Someone was knocking.
Sabrina rolled over in bed and put a pillow over her head. It was summer. No one went into an art gallery before noon. Most of the people here now were on vacation. Plus, it’d been a late night.
The pounding persisted until Sabrina looked at her phone. It linked to a security camera in the front of the gallery.
“It’s not even seven a.m. yet,” Mer shouted from the couch.
“Johnno?” Sabrina rubbed her eyes and looked at her phone again.
That woke her up. She tugged on shorts and a T-shirt before brushing her bedhead into a passable ponytail. A quick spritz of perfume and she shoved her tired feet into the nearest pair of shoes.
Exiting the bedroom, Sab found Mer was making coffee wearing a nightshirt she’d borrowed.
“He’s early. Get dressed,” Sabrina said.
“Who’s Johnno?” Mer asked.
“A brilliant Irish artist. The gallery is featuring him in a week. He might be confused,” Sabrina shouted as she made her way down the stairs.
Johnno waved when he saw her. The goofy tall ginger had grown a beard since she last saw him, and it was darker than the red hair under his knit cap.
She turned off the security system and opened the door.
He lifted her off of her feet into a hug. “Sabby. How are you? Gorgeous as ever. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything. I’m all off with my times.”
“No, it’s fine. How did you get here so early? Don’t tell me you paid to fly over from Boston. The ferry is cheaper,” she insisted.
He took off his cap and set down his duffle bag. “No, I borrowed a boat.”
“Borrowed?” she asked. He was in worn jeans that were actually naturally worn out, not pre-distressed and a T-shirt flaunting some Irish pub and gym shoes. So casual and easygoing for having traveled so far.
“A friend in Boston let me use it. Taught me enough to get around. I’m a quick study. The island is charming. I thought everything in America was new crap with no character.”
“Not everything. This island is an escape. You do know you’re a week early? I have your show Saturday,” she said.
He nodded. “I know but I couldn’t wait. I wanted to get a feel for the place. Maybe paint while I’m here. Inspiration hits whenever but I wanted to see you.”
She hugged him again. He was a like teddy bear full of positive vibes. “I’m glad you did.”
“Why? I detect a dip in your mood.” He pulled back and looked her in the eyes.
“Not a dip, really. My little sister is still overdoing the partying. I sampled wines in France and tried Guinness in Ireland. But she needs help. And my twin got engaged.”
“Cheers to that! Little sis needs a timeout.” Johnno smiled. “And you?”
“Me? Nothing to complain about. Another beautiful summer on the island and I get to see my sister married to a great guy.” Sabrina nodded.
“I know you mean every word of that but it’s okay to wish you had it for yourself.” Johnno nodded. “There was talk of you and an actor. Nothing came of it?”
She shook her head. “He left to take a job that turned into a three-movie deal. Good for him. He’s here now for the wedding stuff. Friend of the groom. He’ll show up for that but I’m sure he’ll find another work thing to take him away when it’s convenient to escape.”
“That is as close to a mean thing as I think I’ve ever heard you say,” he chuckled.
“No, his work takes him away. He couldn’t bother to say goodbye. I got the brush off,” she said.
“Ghosted?” Johnno wagged a fist.
“No, he replied to texts and called one or twice, then it faded. Now he wants to be friends. Well, I suggested that. I have to get along with him for the wedding.” She shrugged.
“Tell me more. Is he a good actor?” Johnno asked.
She nodded. “He is. Which makes it hard to know if he’s lying or acting or honest. I’m sorry. Where are my manners? Let’s go upstairs for coffee. Is that all your stuff? One duffel?”
“My clothes, yeah. I shipped the crate of art. Should be here soon. I travel light. You know me.” He grabbed the duffel. “Coffee sounds like heaven.”
They headed upstairs and found Mer emerging from the bathroom in her dress from last night.
“Johnno O’Leary, Irish genius artist, this is Meredith Buxton, financial guru of Boston and Nantucket.” Sabrina had been raised to properly introduce people.
Meredith reached out to shake his hand.
“Did I interrupt something?” Johnno smirked.
Sabrina smacked his arm. “She’s a Buxton. My first cousin. Men.”
“You look alike, it was a joke. She doesn’t get my jokes.” Johnno winked at Mer.
“I see. I don’t generally get her artist friends at all so don’t mind me. I’m off to help with wedding plans.” Mer waved on her way to the door that led downstairs, cheerful despite being very overdressed for an island morning.
“I should be there,” Sabrina said.
“I’m only here on the weekends, you’re here all week. Veronica and I are going to try on some dresses. You really want to listen to her whine or give your friend a tour of the island?” Mer asked.
“I do get to hear her whine all through the week as well. Fine, but explain,” Sabrina said.
“I will. I can’t wait to see your work, Mr. O’Leary.” Mer opened the door.
“Johnno, please,” he called as she left.
Sabrina poured them some coffee. “We can go out for breakfast. You can see some of the island and get a proper meal.”
He took the coffee. “Thanks. Sounds great. Now show me what you’ve done all winter.”
“Some of it is in the gallery,” she said.
He grinned and leaned against the counter. She never met anyone who made himself so at home everywhere he went.
“You never liked to share. Your work is very personal,” he said.
“Not lately. Just working through stuff.” She downed her coffee and put the mug in the sink. “Let’s go eat.”
“Americans are always in a rush. Come on, show me what you don’t want others to see.”
“I was stuck on a subject. It’s childish,” she said.
“Love isn’t childish. Heartbreak isn’t childish. It’s real. But I can’t tell you if you captured it if you won’t show me.” Johnno sipped his coffee.
She sighed and headed into her bedroom. Opening her closet door, she didn’t bother to pull them out. Johnno followed her and whistled.
“He’s a good-looking fella,” Johnno said.
“Very handsome. Not that you aren’t.” She smiled.
“I am but you are far too grand for the likes of me,” he teased.
She rolled her eyes. They’d become fast friends and he’d treated her like a little sister when she was touring Ireland, Scotland, and England. He could get a bit wild but he was sweet deep down.
He flipped on the closet light and gently looked through the canvases. “Big feelings. This the guy you met in Paris?”
She blushed. She’d met Johnno after she’d met Jason and her head was still swimming with her Paris romance. “Nothing happened.”
“So literal and American. Something happened to your heart and now you’re hurting. I’d like to punch him in the throat,” Johnno said.
“No fighting. If you want to brawl in a pub, head back to Boston, please,” she said.
“My people are still a presence there,” he teased.
“And traditions live on but this island is small and people talk. Finish your coffee, I’m hungry,” she said.
“I’m ready see this island you raved out,” he said.
“Wedding plans already?” Jason asked Sean as they sat in the café.
“A few months is apparently not a lot of time in wedding planning.” Sean waved.
Jason turned to see Sabrina with a casually dressed but not ugly man. “Who’s that?”
“No clue,” Sean replied quietly.
“Good morning. Are you two hiding from the wedding planners?” Sab asked.
“More directed to stay out of the way. I understand dress talk is priority one so they don’t need me anyway. Sorry, Sean Drake.” Sean extended a hand.
“Johnno O’Leary,” the man replied. “You’re marrying Tabitha? Congratulations.”
“You know her?” Sean asked.
“No, but I heard a ton about her from Sabby here.” Johnno hooked his arm around her shoulders.
Sabby?
“Jason Carlton.” Jason stood and the men shook hands.
“The actor. I’ve seen you a bit.” Johnno nodded.
“We should get a table. He’s starving, just got in this morning.” Sabrina turned away.
Jason nearly grabbed her arm. She didn’t owe him any explanations.
“You can join us,” Jason said casually.
“Please,” Sean said.
“We wouldn’t want to intrude. We’ll just be talking art and catching up. But thank you,” Sabrina said.
“He’s an artist? From Ireland? You met him when you were traveling around Europe?” Jason asked.
“Yes. Excuse me,” Sab said.
Johnno smirked. “Did you think you were the only person she met? We’re a very friendly people.”
“Nice to meet you,” Sean said.
Jason ignored the look his friend was shooting at him.
“If that was acting as though you were not jealous or threatened, you can give up on an Oscar,” Sean said.
“I can never fool you,” Jason said.
“You’re not fooling anyone. Least of all Johnno. He was prodding you. Of course, she met other people. Other men. So?” Sean shrugged.
“You saw him. Casual and not ugly. An artist, probably showing at the gallery. He’ll be around Tabitha,” Jason warned.
“Whom I trust, and I have no reason to think Johnno is at all on the make.”
“He had his arm around her,” Jason muttered.
“She’s single. If you’re going to go on like this, I’ll go find work to do or drag you to pick out tuxes.” Sean pulled out his phone.
“I’m sorry, I just know how free and easy some artists are. I don’t want him taking advantage and then hurting her,” Jason said.
“Rephrasing your argument won’t work. She’s not a teenager. You’re getting on my nerves,” Sean said.
“You’re not helping me. I’m your oldest friend. You’re supposed to be on my side,” Jason pointed out.
Sean leaned in. “I am on your side but you think the world revolves around you. I get that your work takes you places and the promotional demands don’t give you much time off but the world doesn’t stop because you’ve arrived. Your presence doesn’t make all other men obsolete or into trolls.”
“I’m not that sort of egomaniac,” Jason defended.
“Only when it comes to Sabrina. You want all of her attention and interest but you’re not giving her the same.” Sean set his empty coffee cup toward the end of the table then sipped on a glass of water.
“I do give her my attention when I’m here,” Jason argued.
“When you’re here. When it’s convenient for you. That’s not how a relationship works. Skype, Facetime, phone, texts—there’s no excuse for not bothering to contact Sabrina. You weren’t in a coma or on a trip to the Arctic. Everyone thinks you acted like a self-centered jerk, but because you’re a celebrity I’m the only one who’ll tell you.” Sean shook his head. “You want her back—you’d better be sure you’re going to go the distance and figure out how to balance Sab with your work.”
“I’m not ready to propose. I’m at a critical stage in my career and I’m trying to keep the momentum.. Sabrina has money, but I refuse to live off my wife. So I need to earn a living. It’s a rock and a hard place.”
Sean sat back. “Do you hear yourself? Wife? She’s not even your girlfriend. You’re barely friends right now. You have to work, yes. But if you can’t figure out how to manage your work and her life here—you won’t ever have anything but a friendship.”
“You’re right.” Jason took a long drink of his water.
Sean nodded.
“What’s wrong with me? I’m never jealous. She brought him here on purpose,” Jason said.
“He’s free to travel around.” Sean texted and his phone binged with a reply. “Tabitha says he has a show at the gallery next week. He came in a bit early but they were expecting him.”
“Thanks.” Jason relaxed a bit that it was mostly business and not a romantic drop-in.
“Don’t thank me. Sort your stuff out. You’re not over her. Settle this because if you ruin my wedding, you’ll answer to my mother and mother-in-law and I won’t protect you.”
Jason knew how credible that threat was. Sean’s mom was a force and Mrs. Buxton...
“I’ll figure it out,” Jason replied.
“Good. Sabrina won’t stay single if she doesn’t want to. She’s not waiting around for you like a puppy,” Sean reminded his friend.
“I know, but I was up late with Chris following Veronica around,” Jason countered.
Sean smiled. “I know you want to help but it’s not a romantic comedy. You won’t save the day by saving her sister and then Sab falls into your arms. You actually have to figure out the mundane and annoying parts of life.”
“I have an assistant for that,” Jason said.
Sean laughed. “Then put him to work but he can’t win Sab for you. You’re a couple of artists who think it all falls into place or it’s doomed. You’ll suffer for your art but won’t put in the work with people?”
His friend had a point. Jason was a bit of a romantic. Even knowing how ugly and dirty Hollywood really was, he trusted life would bring him the right parts and the right people. Maybe he’d always expected the universe to do all the hard work for him, waiting around until things fell effortlessly into his lap.
“People...” Jason mused.
“I’m not getting into a philosophical debate with you,” Sean said.
“But how do I know people like me for me? Not my fame?” Jason asked.
Sean sighed. “How does she know you like her for her and not her millions? You have to trust someone sometime. Or you’ll be lonely.”
“I hate when you’re right,” Jason muttered.
“You can run. Find a new movie and never call her,” Sean said.
Jason shook his head. “No, I’m not running this time.”
Sean nodded. Jason knew his friend didn’t believe him yet. For now, Jason knew he had to find a way to talk to Sabrina alone.