Return to the Beach House (36 page)

No display of past joy could erase the images that had turned viral on the Internet, pictures put out by her captors showing Ekaterina’s terror-stricken face before she died. Images of the actual violence done to her would have gotten the clip removed immediately, but the people behind it were too clever for that and the video stayed up for almost a week—plenty of time to be copied onto other sites and talked about on blogs and passed from computer to computer on email loops. Ten million official hits. Not close to the Sneezing Panda or Justin Bieber or a skateboarding dog, but enough to make Ekaterina more famous in death than she’d been in life.

Matthew did what Zach had asked him to do—he told stories that made people laugh. Ekaterina loved practical jokes, none more than the ones pulled on her. He told the stories behind the best and the worst, not breaking down himself until he looked at Zach and saw him smiling through his tears.

Except when he was speaking, Matthew sat next to her, hanging on to her hand so tightly his fingers left marks in her palm. For most of the service, he kept himself together through sheer will, and she was the only one who knew what was happening to him inside.

This time when the door to the agents’ offices opened, Matthew appeared. He had an expression that vacillated between bewilderment and incredulity, topped off with a lopsided grin. He took her cup and put it back on the sideboard. “Come on—let’s get out of here. I have something to tell you and it can’t wait.”

“Me too,” she said, almost running to keep up with him. “I’ll flip you for who goes first.”

As soon as they were in the elevator with the doors closed, he kissed her, long and hard and with toe-tingling passion. He didn’t stop, not even when the elevator doors opened several floors later. A man started to get in, gave a little bow, and said, “This one is all yours.”

“How long have we got?” Lindsey said breathlessly.

“Not long enough.”

“Want to bet?” She reached for the S
TOP
button.

Matthew grabbed her hand. “Look up.”

She did and saw a security camera perched too high for either of them to reach. “Damn.”

He put his arms around her waist, lifted her in a bear hug, and swung her in a circle. “I’m sure there must be a utility closet somewhere.”

“Tell me,” she pleaded.

“Not yet.”

The next time the doors opened they were on the first floor. “Drinks or the hotel?” he asked.

She laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”

Matthew had the cab driver stop by a liquor store on the way to the hotel. He asked for their best champagne and was given a bottle of Louis Roederer Cristal Brut. When they reached their room, he filled the sink with ice, put the bottle in to chill, and joined Lindsey on the bed.

“Now?” she asked, yielding to his enthusiasm. What she had to say was beyond the moment, it was forever.

He brought her to him for a kiss. “First, I owe you an answer to your proposal.” He opened his hand and showed her the jade elephant. “I know it’s not traditional, but nothing could mean as much to me as this does. Is it okay? Will it do for an engagement ring until we can find one you like better?”

She caught her breath. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for days. I just didn’t know how you’d feel.”

She tried, but couldn’t stop the tears. Taking the elephant from his hand she put her arms around his neck. “There is nothing better. I don’t know how to tell you how much this means to me.”

“It doesn’t bother you that it’s associated with something sad?”

“Christine sent this to you in love, not sadness. It’s time her gift represented what she intended.”

“I still miss her.”

Lindsey touched his cheek. One day she would tell him about Joe and Maggie and how she’d come to be a believer in things she’d once dismissed as easily as the magic of double rainbows. “She’s here, Matthew. Just as Ekaterina is there for Zach.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “You do realize how certifiable you sound.”

“Afraid I’m turning new age on you?” She twisted so that he could put the necklace on her. Pressing the pendant to her chest, she was overcome by a wave of emotions. “Now it’s my turn,” she said.

“Not yet.”

“There’s more?” She wasn’t surprised, just anxious. What she had to tell him would be as life-altering as their engagement.

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been offered a dream assignment, something I never imagined was possible.”

When he hesitated, she said, “Am I supposed to guess?”

“You couldn’t. Hell, I couldn’t.” He started to tell her and then stopped, lost for the right words. “Before I say anything more, I want you to know that I countered their offer with what I told them was a deal-breaker. They have to give me time off whenever you have free time.”

She grinned. “That’s easy.”

“Since when?”

“Yesterday.”

He frowned. “Does this have something to do with what you have to tell me?”

“It’s everything. I quit. Officially. Actually put it in writing. I’m no longer working for the agency—not covering any war, anywhere, anytime.” She tried to force a smile, but failed. Walking away was the right thing to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. She was leaving a job that had allowed her to make a difference. And going . . . where?

“I don’t understand.” Matthew studied her for some reaction. He prodded her with one of his own. “I can get out of this. I haven’t signed the contract, and there’s plenty of time for them to find someone else.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Isn’t it obvious? For the first time we have a chance to be together. There’s no way in hell I’m going to blow that for—”

“First tell me what exactly you would be giving up. What is it about this job that has you so excited?”

He wiped his hand across his eyes as if it would help him see what was going on more clearly. “It’s a documentary that’s being funded by a consortium of environmental and wildlife rescue groups. The goal is to create a film that shows what ‘endangered’ means in a way that reaches an audience beyond those already converted. Environmentalists have been preaching to the choir too long. They need new recruits to get done what needs to get done.”

“Playing devil’s advocate here,” Lindsey said, “what could you possibly say, or show, that hasn’t been done a dozen times already? How are you going to get someone to care about some obscure frog in Australia when they don’t care that there are children all across the world being sold into brothels by their own parents?”

“Self-interest. We’re going to connect that frog to the fires that consume Australia every year and show the ongoing consequences of inaction.

“Wealth anywhere depends on consumption. Take away the consumer, for whatever reason, and industry collapses. Just look at what’s happening in China. They have a glut of consumer goods that no one wants because no one can, or will, buy them. People are listening to the doom and gloom on the news every night, and they’re reacting in the only way they know how.”

Rarely did Lindsey get caught up in Matthew’s passion for the environment. Privately, she was like most people who believed the earth was capable of perpetual self-healing and that focusing on a specific owl or whale or wolf turned people into tree-hugging fanatics who then turned people like her into skeptics.

“So what will you be doing?”

“They want a still photographer to focus on the behind-the-scenes animal shots for the text and coffee-table books. Right now I’m it. They’re looking for someone who can capture the people behind the cameras, but—”

“I can do that,” she said, surprising him almost as much as she surprised herself.

“What?”

“I’m a whole lot better taking pictures of people than you are.” It wasn’t bragging, it was fact, something they’d talked about since college. She’d tried, but had never been able to capture the animal shots Matthew took as intuitively as breathing. It was the same for him trying to capture human emotion.

As fast as the thought had arrived, it struck her that she might not be wanted. “Could you work with me? Would that be a problem? I wouldn’t just be stepping into your territory, I’d be going there in combat boots.”

“I’m having trouble wrapping my mind around this,” he said, truthfully. “Give me a couple of minutes.”

“We’ve never been together longer than a couple of months. What if we started getting on each other’s nerves?” The more she embraced the idea, the more questions she had, most of them hypothetical. “How long is this assignment?”

“Two years.”

“Wow.” It was all she could think to say. And then, “When do they want you to start?”

“The film crew is leaving for China in four months. They want me with them to document their arrival.”

“Four months . . .” It wasn’t as long as it sounded. Half of that time would be spent getting ready.

Matthew leaned forward to take his phone out of his pocket. He went through his contacts until he reached his agent, then handed Lindsey the phone.

“Put up or shut up?” she said. “You don’t think we should talk about this some more?”

“No—I’m afraid you might change your mind.”

She smiled. “Could it really be this easy?”

“You haven’t got the job yet.” He was having trouble containing his excitement.

“Want to place a little wager?”

“Do I look that dumb?”

Chapter 12

Propped against the headboard with pillows at their backs, wearing their new bathrobes, Matthew tipped the bottle of champagne, dividing the last splash between his and Lindsey’s glasses. “Congratulations,” he said.

“To both of us,” she added.

“We’re employed.”

“Together.”

He grinned. “What a concept.”

“I’ve been thinking . . .”

“Yes?”

“Where do we go from here?” She put her glass on the nightstand and curled into his side.

“Meaning?”

“Should we postpone getting married until we get back?”

“Fat chance. There’s no way I’m giving you that kind of time to change your mind.”

“I should tell my parents. A long time ago”—she looked up at him and smiled—“waaay back when I was positive there was no way I was ever going to get married, I promised my mother she could help plan my wedding.”

“Something small, I hope.”

“Just family. It’s time you got to know them better. I should probably warn you that my father thinks it’s your fault that I never see them. It doesn’t matter whether it makes sense, he can’t imagine his precious daughter would stay away for any other reason.”

“Oh great. And all this time I thought we got along fine.”

“Then my sisters and brother and their families. My sister-in-law isn’t crazy about me, but she’ll come around. After all, what’s not to love?”

“Anyone else?”

“There are some cousins my mom will want to invite.”

“Sure you don’t want to elope?”

She shook her head. “I owe this to my mom. I haven’t been the best daughter to either of them since I moved out. Maybe I can make up for it a little now.”

“What else needs to be done before we leave?”

“Sittina. I’m going to do whatever it takes to get her and her grandmother to this country.” They’d gotten a call an hour before Ekaterina’s funeral telling them that Sittina had been found and reunited with her grandmother. A small victory in the midst of all the sadness that had surrounded them.

“You’re going to need an advocate for them while we’re gone. My understanding is that with this kind of thing it’s hurry-up-and-wait and then you have days, sometimes only hours, to meet a deadline.”

The proverbial lightbulb turned on in Lindsey’s mind. “My dad would be perfect. He’s been driving my mother crazy since he retired, and this would give him something to do. Something he would love doing.”

“Next?”

“What do you mean?”

“There has to be something we’re forgetting.”

“You mean besides California?”

“I don’t see how we can fit in going back there. Not with—”

“Then we skip something else. The beach house is where we found each other again. Besides, I made a promise to Rebecca that I’m going to keep, come hell or high water. Not going back isn’t an option.”

“It means that much to you?”

“It means everything.”

“Then we’ll call it our honeymoon.”

Matthew unlocked the door to the beach house, turned to pick up Lindsey, and before she could say anything, carried her across the threshold. “How do you suppose this tradition got started?” he said as he put her down and turned to flip the light switch.

“I happen to know this one,” she said, “and you’re not going to like it. Your choice—either it’s to represent women who were kidnapped and raped who did not go to their new husband’s home willingly, or as a way to demonstrate the bride’s virginity by her reluctance to cross into the room that contained the marriage bed.”

“Can we go out and do it again? This time you can come in on your own two feet.”

She laughed, something that was becoming as easy as it had been hard in her old life. “How about if we go with the reluctant virgin thing instead? That way we could head straight for the marriage bed.”