Everything We Keep: A Novel (12 page)

“Oh dear.”

“I’ll say. It was an expensive trip. Won’t be doing that again anytime soon.”

“And the aspens?”

He put his half-full bottle on the table and faced me. “Another story for another day.” His gaze dropped to my lips and my skin tightened. The room quieted except for the hum of the air conditioner, the occasional passing car outside, and our mingled breaths. The electricity I’d felt between us earlier in the kitchen returned, charging the space between us. It acted like a magnet, pulling us toward each other. He slowly, almost cautiously, leaned toward me. My eyelids drifted close and lips parted.

“Don’t,” I whispered when his lips hovered above mine.

He stilled but didn’t pull away.

“I really like you, Ian,” I heard myself admit.

A low laugh rumbled in his throat. I could feel his smile in the subtle disturbance of the air between us.

“That’s a good thing,” he murmured.

“I’m really attracted to you, too.” I moistened my lips. “But . . .”

“But?” he prompted when I hesitated.

Nerves danced up my back. I swallowed. When I didn’t say anything, he leaned away. His brow pulled in and he slowly rubbed his bottom lip.

I set my beer beside Ian’s and went over to the fireplace, standing underneath the engagement portrait. I needed the distance between us to say what I had to say.

“I want you to know that I . . .” My face heated with a deep blush. I swallowed. “I want you. I feel this thing happening between us.”

His finger stilled on his lip. His eyes flared.

I shook my head, stopping him when he reached for me. “No, don’t. Hear me out. I can’t act on it. Actually, I won’t. Not while . . .” I hesitated and inhaled deeply, collecting my courage. Ian had become just as good a friend as Nadia and Kristen with the potential to be so much more. I trusted him and found it very easy to talk with him about almost everything. Everything except my doubts about James’s death.

Ian knew how long James and I had dated, and how difficult it was for me to suddenly find myself alone. Every dream and plan of ours had shattered in an instant like a windshield in a car accident. Unstoppable and explosive. As I picked up the pieces, Ian had laughed with me over some of the stories I shared about my years with James. On other occasions, he gave me the wide, solid expanse of his chest to cry on. If anyone deserved to know the truth about what plagued me, it was Ian.

“If you learned someone you’d lost was still alive, but you had no idea where they were, what would you do?”

The lines on his face deepened. He sharply inhaled, pausing before he answered. “I’d search every corner of the earth.”

I pressed my lips flat and nodded tightly. Maybe that was what I needed to do, and I’d start with Puerto Escondido, Mexico.

Ian cocked his head, regarding me. “What’s going on?”

“I have reason to believe James is still alive,” I blurted.

Ian’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling. He gave his head a slight shake. “What?”

“I think James is still alive,” I whispered.

“How? Why?” he sputtered. “Didn’t you bury him?”

I nodded. “But I never saw his body.”

“That doesn’t mean . . .” He stopped and rubbed his face with both hands. Leaning forward, he propped his elbows on his knees. “Why do you think he’s . . .” He circled his hand in the air, unable to say the words.

“Why do I think he’s alive?” I asked him, twisting my engagement ring. “It’s a pretty far-fetched story.”

“You don’t think I’ll believe you. That’s why you haven’t told me.”

I nodded.

“Have you told anyone?”

I shook my head, spinning the ring faster.

We watched each other for a tense moment until he sighed deeply and reached an arm toward me. “Come here. Tell me everything.”

I clasped his fingers and let him pull me down onto the couch. He didn’t release my hand, resting our linked fingers on his thigh as we faced each other. He stretched his other arm across the couch back. Before I lost the nerve, I told him about the psychic at James’s funeral, about how I’d driven to her house and dropped my wallet in the street in my rush to leave. And I told him how she’d slipped the business card to Casa del sol in my wallet when she returned it.

“You think James is living at that hotel?”

I lifted a shoulder. “I honestly don’t know what to think.” But I explained to him when I considered Lacy’s warnings, the strange visions in the nightclub restroom, how James’s paintings were missing, plus the fact I hadn’t seen the body Thomas alleged he retrieved from Mexico, questions surfaced. While I wanted Ian to understand why he couldn’t be anything more than a friend to me until I erased my doubts, part of me needed his reassurance those doubts were warranted.

Ian was quiet for several breaths and I shifted uneasily. “You think I’m crazy for believing that psychic.”

“Do you believe her? Look, Aimee,” he started before I could answer him, inching closer to me on the couch. Our knees pressed together. “I don’t think it’s too far-fetched to believe what a stranger tells you over those you trust, especially when you’re vulnerable and grieving. That’s being human. Here, I have a story to share.” He settled farther back into the couch and tucked me closer into his side. “During my travels, I see some weird shit, stuff I have trouble believing to this day. There are things out there we can’t explain. I still can’t figure how the psychic my dad hired found me.”

“Really? What happened?”

He played with the hair draping my shoulder. “My mother wasn’t quite right up here.” He tapped his index against my temple. “She’d disappear for long periods. Dad wasn’t around much either. But once, when I was nine, back when we were living in Idaho, I was the one who disappeared. I’d been missing for five days before Dad found me. The police weren’t getting anywhere so he’d hired a psychic to help. She told me magic showed her where I’d been hiding. I’ll never forget what she looked like, blonde hair so long and fair it was almost white. She had the strangest colored eyes, too. I thought she was an angel.”

“An angel,” I repeated. Fair and ethereal like Lacy. My neck prickled.

“Humph.” Ian shook his head and looked askance at me. The corner of his mouth lifted into a half smile. “I’ve never told anyone this before.”

I was glad he had told me. It made me feel better about mine, less crazy.

He brushed the back of his hand along my cheek and his gaze stole to the engagement portrait. “You and James were together for a long time. I get how letting go of him must be hard for you. Just promise me you’re not using the psychic as an excuse to keep yourself from falling in love again.” His gaze bore into me. “Because I’ve already fallen for you.”

CHAPTER 14

Ian was waiting at the café’s entrance when I arrived at five the next morning. He arranged his pictures on the wall and I admired his work, pleased I’d been right.
Belize Sunrise
fit perfectly with the café’s décor.

He climbed down the ladder. “Why are you grinning?”

“I knew your picture would look good here.”

He tossed the hammer into the toolbox. “My pictures
always
look good,” he retorted, and I play-slapped his shoulder.

When the staff arrived, I updated them about Gina, introducing Ian as her replacement. Aside from my chef, Mandy, who I’d worked with at The Goat, and my baristas, Ryan and Jilly, I had four waitresses and one waiter. Only two were working the soft launch, Emily and Faith. About ten minutes before opening I gathered everyone around. Today was a test-drive. Evaluate the workflow, sample the menu, and work out the kinks. Only friends and family had been invited and everything was on the house.

I was proud of the café’s layout and décor, pleased with the menu Mandy and I had created, and ecstatic about the expansive selection of brewed coffees. Then I saw my parents standing outside the windows and my throat clogged with nerves.

“Look at me,” Ian whispered in my ear.

I turned around. His eyes warmed and he cupped my cheek. “Everything will be fine. You’ll be fine.”

I nodded rapidly.

He peeked at his watch and grinned. “It’s time.”

“All right.” I nodded, lips pressed tight.

He unlocked the doors and I froze. “Wait!”

He cocked a brow and I wiped my palms against my thighs. James should have been here. He would have wanted to see this. Somehow, it didn’t seem fair Ian was the one beside me. But I didn’t want him anywhere else but where he was. Next to me. I latched on to his hand.

He squeezed my fingers. “It’s OK. I’m with you every step of the way.”

That was exactly what I needed to hear. I took a deep breath and opened the doors, welcoming family and friends. A gust of wind blasted my face, carrying James’s voice.

You did it, Aimee.

The soft launch could not have run smoother. Ian was a genius behind the espresso bar, blending coffees as fast as they were ordered. Ryan and Jilly barely kept up with him, but they were learning. Ian poured custom samples for Emily and Faith to distribute, further adding to my already expansive menu. Mandy’s zucchini fritters and Thai chicken panini with mixed greens were sensational.

I watched Emily serve my parents and my heart raced.

“Relax,” Ian murmured from behind me.

I inhaled deeply. He smelled of sandalwood and soap, with a dash of cinnamon mixed in. “They’ve spent their lives in the restaurant industry.”

“So have you.” He massaged my shoulders. “Stop twisting your apron.”

I let go of the material bunched in my fists. “What if they don’t like the food? What if Emily spills water in their laps? What if—?”

“They’re your parents. Go talk to them.”

I inhaled deeply. “You’re right.” Without thinking, I rose to my toes and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. It seemed the natural thing to do but surprised us both. For a moment, we stared at each other, stunned. Ian recovered first. He touched his thumb to my bottom lip, then let his arm fall.

“Sorry.” I twisted my ring.

“Don’t be.”

I looked over at my parents. Ian pushed me in their direction. “Go.”

I dragged a spare chair from an empty table and glanced at Ian over my shoulder. He gave me a smile that made my stomach flip before turning back to the espresso machine. I sat down between Mom and Dad. “Well?” I asked on a deep breath. “What do you think?”

Dad’s eyes were misty and mine immediately sheened. He broke into a smile. “I’m so proud of you.”

“These fritters are delicious,” Mom said after a mouthful. “Tell Mandy I said so.”

“Really? You like it?” I leaned back in the chair. “Thank God. I’ve been so nervous.”

Mom sliced into her fritter. “Thank
you
for hiring Mandy. After we laid everyone off, I was worried. Many of them had been with us for years. They were like family.” She rubbed my arm. “Your café is lovely.”

I rested my hand over hers. “It was a lot of work.”

“You pulled it off beautifully.” Her eyes softened. “The way you’ve bounced back after last year. Your father and I—” She broke off and rubbed her eyes, nodding at my father.

“We knew you could do it, kiddo,” Dad finished for her.

Mom sipped her water. “Why’s Ian behind the bar?”

“Gina quit yesterday.”

She hummed, watching Ian. “How convenient.”

Dad smacked my back. “One of the perks of business ownership. Get used to it. Gina won’t be the last employee who quits without notice.”

Ian must have felt the weight of our stares. He lifted his head and saluted.

Soon Nadia arrived with Mark, the commercial property broker she’d met at Ian’s showing. The one who had a wife. I quirked a brow when I saw them together. “It’s business,” she confessed.

“On a Sunday?”

“He wants to open a restaurant and I’m showing him the work I did here.”

I raised my hands in defense. “Whatever you say.”

“We’re not dating,” she insisted. “He just separated from his wife.”

I glanced at Mark, who was talking with Nick, but his eyes were on Nadia, his expression one of adoration. He was definitely interested in Nadia and I told her so. I wanted her to find some happiness, too.

Nadia watched Mark. A hint of a smile appeared when Mark shook Nick’s hand.

“Dating Mark might not be such a bad idea,” I encouraged. “After he’s divorced, of course.”

Kristen busied herself taking pictures. “I’ll e-mail them to you. Use them for your website, or print for your community board. You do have a community board, right?” She glanced around.

“Guess I better get one.” I scratched a quick note on the memo pad I carried in my apron. My to-do list before next week was growing.

A couple of hours later, I meandered through the dining area, stopping at each table to ask about the food and service. I found Thomas sitting alone at a small table in the corner. The same spot where James and I had sat at Joe’s Coffee House. I sat across from him. There were shadows underneath his eyes as he stared at James’s paintings. “He was talented. He’d be honored you share them.”

“I wish I had more.” These paintings weren’t his best work.

“I wish I’d found them for you.”

A question formed in my mind, and as it took shape, I was appalled that I hadn’t thought to ask it before. “Thomas,” I started cautiously, “your mother didn’t take his paintings, did she?” Maybe she had wanted something of James’s to remember him by, or worse, had the paintings destroyed. Phil could have stolen them. And what about Thomas? Had he taken them and been too embarrassed to admit he’d removed the boxes from my garage? I’d been distraught, practically bawling, when I first asked him to look for them.

“I doubt it. She was never interested in his artwork.”

I released the breath I’d been holding. While I was relieved she most likely didn’t have them in her possession, I was still disappointed. At least I would have known where they’d gone. “Do you mind asking her?”

He shook his head, sucked down his coffee. Black, no cream. Then he smiled, his expression melancholy. “You’ve accomplished a lot in one year.”

I glanced around the café, taking in the noise. Pots clanging in the kitchen. Mandy hollering orders. Ian grinding beans. The hiss and steam of the espresso machine. Glancing at my hands, my fingers fluttered, removing imaginary dirt from under the nails. “I still feel him, in here,” I pressed my hand flat above my breasts. “Which makes it difficult to believe he’s dead. I still feel that way, even after a year. Do you think,” I began, hesitant, peeking up at him from under my lashes. I took a deep breath and pushed out my question before I lost the nerve. “Do you think the body we buried could be someone else?”

Thomas jerked. His eyes narrowed for a brief second before the tension receded like the ocean before a tsunami. “No,” he said almost too calmly. “It’s James.”

My question had upset him, which didn’t offer me any reassurance. “I’m sorry. Forget I asked.”

He shook his head. “I feel the same, Aimee.”

I still pressed my lips flat and nodded.

He pushed his mug away. “Thanks for the coffee. It was good.” Standing, he smoothed the creases in his pants. “I’m glad Joe reconsidered your application. I knew you’d do a great job with this place.”

My eyes narrowed as I eased to my feet. How had he known Joe gave me a second chance? I hadn’t told Thomas anything about Joe initially rejecting my application. He had reconsidered before I ever had the chance to call Thomas and ask him to cosign.

Thomas looked past my shoulder and his face hardened. I followed his gaze and saw nothing out of the ordinary, only people in line to order and the door closing behind someone who’d just left. His face had gone red when I turned back.

“You OK?”

“Fine,” he bit out. “I thought I recognized someone.” He pushed in his chair and walked out after a quick good-bye.

I cleared his table. Emily interceded on my way to the kitchen. “The woman at table eight asked me to give you this.” She handed me a postcard and hurried off to serve another table.

Table eight was empty. Whoever had been there was gone. I looked at the postcard and my world tumbled. It was a promotion for an art gallery in Mexico, El estudio del pintor. On the front was a paintbrush graphic, the tip dipped in the familiar Caribbean blue paint James used for his signature, and underneath, an image of one of James’s missing paintings.
What the—?

A loud crash resounded in the kitchen. Heads popped up, looking in that direction. I slipped the card into my apron pocket and rushed to the kitchen. My hands shook violently as I crouched on the floor, assisting Mandy with the broken dishes. I dropped more pieces back on the floor than I dumped in the trash.

Mandy impatiently shooed me aside and I excused myself to the restroom. I collapsed against the locked door, my breaths heavy as shock settled over me. With shaking fingers, I slowly withdrew the postcard from my pocket and stared. Sweat bloomed along my hairline. How was this possible?

“Aimee!” Emily knocked on the door. “Are you in there?”

I jolted. “Yes. Give me a moment.”

“Mandy needs you in the kitchen.”

“Tell her I’ll be right there,” I called out.

I slipped the card back into the apron and tucked the enormity of what it meant to the back of my mind. For now. I had to focus on getting through this day.

On the seventy-five-inch plasma screen in the Donatos’ library, the New York Mets pitcher wound up on the mound at San Francisco’s AT&T Park. It was bottom of the ninth against the Giants with the bases loaded. The Mets were up by three. The pitcher launched the ball toward home plate. It sliced through the air at ninety-two miles an hour and connected dead-on with Barry Bonds’s bat.
Crack!
The ball soared over the field and dropped into a fan’s leather glove, two rows behind the wall in the bleacher section. Home run!

James and Thomas leaped from their seats. They whooped and hollered, smacking each other’s palms in high tens.

“Game over!” Thomas clapped his hands. “Time to pay up.”

Edgar Donato swore. He leaned sideways in his leather chair and tugged out his wallet. He removed two hundred-dollar bills. “Have I mentioned, Aimee, how disappointed I am neither of my sons has remained faithful to the Mets?”

“Yes, you have, sir. More than once.” We shared a smile. The Donatos had moved to Los Gatos from New York. Both Thomas and James quickly switched their loyalty to the San Francisco 49ers and Giants.

Edgar gave each of his sons a bill, and Thomas and James exchanged a fist bump. James bent over, cradled my face in his hands, and gave me a loud, wet kiss on the lips. “I’m buying us dinner, babe, later this week.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I grinned against his mouth.

James straightened and stuffed the cash into his front pocket. “You’ll have to meet me in Palo Alto. I have exams this week so I can’t get back down here.”