent soon enough. She shrugged because she liked the diversion, in any event.
Satisfied her morning hair and breath were no longer lethal, she pushed away from the sink. Her light footsteps echoed in the open stairwell. When she reached the main level, the aroma of a fresh pot of coffee surprised her. Who else was awake . . . and whistling? Turning the corner, she bumped into Hank.
“Hey, you.” She opened the cupboard and grabbed the largest mug available. “Why are you up so
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