Nacho Figueras Presents (17 page)

Antonia felt dizzy.

“And I'm not proud of his, but honestly, Cecelia was wealthy. Like, really wealthy. I knew that if I was with her, it would just be…easier. I knew that I'd be able to stop teaching, to concentrate fully on my art. And Max could go to good schools and be taken care of.”

She pushed away from the table, started to get up, but he grabbed at her arm.

“I was wrong, Noni. I was so, so wrong. Nothing was easier with Cecelia. She was cold. She was disconnected. She believed in my talent—she helped me make it in the art world, but I don't think she ever really loved Max. She just thought he was in the way, you know? She hired all these nannies and she started talking about sending him away to boarding school…I just couldn't do that. I could never do that to him. He's my son. So we left her. And then I was back in the States, and I ran into your mom, and when I saw you again…it just seemed like kismet, you know? I realized what a huge mistake I had made. That you had really loved him. That you loved me…and I just threw that away.”

He looked up at her, imploring. “I never meant to hurt you, Noni. I swear. I made a mistake. A horrible mistake. And I just…I just want to make it right.”

She stood for a moment, her breath caught in her throat. “I…I need a moment.” She stumbled backward.

He stood up. “Noni—”

She put her hand out. “No, don't. I just…I'm going to the bathroom for a second, okay? I promise, I'll come back. But I need a second alone.”

He looked unsure but nodded as she backed away.

E
nzo had to admit, he was enjoying himself. After that first shot, he'd ordered a couple of vodka and sodas, trying not to notice the inflated price of the drinks. His teammates were fun. Raj had a million and one amazing stories about playing polo in India—including an entire year when he'd actually played on elephants—and David and Lachlan kept up a running commentary, teasing and laughing as Raj spun his tales.

It was the best Enzo had felt in a while.

He got up to use the bathroom, surprised to find that he was a little unsteady on his feet. The drinks may have been overpriced, but they definitely weren't watered down.

The corridor to the bathrooms was long and dimly lit, and just before he turned into the men's room, the women's bathroom door flung open, and Noni walked out.

Enzo blinked, not quite trusting his eyes. Noni just stared at him for a moment, saying nothing. Her face was blotchy, and her dark eyes were red-rimmed.

“Noni?” he said at last. “What are you doing here? Are you okay?”

She shook her head mutely, rapidly blinking her eyes as if to hold back tears.

“
Querida
,” he said. He took her hand and led her to the end of the hall where there was a small bench. He pulled her down next to him. “What's going on?” He didn't let go of her hand.

She closed her eyes, the tears silently slipping beneath her long, dark lashes. “There's too much to explain,” she said. Her voice sounded rusty. “Can you…would you mind just holding me for a moment?”

Without question, he put his arms around her and held her close. She wrapped herself around him, laid her head against his chest, and sighed.

“I've missed you,” he said. It hurt to say it.

She was silent. And that hurt even more.

He smoothed his hand over her hair. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head. “No.” She looked up at him, her dark eyes huge and wet, her soft trembling lips a mere few inches from his. “But I'm sure I will be,” she whispered.

He stared at her. He couldn't resist. He leaned over and kissed her, and after the tiniest moment, he felt her melt under him and kiss him back. A kiss not so much of passion as it was of exquisite, heartbreaking tenderness.

He closed his eyes and floated on that kiss, savoring the feeling of having her in his arms again. The warm, spicy scent of her, the silky brush of her hair against his cheek, the way her hands skimmed over his shoulders and rested lightly at the small of his back.

She broke the kiss and sighed, leaning her forehead against his. “I should go,” she said.

He pulled her closer. “No,” he said.

She shook her head. “Yes,” she said, but moved closer to him instead. “You're coming to my party, right?”

He nodded.

She smiled. “Good.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Then I'll see you tomorrow.”

Without another word, she got up and walked away, slipping into the night.

He sat there for a moment, the taste of her lingering on his lips, still not totally sure that he hadn't imagined the entire thing.

Then he got up and walked back to his table.

“Boys,” he said, “I need your help with something.”

S
he and Jacob walked back to the house in silence. It was a beautiful night; the tall, full pine trees along the road whispered softly in the summer breeze. The first few fireflies of the season, little green orbs of dancing light, were darting among the shrubs and trees of cottage yards. Noni could feel the warmth of the residual heat collected from the day's sun in the blacktop beneath her feet.

She was walking with Jacob but thinking of Enzo. How he had just appeared in the moment when she needed him most. As he always seemed to do. How, seconds before she had seen him, she had felt like the world was ending. She hadn't been able to catch her breath, the ground had seemed to be shifting beneath her; she had just wanted to sink to the floor and weep and had contemplated doing just that.

But then, moments later, in the safety of Enzo's arms, she somehow knew she would be okay.

She drew strength from him. She always had.

She sighed.

Jacob looked at her. “I feel horrible,” he said. “Like I've gone about this all wrong.”

She laughed ruefully. “Was there a right way?”

He shrugged. “Maybe I shouldn't have told you at all.”

She shook her head. “No. I'm glad you did. I mean, it's good to have some proof that I'm not actually the monster I thought I was, right?”

His face twisted in pain. “Is that really what you thought, Noni? For all these years?”

She kicked at a stone on the ground. “Yup. Pretty much.”

“I'm sorry,” he said softly. “God, I'm so sorry. Obviously I was the monster.”

She blew out a little puff of air and shook her head. “It was a terrible year, Jake. You were going through some impossible things.”

“I appreciate you saying that.”

“Your wife died. You had a newborn baby.”

“I know. But you were so good to me, good to us both, and I…I think I broke your heart.”

She was quiet for a moment.

“Losing Max did,” she admitted.

He nodded. “He's a great kid, isn't he? He turned out really well considering that he has such a screwup for a father.”

She laughed. “He did.”

“You were the only real mother he ever had, Noni. I mean that.”

She bit her lip, thinking of the way she'd held him as a baby. The way she'd rocked him in her arms, the heavy droop of his head as he fell asleep against her shoulder. Holding him had felt better than anything she'd ever known.

She wasn't sure how she felt about Jacob. But she knew how she felt about Max.

They had arrived at the house, both a little winded from the steep climb up the driveway. They turned and looked at the night sky reflected on the ocean. He reached for her hand, and she let him take it.

“That year wasn't always terrible, though, was it?” he said. “I mean, we had some good times, too.”

She looked at him. “We did,” she agreed.

He met her eyes. “And we could again,” he said, smiling.

“It's possible.”

He leaned down to kiss her. After a moment's hesitation, she lifted her face to his and let him.

It was nothing like the kiss she had just shared with Enzo. That kiss had said everything; this kiss was mute. She fiercely wanted this to be easier, to have Jacob's lips on hers make her feel…anything, honestly.

But they didn't.

Maybe that didn't matter, she thought. There had been something between them once; maybe things would grow between them again over time. What was important now was Max.

She kissed Jacob harder, desperately hoping for something more. He shifted against her with a little groan. “Ah, Noni,” he said, “I've missed this so much.”

She broke away suddenly, hearing the echo of Enzo's voice in Jacob's words. She panted softly from the exertion.

He looked at her and smiled gently. “It's okay,” he said. “We can take this slow. We have a lifetime ahead of us.”

Enzo lay in his bed, watching the moon through the French doors to his balcony. It was late, but he couldn't sleep.

Seeing her had shaken him up badly. He wished he kept a bottle of booze in his flat; the effects of the night's drinks had worn off long ago, and he was stone-cold sober now. But he didn't want to be.

He was fairly certain he had lost her for good. That last kiss had communicated so much. It had been filled with so much regret and longing…

He wondered if he would ever get over her.

What a fool he'd been all those years, making up reasons to hold back, refusing to act, wasting all the time they could have had. His excuses seemed so flimsy now that there was a real, immovable reason they couldn't be together. Who cared if she had money or not? Who cared who her family was? He knew, deep down, that she had never wanted him to be anyone but exactly who he was. She had literally told him that. Why had he ever doubted her? What exactly had kept him so stubbornly, stupidly frozen?

He shifted in his bed.

Fear. He'd been afraid he would hurt her like he hurt Agustina. He had thought that he would just be bringing about another disaster, that he would break her heart just like he had broken his wife's. But now he realized that he had never loved Agustina at all, really. That what had been between them had been insignificant—child's play—compared to what he felt for Noni.

Pilar had been right. He had loved Noni from the first moment he had seen her.

And he would never, ever stop loving her.

He turned over onto his other side, facing away from the moon, and then onto his back. He closed his eyes and thought of that first night at her house, out on the balcony. What had she said, exactly?

That it was not always like this. That it was almost never like this. That people can go their whole lives looking for something like what they had just felt between them—and die never finding it.

He had taken her back to her bed then. Literally carried her, kissing her the entire way there. He had laid her down on the bed and opened her robe and just stood back for a moment and looked at how beautiful she was. Her lashes, her lips, her breasts, her hair, her long legs, her creamy skin. And she'd lain there, calm and open, the look in her eyes filled with nothing but stars and heat.

He had trailed the tips of his fingers down her cheek, down her arched white neck. She shivered in pleasure and closed her eyes when he circled her breast, taking the time to graze her pale pink nipple, which hardened under his fingertips and made him throb with desire.

He had gone to his knees at that point and buried his face between her legs. God, he would never forget the taste of her—like sea and spice. The feel of her velvety thighs against his cheeks as she arched up against his mouth, laying herself open to him, crying out for more.

He grasped himself in the dark, thinking of her, and slowly began to stroke.

He remembered the way her breath quickened, the way she reached down and grabbed his hair in her fists, corkscrewing her hips against him as he licked and kissed, the way he felt her peak under his mouth, her whole body arcing in ecstasy, lifting off the bed as she cried out his name. The way he kept going, bringing her to higher and higher heights until she was trembling all over, thrashing under him, begging him to never stop.

He climaxed to the memory of how he had slid into her afterward, and she had instantly come again. He had never seen a woman so beautiful, so uninhibited, so wild and completely lost to her own pleasure. It was something he knew he would think of for the rest of his life. It was something he knew would come to him on his deathbed.

He was certain that he would leave this earth thinking of how beautiful Antonia had been.

Noni and Jacob reclined in deck chairs, side by side, drinking wine and watching the flames in Jacob's Fire sculptures. The statues were two balls of metal, one about eight feet in diameter and one about five. A mix of iron and steel, polished to a high shine. Noni still remembered treating the metal with various chemicals until they managed to get the exact look that Jacob envisioned. The metal was stretched into long circular bars, wrapped round and round, with small, lace-like holes throughout. Inside the balls were spaces for fire, which, when lit, reflected over and over on the lustrous metal and illuminated the pieces in their entirety.

It was truly great art, thought Noni, and when they were both lit, side by side, it was especially dramatic and beautiful.

She stretched in her chair and reached down lazily for her glass, sipping the dark, delicious wine, enjoying the heat and flickering light pouring off the sculptures.

“Noni,” said Jacob, “I think we should leave for Mexico sooner rather than later. Like, maybe right after the party tomorrow.”

She shook her head. “Jacob, I told you, I can't just leave my job like that.”

He turned to her. “What is more important? Your job or the three of us? You, me, and Max? I feel like there's something coming between us here, that I can't reach you the way I used to. Your family, your job, something is in the way. I don't want to wait to have a clear path. I don't want to hold back.”

She sat up. “Jake, come on. Just an hour ago you were saying we could take things slow. You said we had plenty of time. And I told you how important—”

“Antonia,” he interrupted her. “I'm in trouble.” His voice was different. Low and ragged. He sounded desperate.

A chill ran down her spine. She turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“I wasn't in Germany. I didn't get a call from my agent. There is no exhibition.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I was in the city. I was talking to my lawyer. I…I have a trial coming up.”

She sat up in the chair. “What happened?”

He wouldn't look at her. He stared into the fire. “After I left Cecelia, money got really tight. I haven't been selling much lately, and I haven't had time to make anything new, you know? So I just figured if I could make enough money to live on for a little while, I could get back to work.”

He slowly picked up his glass, took a drink of his wine, and swallowed.

“I knew some guys. They told me it would be an easy sale. I was supposed to bring the stuff from Germany, sell it in New York, and that was it. A one-time thing.”

“What stuff? What were you selling?”

“Heroin.”

She groaned softly. “Oh God, Jacob. How could you? After Astrid?”

“I know. I was desperate. But it made this cosmic sense to me somehow. Drugs had ruined my life. I thought that maybe now they could fix it, you know? It seemed like poetic justice.

“It was just going to be that one time, and then everything would be fine. Max and I would have been fine. But…there was an undercover cop.”

She closed her eyes. “God, Jake.”

“I tried to run, but she caught me, and now…my lawyer said we could make a plea deal. That I could name the guys I got it from to begin with, that I'd probably get five or ten years instead of twenty or thirty—but, Noni, that's too long. That's a huge chunk of Max's life—most of his childhood. And I'll never get my career back if I'm away that long.”

He stood up and poked at the fire, causing a shower of sparks to fly through the metal and rise up into the night sky. “So, I thought…I thought that if the three of us…could just leave. Go to Mexico, like I said. They're not going to come after me. They won't bother. They know I'm small time. And with your money we could—”

“Jesus, Jacob!” Noni stood up and wrapped her arms around herself. She was suddenly freezing. “Is this why you came to find me? For my money?”

He turned to her and caught her by the shoulders. “No! No, I swear. When I told you I wanted to be a family again, my lawyer was still saying that he thought I could get through this with no jail time at all. I never thought I'd be locked up. I thought that all of this was like, a sign—leaving Cecelia and then getting caught, and then seeing you. I thought it was a second chance. That I could start our lives over, me and Max and you. But when I found out that I couldn't get a better plea deal, I just thought, why not go? Get out. Who needs to live in the States, anyway? Plenty of people leave and never come back. You've lived all over the world. This isn't your home.”

He let go of her and ran his hands through his hair. He had tears in his eyes. “Please, Noni.” His voice was ragged. “This is our chance. Our chance to get it right this time. For Max. He needs me. He lost Astrid. He lost you. I've been his only constant.”

He broke away as a sob ripped through him.

She stared at him, numb. “I need you to take me home now, Jake.”

“Noni—” He stepped toward her.

She raised her hand, stopping him. “I'm not saying no, okay? I just…need to think. Please, take me back to Pilar's. We'll get through tomorrow first. There's so much going on. We'll talk again after the party.”