Game of Love (15 page)

She studied Andre, whose eyes scanned and searched, calculating, trying to find an answer to this problem of hers that had no solution. They would have to leave soon. She would have to go into hiding because anywhere she went, the leeches would follow. Maybe she could invite him to her place?

No, too soon. She had to be smart and not let her emotions drive her actions.

“I have to get back home in a bit to grab my gear. I promised my friends I wouldn’t flake. Maybe we can see each other later?” he asked. “We can put on disguises and eat a meal. There’s a Halloween store down the road. Hey, I have an even better idea: why don’t you join me and my friends at the beach?”

“You are one persistent nag. Let me see. My handlers have been trying to call me. They didn’t know I was coming to LA, so I may have surprises waiting for me.”

“Give me your number. I’d be happy to surprise you also.”

She considered his question. “It’s best I call you instead. I don’t like surprises.”

They headed back to his condo, a silent stroll through the streets of Santa Monica. All morning, their words had flowed with ease. No hesitation, no pretense, just two people enjoying each other’s company. But what Gemma really loved was that each moment she spent with him, she slid further away from her other world.

She thought about it for an instant, scanned around, then reached out and grabbed his hand. They glanced at each other then allowed their arms to swing.

“Are we going to skip?” he asked.

“You won’t look graceful. You’ll cramp my style.”

“I thought Brits were polite.”

“I
was
being polite.”

If someone saw them now, they could have been mistaken for high school kids. And in that moment, she was a kid, with no pressures or burdens from the tennis world.

He tugged her in closer, then released her hand and wrapped his arm around her waist. His hand resting on her hip, his thigh rubbing against hers. Tremors burst along her skin.

When they reached his building, she turned to him, her body tight against his. She studied his eyes then fought the urge to study his lips. “We’ll talk later,” she said, then placed a soft kiss on his cheek, barely missing his mouth. She let the kiss linger, long enough to feel his chest tighten.

Too soon, be smart
, she thought, then stepped back, avoiding eye contact. She turned and quickly slid into her car, and sped away. The pressure in her lungs made breathing nearly impossible.

“Freedom is nothing else but a chance to be better.”
~Albert Camus

rom inside his car, Andre watched the coastline and studied the fifty-foot cliff named Point Dume, wondering if it had really meant to be spelled “Doom.” He knew the climb would prove formidable, having seen others scale her before. Most ascended the north face, overlooking the sand, but the more daring took on the west face, overlooking the ocean, high above the jagged boulders littering the base. He looked forward to the challenge. When he scaled, the world and the conversations in his head came to a hush. Instead, he focused on negotiating a peaceful climb with nature–not debating the future, exhaustion, or Gemma.

She was causing a commotion in his head. That was the only way he could describe it, because he wanted to be with her.

All.

The.

Time.

He had never felt this before. If he didn’t hear from her soon, he’d have to track her down. She was unhealthy for him, but somehow also breathed life into him.

Just as he stepped out of his car, his phone rang. Gemma? No… Roger. He pressed
Ignore
. Why was the concept of a day off so difficult to grasp?

His friends were already making camp. Chris had prepared the north face with hooks and two rope lines, ready for parallel climbs, maybe even a couple of face-offs. Chris’s fiancée, Sandy, the architect, was assembling their poor-man’s cabana because she was an architect, after all. Dan fiddled with the boom box while his wife, Dina, applied suntan lotion to their two-year-old daughter Haley, Andre’s goddaughter. He scanned around and found his cousin, Linda. He admired her. How she found the power to fight even when life dealt her one misfortune after another, he’d never understand. Today was for her. On Memorial Day, they remembered a fallen friend: Linda’s fiancé. Today would have been their one-year wedding anniversary. But the wedding never happened. His flame had been extinguished by the hands of an invisible assassin: cancer.

“How are you slackers doing this fine mornin’?” Andre asked.

“
Andres
!” Linda yelled. She sprinted toward him. The others released a primal grunt and followed her.

“Wait, wait!” Andre said, his hands up, hoping to thwart the attack. “Be gentle, I’ve–”

The gang tackled him to the ground. In the pile-up, they punched him, poked him, and even kissed him.

“Okay, enough!” he said, chortling through the persistent tickling. He sat up. “Really, guys?”

“It’s your fault,” Chris said, and offered his hand to Andre. “You’re always with your uppity friends. How else are we supposed to keep you grounded?”

“Yes, I feel grounded all right. My ass has a lot of ground in it.”

“Too much information,” Sandy said.

“Was that my outside voice?” Andre asked.

Minutes after she had left Andre’s, Gemma had changed her mind. She would join him and his friends. She pulled into the parking lot and saw them–they were the only ones there. She stared in wonder as Andre’s friends helped him to his feet, then hugged and kissed him.
How beautiful
. She wondered if he realized how lucky he was to have so many friends. She had Tish, full stop.

What are you doing here? You don’t know them. You don’t even know him.
But she wanted to know him better. And on some level, she felt she did know him and understood him.

One of the women there wrapped her arm around his waist then leaned her head on his shoulder.
Who is she?
Gemma took a deep breath, drank her water bottle empty, then raised her chin. “Right. Let’s do this.”

She stepped out of her car and with a jolt of adrenaline inadvertently slammed the door. One of the women, with medium-length, dirty-blonde hair, turned. Gemma’s chest tightened.
Just keep walking
…
left, right. Do. Not. Trip!

The rest of the group turned.

Andre swiveled slowly, then paused. She focused on him, his eyes.
Gemma,
she saw him mouth. His smile broadened as he let go of the woman he was holding and plowed through the sand toward her.

His body pressed into hers when they hugged. “Thank you for coming,” he whispered. The wind ruffled his hair. “Glad you changed your mind.”

She beamed. “Me too.” Her voice cracked.

“You’re safe here. Just be you,” he said then paused. “The one I met on the plane–not the one at breakfast in Paris.” He winked then peered at his friends. “Family, I want you to meet my friend, Gemma. Please behave yourselves.”

Gemma shook hands with the men, received a kiss on the cheek from the ladies, and was hugged by his cousin, Linda, the woman who had been holding Andre so tightly.

Gemma felt torn, unsure how to act. Which Gemma? The reserved one who obsessed over everything that was said about her, or the Gemma who had let loose the day before? She had heard Andre, but it was hard to drop her guard.

They sat under the canopy, and while the men studied the cliff, the ladies laid out snacks and drinks. Then she caught sight of the little girl–platinum blonde with hazel eyes and the cutest round belly.

“How do you know Andre?” Sandy asked.

“We met in Paris,” Gemma said.

“As in, last week?” Linda asked.

“That’s right.”

Linda appeared to be studying Gemma. “You have such lovely eyes,” she finally said.

“Thank you.” For an instant Gemma relaxed, but just as quickly she was worried again. She glanced over her shoulder, expecting the worst.

“Don’t worry,” Linda whispered. “No one but surfers show up this early. You’ll be safe from wandering eyes.”

“Do you climb?” Sandy asked. “My fiancé, Chris, may try to work you.”

“Climb what? That?” Gemma asked. “Is he serious? That’s a flat wall.”

“Dead serious,” Dan said as he slid under the canopy. “The good news is he also claims he’s a survival expert, so if you fall and break something, he’ll help you survive.”

“As reassuring as that sounds, I’ll have to skip this go,” she said.

She was nearly certain they recognized her, but beyond Linda, no one made reference to it. They treated her like a normal person. Gemma’s armor lowered.

She watched Andre play with little Haley, who appeared to be taken by him as well. Haley giggled and snuck little peeks; a toddler being coquettish.

“Okay, we’re ready to climb,” Chris said, calling the group into action. “Sandy, will you get the camera? Andre climbs first.”

“Andre?” Gemma asked. “Are you insane? That looks awfully dangerous.”

Andre winked. “I should be okay.”

“Should?”

Andre took off his shirt and tossed it on the sand. Her face went slack. Like the rock he was about to climb, he was made of stone. An absolute perfect structure.

“Andre, what happened to your chest and shoulder? Are those burns?” Dina asked.