My parents drove Nick and me to the airport on Thursday morning. When we arrived, Liliana’s mother and father were seated in the waiting area, their faces masks of apprehension. Not surprising, as they were about to place their lives in the hands of a pilot they had met for the first time only three days earlier.
Mom smiled and spoke in reassuring tones, most likely pointing out that Nick was an excellent pilot who had flown us all the way from California in safety and comfort. When she finished, the Ferreras nodded, but still appeared anxious. It touched my heart to know they would face any fear for the chance to see their injured son and to carry on the search for their missing daughter.
I had tucked my Portuguese phrase book and dictionary in my purse, knowing we’d be faced with a language barrier for the duration of the flight. The Ferreras were subdued and quiet most of the way, either from anxiety about flying or sadness about their children. They even dozed for the final few hours. The four-hour time difference put us in Boston at ten in the morning. When we landed, they stayed with me while Nick arranged parking for the plane. We reached our hotel at eleven and found Grandpa and Tanya waiting for us in the dining area.
We had decided to meet there for brunch because Grandpa Machado spoke enough Portuguese to help with translating for the Ferreras. He explained to them that there were large enclaves of Portuguese in Boston, most of them bilingual. Grandpa had already identified three Portuguese-speaking members of the hotel staff who could help the Ferreras out if they needed anything while Nick and I were attending the play that evening.
Tanya pulled two tickets to Bus Stop from her purse, saying they were the best seats in the house. When we offered to reimburse her, she said it wasn’t necessary. They were complimentary because she and Tony were members of the cast.
The Ferreras seemed content to retire to their room after brunch. They were no doubt fatigued from the flight and the constant worry about Liliana and Paulo. I hoped they would be able to rest.
Nick and I checked into our room and made use of our cellphones. I called my parents first to say we’d arrived safely, and then gave Amah and Jack a capsule version of our past four days. Next I called Cleo, but she was in a meeting and unavailable.
Nick contacted Buck at his hotel across town to arrange the time of our flight back to California the next morning. When he finished his call, I asked if he had filled Buck in about the yacht.
“Did you tell him about the Bay Wind burgee?”
“I did.” Nick flopped down next to me on the king-sized bed and kicked off his shoes. “I asked if he knew anyone at his yacht club with a vessel matching the description we have of the superyacht.”
“What did he say?”
“He’s seen a few come and go, but he doesn’t know much about any of them or their owners. He pointed out that it was a stretch to assume the burgee you saw painted on the Horta Marina floor was related to the yacht in question.” Nick must have read disappointment in my eyes. He put an arm around my shoulders. “Hey, don’t let that bother you. He was making a point, playing devil’s advocate, but he’s on our side.”
We had a few hours to spare before the play, but Nick was tired from flying, and I was feeling more morose than romantic. Sitting together on the bed, we agreed that our best use of the time would be a refreshing nap.
Later, we met Liliana’s parents for dinner in the hotel restaurant. Afterward, we escorted them safely back to their room, where we posted the names of the Portuguese-speaking staff members on a list next to the desk phone.
Nick and I took a taxi to the theater, found our seats in the center of the second row, and settled in. While the theater filled, we flipped through our programs. I spotted a name I recognized on the page listing cast and crew, did a double-take, and looked at Nick to see if he had noticed it. He was looking over my head at the person who had entered our row and settled in the empty seat next to mine. I turned to see who it was just as Nick stood, leaned over me, and extended his hand.
“Hello,” Nick said. “You’re Aimee’s friend, James O’Brien, aren’t you?”
“That’s right.” James reached out to shake the offered hand. “And you’re Nick … um, Alexander, isn’t it?”
I sat between them, watching their clasped hands in front of my face, while the moment seemed to stretch on and on. By the time their handshake finally ended, I had regained enough composure to speak calmly.
“James, I just noticed your name in the program. I had no idea you directed this production.”
“That’s my fault,” he said. “I told your grandfather and Tanya I might not make it to this closing night performance. I thought if I was able to be here, it would be fun to surprise you.”
“You definitely pulled it off,” Nick said. “Hell of a surprise. Right, Aimee?” Nick’s smile wasn’t his best effort. His body language remained carefully neutral.
Fun wasn’t exactly how I would have described the surprise. It had only been eight months since James flew out to Timbergate from New York during the investigation of his brother’s murder. He’d been my girlhood crush about a dozen years ago, and our renewed acquaintance had been a major distraction to the grown-up me. That had been an uncertain time for Nick and me, since we were struggling with where we stood as a couple. Back then, Nick seemed to sense that James could be a serious rival. With Nick and me on solid ground and James a continent away, he had ceased to be an issue.
Even so, sitting between them, my tension level rose immediately. I cast around for some way to relieve it.
“James, I am surprised to see you here in Boston. I thought most of your work was based closer to New York.”
“There are Equity theaters all over the country that need directors,” James said. “I go where the work is.”
Nick leaned forward to say, “You said you weren’t sure you’d be here. Do you usually attend every performance of the plays you direct?”
“Not at all,” James said. “Although that is common in amateur community theater playhouses. In the world of professional theater, the director’s job is finished once the play opens.”
“But you’re here tonight,” I said.
“Closing nights are different. I always try to make them. I usually bring token gifts for the cast and crew. Attend the cast party, that sort of thing.”
I’d forgotten about the cast party. Grandpa had invited us to attend, but I wondered if Nick would be up for it.
I noticed James hadn’t brought a date, but I wasn’t going to ask him about that. Not in front of Nick. Once the play began, Nick settled back into his seat on my left, and James did the same on my right. I tried to concentrate on the play and ignore the waves of testosterone that seemed to surround me. James had done well. The production was flawless and the cast was doing a fine job. Grandpa and Tanya were the best, of course.
During intermission, James headed backstage while Nick and I stretched our legs by walking out to the lobby.
“Quite a surprise seeing your old pal James,” Nick said. “Do you suppose he had something to do with us being seated next to him?”
“I don’t know. They were comp tickets in the VIP section. Maybe it was a coincidence.” I didn’t want to admit that I’d thought the same thing. Just how did we end up there?
I had a chance to ask James when I got back to my seat. Nick was still out in the lobby, tied up on a phone call with Buck, discussing our morning flight to California.
“These are great seats,” I said. “Did you have anything to do with that?”
“Guilty. When I heard you might be coming, I made sure you and Nick would have the best seats in the house.” The house lights dimmed momentarily and James glanced around at the people returning to their seats. Neither of us spotted Nick.
“Thank you,” I said. “That was thoughtful.” Except for sitting next to us, I added silently.
“The least I could do, considering what both of you did for our family last year.”
“We were glad to help.” My throat tightened, remembering that difficult time. The lights dimmed again, second warning.
“Aimee,” James said in a low, serious tone, “I’ve thought about you a lot since all of that happened. I want you to look me in the eye while I ask this one last time.” My stomach fluttered, but I did as he asked. “Are you sure he’s the right choice?”
Was he saying he was the other choice? I looked away for a fraction of a second, searching the room for Nick. He was nowhere in sight. I looked back at James. “Nick and I are back together, and it’s working. I don’t know what else to say.”
“I haven’t heard anything about a wedding in your future. I thought by now you’d be thinking of starting a family.” James seemed determined to look for evidence of any shortcomings in my relationship with Nick.
“We’re not in a hurry.” I felt my face flush. “I could ask the same about you. You must have found a special woman by now.”
“ ’Fraid not.” He leaned in close and said softly, “I had one in mind, but she isn’t available.”
His implication was too obvious to ignore. “I’m sorry to hear that, James. I’m sure you’ll find the right person, and you’ll be as happy as Nick and I are. We’re committed to each other, and that’s enough for now.”
“Okay, then. I’ll take your word for it, but that doesn’t stop me from stepping in as your big brother if I get wind that there’s trouble in paradise.”
I had to smile at that. I was the oldest sibling in my family. I’d always been Harry’s big sister, playing the role of protector. “I’m going to take you up on that,” I said. I leaned over and brushed a sisterly kiss on James’s cheek—just in time to see Nick walking down the aisle toward us with a clenched jaw and wrinkled brow. Had he seen the kiss? Or was something else troubling him?
The second act was even better than the first, but the tension between Nick, James, and me put a damper on my enjoyment. Afterward, we went backstage to congratulate Grandpa and Tanya and decline their invitation to the cast party. Considering the tension with James, the party was off the table. And Nick was flying us across the country in the morning; he needed a good night’s sleep, alcohol free. We said our goodbyes with hugs and kisses and headed back to our hotel room.
We checked in with the concierge, who told us the staff had called the Ferreras several times to make sure they were comfortable. It was late, past eleven. We didn’t want to risk waking them if they’d managed to get to sleep, so we went directly to our room. Nick slipped off his shoes and flopped down on the bed.
“You and O’Brien seemed to enjoy your surprise reunion tonight. I take it you had no warning he’d be there.”
“No. I had no idea.” I eased onto my side of the bed, plumping the pillows behind my back. “I didn’t even know he’d directed the play until I saw the Playbill.”
“Your grandfather knows how to keep a secret.” Nick reached over and took my hand. Flashing a grin, he added, “I realize James O’Brien is an old family friend, but I have to admit, I’d have enjoyed the play a lot more if he’d brought his own date instead of sharing mine.”
This was the conversation I’d hoped to avoid, but I figured, in for a dime, in for a dollar. “He is a family friend, Nick. That’s all he is.”
“So that explains the friendly kiss?”
Damn. “Of course. It was the least I could do after he ….”
“After he what?” Nick raised his eyebrows. “Sounds like I missed something.”
“He has this big brother thing about me. He just wanted to make sure you and I are okay.”
“No, Aimee, he wants to make sure you’re okay. He doesn’t give a rat’s behind about me.” Nick looked down where our hands were still intertwined and rubbed the back of mine with his thumb. “I don’t blame him. If I were in his place, I’d be doing the same.”
“I told him you and I are together and that we’re happy.” In the silence that followed, we heard the muffled sounds of the TV in the next room, then soft laughter.
“We are happy, aren’t we?” Nick gently pulled me to him. “Let’s celebrate that.”