Ask Mariah (24 page)

Tony watched his father jog up the stairs. In fifteen minutes the man had gone from furiously angry to defeated to determined. What the hell was going on? He walked over to the phone on the table and picked up the receiver.

His brother answered on the third ring. "Hello."

"Frankie, we've got a problem."

He had a problem, Michael decided as he studied his design. The Connaught office building was as exciting as a shoe box. He might as well kiss any hope for a raise and a partnership good-bye. He simply could not come up with the right idea for the building.

Getting up from his drafting table, he stretched his arms high above his head, then walked over to the window and looked out at the city of San Francisco. He could see a cable car chugging up and down the steep hills between downtown and Chinatown, eventually making its way to the end of the line at Fisherman's Wharf. He could see the Stratton Hotel from his window, too, the future site of the Connaught building.

From a distance the Stratton still looked like an elegant lady. From here he could see only the beauty, not the age. But in a couple of months, the Stratton would be gone, erased from history like a bad mistake. In its place would be a building of his design, sleek, modern, rising like a phoenix out of the ashes.

With the Connaught building he could make a name for himself and for the firm. It was the biggest project he had ever handled. A dream come true.

So why was he stuck? Why was he dreaming about old Victorian houses with crumbling stonework instead of envisioning the ultimate skyscraper? Because of Joanna, he decided, resting his hands on the windowsill. He could hear her voice ringing in his head -- her disgust that the Stratton was being torn down in the name of progress. Joanna was a dreamer, and it was easy to be idealistic when you didn't have children depending on you for food and clothing --  when you didn't have a mortgage to pay or insurance to buy.

He didn't have time for dreams. 

Then he thought about the Seacliff house, the architecture that stirred his blood, reminding him of why he'd gotten into the business in the first place.

The intercom buzzed and Helen's voice came over the speaker. "Iris Sandbury is on line one," she said.

"Thanks.  Hello, Iris? How's your vacation?"

"Wonderful. How's the house?"

He sat down in his chair. "It's great. A real find."

"How much is it going to cost me to fix it?"

"A lot."

"Do I tear it down and start over, or remodel?"

"You could do either, but I would recommend ..." He stopped, his mind flashing on Joanna's face, her joy on discovering Ruby Mae's house. He saw her in the attic, dancing around the room with the costumes. He saw her in the living room, telling his children stories by candlelight. He saw her in the kitchen, a string of cheese pizza clinging to her chin. He shook his head, trying to dislodge her image from his mind, but she and the house seemed to be one. He couldn't let Iris tear it down.

"Michael, are you there?"

He started. "I'm here. I think you should remodel. Iris. The architecture is too unique, too special to tear down. I also think there's a possibility the house could be declared a historic landmark. There are all kinds of papers and diaries in there."

"Oh, dear. It's not that I don't like history, but if it's declared a landmark, I might have a hard time doing what I want with it, wouldn't I?"

"Possibly."

"Maybe I should buy it and tear it down before anyone catches up with me. I don't care about history or old houses, but I'd love a piece of property by the ocean, and this one is perfect for that, isn't it?"

"It has a great view and it's secluded," he conceded.

"Exactly what I want. I'll be back on Sunday, and I'll make an offer on Monday before Mr. Gladstone puts it on the market. Thanks for checking it out for me. You're a dear."

He hung up the phone. He wasn't a dear. He was an ass. He was tearing down buildings right and left. A few more weeks like this, he'd probably have the city bulldozed. Joanna would hate the idea of Iris tearing down Ruby Mae's house. She'd grown attached to it -- as he had grown attached to Joanna.

Sitting back in his chair, he twisted a paper clip between his fingertips. Somehow, he'd fallen for Joanna. It was wrong. It was ridiculous. It was absurd. He couldn't think of enough adjectives to describe the impossibility of their relationship. How could he be with a woman who looked like Angela?  But Joanna wasn't Angela, and he no longer saw her as a mirror image.  But other people would. 

What the hell did he care what other people thought? Except some of those other people included the De Luca's. And they wouldn't be able to handle a relationship between him and Joanna.

Still he wanted her, deep down -- with his heart and his soul, and the realization shook him.   What the hell was he going to do?

Helen opened his office door and stepped in. "You had four messages while you were on the phone. Sophia De Luca, Frank De Luca, Marlena De Luca, and Tony De Luca."

"Damn. What did they all want?"

"Sophia wants to talk to you about Joanna. Frank wants to talk to you about Vincent, and Tony wants to talk to you about Sophia. Oh, and Marlena said not to forget she's picking up Lily and Rose from school to take them to Andrea's birthday party for the sleep over." She smiled. "Shall I get someone on the phone for you?"

"How about an airline? I'd like to get out of town."

She smiled. "Family getting a little close?"

"You could say that."

"I thought you adored the De Lucas. They were the family you always wanted."

"Yeah, well, it's funny how sometimes we get exactly what we want, only then we don't want it anymore."

Her smile vanished. "Don't say that."

"I wasn't talking about you."

"I know, but I don't even want to think that I might marry Joey, then not want him anymore. What would I do?"

You'd stick it out, Michael thought, as he and Angela had done, trying to make the best of the situation, trying to pretend that the love would come back.

Helen walked into the room and perched on the corner of his desk. "I'm just having normal pre-wedding jitters, right?"

"Probably, but if you have any doubts, wait."

"I didn't have doubts until Tony came back. He's tempting, like chocolate cake when I'm on a diet. But I know Joey is the right man for me. I can't let Tony's charm derail my life anymore." She drew in a deep breath and let it out. "So,are you going to Joey's bachelor party tonight?"

"That's right, the bachelor party." He rubbed the tight muscle in his shoulder. The last thing he wanted to do was get drunk with a bunch of guys from the neighborhood and reminisce about old times. But Helen was not just a secretary; she was a good friend, and he owed it to her to go. "Sure, I guess."

"You don't sound happy about it."

"I've got a lot on my mind."

"The other woman," she said knowingly.

"She's not the other woman. She's just -- Joanna."

Helen sent him a thoughtful look. "You've got it bad."

"I don't have anything bad, except a headache."

"You're lying. But Michael, if she looks so much like Angela, is it smart?"

"Whoever said I was smart? I rushed into marriage with Angela and look where that got me."  He shook his head. "But I'm not jumping into anything now."

She gave him a thoughtful look.  "Maybe not yet.  But love can turn smart people into the biggest fools on earth."

"Tell me about it."

* * *

"He's back," Kathleen Shannon said with a saucy smile as Tony walked into De Luca's late Friday morning.

He scowled at her cheerful demeanor. "Do you work here every hour of the day?"

"Sometimes it seems like that, doesn't it?" she said as she finished setting a table for lunch.

"Is my brother here? He's supposed to meet me."

"Not yet. Your uncle Louis and your cousin Rico with the fast hands are in the kitchen."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Are you familiar with my cousin's hands?"

"No, but he's familiar with my fist." She waved her fist in the air with a proud smile.

He couldn't help grinning back at her. She was a piece of work. "So you gave him that bruise on his cheekbone. He said he ran into a door."

"He did -- a closed door."

Kathleen had the sharpest tongue of any woman he had ever met. "Just out of curiosity, what does it take to get you to open that door?"

"That will be my secret, I think."

"I like secrets."

"Do you now? And I suppose next you'll be saying you like me." Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

He laughed. "How could I say that when you dumped me on Frank and Linda the other night?"

"It's not my fault you read anything into it."

Kathleen laughed, and Tony watched in fascination as her long earrings dangled against her ears. Her hair was a glorious shade of red, shining, soft, silky. Her eyes were like the sea, dark blue, mesmerizing, and just as dangerous and unpredictable, he decided. It was better to throw this fish back.

"I was just playing along," he said.

"Oh, sure."

"I knew we weren't going to -- you know."

"What if I had wanted to -- you know?"

That was a loaded question. In fact, every conversation with this woman left him feeling off balance, as if he'd been on land too long and hadn't gotten his sea legs back.  "If you wanted to, I could have shown you heaven in less than five minutes."

"Less than five minutes?" She laughed again. "You are a cocky one, aren't you?"

"I haven't had any complaints."

"You probably don't stick around long enough to hear them."

"I think I'll go find my brother."

"Good idea. You know Mrs. De Luca is itching for trouble," Kathleen said before he could walk away.

"My mother?"

"Good heavens, no. Your sister-in-law. Your mother is a saint. Why, if I had had her for a mother, I'd probably have turned out differently. But you distract me."

"I know."

She swatted him on the shoulder. "Not in that way. I'm not looking for a fling with some good-looking sailor who'll be leaving with the next stiff breeze."

"So you think I'm good-looking?"

She rolled her eyes. "Can we get back to your sister-in-law? She was flirting with one of the customers last evening while her husband was working in the office. That marriage is in trouble. You mark my words."

"You don't know what you're talking about. De Luca marriages last forever. It's tradition, and believe me, Frank never goes against tradition."

"I hope you're right. She's a nice woman. And the kids." Kathleen's voice lost her edge and her face softened. "Kids need two parents." Her voice turned fierce. "I might have to wring your brother's neck if he doesn't come to his senses."

"Why should you care? Frank and Linda aren't any of your business. You're not family."

She looked as if he had punched her in the stomach. "No, I'm not that," she said, busying herself with the flatware.

He hesitated, feeling guilty, although she'd certainly stuck it to him a few times. "Do you have a lot of family in San Francisco?"

"No."

"Are they in Ireland?"

"No."

"So where do they live?" Tony asked. It seemed there was no in-between with her. She either wouldn't shut up or she wouldn't say a word. He'd never met a woman so contrary.

"I don't know," she said finally.

"How can you not know?"

When she lifted her head, her eyes were filled with anger. "Believe it or not, it's pretty damn easy."

"Kathleen, wait," he said as she turned away. But she didn't stop. Maybe it was better that way. The last thing he needed was another female to muck up his mind. Lonely nights at sea were looking more appealing by the minute.

He turned at the sound of the front door closing. Linda entered the restaurant, her expression worried. "Did you manage to talk your father out of taking a trip?" she asked.

"I can't talk my father out of anything. Once he has his mind made up, that's it."

"Sounds like someone else I know," she grumbled. "Where is Frank anyway?"

"He's not with you?"

"No, I dropped the kids off at summer school and stopped by the store. He was supposed to meet us here." She looked up as Frank walked through the kitchen door. "There you are. Did you talk to Vincent?"

"Yes, and he's determined to leave town," Frank replied. "I have to tell him the truth. There's no other way."

"You can't ruin the surprise," Linda protested.

"It will be ruined if they don't show up."

"You have to think of something else."

"Like what? I told you this was a bad idea from the start. But you had to do it. Now you see what a mess you've gotten us into?"

"Me?"

"Hey, Frank, lighten up. It's not Linda's fault," he interjected. "Let's think for a minute.  My mother is a soft touch. Why don't you just ask her to baby-sit Saturday afternoon? Tell her you haven't been out together in awhile, and you desperately need the time alone before your marriage falls apart." He smiled at the discomfort on Frank's face. "For some reason I think she'd believe that."