Tempest Tossed: A Love Unexpected Novel (27 page)

Chapter 19—Rene

It surprised me that Dylan could get back to sleep so fast. I sure couldn’t. I stayed very still in his arms but my head was spinning.

For all of his declarations of love and his passionate attention, I couldn’t get it out of my head that Dylan still had an awful lot of forbidden zones. Sure, he’d told me his ‘story’ but hearing a narrative about someone’s childhood was only a first step in trying to understand it. Dylan seemed to assume that because I had the
facts
, I had all the information I needed. But that didn’t cut it with me.

Heck, I knew more about his feelings for the late Lady Delaney than I did about his family. And all my attempts to unravel the complicated web of what had happened to him
then
versus how it affected him
now
seemed to reach a point where he just shut down.

I didn’t mean to be pushy and I didn’t mean to pry. But how was I supposed to truly know him unless I asked questions? Certainly he wasn’t inclined to volunteer much and when he did he told a pretty clinical tale. Just the facts, ma’am.

The idea of me seeking out Dawn just popped out.  When the man you love is so obviously suffering it’s only natural to want to do anything to help him. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea, but he sure seemed to like it at first.

Not for the first time and probably not for the last, I promised myself that I would back off. We had been on quite a rocket ship ride straight up and it could be healthier for us to level off and enjoy just being together. One of the things Nathan had always faulted me for was that he had always felt that I needed this forward momentum in our relationship.

“You are incapable of living in the here and now,” he’d told me. “It’s never good enough for you just to take a good day and be happy with it. You always want to know ‘where we’re going’. I hate the pressure you put on me.”

The memory of his words still stung. Of course, with Nathan, I had just wanted some reassurance that maybe tomorrow would be better than today. The days he thought were ‘good’ were only tolerable to me. So, I did put pressure on him. I should have walked away instead.

I hated that I had stayed in a dysfunctional relationship and I intended to keep the promise to myself that I’d never do it again. I wasn’t going to stay with a man out of fear or out of the need to feel safe. Those were both unacceptable alternatives.

Of course I didn’t fear Dylan. I feared his devils and his storms, but not the man himself. In his arms, I did feel safe, so that wasn’t it either.

I loved the man. I loved him in a frighteningly intense way. I wanted to know everything about him and, yes, I wanted to help him beat back the sickening memories of his past so he could move on. That didn’t seem criminal.

I would have gladly told him anything he wanted to know about me. Anything. But he seemed quite content with whatever information I volunteered. He didn’t ask for more. He simply took what I said at face value and filed it wherever it was supposed to live in his complicated head.

By the time I fell asleep I had resolved to tell more and ask less. I’d give him more of me and ask for less of him. By example, that appeared to be ‘his way’. I wanted us to work.

Chapter 20—Dylan

The next morning it was almost as if the nightmare and the ensuing discussion in the wee small hours hadn't happened. Perhaps she had made some pact with herself to leave well enough alone.
Thank you, thank you, Rene.

It was going to be a hectic day. I wanted to do my best to leave Europe by nightfall. That meant flying to Ponta Delgado, connecting to Lisbon and getting on whatever would take me to the U.S.A. as quickly as possible. I’d worry about connecting to Ft. Lauderdale once I hit the States.

Ft. Lauderdale wasn’t my home but I had obligations to the crew and to Rene to spend time there tying up loose ends. There’d be the bloody insurance to wrangle with and possibly the Portuguese government. I’d have to park the art somewhere while I sorted out where I wanted to live. The paintings would need to be given a once over and any repairs attended to. Those were the easy bits.

I had two related and looming issues to confront. One was the business. The other was Dawn. I’d left in such haste that I hadn’t really ironed out what I could and couldn’t do with respect to the hotel chain. Because now that I’d had some time to mull it over, I really didn’t have a bit of interest in pursuing a career as a hotelier, mogul or otherwise. I’d gone after a job with my father because I felt the need to do something with my life other than fish and take care of a boat.

If I sold the hotels—or even if I didn’t—I now had plenty of capital to start a business myself. I had the opportunity of a lifetime to do what I wanted to do. The possibilities were endless.

I’d spent the years on El Loco drifting, emotionally, physically and spiritually. Like a rolling stone with no direction home. How did it feel? Pretty exhilarating and a little bit scary.

“Get a move on, sweet cheeks,” I yelled at the closed bathroom door. “Miles to go before we sleep.”

She opened the door, all smiles. I kissed her luscious mouth. “You look wonderful this morning.” I sang to her: “
The sun is up, the sky is blue. It’s beautiful and so are you . . .”

“Oldies on the brain?”

“For some reason, yes.”

“Nothing wrong with classics. I’m a big fan.” She picked up our one small bag and we headed out.

The first plane out of Flores put us at Ponta Delgado in plenty of time to catch a flight to Lisbon. I was very happy that I’d grabbed our passports off of El Loco. The rest of the crew had a long morning ahead of them at the U.S. consulate. I felt guilty leaving ahead of them, but there wasn’t anything more I could do for them. They’d just have to go through the steps. There were worse places to be stranded for a couple days with plenty of cash and nothing to do but eat, drink and sleep.

I’d never been to Lisbon and neither had Rene. We didn’t have any desire to linger, though. We both shared an unspoken urgency to plant our feet on familiar ground.

The big jet bound for JFK lifted us into the sky less than an hour after we landed at Lisbon’s Portela airport. We’d have a stop in London and a couple hours’ wait and finally land in New York at eleven at night. I bought a couple of electronic notebooks in duty free at Heathrow so we’d be able to use the flight time to catch up. We spent a pleasant hour or so picking out a hotel in New York City and there would be a car waiting to take us to it when we arrived.

“I could get used to this, Dylan. Every time I’ve flown, it’s been at the back of the bus. Even a midget like me feels cramped back there with the common folk.”

“Believe it or not, I haven’t done a lot of commercial flying. I’ve mostly gotten where I was going the slow way—by boat. But I’m sure it would be tough to fit these legs into any space you'd find small"

“You’d be miserable. Those long wheels of yours would be twisted like pretzels.” She stretched out over the reclining seat and purred her approval. “Money can’t buy happiness, but nobody ever said anything about comfort. First class rocks.”

Just then the flight attendant came by with fresh glasses of champagne and a tray of tempting little bites for us to nibble.

“I seem to remember a certain ‘solidly middle class’ young lady telling me she was glad I wasn’t a gazillionaire.”

“I meant it at the time. Things change.”

“You seem to be adjusting to my new circumstances pretty well.”

“Aren’t you happy that I fell for you when I thought you didn’t have two nickels to rub together?”

“Yes. Even though I’ll probably be the only one who ever believes you didn’t do it for my money.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know how people think. When I pretended to have money . . . when I was
Dylan Cruz, owner of El Loco
. . . it was simply a matter of fact that the women who were attracted to me were also very much attracted to my presumed wealth.”

“Dylan, you’re a fine man. You could have done very well on looks alone. Not to mention charm and intelligence.”

“Spoken like a woman who loves me and I thank you for it. But you can’t understand because you’ve never seen that world. The women I dated always, always wanted more than just plain old me. And many times when a girl discovered I was less ‘generous’ than she’d hoped I got dumped flat.”

“And the ones you dumped?”

“They were simply trying a different tactic. A more long term strategy, if you will. The ones I dumped tried too hard to worm their way into my life. They thought if they could make me fall in love and commit, the prize was theirs.”

“It's so sad how cynical you sound.”

“I used to be. Very.”

“So why am I different? I’m not fishing for compliments. I want to know, really. Why?”

“You come from a different world.”

“I come from South Florida.”

“How many nights a week did you spend in clubs?”

“None. I worked.”

“How many pairs of Manolo’s or Jimmy Choo’s do you own?”

“Those are shoes, right?”

I laughed so loud several heads turned our way. “Yes, my darling, they are shoe brands.” I took her petite hand and studied it. “Ever have your nails done?”

“I get a pedicure once in a while,” she said a little defensively. “There’s hardly any point in getting a manicure when you cook for a living.”

“And we’ve already established that you don’t do Brazilian wax jobs.”

“You’re making me sound like some poor little bumpkin. A working class cook with hands that smell like onions and . . .”

“Stop it. You asked me why you were different and why I’m not cynical about you. That’s part of the reason. You work for a living. You aren’t artificial or superficial. Don’t blame me for cherishing you for who you are.”

“I’m sorry. But it is a little bit of a sore spot with me. I’m not blind, you know. I worked right there on South Beach. My roommate Hannah works an office job by day and by night she could be one of the girls fighting to catch your eye.”

“Well they won’t be fighting for my attention any more. You’ll be right by my side. Not that I plan on ‘clubbing’ with you. Seems a bit pointless.”

“Or maybe you’d rather not be seen with a plain brown bird amongst all those fancy ones,” she said sadly.

“Why would you insult me like that?”

“I guess . . .” She struggled for words. “I guess now that we’re headed home it’s hitting me. I’m not going to have you all to myself on a boat or a little island. We’re going to be back in the world. I’m not sure I can compete. And especially now that you
are
the Ritchie Rich all those babes always thought you were. You’re the real deal now. A catch and a half.”

“I’m not going to dignify that with an argument.”

“Dylan, you do make me feel beautiful.”

“That might have something to do with the fact that you
are
beautiful.”

“But . . .”

“There is no but! How would you like it if I developed some sort of inferiority complex because you’re so damn smart and I’m just a guy with a generic business degree?”

“That’s never counted for much with the guys I’ve known.”

“Well it counts with me. I’m proud of how smart you are. Hell, I’m in awe. If I wanted to I could make a big deal out of how much you know that I don’t. I could tell you that I don’t belong in your world. But I don’t. Because I love you and you love me. That’s all that matters to me.”

She simply said, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I hope that’s the last I hear of plain brown bird shit. ‘Cause when you say things like that it makes me feel like you don’t hear me when I make love to you. That you don’t believe what I say.”

“I do believe you. It’s just that you see me so much differently than I’ve been used to seeing myself.”

“Do you want to go shopping in New York? We can glitz you up if it would make you feel better about yourself. We’ll get you some Jimmy Choo’s.”

“I’m going to have to work my way up to four inch heels,” she laughed. “My kitchen Birkies are actually lower than flats.”

“Anything you want, Babe. New York. Carte blanche.”

Rene was a different sort of woman, that’s for sure. But she was still a woman. A no limit shopping spree in Manhattan was an offer she couldn’t refuse.

“Would you go with me? Help me find the right kind of stuff?” She sounded like a little girl, excited and unsure at the same time.

“I’ve never gone shopping with a woman. It sounds like torture. But, for you, anything.”

“I could go to a salon. Get my hair done!”

“I promise I will lock you in your room for the rest of your life if you touch one hair on your head.”

“Wow. Okay. I didn’t know you felt that strongly about my hair.”

“It’s one of my favorite things. Your hair, your eyes, your mouth, your mind, your soul, your smile, your —“

“Can I get you anything, sir?” The flight attendant smiled down at me like she’d been listening to me and thoroughly approved.

“No, thank you,” I answered looking at Rene, “I have everything I want.”