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“I’M SORRY MRS. LOGAN, but the biopsy came back positive.” The doctor placed her fingertips on the chart in front of her and looked up. “You have cancer.”
Ariana blinked several times, trying to concentrate on the doctor’s words. There must be something wrong with her, because all she felt was pity for the woman across the desk. It must be so difficult to come to work each day, knowing there was a good chance she’d have to inform someone that their life was about to change.
The doctor droned on. “...ductal carcinoma in situ...” “...non-invasive form of breast cancer...” “referral to oncologist...”
Ariana wondered if it would be possible to snatch the phrases from the air and slip them into her purse. Then she’d bring them out later and examine them at her leisure. But they were out there now, floating around, and she couldn’t reel them in. She found herself strangely removed from the scene as the doctor continued.
Ariana wasn’t surprised... not really. She’d been holding her breath, expecting these results every year for the past four years – longer, actually.
“I know this is a shock, but we need to move things along and get you an appointment with an oncologist as soon as possible.”
That’s where you’re wrong, thought Ariana with a faint smile. I’m not shocked at all. Ever since the woman at the mammogram screening site asked me to come back for a do-over, I’ve known that this was the year. The technicians were experts at hiding behind their professional masks, but this time had been different. The expression on her face had given her away... in some ways it was a relief not to have to watch for that flash of pity any longer.
I could probably squeeze out a few tears, she thought irrationally. It might make me seem more normal. But she was tired of doing what was expected of her.
The doctor gave her an odd look, and for the first time in ages Ariana didn’t care what someone else thought.
“You’ll have a lot of questions,” said the doctor kindly. “My receptionist will give you some literature on the way out and I recommend that you read it before your appointment with the oncologist.” She leaned forward. “At times like this, we like to recommend that you take someone with you to that first appointment. With two of you there, you’re more likely to remember what’s been said.” She glanced down at the chart. “Will your husband be able to accompany you, do you think?”
Ariana nodded. “Oh, yes.” The truth was she had no idea, but she wasn’t going to let the doctor in on that little secret. Pictures of the smiling couple were plastered all over town. It wouldn’t do to shatter the illusion. No, it wouldn’t do at all.
* * *
“THAT WENT WELL.” ARIANA spoke aloud as she walked toward her car in the parking lot, several brochures clutched in her hand. She had taken some sort of perverse delight in not crying when the doctor gave her the news. Why she was playing games at this point, she had no idea. No... wait... she did know. Her emotions were one of the few things she had control over and she desperately needed to be in control of something. Too bad it had taken breast cancer for that to happen.
She slid behind the wheel of her car, wondering where to go from here. Having been fairly sure of the outcome of the biopsy, she’d cleared her morning but had no idea what to do with the unaccustomed freedom.
Her hand trembled as she tried to fit the key in the ignition. Okay, perhaps she wasn’t as together as she liked to think. “You can do this,” she said aloud. That made twice today she’d talked to herself, and twice today she didn’t care. Things were looking up.
The car seemed to have a mind of its own... or was it merely tuned in to her thoughts? She found herself traveling one of her favourite routes around the outside of James Bay. Past waterfront hotels, slowing for the clip-clop of horse-drawn wagons full of tourists, past exclusive waterfront condos, past the docks where a massive white cruise ship disgorged travellers eager to spend money on Government Street, and then to Dallas Road, with the ocean on one side and high rise apartments on the other.
She pulled into one of the angled parking spaces just past the duck pond, where an older gentleman guided his model sailboat via remote. She watched him for several moments, clearing her mind of everything except the pleasure on the man’s face as the sails caught a puff of wind and filled.
Stepping out of the car, she glanced up. The sky was blue, but the weather here in Victoria could change at a moment’s notice, and she grabbed a jacket from the back seat and headed for the walking path.
She thought of him every time she came here. It had never occurred to her before, but maybe that’s why she kept coming back... the innocent, happy memories. Peter Marshall had been her first boyfriend in high school. They had dated for two years – a long time back then – and they had come here often, usually on Sunday afternoons. In the spot just ahead, where the windswept bushes arched over the path, he’d kissed her for the first time. Odd how the only time she thought of him was when she came here, but she could still recall the sweetness of that first kiss, the gentle sweep of his tongue as he probed at her lips. Recently a business associate had told her that Peter had become a successful yacht broker in Vancouver, and that he and his wife had twin boys. Peter had been one of the good guys; he deserved to be happy and fulfilled.
Rounding a corner, she saw that her favourite bench was free. Sitting on a narrow strip of land between the pathway and the drop-off to the ocean below, the bench faced the water, and on a clear day like today, the Olympic Mountains of Washington State shimmered in the distance.
If Ariana’s friend Jodi were here, she would advise her to breathe, among other things. Jodi was never shy when it came to handing out advice, but in this case it made sense. Eyes closed, Ariana inhaled deeply, and then exhaled through her mouth, as Jodi had taught her. A few more calming breaths and she’d be ready to unlock the door in her mind and let her thoughts run free. She had to deal with them sooner or later, and this was as good a spot as any.
What was it about getting cancer that forced you to face life? Silly question. At twenty-eight, she’d thought herself mature, but it wasn’t until she’d discovered a lump during a routine self-exam in the shower that something had clicked. Up until then, she’d been what psychologists like to call a pleaser. She’d lived her life worrying about what others would think rather than what was good for her. She couldn’t change the past, but she’d made a solemn promise to herself that if the biopsy came back positive, she would take a clear, cold look at her future. The habits of a lifetime wouldn’t be easy to change, but it was her lifetime at stake, and breast cancer was a powerful incentive.
Ariana had known for years that there was a high likelihood she would get cancer. She’d learned about breast cancer first hand at the age of sixteen when her mother died. Her aunt on her mother’s side had died two years before her mother, and four years ago her older sister Melanie had succumbed.
After the death of her mother, Ariana and her sister had become close. They spoke almost every day, and when Melanie reported that her cancer had metastasized through her lymph nodes, Ariana delayed her wedding to Jeremy so the sisters could spend more time together. Looking back, that had been the first and last time she’d gone against Jeremy’s wishes. Of course they were married now, and her sister was a memory, so in the end, her husband got what he wanted – her undivided attention.
She sighed and pulled her jacket around her shoulders. Could she be strong now? Sea otters frolicked in the seaweed below, but lost in thought, Ariana didn’t notice. Overwhelmed by the enormity of what was to come, she rocked back and forth, ignoring the sparkling ocean just yards away, and the constant flow of walkers and joggers at her back.
BLAINE BENNETT PARKED by the cruise ship terminal and studied the ship docked there as he did a few quick stretches. Like many young couples, he and Erin had dreamed about taking a cruise, thinking there would be plenty of time when they were older. He hadn’t known back then that all it would ever be was a dream. A dream that would never be fulfilled.
He scowled at the ship and started running, trying to moderate his speed. Erin had been gone for well over two years now, but that didn’t stop him from the crushing guilt that swamped him every time he looked at another woman. And last night he’d done more than look... a lot more. None of his friends knew that he’d gone without a woman for this long. If they had, they would have made it their business to get him laid. They wanted him to be happy – he knew that – but one thing he refused to discuss was his sex life – even when it had been non-existent.
But something had happened last night when Amber walked into the bar where they’d been watching the Stanley Cup finals. She was beautiful but not flashy and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her pale, porcelain skin and dark hair resembled Erin so much his heart ached and he’d turned away, determined to ignore her. But he’d eventually turned back, reeled in by those mesmerizing eyes. She hadn’t flirted, but the slow, knowing smile had been his undoing, and before he could stop himself he’d left his beer on the table and walked over to where she was sitting with some friends.
“Hi” she said, her husky voice doing strange things to his insides. “Took you long enough.”
He couldn’t think of anything intelligent to say, so he’d just smiled and hoped she hadn’t noticed how his jeans were suddenly too tight.
Later, as they lay in bed, her hair spilled on his chest, she told him that she’d decided to sleep with him the moment she saw him. There hadn’t been any question in her mind; she’d known she wanted him. Raising herself on one elbow, she traced the tattoo that started on the side of his neck, ran over and around his shoulder, and ended halfway down his bicep. “I do like a man with a tattoo,” she’d murmured, her tongue following the path of her finger.
For one wild, insane moment as he made love to her for the third time, Blaine saw Erin’s face. But like a man stranded in the desert who finally comes upon water, he couldn’t stop. And to make matters worse, he’d made plans to see her again. No wonder he hated himself right now.
His breathing became ragged as he neared his favourite spot on the trail. Here, at the edge of the Pacific, the wind gusted off the ocean, causing an updraft. At this time of year, swallows rode the air currents, swooping and jinking, catching bugs for their young. He paused at his usual spot to admire them for a few moments, the ultimate flyers, wild and free.
As he turned to continue, he spotted a woman sitting on the bench where he’d sat many times, thinking about Erin. Small and delicate, she had a jacket wrapped around her shoulders and was hunched over, rocking back and forth in an almost undetectable motion. Although he couldn’t see her face, there was something about her that was familiar. Long blonde hair swirled around her head but she ignored it, staring out to sea.
Was she all right? He looked up and down the deserted path, worried for her safety. This was historically a safe area, but there was something vulnerable about her... something that made him want to gather her in his arms and protect her.
And yet instinct told him she wouldn’t welcome interference. He jogged in place for several minutes, then ran backwards for a few steps before turning and continuing on. He only had a quarter of a mile to go before it was time to turn around. If she was still there when he came back, he’d approach her and ask if she was all right.
ARIANA ROSE FROM THE bench and stood for a few moments on unsteady legs. It was telling, she thought, that at one of the major turning points of her life she didn’t want to talk to Jeremy. Come to think of it, there were very few times recently when she willingly entered into conversation with her husband. In the last few months, he’d belittled everything that came out of her mouth. His constant criticism was draining, both emotionally and physically. Perhaps when she told him about the cancer diagnosis he would turn back into the caring, considerate man she’d met all those years ago. A disbelieving snort escaped her lips as she pulled her jacket closer and walked toward her car. These days, Jeremy Logan’s interests included nothing that didn’t benefit him directly. She’d be foolish to lose sight of that fact.
* * *
ARIANA TURNED ONTO Cook Street and headed for her office. Cambridge Realty had been started by two men – her father, Joseph Ryan and Aaron Logan, Jeremy’s father. The two men had been friends and business partners for many years, and had built the real estate company into one of the most successful in Victoria. When Jeremy’s father died unexpectedly of a heart attack six years ago, Ariana’s father had seen the writing on the wall. Missing his old friend, and tired of living alone, he’d retired and remarried in the space of a year. The office building had been constructed on land owned by Ariana’s father, resulting in the business being owned 55 percent by him, and 45 percent by Jeremy’s father. Ownership was now split in the same percentages between Ariana and Jeremy. As she neared the half-acre lot in a prime spot in the Cook Street Village, she couldn’t help but ask herself which Jeremy cared for more: her or the business.
Ariana slowed in front of the free-standing building, but knew she couldn’t go in. Not yet. Especially with Kathryn Logan sitting at the receptionist’s desk. Jeremy’s mother had been with the firm since the beginning. Her encyclopedic memory of real estate transactions was remarkable, but she was a bitter, unpleasant woman who reminded Ariana of a piranha. Blood in the water was her signal to go in for the kill; it wasn’t a pretty sight.
Proud of her decision to avoid the office, Ariana made her way slowly around the Empress to Government Street, then continued to Wharf Street, where Jodi’s studio awaited. A visit with Jodi was precisely what she needed. There was nothing she could say that would shock her friend; as a matter of fact Jodi would be insulted if Ariana didn’t practice her “I have cancer” speech on her first.
Horns blared as Ariana signaled for a left turn. Left turns were not technically allowed here. She usually went around the block to turn around, but today was a day for flaunting the rules.
“Yes!” she said aloud as a cab driver stopped and jerked his thumb. She waved a thank you and turned onto the steep ramp leading down to the water level.
Arranging the sale of the building to Jodi had been one of Ariana’s first deals as a licensed realtor. It had also been one of the most satisfying transactions of her career. Not because of the commission, but because Jodi appreciated the history behind the building, and was determined to preserve as much of the original structure as possible.
Victoria’s rich history included being a jumping-off spot for miners heading for the Fraser Valley gold rush in 1858, as well as the 1862 Cariboo gold rush. As miners flooded in, swelling the population from 500 to 20,000 in a matter of a few years, building materials had been at a premium. Bricks used as ballast in some of the old sailing ships were used to construct many buildings along Wharf Street. One of the originals, Jodi’s building was not only rich with history, but aesthetically pleasing with its walls of raw brick. Every time Ariana drove along the waterfront, her imagination conjured up visions of horses, carts and miners mingling with Chinese laborers, all struggling through the quagmire that had been Wharf Street in those days.
She parked and looked up at the building, wincing at the pink neon sign advertising Jodi’s business. Incongruous against the antique bricks, Ariana had never had the nerve to ask her friend if she’d ordered it as a joke. Since she was unwilling to risk hurting her friend’s feelings, the answer to that question would remain a mystery.
New Beginnings fitness studio overlooked Victoria harbour and had been a success from the moment Jodi opened the doors. A surprising number of people lived in the area, and that fact, combined with the lack of parking, meant that many of Jodi’s customers walked to their workout. But the biggest draw was Jodi herself. A self-described fitness fanatic, she worked her private clients relentlessly, and her capacity for compassion was immense. The two women had been friends since meeting in the schoolyard many years ago. Thinking of that day, Ariana smiled. An older child had been pushing her around and Jodi had come to her rescue, running the girl off, then turning on Ariana, eyes flashing. “You gotta stand up for yourself,” she said, looking Ariana up and down. “Especially if we’re going to be friends. So get with the program.”
Ariana still couldn’t match Jodi’s saucy attitude, but their friendship had mellowed with age, and Jodi hardly ever brought her up short any more.
“Hi,” she said, stepping out of the elevator. Jodi was behind the counter, peering at a computer screen. “Do you have time for lunch?”
Her friend’s eyes narrowed for just a moment. Ariana wouldn’t ask her to leave the studio at this time of day unless there was a good reason, and Jodi knew it. “Sure. I’ll just go and ask Chrissy to keep an eye on the desk.” She came out from behind the counter and spoke to a young woman who was working with a client. “All right, let’s go. It’ll have to be somewhere informal with me dressed like this, but something tells me you don’t care.” Jodi’s built-in radar rivaled that of NORAD; Ariana had given up trying to keep anything from her a long time ago.
“Hi Trang.” Jodi greeted the diminutive Vietnamese man with a broad smile. “Is that little table out on the balcony available?”
The owner smiled and led them outside. The sheltered table was perfect for a quiet conversation. “Do you think we could have a couple of bowls of that delicious noodle soup you gave me last time?” she asked before he scurried away. “And a pot of tea, please.”
They sat and she turned to Ariana. “Sorry to take over like that, but now we won’t be bothered with people shoving menus in our face.” She took a good look at her friend. “Speaking of faces, you look like hell. Spit it out.”
A float plane pulled away from a nearby dock, offering a moment’s reprieve. If Ariana didn’t put it in words, it didn’t exist... right? The sound faded away and she raised her eyes to meet Jodi’s determined stare. “I have breast cancer.”
Jodi’s only response was a slight tightening around the mouth. A few silent moments later, Ariana wondered if she’d actually said the words out loud. But she knew her friend well, and waited.
“Okay,” Jodi said at last. “We’ve got this, right?”
Ariana nodded. “Right.”
She relayed everything the doctor had told her, watching as Jodi took the information on board. For all her tough girl exterior, Jodi had an analytical mind. “So we don’t really know where you’re at until you see the oncologist.” She nodded, waiting for her friend to agree.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“And then we’ll really know where we’re at.”
Ariana closed her eyes for a moment and some of the tension drained from her shoulders. There had been many times during their long friendship that she had resented Jodi’s inclination to take over, but today she was grateful. When Jodi said “we”, anything became possible, and for the first time since leaving the doctor’s office, Ariana felt a glimmer of hope.
“They’ll want Jeremy to go to the oncologist’s office, of course.” Jodi cut to the chase. “I’d go with you, you know that, but it should be him. It’s going to be tough, so if he hears the details from the doctor, at least he can’t accuse you of exaggerating or whatever.”
“That wasn’t nice.”
Jodi brushed off her objection with a wave of her hand and leaned both elbows on the small table. “Listen to me, my friend. This is your life we’re talking about, so no more bullshit about Jeremy Logan, okay?” She looked up as their server brought tea and poured. Then she glared into the teacup as though it had personally offended her. “Before you ask, it’s nothing I’ve heard. Quite the opposite, in fact. It’s what I haven’t heard.” She took a deep breath. “I haven’t heard you mention Jeremy in that lovey-dovey voice for a couple of years now. You already know I’m not crazy about the man, but he’s your choice, and I decided a long time ago to keep my mouth shut about him. But this is about more than hurting your feelings by forgetting your anniversary.”
Ariana looked up sharply, but Jodi continued. “I didn’t mention it because what would it prove? I already know I’m right about him, so what did I have to gain by bringing it up? The old “I told you so’ routine doesn’t give me any pleasure. But we’re at war now. That’s the only way I can deal with this cancer business... face it head on.” She reached across the table and took Ariana’s hand. “I’m here for you, all the way, but you already know that.”
Ariana nodded, unable to speak.
“Have you told Jackie?”
“No, not yet. I wanted to practice on you, first.”
Jodi thought for a moment. “Maybe tell her after you’ve seen the oncologist. She might be a little miffed that you didn’t tell her first, but she’ll get over it. You’re lucky to have such a cool grandmother.”
“Yes, I know.” Ariana’s gaze drifted out over the harbour. “I’ve always looked up to her. When I was small I thought she could do no wrong... still think that way as a matter of fact. These days she’s even more formidable, with her snowy white hair, her ‘good’ pearls and her designer clothes.”
“Not to mention her considerable fortune.”
Ariana shrugged. “I never think about that. But there’s something about Jacqueline Beaumont I’ve never told you.”
Jodi tipped her head sideways and waited.
“You must never let on that I’ve told you this, but I discovered a couple of years ago that she swears like a drunken sailor.”
“Get out!”
“I’m serious. I dropped in on her one evening and she’d been drinking. That in itself surprised me, but she’d gotten herself all worked up about something. I can’t even remember what it was right now, but the words that came out of her mouth were pithy, to say the least.”
Jodi sat back. “That’s perfect. I knew I liked that woman.”
“Really?” She raised an eyebrow. “It scared the you-know-what out of me.”
“Listen to you,” said Jodi with a laugh. “You’ve just told me that the elegant Jacqueline Beaumont swears and you won’t even say ‘crap’.”
Ariana bristled. “So?”
“Don’t get all huffy. It’s just funny, that’s all.”
Ariana acknowledged her friend’s comment with a smile. “She’s never done it again, though. I guess it was a one-off.” She picked up her chopsticks, examined them and then set them carefully across her bowl. “I’m lucky I have you two on my team.”
Jodi grinned and picked up her own chopsticks. “You’ve got that right. Now eat your damn noodles.”
BLAINE ROLLED HIS STOOL back, flexed his shoulders and examined the afternoon’s work. Today had been his third session with this client. One more to go, and the intricate tattoo would be finished.
“Thanks, man.” The customer studied the new ink in a hand-held mirror. “By the way, were you able to do anything for my friend? I sent him over to see you... Marvin Nichols.”
Blaine tried not to show his distaste. While he didn’t expect to like every customer, there were some who rubbed him the wrong way, and this customer was one of them. The man had some outlandish notion that he could wrangle himself a discount because he’d referred a buddy. As if that would happen in this lifetime. Blaine’s schedule was booked solidly for as far ahead as he allowed; even a consultation was hard to come by. INK ME was the most popular studio on Vancouver Island. He surrounded himself with talented artists who specialized in a variety of styles, but his designs and work commanded a premium, and he was worth every dollar he charged.
“’Fraid not.” He made an appropriate face. “He wasn’t ready.”
His customer started to object, but Blaine cut him off with a polite but firm shake of his head. “I don’t do tattoos when I know the customer will regret it. Maybe not next week, or next month, but eventually he’ll regret it. Ink isn’t something you slap on because you’re momentarily inspired, or as in the case of your friend, temporarily heartbroken.”
The knucklehead didn’t seem to understand. “But it’s all business, man.”
Blaine managed to hold himself back. “Perhaps for someone else, but not for me.” He gestured to the front of the shop. “If you’d like to see Zoey on the way out, she’ll set you up with your next appointment.”
He was still seething when a familiar voice reached him over the partition.
“Where is the great man? Or do I need an appointment?”
“Someone get that red-headed freak out of my shop,” Blaine ordered, coming out of his cubicle and enveloping his friend in a fierce hug. “Good to see you man. Missed you.”
A weapons engineering technician with the Canadian Armed Forces, Shaun Foster and Blaine Bennett had become friends several years ago when they both participated in a marathon for charity. Shaun’s easygoing exterior masked a keen intellect; the friends were more alike than either realized. Shaun’s latest deployment on a destroyer out of Esquimalt had lasted just over two months.
“I stopped by earlier but you were busy with a customer, so I touched base with Manny. He said you guys went out last night.”
His casual tone didn’t fool Blaine. Shaun would love to hear how he’d made out with Amber, but not because he was interested in the details of his friend’s sex life. Shaun had known Erin and Blaine as a couple, and Blaine knew that his friend was concerned for him after Erin’s death. If this new woman signaled a change, Shaun would be all ears, but Blaine wasn’t ready to discuss her... not yet.
“Yeah, I didn’t stay out too late.” He made a broad gesture. “I knew I had a couple of intense sessions today.” He glanced at his watch. “And now I have to do some paperwork and sign some cheques.”
Shaun took the hint. “So what are you doing tonight?”
A vision of a blonde woman filled his mind, but he brushed her away. “Don’t have anything planned except to grill some steaks. Why don’t you guys come over for supper and then we’ll take it from there. You can regale Manny and I with your exploits in all those foreign ports. Who knows, some of your stories might even be true.”
Shaun punched him lightly in the shoulder. “You got it. I’ll bring a case of cold ones.”
Blaine checked his supplies against tomorrow’s schedule. Another busy day, but that was the norm. He picked up a vial of ink and stared at it without really seeing it. Why was he thinking of that woman he’d seen this morning? Were his protective instincts coming to the fore, or was his body finally awakening... responding to the sight of a beautiful woman? It had certainly responded last night, but this morning he hadn’t even seen the woman’s face.
That didn’t matter, he decided. She’d had an air about her... a vulnerability. She’d been gone when he jogged back, and for a moment he’d been disappointed. None of it made sense. Maybe life was throwing a few curveballs at him, just to see how he reacted. But he didn’t believe in stuff like that... did he?
ARIANA STUDIED THE selection of white wine in the cooler as if she knew what she was looking at. Jeremy purchased all of their wine, thus ensuring that an inferior bottle never crossed their threshold.
Glass in hand, she wandered over to the French doors that led onto the back patio. She loved this time of day, when the setting sun bathed the landscape in a rich, golden hue. For several long moments she stood there, left hand crossed over her stomach and right hand holding the glass of wine. Nothing about the sight of her perfect yard pleased her tonight. She turned away, headed back to the kitchen and flicked off the light switch. That was better. Ambient light filtered through the windows, casting the room in shadowy darkness. Settling herself on one of the tall bar stools, she sat at the black granite countertop to wait.
By the time she heard the garage door, it was almost completely dark. She glanced at the clock on the stove: eight fifteen. There was no sense asking him where he’d been, because he wouldn’t give her a straight answer. And truth be told, she didn’t care.
The door leading to the garage opened. Jeremy strode in and tossed his keys onto the small counter where they kept their keys, their mail, and their device chargers. Ariana had hired an electrician to install a small, under-counter light in the area and he flicked it on and then picked up the waiting stack of mail, glancing at each envelope as though it didn’t deserve his time.
In the beginning of their marriage, the first thing he’d done when coming in was call out to her. When had that stopped? The under-counter light emphasized the harsh, unrelenting angles of his face. She looked at him dispassionately, wondering how much work it would take to get their marriage back on track – or if she even wanted to try.
She set down her wine glass and the small clink startled him.
“Jesus, Ariana. What are you doing sitting there in the dark? You startled me.”
She shrugged and reached for the bottle, surprised to find it almost empty. For someone who rarely drank, she had consumed a lot, but for some reason she didn’t feel intoxicated.
He flicked another switch and the hanging lights over the bar came on. Ariana turned her head away, blinking against the sudden light.
“You’re drinking,” he said, his tone flat. Taking the bottle from her hand, he held it up in front of the light. “And it looks as though you’ve finished most of it off.” He poured the remainder in her glass and walked the empty bottle over to the recycling bin; she was surprised he knew where it was.
“Now what’s this all about?” he demanded impatiently.
She took a sip of wine and set down the glass with exaggerated caution. Maybe she was a little drunk.
“I have cancer, Jeremy.”
He braced himself against the counter, his hand clenched. “Oh, for God’s sake, Ariana. Cut out the dramatics and just tell me what’s wrong.”
She studied him carefully, this man she used to love. His face was slightly flushed. Aha, she thought. He’s been drinking, but then that’s nothing new. He pushed away from the counter, went to the drinks counter and poured himself a splash of Jim. He claimed he’d grown to like it during a real estate conference in the States, but she had a feeling it was just for show... to be different from his friends.
She waited until he settled again.
“It’s breast cancer, Jeremy.”
His gaze dropped to her breasts. “Are you sure?”
“Am I...” Ariana almost choked. “If that wasn’t so pitiful, it would be funny.” Wait ‘til I tell Jodi about that one, she thought. “Yes, I’m sure.”
He frowned; here was something he couldn’t control. “But you look fine.”
“And I feel fine, thank you for asking.”
“So there could be a mistake?” Was that actually hope that flickered momentarily in his eyes? Maybe the man cared after all.
“No, Jeremy.” She owed him a proper explanation, if nothing else. “I got the results of the biopsy today. Medical people called it DCIS. That stands for ductal carcinoma in situ, which is a fancy way of saying non-invasive cancer.
His gaze returned to her breasts. “When did you get a biopsy?”
“Three days ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She should tell him the truth... that she didn’t think he would care. But he’d loved her at one time, and for that she would give him this one gift of a lie. “I thought if I didn’t tell anyone, it might not be true.” She gave him a wry smile. “Too bad it didn’t work.”
He nodded. “What happens next?”
“I’m glad you asked. I have an appointment with the oncologist in two days, and they’d like you to be there with me.”
He took a step back. “Me?”
“Or I could take my other husband, but I choose you.”
He frowned again. “What’s going on with you?” He grabbed her wine glass, walked over to the sink, and poured it out. Ariana didn’t particularly want any more wine, but his actions angered her.
“Oh, Jeremy. That was a foolish thing to do. Now you’ll just have to open another bottle.”
“You don’t need any more.”
She slid off the stool, walked around the end of the counter and looked up at him. “You have no idea what I need, Jeremy Logan.” Her voice almost broke, but she held back. “So either pour me another glass of wine or get out of the way and I’ll do it myself.”
Surprise flared in his eyes and for a moment she allowed herself a victory of sorts. A hollow one, to be sure, but she needed all the practice she could get if she was going to get through this.
“Thank you,” she said when he’d placed the wine in front of her. “Now about that appointment with the oncologist. Are you free on Friday at ten thirty?”
He pulled out his phone and scrolled to his appointments. “No, but I can move things around.” He looked up, all business. “Name and address?”
She gave it to him and watched as he entered it. “If you can’t make it, let me know. I’m sure Jodi will fill in.”
Jeremy’s jaw clenched. He didn’t like Jodi any more than she liked him. “I’ll be there,” he announced, his tone brisk and impersonal. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and looked around the kitchen. “I don’t suppose you’ve arranged any supper.”
“Nope, but there are some frozen pizzas and some other stuff in the freezer. You won’t go hungry. As for me, I’m going to have a long, hot bath.” She looked pointedly at the untouched glass of wine, then left him standing in the middle of the kitchen looking after her.
ARIANA GLANCED AROUND at the other women in the oncologist’s waiting room before she settled down to wait for Jeremy. To her untutored eye, they represented virtually every stage of their journey with cancer, from the newly diagnosed such as herself, to the bright, determined women bravely baring their bald heads. The ones in between tended to look either completely introverted, or shell-shocked, as though they weren’t quite sure what they were doing there.
The door opened and she looked up expectantly. Jeremy had promised to be here a few minutes early. That was one thing about him – he was a punctual kind of guy. Has to be in our business, she reminded herself. Customers paying a million and more for a home don’t expect to be kept waiting. She discreetly pulled up her sleeve and checked her watch. Two minutes later than the last time she looked. He’ll come, she told herself. Surely he won’t let me down about this. Just in case, she pulled out her phone and sent him an urgent text.
“It’s unfortunate that your husband couldn’t be here.” The oncology surgeon looked slightly annoyed, and Ariana forced a small, apologetic smile.
“I know you consulted with the surgeon who did the biopsy, but let’s go over this again, shall we?” He looked up briefly, then continued. “The good news is that DCIS is an early-stage cancer that is contained within the lobules or ducts, and that virtually all women treated for DCIS are cured. The bad news is that we’ve found cancer in multiple areas of your breast. That fact, combined with your family history of cancer, leads me to recommend a mastectomy.” He leaned forward on the desk, meshed his fingers together and waited for her reaction.
“You don’t seem surprised,” he said after a few moments. “Do you have any questions about what I just said?”
Ariana shook her head. “No. I’ve had a couple of days to think about this.” She held up one fingers. “That’s not quite correct. I’ve had four years to think about it.”
“I don’t understand.”
She motioned to the file in front of him. “My sister died from breast cancer four years ago, as you know, and at that time I decided that when my turn came, I’d have a mastectomy.”
The oncologist bristled. “It’s not always a foregone conclusion, you know.”
Ariana decided in that moment that he was a good man. He hated the disease almost as much as she did, and she admired him for that.
“I understand” she said, softening her tone, “but as the young people say, it is what it is, and now I have to deal with it.”
“A good attitude.” He returned his attention to the file on his desk. “Now let’s run over your options.”
“Excuse me doctor, but before we do that, there’s one more thing. I’d like you... or whoever does the surgery... to perform a double mastectomy. In the research I’ve done they called it a bilateral mastectomy with immediate reconstruction.”
He sat back and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You sound awfully sure.”
“I am.” She met his gaze unflinchingly.
“I must say I admire the way you’re dealing with this. I’ll have my office put things in motion to set up the surgery. They’ll get in touch with you, but in the meantime I want you to take the weekend to think about this.”
“I’m not going to change my mind.”
He gave her a wry smile. “I believe that. But this is one of my requirements. No regrets later, all right?”
“Fair enough.”
“Okay. Now this is where we go over the details. You’ll get this all in writing from the girls out front, but this is life changing surgery. Stop me if you have any questions.”
Half an hour later Ariana left the doctor’s office, her hands full of paperwork and her head spinning. It really would have been helpful to have Jeremey along... there was so much to remember. But in spite of the fact that her husband had been a no-show she felt lighter, and no, she told herself, that wasn’t a joke.
* * *
ARIANA HAD SO MUCH to do she didn’t quite know where to start. The doctor had been specific about the medical aspects of her after-care; they were more involved than she’d anticipated, but they all made sense. What was a little overwhelming was the number of things she’d have to arrange for day-to-day living. She’d learned today that she couldn’t rely on Jeremy, and Jodi had a business to run, so she needed to consider hiring someone to help her for the first few weeks. She’d taken a quick glance at the lengthy list of things she’d be unable to do by herself, and it was those everyday chores that brought the entire situation into focus. She was about to wage war, and a good general was always prepared. But perhaps... just for one more day... she’d clear her mind by going to her favourite bench along Dallas Road.
So much for clearing my mind, she thought, brushing her wind-tousled hair from her face. Who did I think I was kidding? Tears burned behind her eyes and she was tempted to let them loose. Always striving to be the perfect wife, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried. But this was neither the time nor the place. She’d have plenty of time to cry after the surgery. Not for her lost breasts, but for her lost marriage. Because even before she heard Jeremy’s excuse, she accepted that her marriage was over.
She couldn’t remember the last time they’d made love. When had he stopped caring? And just as importantly, when had she given up trying? She hated to admit failure in any aspect of her life, but today of all days demanded the cold, hard truth. She’d sensed him slipping away for some time now, but they’d been busy as one of Victoria’s power couples: smiling, successful, and always seen in the right places. They had become the face of Cambridge Realty, and in so doing, had lost their own identities. Could it be as simple as that?
Ariana knew other couples in similar situations who still seemed very much in love. You could tell by the small touches, the lingering looks across a room, full of promise for later in the evening. She and Jeremy hadn’t shared that kind of relationship for far too long. They’d had it once, at least she thought they’d had it, but somewhere between “I do” and now, it had slipped away, and she wasn’t sure it could be recaptured.
They’d honeymooned on the Gulf Islands, between Victoria and the mainland. The elegant resort had catered to their every need, with their fine dining restaurant and luxurious spa services. Rock climbing and walks on the beach followed by a relaxing drink in front of the fireplace in their room had suited Ariana’s need to be alone with the man she loved. But even then Jeremy had been anxious to get back to civilization. A salesman by nature, he couldn’t stand to be away from people for too long. It saddened her now to realize that she’d never been enough for him. Maybe in a few months, when the surgery was past and she was healed, they could consider re-visiting the islands. But somehow she didn’t think that was likely.
BLAINE COULDN’T BELIEVE he was back here for the third day in a row. What was he, some sort of lovesick teenager? And yet he couldn’t have stopped himself today if he’d tried – so he didn’t. When he jogged by yesterday the empty bench should have been enough, but he was a sucker for punishment.
Although today, this was punishment of a different kind. This was the sweet agony of wanting someone and knowing he couldn’t have her. Because yesterday, when he’d been rushing back to the studio, he’d seen her face on the side of a bus and it had clicked. Along with that smarmy looking guy, she was the face of Cambridge Realty. He knew of them; they handled most of the high-ticket waterfront estates that graced the shoreline.
Yet since seeing her the other day, he’d been unable to get her out of his mind. It was insane – he knew that, but he needed to see her once more. Everybody knew those ads were photo shopped; she couldn’t possibly be as lovely as her picture, or as delicately fragile as he remembered. If he could just see her once more, he’d get her out of his system. Besides, he had a date with Amber tonight, and no matter how long he’d been without a woman, he still held to his principles. Let the others brag about juggling two or three women at once; that wasn’t his style. He was a one-woman man, and God help him but he ached for this one.
A flash of colour caught his eye as he rounded the bend and the bench came into view. He slowed to a walk and carried on, his heart in his mouth.
He wasn’t sure if he was projecting his own emotions onto her, but she looked troubled today. She was staring out to sea again, and doing that vague rocking motion. Back and forth, as though making a momentous decision. He knew her name now... Ariana. It suited her perfectly.
“Excuse me, please.” An older woman brushed past, her eyes flickering to the tattoo on his bicep. He stepped aside, unaware that he’d been blocking the pathway. Partially hidden behind one of the wind-sculpted bushes, he watched Ariana get up. Small and delicate, she looked as though a sudden gust of wind might blow her off the cliff. Head down, she almost walked into the older woman. “I’m sorry,” he heard her murmur softly. “I wasn’t paying attention.” Her voice must be magic, because it entered his ears, wrapped around his heart and continued to his groin. That was it! This obsession had to stop, and right now. She offered the woman a vague smile, brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and crossed the grass toward a row of parked cars.
Blaine refused to look. If he saw which car was hers, he’d be scouring the streets hoping to catch a glimpse of her, and that just wouldn’t do. He waited several moments until he was sure she was gone and then jogged back to his own vehicle.
He climbed into his car, slammed the door and dropped his head back on the headrest. He was right... she didn’t look like the photo on the side of the bus. That photo had robbed her of her incandescent beauty. There was something inside her that glowed, and it tore him apart that he’d never see it close up.
His phone vibrated and he grabbed it impatiently. “Ur 1pm appt is here”. He groaned aloud and smashed his fist against the steering wheel. He was never late for an appointment. “On my way” he texted back. Time to return to the real world.
ONE MORE BRIDGE TO cross, thought Ariana, and then I can go home. She pulled out of the parking space and continued around the waterfront, headed for Uplands.
Jacqueline Beaumont was her grandmother on her mother’s side. Raised in a wealthy family, Jackie had never wanted for anything. But somewhere along the line, she’d learned respect for those around her, a trait she had passed on to Ariana from a young age.
Jackie Beaumont was variously described as “an elegant dowager”, “one of a kind”, and “one helluva poker player” by those who knew her, but to Ariana she was a grandmother who loved her unconditionally. There was something soothing about visiting Jackie for tea. Since the age of ten, Ariana had been allowed to choose her own cup and saucer from the priceless collection in the breakfront, and never once had Jackie cautioned her to be careful. That, among other things, made her grandmother special in Ariana’s eyes.
“Sorry to just show up, Gran.” Jackie looked as though she was expecting company, but then she always appeared perfectly put together. Her silver-white hair was brushed straight back, curling softly behind her ears. “There’s no reason to look like Aunt Bea,” she’d said once to Ariana, who hadn’t caught the reference, but looked it up the instant she got home. Diamond earrings twinkled at her ears, and a long strand of glowing South Seas pearls hung at her throat.
“My dear girl, you know you’re always welcome.” Piercing grey eyes examined Ariana, and then looked away. “You’ll stay for tea, of course.”
The familiar routine of tea was just what Ariana needed. Besides, she hadn’t eaten yet today, and one of the things she’d noticed on the lists she was given was that she should eat well before her surgery. Healthy bodies heal faster, or something like that. It made sense.
“Go ahead and make yourself comfortable in the sunroom while I ask Maisie to bring us some tea. She made some lemon squares yesterday; I think you’ll like them.”
Her grandmother’s sunroom was Ariana’s favourite spot in the world. Sinking into a brightly coloured squashy cushion, she recalled her childhood belief that nothing bad could happen in this room. The windows must be a pain to keep clean, looking out over the ocean as they did, but Jackie had plenty of staff to ensure that the impressive view was never impeded by salt spray. Just last week one of Ariana’s customers had been interested in buying a property in the area. She had checked comparative sales on properties in the area, and based on the amount of land, age of the home, and square footage, her grandmother’s home was worth north of four million. Perhaps more, depending on the buyer. And yet she could often be seen kneeling in her flower beds, sun hat firmly on her head, pulling weeds.
“But Gran, you have a full time gardener to do that,” Ariana cried the last time she’d come upon her in the garden.
“Don’t you start,” Ariana. The grey-violet eyes had flashed with annoyance. “Alejandro has plenty of other things to do. It’s not as if I’m putting him out of a job.”
The fact was, Jacqueline Beaumont had far more staff than she really needed. Loyal to a fault, they all adored her. She knew intimate details about their families and often went out of her way to help them, including bringing them into her household. Her generosity of spirit was one more reason Ariana loved her so much.
Jackie settled across from her now and fixed her with a piercing stare. “I’m waiting,” she said finally. “You’ve come to tell me something, so out with it.”
“You know me too well, Gran.”
“Hmmm.”
Fighting tears, Ariana raised her head. If she was going to cry, this was the safe place to do it, but she’d rather not. “I have cancer.”
A quick, hissing intake of breath was Jackie’s only response. Ariana watched her fight for composure.
“I won’t insult you by asking if you’re sure, but...” She hesitated. “Are you sure, my dear?”
“Yes. I’ve had the biopsy, and I’ve just come from seeing the oncology surgeon.”
“I see.” She looked up as Maisie brought the tea tray. “Just put it anywhere, Maisie,” she said, uncharacteristically abrupt; Ariana knew she’d apologize later.
Jackie rose and walked aimlessly around the room, fingering the tropical plants as she went. “I suppose I should have expected this,” she said, her voice unnaturally bright. “After your mother, and your sister...” Her voice trailed off, and she paused in front of the window for several long moments, lost in thought.
“I never did understand why it started with your mother,” she said at long last. “Why not me?” She turned back and sat down. “Forgive me. I don’t mean to make this about me, but I always wondered, you see. It has to start somewhere, I suppose. I just hoped you would be spared.”
Ariana edged forward on her chair and took her grandmother’s hand. “The difference is, I don’t intend to die, Gran. The surgeon says that my cancer is non-invasive at this point and I’m going to ensure that it stays that way.”
Jackie frowned.
“I’m going to have a bilateral mastectomy. Based on our family history and the fact that the cancer was in two places within my breast, I was going to need a unilateral mastectomy anyway.” She swallowed as the enormity of her decision washed over her. “I have a long life ahead of me Gran, and I don’t want to live it in fear. The doctor agrees that it’s a wise choice.” Her grandmother’s hands were cold, and she rubbed them gently. “I have a lot to do yet, so if you don’t mind, I think I’ll stick around. When I come out of surgery, I’ll look just the same, because these days it’s possible to do the reconstructive surgery immediately after.”
“Just the same,” echoed Jackie with tears in her eyes. “Of course you’ll be just the same. None of us are defined by our body parts, in spite of what today’s young people think. You’re going to come out of this a stronger woman.” Her eyes glowed. “Now let’s have a cup of tea while you give me all the details.”
Ariana left nothing out. Her grandmother listened quietly, and Ariana could see her filing the information away. She asked a few insightful questions, and Ariana answered to the best of her ability, making a few notes on things she needed to find out for herself.
“And what about Jeremy?” asked Jackie. “Where does he fit in?”
“Good question.” Ariana forced herself to meet her grandmother’s eyes. “He didn’t show up for the appointment today.” She broke eye contact. “He said he’d be there, but I’m tired of making excuses for him, Gran. I don’t think he intended to come at all.”
“What are you going to do about it?” It was no secret that Jackie Beaumont despised Jeremy Logan.
“Nothing.”
Jackie’s eyes widened, but she said nothing.
“Not yet, anyway. This operation and the healing afterward are going to take all of my energy. I refuse to let Jeremy get in the way of that.”
“Fair enough. You know you’re welcome to stay here. I could bring someone in to take care of you.” Jackie looked hopeful.
“Thanks, Gran, but I’d like to do this myself. Excuse me if I sound corny, but I’m looking at this as the beginning of the rest of my life.” It was Ariana’s turn to rise and walk to the windows. When she finally spoke, her voice was dream-like. “I’m not even sure if I want to continue selling real estate. It’s such a thankless job, and I don’t know who’s worse, the buyers or the other realtors.”
“Jeremy wouldn’t like that. You’re the number one team on the south island.”
Ariana whirled around. “Know what, Gran? I don’t care. What do you think of that?”
Jackie grinned. “Congratulations.” She sat up a bit straighter. “And if you decide to sell your portion of the business, let me know. You’ll need someone good to negotiate for you, and I have just the person.”
“Of course you do. I take it he’s good.”
“It’s a woman. Her friends call her The Barracuda. I won’t tell you what her adversaries call her.”
A slow smile spread across Ariana’s face. “Is there anyone you don’t know?”
“I doubt it, my dear. More tea?”
ARIANA PAUSED FOR A moment between the stone pillars that flanked the entrance to Jackie’s estate. She had a lot of reading and studying to do, but visiting her grandmother had left her feeling surprisingly buoyant. She and Jeremy lived nearby on Newport Drive, but she wasn’t ready to go home yet, so instead she turned right, heading toward the University. Cambridge Realty had several active listings in the area, and it was time for her weekly check on the signs. Nothing bothered her more than a poorly placed sign, or worse yet, one that wasn’t upright.
Located on beautifully landscaped lots and tucked in among towering firs, the homes in the area were in demand. Narrow, winding streets snaked through the area, ensuring that traffic moved at a sedate pace. Very little life was evident, but that was normal at this time of day. The residents were no doubt at work, earning money to service their considerable mortgages.
Several cars parked alongside the road caught her eye. One was Jeremy’s, and as the scene registered, she remembered that Kristin Hansen, an aggressive young realtor from their office was holding an Open House here today. She slowed, wondering if she should go in and confront him. But what would that prove? Still, their office had toured the home two weeks ago in advance of putting it on the open market, and Jeremy had seen it then. Maybe he’d brought clients to see it...
She turned around, parked and made her way up the driveway. Voices floated on the still air, drawing her to the rear of the house where a large patio faced a tinkling fountain and koi pond.
Ariana opened a heavy, wrought-iron gate, surprised that it made no noise. Two people stood on the patio, and as she watched dispassionately, Jeremy cupped the young woman’s face and kissed her lightly on the lips.
“...finishes at four,” said Kristin, raising her lips for another kiss. “You’re sure she doesn’t mind?”
Jeremy’s laugh was low and seductive. At least Ariana thought he meant it to be. “She doesn’t mind. We have an open marriage,” he said, trailing his fingers down the young woman’s neck and lingering at her breast. “Meet me later and I’ll show you just how open.”
Ariana would have laughed if it wasn’t so nauseatingly predictable. It was like watching a scene from a ‘B’ movie, or perhaps reading a scene from a romance novel. But it wasn’t... it was her husband, and the worst part was that she wasn’t surprised. She backed away from the patio and slipped out through the gate without closing it. The young realtor may lack morals, but she was experienced; she would check it before she left.
“Not surprised at all,” she said aloud, starting her car. “And what’s worse, I don’t even care.”
Instead of anger, a profound sadness enveloped her on the way home. She rarely indulged in dramatic, emotional scenes but she could see where one would have been appropriate back there. Like a fanfare, or a drum roll, a scene would have been preferable to letting her marriage fade away to nothing.
Perhaps she’d reserve that particular pleasure for another time. After all, she had someone called The Barracuda on her side.
* * *
“GOOD MORNING.” ARIANA smiled at her mother-in-law the next morning as she entered the office. Kathryn Logan manned the receptionist desk as though she were at the helm of a battle cruiser. Ariana knew that in spite of company rules, Kathryn routed certain calls to her favourite agents. It wasn’t something Ariana could police 24/7, but it still annoyed her. Fortunately, being an agent at Cambridge Realty was a coveted position, and none of the agents complained.
“Ariana, my dear. What’s this I hear about cancer?” Kathryn lowered her voice. “Is there anything I should know?”
Ariana considered the question for a moment. “I was on my way to discuss this with Jeremy now, but I might as well tell you. I’ll be taking several months off, effective immediately.”
The woman opened her mouth to object, but Ariana held up a hand. “I’ll take the next day or two to review all my listings. Most of them are co-listings with Jeremy, but I have a few with other agents.”
Kathryn’s gaze darted around the office. “Shouldn’t you have discussed this with Jeremy at home?”
“Yes, but your son is rarely there, which makes it a little difficult.”
Kathryn eyed her suspiciously. “You don’t seem very upset.”
“No? I suppose not.” Ariana spoke casually. “You see my mother died of cancer, as did my aunt. And then a few years ago, my sister, if you recall. So there was a good chance I’d get it, too.”
Kathryn pushed back from the desk, as though Ariana might be contagious. “I didn’t know... I mean, all those family members...” Her eyes narrowed. “Did you tell Jeremy?”
“About what? About the fact that I’d probably get cancer?” She didn’t wait for a response. “No, Kathryn, I didn’t tell him. Just like he didn’t tell me that you listen in on other people’s phone calls. So I guess we’re even.” She smiled sweetly. “Have a good day.”
“YOU SAID THAT? I DON’T believe it.” Jodi waved off her comment. “Of course I believe it, I just didn’t think you had it in you!” She was grinning from ear to ear. “This is so great. So did she go running to sonny boy?”
“Not while I was there. But I’m sure she couldn’t wait for me to leave.” Ariana took a long drink of water while Jodi answered her phone. The most chilling part of her conversation with Jeremy had been when she told him about the mastectomy. He’d recoiled as expected, but his next words had put paid to any faint glimmer of hope she might have had that their marriage could be resurrected.
“Then I guess we should move that photo session up,” he’d said coolly.
“Photo session?” Had she heard him correctly?
“Yes, for our new ad campaign. You remember, the new casual look?”
Who was this man? Ariana stared at him. “Have you heard anything I’ve said? I’m taking several months off, and I’m not sure if I’ll come back to work.” She lifted her chin. “Do what you like about the advertising, but remove my photo from any future ads.”
“You could at least have talked this over with me.”
“When, Jeremy? We could have talked after the appointment yesterday, but you were a no-show. And I was home all night last night, but you weren’t there, either. I didn’t get so much as a text from you either time.” She fought to keep her anger at bay. “When was I supposed to tell you?”
He had the good sense to remain quiet.
“So I’m telling you now,” she said quietly. “We have plenty of agents to pick up the slack, and I intend to contact every one of our listings personally to fill them in.” She raked her fingers through her hair, suddenly sick and tired of the whole affair. “It’s not as if I chose to get cancer, Jeremy. You might remember that.”
* * *
“SO YOU REALLY LET HIM have it, huh?” Jodi was off the phone.
“Not nearly as much as I should have.” She told Jodi about finding Jeremy with Kristin. “And before you say anything, it would have taken too much energy to confront him there.” She raised her hands and then let them drop. “Besides, I just don’t care anymore.”
Jodi nodded. “Good. He’s not worth it. So let’s talk about the operation. They’re going to build you some fake boobs while you’re still under? How cool is that?”
Ariana had to laugh. “Maybe one day it will seem cool, but right now, I’m scared stiff.”
Jodi shrugged. “Sorry, Just trying to lighten things up.” She toyed with her water bottle. “Will you have any... you know... sensation?”
“Probably not. Some women report regaining some sensation, but I’m not counting on it. All of the tissue under there is gone.”
“And what about the nipple? Will you be flat?”
“I’m not sure precisely what the plastic surgeon does, but yes, he creates something that looks like a nipple. It’s the areola they can’t duplicate. According to the literature, some women get them tattooed on.”
Jodi tapped her fingernails against her teeth. “I’ve heard something about that. There’s a guy here in Victoria who specializes in tattoos for women who’ve had reconstructive surgery.”
“You’re kidding. There are people who specialize in that?”
“Apparently. I heard a couple of women discussing it when they were working out.” She glanced toward the front door. “Apparently his shop is about a block from here, on the other side of the street. I hear he’s booked up months in advance. You’ve probably driven by the studio dozens of times.”
Ariana looked outside, deep in thought. “You’re right, I’ve noticed a tattoo place up the street. It’s called Ink something. Wait a minute, it’s called Ink Me.” She turned to her friend. “That’s it, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Jodi was focused on her computer. “Here it is. Ink Me. Owned by Blaine Bennett.” She let out a low whistle. “Be still my heart. This guy is gorgeous!” She turned the laptop around. “Wanna see?”
Ariana waved her away. “No. I’m not ready for that yet.”
“Okay, but Mama Mia, this guy is hot!”
“My friend, you think everybody’s hot.”
“Okay, but you really should check him out. It says here that people come from all over the province to see him.”
“Good for them.” Ariana slipped down from the stool. “Now I have a lot to do and you have a business to run. Talk to you later, okay?”
A COUPLE OF WOMEN RAN and caught the elevator just as the doors were closing. One of them still had a towel around her neck and was mopping her forehead. “That was great,” she said. “I’m so glad I didn’t put this off any longer.”
Her friend gave her a friendly jab with her elbow. “If I left these things up to you, we’d never do them.”
As Ariana walked to her car, their words seemed prophetic. She might not get back this way for some time; she really should check with that tattoo place now. If only she could remember his name...
She needn’t have worried. A business card rack on the elegant reception desk held cards for every artist in the studio. She picked up Blaine’s card. “I realize that Mr. Bennett is very busy, but I was wondering if I could see him.” Somewhere in the background classical music was playing.
The receptionist eyed her suspiciously. “Mr. Bennett is between clients right now. May I tell him what this is about?”
Of course, thought Ariana. I don’t look like the average client. She probably thinks I’m here to sell him something. “It’s about a tattoo.”
The receptionist’s eyebrows rose ever so slightly, but she was well trained. “Just a moment, please.” She lifted a handset. “There’s someone here to see you Blaine. Do you have a moment?” He said something and she glanced at her computer screen. “Half an hour.” She nodded. “All right.”
The receptionist rose. “Please come with me. Blaine will join you in just a moment.”
Ariana wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t this. A table resembling a massage table, plus an angular chair and a couple of arm rests occupied one side of the room. One wall was devoted to tools and inks, plus what appeared to be a large selection of design books. Two comfortable armchairs sat angled toward each other, but she was too nervous to sit. The music was slightly louder in here, and she recognized one of Beethoven’s piano concertos. Jodi will think I’m making this up, she told herself.
On the wall behind the armchairs, a striking photograph caught her attention. A man’s torso had been photographed from the side. A bold tattoo curled up the side of his neck and came down over one shoulder, ending somewhere around mid-bicep. Another image showed the same tattoo twisting half way across his back. Reminiscent of a Maori design, the bold simplicity was breathtaking, and she reached out to touch it.
“Do you like it?”
Ariana whirled around, embarrassed to be caught almost touching the photograph. “I... uh...” She couldn’t speak. Green eyes the colour of her grandmother’s prized jade bracelet were looking at her with an intensity she couldn’t fathom. Had she done something wrong in admiring the photograph? She swallowed and searched for something sensible to say. “Your design?” she asked.
“Yes.” The man closed the distance between them and held out his hand. “Blaine Bennett.”
Her hand slid into his as though it belonged there. “Ariana Logan,” she said, and then her eyes widened as she spotted the tail end of the tattoo crawling up his neck. She turned to the photograph. “That’s you.”
“Yes,” he said, studying the photograph as if he’d never seen it before. “Some people have suggested that it’s the height of vanity to have a picture of myself on the wall. He raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?”
Ariana tilted her head to one side. “I think they’re jealous,” she said softly. This time she did touch the photograph, although to her surprise she realized she’d rather be touching his skin. “This design is powerful and sensual all at once.” She looked directly into his eyes. “Is it just me, or does everyone want to reach out and touch it?” Tension shimmered in the air between them.
He laughed and Ariana didn’t know if she should be relieved or disappointed. “Not everyone,” he said, then lowered his voice. “Just the people who appreciate the same type of aesthetic as I do.” He gestured toward one of the chairs. “Please, sit down.”
Ariana looked around the room, her gaze lingering on his tattooing equipment before moving on to the specialized furniture. Suddenly the enormity of what she was about to do washed over her like a tsunami and she started to tremble.
“I’m so sorry,” she stammered, backing out of the room. “I shouldn’t have come here.” She looked into his eyes, begging him to understand. “I apologize for wasting your time.” Almost running from the studio, she found herself out in the bright sunlight and walking down the street. Where had she left her car? She couldn’t remember. Her steps took her past a familiar, bright, generic coffee shop and she ducked inside, ordered a coffee and made a beeline for the far corner.
What had she been thinking? In her haste to get everything organized, she hadn’t allowed herself to embrace her new reality. As if a bilateral mastectomy wasn’t enough, it appeared that her marriage was disintegrating as well. And yet she’d pushed ahead, as if nothing had changed. Well it has changed, she told herself, ripping the sugar packet and spilling most of the contents on the table. My life will never be the same and it’s time I faced up to that fact. She looked around for a napkin but the dispenser was empty. With tears in her eyes, she started to brush at the sugar with her hands.
“Here, let me take care of that.”
She didn’t have to look up to know it was him. But instead of soothing her, his voice unleashed a torrent of tears. He sat down across from her and reached for her hands, granules of sugar sparkling on his arms. His broad shoulders shut her off from the rest of the restaurant, affording her the privacy to let out her grief.
“Cry,” he said, with a gentle squeeze. “I’ve got you.”
A few minutes later, Ariana dug in her purse for a tissue and blew her nose. “Charming, huh?” she asked with a sheepish smile.
Beautiful, he thought, but said nothing as he brushed the sugar from his arms.
She frowned. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“It’s not every day a customer runs out of the shop. I had to see if I’d done something wrong.” His smile told her not to believe a word. “I was worried about you,” he said softly.
She lifted the coffee to her lips and grimaced.
“Let me get rid of that,” he said, rising in one fluid motion. “Let’s start over with fresh coffees, all right?”
She nodded and watched him make his way to the counter. A couple of young women came in and flirted with him outrageously. He smiled at them and the younger one fanned herself behind his back. Jodi had been right. The man was more than just attractive. He exuded sex appeal.
Blaine wiped the table with a damp rag, then set down their coffees as though they were in Limoges cups instead of cardboard. He returned the rag to the barista, then came back to sit down.
“So,” said Ariana. “What’s with the Beethoven?”
His eyes flashed and she wondered how many people recognized his tastes in music.
He blew on his coffee then set it back down. “When I was young, I spent a lot of time with my grandfather on my mother’s side. He had an old turntable and a whole stack of 33s. Do you know what those are?”
Ariana nodded and settled in. It was a relief to talk about something different for a change.
“Gramps had joined some sort of record club; each month he chose a record and they shipped it to him the following month. Some of the stuff I didn’t care for.” He shuddered. “Wagner. I couldn’t get down with that, as the kids say these days. But even though I didn’t really listen back then, I find myself appreciating many of those composers now.” He chuckled softly and his gaze drifted around the room. “I try to keep the sound low, ‘cause the guys accuse me of ruining the tone of the joint.”
“I liked it, but then I suspect I’m not exactly your usual type of customer.”
“Not really, no.” He studied her openly.” Although the demographics have changed a lot in the past ten years.”
Ariana nodded. “When I was young, tattoos were associated mostly with bikers, or gang members. And now...” She smiled. “A couple of months ago, my grandmother got one.”
“What did she get?”
“It’s a small image of the Eiffel Tower. She and Grandad spent their honeymoon in Paris. She got it done on what would have been their fiftieth wedding anniversary.”
“What we call a memory tattoo. In general, I like them.” Blaine toyed with his coffee cup. “I can tell by your voice that you’re fond of your grandmother. Does she live here in Victoria?”
“She was born here, actually. Her father was in on the ground floor of the original coal mines on the island.”
Blaine’s eyebrows rose.
“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right. She is wealthy, but at the same time she’s one of the most down-to-earth people I know. I love her,” she said simply.
“If she got a tattoo at her age, she’s okay in my books.”
“My friend Jodi says if there was a female version of the Dos Equis man, it would be Jacqueline Beaumont.” She motioned toward the street. “You may know my friend Jodi. She owns New Beginnings studio down in the next block.”
“The fitness place,” he said with a nod. “I know it, but I don’t think I’ve ever met the owner.”
Ariana took a couple of sips of coffee. “Thank you for the coffee, by the way. I’m fine now, if you have to go back.”
“Not really,” he said, lounging in the uncomfortable chair as if he had all day. “I’m enjoying this.”
“Oh.” A flush crept up her neck. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had said he enjoyed her company. “What got you started? In your business, I mean.”
“Again, it was my grandfather. When he was young, he was in the Navy, and he had a couple of rough tattoos on his arms. I was fascinated by them, and one day he took me to see a friend of his who owned a tattoo parlor.” His eyes took on a faraway look. “Carmen Delgado. He let me sit in while he worked on customers; I remember every moment of that day as if it were yesterday.” His gaze drifted back to Ariana. “I’ve been learning ever since.”
“I’ve heard your work is in demand and that people come from all over to have you work on them.”
“That’s true,” he said without a trace of arrogance. “But there are more artists coming up all the time and we do exchanges a couple of times a year. I’m leaving in the morning to go to Toronto. I’m scheduled to work in a studio there for a couple of months, and they’re sending someone out here to work with my crew.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone and frowned.
“What is it?”
“My next appointment is here.”
“Oh.” A wash of disappointment caught Ariana by surprise. “I guess you’d better go.”
He sent off a quick, one-handed text and looked up with a boyish grin. “I just bought us ten more minutes. I’m working on a friend of mine; he won’t mind.” He twisted around to slide the phone in his pocket and Ariana noticed a small tattoo on the side of his neck.
“Your tattoo,” she said breathlessly. “It’s so realistic.” Brilliant red, the tattoo was a perfect impression of a woman’s lips.
Blaine touched the side of his neck opposite the huge Maori-inspired tattoo and for the first time she noticed a wedding ring. She had no idea how she’d missed that. Perhaps it was the green of his eyes, or the breadth of his shoulders, but somehow the fact that he was married had escaped her completely. ‘It’s someone’s lips” she said, feeling like a fool. But something compelled her to ask.
Blaine’s fingertips rested on the tattoo. “These are my wife’s lips,” he said, and a fond smile softened his eyes. “It’s a memory tattoo.”
“It’s beautiful.” Ariana’s words were little more than a whisper. “She’s gone?”
Blaine looked everywhere but at her. Finally he nodded. “Yes.”
Ariana ached to reach out and touch the tattoo. To pull him into her arms and comfort him... but she couldn’t. “I can tell you still love her very much,” she said, fighting to keep her voice steady. “And the tattoo is a perfect reminder.”
He nodded, checked his watched and remained silent for several long moments. “Why did you come into my shop today?” he asked, pinning her with his gaze. “I’d like to know.”
Ariana’s heart started to pound and she placed a hand flat on her chest. She owed him a reply, but wasn’t sure she could bring herself to explain.
“My friend Jodi suggested I come and see you,” she said, staring into her coffee. Perhaps if she didn’t look at him, she could get the words out. “I understand that you specialize in tattooing after breast reconstruction surgery. I’m scheduled for a bilateral mastectomy in a few days, and Jodi said I should book a time with you in advance.”
He said nothing and when she looked up, the colour had drained from his face. He seemed to be fighting for breath, then he closed his eyes and dropped his head onto his chest.
His rejection stung, and she struggled to her feet. “My husband’s reaction was about the same,” she mumbled, then turned and bumped into someone.
A beautiful young woman had approached through the restaurant without either of them noticing. Tall and with black, luxurious hair, she was the polar opposite of Ariana.
“Darling,” the woman said, ignoring Ariana and focusing on Blaine. “I’m sorry I’m late. They said I’d find you here.”
Blaine opened his eyes to find Ariana on her way out of the door. She stood on the sidewalk for a moment, turning left then right, a look of desperation on her face. He couldn’t believe he’d hurt her, but he couldn’t go after her. Not now, while his tumultuous thoughts mixed painfully with memories of the past. Maybe later, but not now.
“Sit down, Amber,” he said wearily. “We have to talk.”
“RUN THAT BY ME AGAIN.” Blaine’s friend Shaun was driving him to the airport. “Why do you have to break it off with Amber?”
“Forget I brought it up.” Blaine knew what his friend was doing, but he wasn’t in the mood for any psycho-babble right about now. Besides, it was five o’clock in the morning; not his best time of day.
“Exactly,” said Shaun, unaffected by his friend’s bad mood. “You brought it up.” He glanced over at Blaine. “It’s about that other one, isn’t it? The one on the park bench you told me about.”
Blaine stared out the passenger window.
“But she’s married, man. That’s so not your style.”
“I know, dammit. I’m the one who told you.”
“Okay.” Shaun shrugged. “So you say Amber didn’t take it too well. Didn’t take her long to get hooked by the old Bennett charm, did it?”
“I never should have started up with her,” muttered Blaine. “It was only ever about the sex.”
“Hello! It’s always about the sex,” crowed Shaun. “The rest comes later,” he said thoughtfully. “And if you find the right one, you marry her.”
“Got the T-shirt,” said Blaine. “The thing is, I never thought it would happen again.”
“Time Out!” Shaun was tempted to pull over, but he continued driving. “You don’t even know this woman,” he said, glancing over at Blaine every few seconds. “You can’t possibly be in love with her.” He waited a few seconds. “Can you?”
Blaine turned toward him, and the look on his face said it all.
“You are in love with her,” said Shaun, his tone disbelieving. “Heaven help us.”
“YOU’RE BACK.” JODI looked up from her position behind the desk, but her smile quickly turned to concern as Ariana approached. “What happened?”
Ariana braced herself against Jodi’s counter and took several breaths. “I went to the tattoo place and made a complete fool of myself.”
“You?” Jodi let out a little snort of disbelief. “Hardly.”
“I’m serious, Jodi. When he asked me what I wanted, I ran out of his cubicle.” She couldn’t meet Jodi’s eyes. “And then I couldn’t remember where I’d left my car, so I ran into that coffee shop next to his place, and he followed me.”
Jodi had the good sense to remain silent.
A faint smile curved Ariana’s lips. “We actually talked for a while.” She looked up. “He’s very nice. But then, when I told him why I was there, he just lost it. Turned white and everything.”
Jodi frowned. “Wait a minute. That doesn’t make sense. This is what he does for a living. Why would he get upset?”
“I don’t know, but he couldn’t look at me. It hurt even more than Jeremy’s reaction.” She paused to consider that for a moment. “I don’t know why.”
“So what happened?”
“Nothing, really. His girlfriend came along just as I was leaving.”
“No, silly. I mean did you make an appointment for the tattoo?”
Ariana gave a dry, mirthless laugh. “Hardly. Anyway, he’s leaving for Toronto in the morning. He’ll be gone for a couple of months. I’ll find someone else to do it.”
Jodi studied her friend. “Ariana, would you tell me the truth if I asked you a really personal question?”
Ariana hesitated, her eyes wide. “I’m not sure. What is it?”
“Are you falling for this guy? I mean, I know he’s gorgeous and everything, but you’re hardly in a position right now...” She let the rest of the thought trail off.
“Don’t be silly.” Ariana’s response was unconvincing. “Of course not.”
Jodi nodded slowly. “I thought so.”
* * *
ARIANA WORKED HARD the next couple of days so she could set aside her last day before the operation and indulge herself. In the literature she’d been given, a spa day was recommended as a means of relaxing. There would be moments in the weeks to come where she would scarcely be able to lift her arm, let alone style her hair, and she planned her spa day as something to remember during those bleak times. As she enjoyed a pedicure, it occurred to her that another spa day might be even more enjoyable when the healing was completed. Of course her desire to look good had nothing to do with the fact that Blaine would be back by then. Nothing at all.
* * *
BLAINE’S PHONE VIBRATED as he stood in the baggage claim at Pearson airport. It was his shop. He calculated the time difference; with the three-hour lag, they were still at work.
“Yes.”
“Blaine, you won’t believe this.”
“Try me.”
“Gunnar Brasso, the guy who was supposed to come out here, cancelled at the last minute.”
“You mean...”
“Yeah. He was a no-show. Something about a family emergency.”
Blaine looked around for something to punch. But he could hardly start beating up the other travellers. “Give me a minute to think about this,” he said, trying to calm himself. “I suppose there’s nothing to prevent me from staying here. I’m just glad I told them to line up appointments for the first three weeks, instead of the entire two months.” He nodded to himself. “Yeah, I suppose it will work. I’ll go in tomorrow, get the lay of the land, and get back to you. Okay?”
“Sounds good. Sorry, man. How was the flight?”
“You don’t want to know.” Between the crying baby in the seat behind, and the delay in Calgary on the stopover, he was exhausted. But at least his bag had showed up and he strode toward it as they talked. “I’ll check with you tomorrow.”
Toronto was much as he remembered. He hadn’t been back for over five years, but the heat, crowds and frantic pace hadn’t changed. Blaine had grown up a few miles to the north, in the exclusive area of Rosedale, but the downtown area, where his hotel was located, had been his stomping grounds all those years ago. He returned to the streets now with a sense of familiarity, but without any desire to return permanently. These days, his roots were comfortably anchored in west coast soil; he smiled at the image. He’d make the best of his time here, even if he’d rather be home, mending fences.
At the thought of Ariana, his stomach clenched. When he’d walked into his cubicle and saw her there, he’d suddenly known what that corny old expression meant. His heart had actually leaped into his throat and he hadn’t been sure if he could speak. He couldn’t remember now what he’d said, but it must have been all right, because it wasn’t until later that she fled.
He would give anything to be able to replay their last few moments together, but when she’d announced her upcoming surgery, he felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Up until then, she’d been this ethereal, perfect being, and when she’d told him about her mastectomy, everything had changed. She’d suddenly become human. Shaun was right; Blaine didn’t know her, but in that moment he would have been willing to take her place on the operating table, if that were possible. A fanciful notion, but his desire to protect her grew stronger every time he thought about her, which was almost constantly. It was just as well he was committed to stay in Toronto for a month.
* * *
THE TORONTO SHOP WAS bright, professional and very busy. Blaine soon found himself immersed in some interesting projects, and he lengthened his workdays as he began to enjoy himself.
“So what do you think?” Gunnar entered his temporary cubicle and admired Blaine’s sketch for a project he was starting tomorrow. “How do you feel about staying the second month? Carly has a whole list of people who would like an appointment if you’re staying.”
In spite of the uncertain start to their relationship, the two artists had become friends.
Blaine didn’t have to consider. “Thanks, but I don’t think so.” He met the other man’s gaze and something unspoken passed between them. “Unfinished business to take care of.”
“I understand.” Gunnar pumped his hand. “Come back any time.”
ARIANA OPENED HER EYES. She wasn’t sure which was drier, her eyes or her mouth. Jackie was slouched in the large chair beside her bed, asleep. A small line of drool ran down the side of her chin and Ariana wished she could hand her grandmother a tissue; she wouldn’t like to be seen like that. But she couldn’t move. An unfamiliar pressure on her chest pinned her to the bed and she gave up fighting and fell back to sleep.
When she woke again, pale grey light seeped between the blinds of the hospital room. Jackie was still sitting in the chair, reading glasses perched on her patrician nose as she read something on her Kindle.
Ariana’s gaze swept around the room, familiarizing herself with her surroundings before engaging in conversation with her grandmother. No doubt Jackie would spring into action the moment she realized Ariana was awake, and this quiet moment would be over. Behind Jackie, on a broad ledge, several bouquets of flowers caught her attention. From Jodi, no doubt. And the office would send one, as would Jackie. Tucked in behind the large arrangements, an exquisite crystal bud vase held a single red rose. Could it possibly be?
She lifted a finger. “Flowers,” she said, her voice hoarse.
Jackie leaped up and leaned over the bed. “You’re awake,” she said, her eyes misty. “Shall I call the nurse?”
“Thirsty,” said Ariana, but her eyes remained on the flowers.
Jackie held a straw to her lips. “The flowers are lovely, aren’t they?” She waved a hand airily. “All the usual suspects.”
“Rose,” said Ariana between sips of water. If Jackie wanted her to work for it, she’d play along.
“Ah, yes. That one’s a bit of a mystery.” She turned and lifted it out from behind the others. “Beautiful crystal vase. Someone has good taste.”
“Where’s the card?” croaked Ariana. She tried to lift her arms but it felt as though someone had weighed them down.
Jackie reached in her pocket and pulled out a small white square. “I confiscated it,” she said with a smug smile. “Since it appears to be a private message.”
She held it up so Ariana could read. Bold, slanting letters conveyed a simple message:
Forgive me
Jackie turned the card over. It was blank.
Ariana let her head fall back on the pillow and closed her eyes. A tear ran down her cheek as she thought of him, but she was smiling. How many times over the past week had she told herself to forget him? Hundreds? But she hadn’t listened. Just as well, since her good intentions flew out the window at the sight of one single flower. She’d always known that forgetting Blaine Bennett wouldn’t be easy. And now she didn’t even want to try.
Jackie watched her granddaughter for a few moments. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready,” she murmured to herself, then rang the bell for the nurses.
* * *
ARIANA WAS UP AND WALKING by the time Jeremy arrived later in the afternoon. He stood tentatively in the open doorway with a flowering plant, and she was reminded of the young man who had come back from UBC after receiving his degree in Business Admin with an emphasis on marketing.
“Thank you, Jeremy.” She accepted the flowers with a smile. “I’ll take this home with me tomorrow.” She eased herself into a large, padded chair and indicated that he should take the chair opposite.
“Will you be all right?” He glanced around the room nervously. “I mean will you be able to take care of yourself?”
“Don’t worry,” she said with a wry smile. “You don’t have to do anything. I’ve hired someone to come in and stay with me for a couple of weeks.”
He lowered his voice. “I moved into one of the guest rooms so I won’t be bothering you at night.”
You haven’t bothered me at night for a long time, she thought. I don’t even remember the last time.
“Do you mind?” he asked, and for a moment she wasn’t sure what he was referring to.
“About moving to the guest room?” She shook her head. “No, that’s fine.”
“We’ve grown apart,” he said, as though he’d just discovered that fact. “And now, with this...” He gestured toward her. “Everything is different.”
She was tempted to ask him what he meant, but this was neither the time nor the place to enter into a discussion which would inevitably end up as an argument. “You’re right,” she said. “Everything is different, but let’s discuss it at home, all right?”
“All right.” His cell phone chimed and he checked it. “I should take this” he said, and was deep into a conversation as he headed toward the hallway.
As he walked away, she tried to remember what had attracted her to Jeremy in those first heady days after he came back from University.
It occurred to her now that their families had assumed she and Jeremy would carry on the family business. Ariana had discovered that she had an aptitude for the business, and soon became the top listing agent in the office. Potential sellers as well as buyers were impressed with her honest, forthright approach. She never oversold, never misrepresented. Word spread quickly, and Ariana Ryan soon surpassed even her father’s sales records.
If Jeremy was jealous of her success, he hid it well. Their working partnership soon leveled out, with Jeremy handling the business end, balancing out Ariana’s sales efforts.
After a couple of years of long hours working together and heady financial success, marriage had seemed the next natural step. While their marriage hadn’t been as cut and dried as a real estate transaction, it came a close second.
Her gaze drifted back to the rose, and desire flooded her body. Life with Blaine would be anything but cut and dried. Closing her eyes, she pictured brooding eyes and sculpted lips. Did he know that a red rose symbolized love? She hoped she’d get a chance to find out.
“Ariana?” Torn from her reverie, she looked up to see Jeremy watching her. “Are you all right? You looked like you were in pain.”
If you only knew, she thought. “No, I’m fine.”
“If you say so.” He shifted his feet. “Listen, something’s come up and I might not be able to stop by tonight.”
“Don’t worry.” Ariana managed a smile. “Gran has already arranged for her driver to take me home tomorrow after I’m discharged, so I’ll see you then.”
“Okay.” He gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek and left.
The nurse entered her room moments after Jeremy left. “Come on, Mrs. Logan. Let’s take a walk.” She flicked back the bed covering and slipped some booties on Ariana’s feet.
Ariana accepted her help getting out of bed. “I can manage to walk on my own if you’re busy.”
“Yes, I think you could, but humour me. Hospital rules and all that.” She offered her arm and Ariana took it.
“How is your pain?” the nurse asked as they shuffled down the hall.
“Not bad,” said Ariana, looking into rooms as they walked by. “When I read the literature, I was surprised to find that other types of breast surgery can be far more painful.” She patted the pouches at the end of the drain tubes. “I’m not sure I like these pouches, though.”
The nurse smiled. “Just think of how things were before some genius thought of using drains.”
“I suppose so,” said Ariana. “The faster I can heal, the better.” She paused at the next doorway. “Have these woman all had breast surgery?” She gave the nurse’s arm a small squeeze. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be nosy.”
The nurse glanced into the room, where three sets of feet were all that was visible. “It’s an oncology ward. It would be safe to say that a good number of these women have had mastectomies.”
“I wonder how they do it,” murmured Ariana.
“What do you mean?”
She shot the nurse a quick look. “I don’t quite know how to say this, so I’ll just be blunt. I have financial resources, so arranging for care, and the things I need for my recovery weren’t a problem for me. Plus I don’t have any children to worry about. I can’t imagine how these women manage the expenses, or the time off work, or caring for their children during their recovery time.”
“But they do,” said the nurse. “Somehow.” She turned them around. “Let’s go back to your room.”
“Are there support groups?” asked Ariana, her thoughts still on the other women.
“Yes. And I believe a lot of them attend the meetings. Particularly the ones who need emotional support as well.” The nurse cocked her head to one side. “You seem remarkably well adjusted for someone who’s just had a bilateral.”
Ariana filled the nurse in on her family history. “I feel like I’ve been set free, to tell you the truth. The possibility of cancer has been weighing on me for a good many years. I’ll never breast feed, but at least I’m alive and I can still have children.”
“I admire your outlook.” The nurse helped her into bed and paused at the door. “My shift ends soon. Good luck to you, Mrs. Logan.”
“Thanks, Denise. I appreciate that.” Ariana stared at the ceiling, expanding on an idea that had taken root a few days ago. With nothing much to do in the next few weeks, she’d have lots of time to examine it from all sides.
JODI DIDN’T RECOGNIZE the number on call display. “New Beginnings,” she said. “How may I help you?”
“Hello Jodi. It’s Blaine.”
“Blaine who?”
Blaine stifled a laugh. “Are you going to bust my balls every time I phone?”
“Quite possibly. What do you want?”
“You know what I want. How is she? And don’t ask who.”
Jodi decided to cut him some slack. “I just talked to her, actually. Everything went well and Jackie and her driver are picking her up tomorrow to take her home.”
“So soon?”
“What are you now, a doctor?” Jodi waited for a comeback, but when he didn’t speak, she softened her tone. “She sounded fine, Blaine. I’ll be seeing her tonight; would you like me to give her a message?”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t tell her I called. I need to see her face to face for what I have to say.”
Jodi wished she could be a fly on the wall for that conversation. “So you’re still in Toronto?”
“Yes, for a few more weeks, but I don’t intend to stay the full two months. Will you take note of this number and call me if anything comes up? Anything at all.”
“Okay,” she said, although she’d already done it. “And Blaine?”
“Hmmm.”
“When you get back? Don’t hurt her, okay? She’s in a rough place right now.”
“Are you kidding? First of all I’d rather cut off my arm than hurt her. And secondly, I’d have to answer to you. I don’t know which of those scenarios scares me the most.”
“Trust me, if you hurt her I’ll do a lot worse than cut off your arm. ‘Bye, Blaine.” She disconnected without waiting for a response.
“Now that’s the kind of friend every woman should have,” he said, slipping the phone into his pocket and going back to work.
* * *
“GRAN, WHAT HAVE YOU done?” Ariana’s house was overflowing with flowers when she got home the next day. “But I do love them.”
Jackie drifted from room to room, checking that everything looked just right. Finally, she stopped and held up her hands. “Look at me, fussing like a mother hen. I’ll go home and leave you in Carly’s capable care.” She turned to the practical nurse. “You have my number if you need it.”
Carly nodded. “Yes, Mrs. Beaumont. Thanks for sending your driver.”
Not wanting to get too close, Jackie gave Ariana an air kiss and whispered in her ear. “I put your rose on your bedside table.”
Ariana blushed. “Thanks, Gran. I’m headed there right now. Just coming home has tired me out.”
* * *
WHEN ARIANA WOKE, IT was almost dark. She had been vaguely aware of Carly checking on her, but she’d gone right back to sleep. She felt around on the bed for the buzzer the nurse had given her and pushed it.
“I’d like to get up now,” she said with a grimace. “I need to move around a bit, and then I think I’ll sit out on the patio and wait for my husband.”
* * *
ARIANA SHUFFLED AROUND and lit a few outdoor candles, then settled down to wait for Jeremy. Their back yard, like everything else about their home, was a showplace, and yet she could count on one hand the number of times they’d entertained friends here. The fact was, they didn’t have many friends outside of the business, and frequent company functions at downtown locations gave her all the interaction she needed with the real estate crowd. When they’d first moved into this house, she’d envisioned a playhouse in the corner of the lot, with a swing set and a...
“Hi.” Jeremy swooped in and placed a quick kiss on her lips. He smelled slightly of scotch, but he often had a drink in the evening, and she didn’t see any point in nagging him about it.
“I brought you some more flowers,” he said, awkwardly handing her a mixed bouquet. “But the house already looks like a flower shop.”
“Thank you, Jeremy.” She accepted the generic flowers and her thoughts went to the one perfect rose at her bedside.
“I’m going to get a drink. Would you like anything?”
“No thanks... no, wait. A bottle of water would be good. I’m supposed to stay hydrated.”
He returned moments later and handed her the bottle.
“Could you open it, please? I could probably do it, but I’m not supposed to exert myself.” For some reason, she was embarrassed to ask for help, and laughed nervously.
“Of course.” He opened the bottle, handed it back to her and chanced a quick look at her chest. “Are you in pain?”
“It’s not too bad, surprisingly. Thanks for asking.” It was the first personal conversation they’d had in ages, and they were speaking like strangers.
Jeremy walked around the patio, peering into the lit candles, then sat down abruptly.
“Ariana.” He seemed to be gathering his courage. “I know we haven’t been close lately, but I’d like to start over again.” He looked up and finally met her eyes. “It’s clear that neither of us is happy the way things are, and I just thought... I don’t know... that maybe we could go away and have a weekend together. Like we used to do when we were first together.”
Tears pooled in Ariana’s eyes. Why couldn’t he have proposed this a couple of years ago? Even a year ago they might have been able to pull together the fraying edges of their relationship, but now? She didn’t think so.
“Why, Jeremy?”
“Why? What do you mean?” He looked uncomfortable. For a brief second she looked into his eyes and caught a glimpse of the real reason behind his proposal. He was afraid that she was going to sell her controlling portion of the business to someone who would treat him like an employee.
“You think I’m going to sell my part of the business and you’re worried about where that will leave you.”
His face turned red and he leaped to his feet. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really? I think you do.” She was getting tired of playing games. “You don’t really want to get back together, Jeremy. For a moment there, you had me wondering if you were sincere, but even if you were, it’s too late and I think you know that.”
He slumped back into his chair. “So what’s the bottom line?”
“That’s what it’s come down to. A business arrangement.” She shook her head. “If I wasn’t so wiped out from this operation, I’d get mad right about now.” She thought for a moment. “Or not. Come to think of it, our marriage isn’t worth the energy it would take.”
Jeremy stopped any pretense at reconciliation. “When did you become such a cold bitch?”
Ariana sighed. “When I overheard you tell Kristin that we have an open marriage.”
“What?” His gaze darted around. “I never –”
She held up a hand. “Don’t deny it, Jeremy. I stopped by that open house after my doctor’s appointment and I heard you. The bottom line is you should have come with me to that appointment.” She took a long pull from the water bottle. “But that’s in the past, and I’m determined to concentrate on the future. So here’s the way I see it. Sometime in the next few weeks I’ll be visiting my lawyer to start divorce proceedings. Then I’m going away for a while. I need some time to think, and when I come back, we can discuss this further. In the meantime, I don’t want to see you. I don’t object to you staying in the house; it’s your home too after all, but I don’t want to see you.” She looked at him steadily. “Can you do that?”
He nodded. “All right, but –”
“Forget the buts. This isn’t a negotiation.”
He looked at her with newfound respect. “When did you get so tough?”
She could think of any number of clever replies, but decided on the truth. “When I realized that there’s something a lot better out there.” Determined not to show weakness, she rose by herself and went back into the house without another word.
“HERE, LET ME DO THAT. We used to brush each other’s hair all the time when we were kids, remember?” Jodi arrived the next morning just as Carly finished washing Ariana’s hair. She handed over the brush and Jodi nodded her thanks. “It didn’t occur to me that you wouldn’t be able to raise your arms.” She brushed gently and Ariana closed her eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“A bit better.” She met Carly’s eyes in the mirror. “I slept fairly well last night, right?”
“She was a bit restless, but overall she had a good night. We’ll try the pillows in a slightly different position tonight,” said Carly confidently. She gathered up the wet towels. “I’ll leave you two to catch up while I take these to the laundry.”
“She’s nice,” said Jodi. “I’m glad you’ve got her here with you. When does she sleep?”
Ariana glanced at her watch. “Someone else is coming to be with me during the day and Carly said she’d catch some sleep then. She wanted to give me some extra sleeping aids last night, but I have so many pills in my system I thought I’d try without them. Turns out she was right, but I’ll nap this afternoon.”
“Any reason she wanted to knock you out?” Jodi was watching her carefully in the mirror.
“I think she overheard a bit of what Jeremy and I were discussing last night. He had the nerve to suggest that we should try getting back together, and I almost believed him.”
“He’s worried you’re going to sell the company.”
“Exactly.” Ariana sighed. “I told him I’m going to start divorce proceedings but that I’ll decide on the business when I get back.”
Jodi stopped brushing. “Back from where?”
“I’m not sure yet. But it will be somewhere peaceful, where I can walk on the beach and think things through.”
“That could be anywhere on the island.”
“I know. That’s what I love about living here. I need to recover for a couple of weeks first, then I’ll leave. I have a lot to think about.”
Jodi put down the brush. “So much has happened. Are you nervous?”
Ariana studied her reflection in the mirror. “Not really. I’m more excited than anything. All of a sudden I see a new future stretching out in front of me, and I really like it.”
“Are you going to quit the company?”
“I might.” Ariana smiled to herself. “That’s one of the things I’m going to think about. I’m good at what I do and I’ve made a lot of money, but it’s not exactly a satisfying occupation. Lots of nights and weekends. Clients with too much money who think the world revolves around them, or clients with not enough money who can’t find anything decent in this market. It can be frustrating.”
“Wow, I didn’t know you felt that way.”
“Neither did I, until I started to be honest with myself. I’d like to do something meaningful for a change.”
“Such as?”
Ariana shrugged. “I’ll tell you when I’ve got it figured out.”
BLAINE DROVE SLOWLY up the cobblestone driveway. Set well off the street in the exclusive Rosedale section of Toronto, the mullioned windows glinted in the late afternoon sun. White trim combined with black shutters gave the red brick home a formidable presence, and Blaine wondered if his welcome would be any warmer than the last time. Of course he hadn’t given any advance notice then, either.
Why did he show up unannounced when he knew it was impolite? Perhaps because he hoped his father wouldn’t be home, and he could say he’d made an effort. Or was he still angry and trying to piss the old man off?
Hampton Bennett was a shipping magnate of sorts. “Ham” to his friends, he was tall and broad-shouldered like his son, with a full head of black hair brushed back from a high brow. He had taken over a broken down fleet of rusting ships from his ailing father and turned it into the largest shipping company on the Great Lakes. Building up the business had taken every ounce of energy he possessed, combined with every moment of time, leaving nothing for his young family. He dismissed his wife’s requests for his presence as the demands of a spoiled woman. When Blaine made it clear that he didn’t intend to join his father in business, he was treated as though he didn’t exist. The moment Blaine turned eighteen and left home, so did his mother. She had been replaced by a much younger woman who Blaine pitied more than disliked.
Blaine sat in the rental car and studied the house. He couldn’t say exactly why he tried to reconnect with his father every few years, but he did. He’d given up trying to please the man many years ago, but deep down he wanted to have a simple conversation. He longed for that nebulous emotion somewhere between affection and friendship. All he really wanted was for his father to accept him – understand him, perhaps. Was that too much to ask?
He got out of the car and strode to the entrance before he changed his mind. White pillars flanked the front door. The roof they supported was ineffective in a snowstorm, but the pillars set off the front of the house beautifully. He pressed the familiar brass doorbell.
An older woman answered the door; Blaine assumed she was the housekeeper. “Blaine Bennett to see Mr. Bennett,” he said, striving for a friendly tone.
The woman’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Is Mr. Bennett expecting you?”
“No.”
“I see. Well, if you’ll wait for just a moment, I’ll see if he’s available.” She indicated the informal parlor to the left and scurried off on silent shoes.
Blaine wandered around the parlor, studying the few pieces of excellent artwork on the walls. Nothing in the room offered a hint about the owner, and Blaine wondered if it had always been that way. He supposed it had, he’d just been too unhappy to notice.
“Mr. Bennett will see you now.” The woman had returned. “If you’ll come this way, please, he’s in his office.”
Blaine frowned. His father had been adamant about going to the office every day and had never worked at home. Of course these days, with everyone being connected online...
The woman opened a door and ushered Blaine into a room. The layout was slightly different than he remembered; it had been the library at one time. French doors opened to a sloping back lawn bordered by carefully tended flower beds.
At first he didn’t recognize his father. Sitting behind a desk, his hair was now pure white. Once proud of his erect posture, he was now slumped slightly to one side, and Blaine saw instantly that he’d had a stroke.
“Hello, father.” He crossed the room and offered his hand. His father raised his left arm and shook awkwardly. “Hello son. Still haven’t learned any manners, I see.” The words were tempered with a smile.
“No, Sir. Wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”
The nurse appeared again, startling Blaine.
“May I bring you some tea, Mr. Bennett? It won’t take a minute.”
“No thanks.” It startled Blaine to hear his father say thank you to the help, but he hid his surprise. “My son and I are going to have a brandy.”
“But Mr. Bennett...”
He waved away her protestations. “Brandy if you please, Brenda. And two glasses.” His eyes glinted as though he’d won a huge battle. “You enjoy a brandy, don’t you Son?”
Blaine hated brandy. “Yes, Sir.”
The woman went to the sideboard, poured two generous snifters and placed one near Ham’s good hand. “There you go, Sir.”
“Hmmmph.” It would have to do as thanks. He’d already said the words once today.
Blaine’s father took a sip of brandy and closed his eyes. “Good,” he said, as a small amount dribbled down his chin. He brushed it away impatiently then turned back to Blaine.
“I was sorry to hear about your wife.” The words were marginally slower than normal, but distinct. Blaine got the impression that his father had worked hard at his speech therapy.
“Thank you, Sir. How did you hear?”
“Your mother.” He raised the glass again. “She keeps me up to date on what you’re doing.”
Blaine nodded. “I was sorry to miss her this time, but she had that trip planned for a long time. She comes out to Victoria once a year though.” He smiled at the memory. “I keep trying to talk her into moving out there, but she likes it here.”
His father’s gaze went to a framed photograph of his mother on the desk. “I was angry when she asked for a divorce. Should have fought it harder, but I was too proud. That bimbo I married didn’t stick around after the stroke, but that’s no loss.”
Stunned by the admission, Blaine said nothing. His father continued. “Your mother warned me to slow down. Said I’d have a stroke and it looks like she was right.”
“I wish she’d told me.”
Ham Bennett chucked. “We had quite a disagreement about that, but I eventually won.” He looked up. “I didn’t want you to see me like this, but I’m glad you came. I get a little better every week, and the doctors tell me that with continued therapy, I’ll be walking by Christmas.”
It was then that Blaine realized his father was in a wheelchair.
“I believe you’ll do it, Sir.” He met his gaze straight on. “At least your mind seems as sharp as ever.”
“I like to think so, but I’ve handed over most of the daily responsibilities to my second-in-command. He’s a good young man.” He cocked his head. “Don’t need a job, do you?”
Blaine laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed in his father’s presence, and it felt good. “You never give up, do you? No, Dad, I’m happy doing what I do.”
A tear ran down his father’s face. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you call me Dad?”
Tears also shimmered in Blaine’s eyes, blurring the image of his father across the desk. “About as long as I’ve waited to have a conversation with you where we didn’t fight.” He glanced at the brandy. “I hate brandy, but I suspect you asked for it so I could pour it into your glass.” He stood up and his father nodded. “The nurse is right. You shouldn’t be drinking, but then you already know that.” He poured. “Enjoy.”
“Damned nurse,” muttered his father, taking a generous swallow. “But she takes care of me, I’ll say that for her.”
It was dark when Blaine left later that night. For the first couple of hours he and his father had engaged in some verbal fencing, but eventually they relaxed and started to enjoy each other’s company. Blaine had been interested to hear of the many facets of running a shipping company, and in turn Ham had peppered Blaine with questions about running a successful tattoo studio. They tip-toed around difficult subjects, but by the end of the evening, they agreed that Ham would come to Victoria as soon as he was able to walk.
“I’ll be damned if I go on an airplane in a wheelchair,” Ham said as he wheeled his chair to the front door. “This will be an incentive for me.” He smiled up at Blaine. “Good night Son, and have a good trip home tomorrow.”
Blaine gave him an awkward hug. “Good night, Dad. See you soon.”
“I WISH I COULD SAY I approve of this.” Jackie studied her granddaughter. “I know it’s been three weeks, but you’re still thin.”
Ariana had rarely seen her grandmother this flustered, and she spoke soothingly. “It’s only a few hours away, and I made a reservation so you’ll know where to find me if necessary.” She sat down next to her grandmother and took both of her hands. “I need this, Gran. Please don’t worry. I’ll call you every day.”
“What about Jeremy? He’s still your husband, even though you’ve started the paperwork for the divorce.”
Ariana pulled back. “I thought you didn’t like him.”
“I don’t. You know that. But what if he asks me where to find you?”
“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, but if he does ask, then you call me and I’ll call him back.” She waved a phone. “I’m turning off my phone, but I’ve purchased a temporary phone. Only you and Jodi have the number.”
“Tell me again why that’s necessary?”
“I just don’t want any distractions. If you knew how many calls and texts I get each day....”
“All right, I understand.” Jackie paused. “And Jodi knows where you’re going as well, right?”
“Yes, but she’s promised not to tell anyone.” She kissed her grandmother on the cheek. “I’m leaving early in the morning, so I’ll say goodnight now. Take care of yourself while I’m gone, okay?”
“All right.” Jackie still looked distracted. “I just want you to be happy, my dear.” She watched Ariana’s taillights disappear down the driveway. “And whatever you’re looking for, I hope you find it.”
* * *
BLAINE CHECKED HIS watch for the fifth time in as many minutes as the aircraft made its final approach into Victoria. He was beginning to wish he hadn’t agreed to let one of his employees pick him up at the airport. Danny was a talented artist, but he loved to talk; Blaine simply wanted to think about what he was going to say when he called Ariana. The sun glinted off the ocean as they came in over Sidney Spit and touched down. Home again.
* * *
BLAINE SPOTTED DANNY on the other side of the barrier and nodded, acknowledging his presence. Unable to wait any longer, he pulled out his phone and called Ariana.
“What the...” He stared at the display. “Her phone is turned off,” he muttered to himself. “I don’t want to leave a voicemail.” The day that had started out with so much promise had turned sour; he grabbed his bag and tried not to scowl at Danny.
“Good trip?” Danny had to hurry to keep up with Blaine’s impatient strides.
“Yeah, fine.” He slanted a sideways glance at his employee. “No messages for me, huh?”
“No, Boss.” They arrived at Danny’s SUV and Blaine tossed his bag in the back. “Where shall I drop you?”
Blaine hadn’t planned anything beyond contacting Ariana. “The studio, please. And thanks for coming to get me.” He turned and stared out the window. What had prompted Ariana to turn off her phone? Was she sick? He was quite sure Jodi would have told him, although he couldn’t be positive. It was unlike him to second guess his decisions, but maybe he shouldn’t have waited until he got home to contact her. But he’d wanted to look into those beautiful grey eyes when he told her...
“Change in plans,” he said as they headed down Wharf Street. “Let me out here, please.”
Danny hid his surprise well. “Okay. I’ll leave your suitcase at the studio.”
Blaine hadn’t stopped to consider that Jodi might not even be at work... although she practically lived at New Beginnings. He pulled open the door and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her behind the counter.
Something flickered in Jodi’s eyes when she spotted him, but he didn’t have time to figure it out. He waved his cell phone as though it were her fault he couldn’t reach Ariana.
“Is she okay?” he said without preamble.
Jodi studied the man across from her. He was even more appealing with that desperate look on his face, but she decided to go easy on him. “She’s fine,” she said. “A bit thin, maybe, but that’s to be expected.”
The relief on his face was instantaneous and for a moment she thought he was going to slump against the counter. “Thank God,” he said, pulling himself together. “Can you tell me where to find her?”
“I’m afraid not.” Jodi’s expression was unreadable.
“Do you at least know where she is?”
“Yes, and she’s safe.” Jodi’s gaze wandered around the studio as though she were trying to make up her mind about something. “She’s not in Victoria, Blaine. She needed to get away for a while.”
Blaine’s stomach plummeted. “Is he with her?”
The look on Jodi’s face gave him the answer before she spoke. “No. Jeremy isn’t with her, and he doesn’t know where she is, either.”
A small victory. But he needed to try once more. “Will you tell me, Jodi? Please. I’ll do whatever you say. I’ll call her if you think that’s best, but what I really want is to see her, face to face. I guess I told you that once before.”
“I understand, Blaine, and if it were up to me, I’d tell you, but I promised.”
He held up both hands in defeat. “Okay. I respect that.” He turned slowly. “If you change your mind, I keep my cell with me all the time.”
Jodi nodded. “Welcome back, Blaine.”
* * *
BLAINE DROVE THE FEW blocks to Dallas Road, hoping that ‘her’ bench wouldn’t be occupied. He knew why she went there; it was the perfect place to think. He parked and jogged across the lawn. Beyond the empty bench, the Strait of Juan de Fuca reflected the lowering sun, beaten copper in the late afternoon light. He sat down, stretched out his legs and draped both arms over the back of the bench.
Was he losing his sanity? For a month now, he’d thought of nothing but Ariana. Some might even say he was obsessed with her. All he knew was that unlikely as it seemed, he was in love with her. But how could he be in love with someone he’d only met once? Things like this only happened in romance novels, and even then, not frequently.
He closed his eyes and envisioned the way she’d looked that day. If he tried, he could remember every word they’d exchanged. Every look, every touch... he’d better not go there, or he’d embarrass himself.
He’d told her things he’d never told anyone else except Erin. Like the time his grandfather had taken him to the tattoo parlour. Interesting that he’d had such a close relationship with his grandfather, especially when it seemed that Ariana had the same with her grandmother.
He sat up abruptly. Her grandmother! Of course. Now if he could only remember her name. Lowering his head, he relived that part of the conversation. Jacqueline Beaumont, that was the name. He pulled out his cell phone and searched for her number, expecting it to be unlisted. But there it was. His heart started to pound.
* * *
“HELLO.”
“Good evening. May I please speak to Jacqueline Beaumont?”
“Who may I say is calling?”
“Blaine Bennett.”
“One moment please, Mr. Bennett.”
Blaine swallowed an unusual bout of nervousness.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Beaumont?”
“Yes.”
Blaine turned toward the security cameras. If she was watching, he wanted to make sure she saw him. “My name is Blaine Bennett and I’m in love with your granddaughter.”
There was a pause so brief he might have imagined it.
“Is that you in the black Range Rover outside my gate?”
Blaine couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Then I guess you’d better come in.” The gate swung slowly open.
* * *
DUSK HAD FALLEN BY the time Blaine drove through the gates and up the winding driveway. Backlit by a small chandelier in the foyer, Jacqueline Beaumont stood in the open doorway, studying him as he exited his vehicle.
Piercing grey eyes, much like Ariana’s, watched him approach. Fine white hair was brushed straight back, a stark contrast to rich purple lounging pajamas. Diamond stud earrings twinkled at her ears, her only jewelry except for a wedding band. Blaine liked her on sight.
Mrs. Beaumont extended her hand. “I was wondering when I’d get to meet you,” she said with a faint smile.
Blaine tried not to let his surprise show. “Has Ariana spoken of me?”
“No, young man, but I knew there must be someone.” She held his hand for a moment longer. “I suppose you should call me Jackie.”
“Thank you Mrs. Beau... er, Jackie.”
“Come,” she said, leading him into the house. “Let’s have our drinks in the conservatory.”
Jackie settled into a large chair, one leg curled beneath her. She indicated that he should sit and he chose a chair close to her and angled it so he could look directly into her eyes.
He didn’t know where to start.
“I’ve been to see Jodi,” he said tentatively, “and she says that Ariana is recovering well from the operation.”
“Yes, although I think she’s too thin.” Jackie studied him openly, her gaze lingering momentarily on what could be seen of his tattoo. “How do you know Ariana?”
Blaine hadn’t considered how it must have sounded to this woman when he announced that he loved her granddaughter. Did she think that he and Ariana had been having an affair?
“This is going to sound odd,” he said. “But Ariana and I have only met once.”
Something shifted behind those grey eyes. “Go on.”
“Actually,” he said, “I should back up. The first couple of times I saw her, I didn’t even talk to her. She was sitting on a park bench up on Dallas Road.” He sat back and observed her reaction. “Now that I’m telling you this, I realize how unlikely it sounds, but believe me, it was...”
A woman entered the conservatory and Jackie held up a hand. “Excuse me for interrupting, but would you care for something to drink? I usually have a martini at this time of the day.”
Blaine checked his watch. “I’d love a beer. I just arrived from Toronto, so it’s been a long day.”
“A martini and a beer please Maisie.” Jackie spoke to the housekeeper then returned her attention to Blaine. “I have a lot of questions for you, young man, but let’s get back to how you know my granddaughter.”
Blaine’s eyes took on a faraway look. “Do you believe in love at first sight, Mrs. Beaumont?”
Something flashed in the depths of her eyes and she nodded. “I do. I fell in love with my Nathan the moment I laid eyes on him. My father threatened to lock me up, but I eventually convinced him that I was serious, and we were married several months later.” She gave her head a quick shake. “But we were talking about you.”
“I’d been jogging,” he said, picking up the narrative. “And there she was, hunched over on that park bench.” He paused for a moment. “I had the strongest desire to protect her from whoever or whatever had made her sad. I had to physically hold myself back from going to that bench and picking her up in my arms.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I guess I’m sounding like a bit of a nutcase, but that’s the way it was. I felt like I knew her from somewhere, but I couldn’t figure out why. Later on I saw her picture on the side of a bus and I recognized her right away as the woman I couldn’t forget.” He looked up and accepted his beer, then continued.
“Then a few days later, I was in my studio and the receptionist asked me if I’d consult with a customer. I looked up and there she was. I’d been thinking about her constantly, and in that moment it was as if all of my dreams had come true.”
“Your studio.” Jackie took a sip of her martini then set the glass down carefully. “What do you do?”
“I’m a tattoo artist,” he said, rolling the beer bottle between his palms. “I own a studio down on Wharf Street, near Jodi’s place.”
A frown wrinkled Jackie’s brow. “She came to consult about a tattoo? I would have thought she had other things on her mind.”
“It was to do with her mastectomy.” Jackie winced at the word, but Blaine carried on. “After reconstructive surgery, many women have their breasts tattooed to more closely resemble what was there before. I’ve made it a bit of a specialty.”
“I didn’t know they did that.” Jackie lifted her glass and took a thoughtful sip. “So you’ve agreed to tattoo her when she’s healed.”
“Not exactly.” Blaine edged forward. “She was about to tell me what she wanted but then I think the enormity of what she was about to undergo hit her. She apologized for wasting my time and then ran out of the studio.” For a moment he was silent, a faint smile on his lips. “I followed her of course, and found her in the coffee shop just down the street. She had a good cry and then we had coffee. We talked about the simple things people talk about when they’re getting to know one another. I told her about my grandfather and she told me about you. Then I asked her why she’d come to the studio and she told me.” He allowed his gaze to drift outside while he gathered his thoughts. “It was a complete shock. I can’t imagine how I must have looked to her, but she took one look at the expression on my face and muttered something about her husband having the same reaction. I didn’t get a chance to explain.”
Jackie raised one elegant eyebrow in question.
“My wife died a little more than two years ago. I had started to date a woman a few days before; the first one in all that time. Talk about bad timing... she came into the coffee shop at that moment. Ariana took one look at her and left. Then I had to leave for Toronto the next morning on business.” He looked up. “Amber isn’t in my life anymore.”
“I’m not judging,” said Jackie. “You’re not expected to mourn for the rest of your life.”
Blaine’s relief was obvious. “Thank you for that. As to Ariana, there hasn’t been a day during the past month that I haven’t thought of her. I cut my trip short to get back here.”
“You’re not drinking your beer,” said Jackie with a wry smile.
“No,” said Blaine, lifting the bottle to his lips. “I’m nervous.”
“I have one question for you,” said Jackie. “No, two.”
Blaine spread his hands.
“Why did you have such a negative reaction? It sounds to me as though you’ve seen many women who’ve had mastectomies.”
He looked at her evenly. “That was something I wanted to tell Ariana first, but I guess I owe you an explanation.” He took a deep breath. “Two and a half years ago, my wife had a double mastectomy, but it was too late. She died a few months later.”
Jackie had been about to take a drink, but set her glass down. “You loved her very much.”
Blaine raised haunted eyes. “Yes, I did.”
Jackie nodded. “My second question is what do you want from me?”
“I was hoping if I told you how I feel, you’d tell me where I can find Ariana. I asked Jodi, but she’s a good friend and promised not to tell.” Watching the older woman carefully, he thought of a dozen more things he could say to try to sway her, but opted for silence.
Jackie studied him for several long minutes. When she finally spoke, he knew she’d decided in his favor.
“She’s still a married woman,” she said.
Blaine nodded. “But she’s not happy.”
“I have my own opinions about the state of her marriage, but that’s something you’ll need to discuss with her.”
Blaine grinned. “You can count on it.”
“She’s at Long Beach. Walking on the sand and getting her strength back.” She gave him the name of the resort. “She has a suite on the ground floor because she was concerned about climbing the stairs, but as I said, she’s getting stronger every day.” An affectionate smile softened her face. “I won’t tell you not to hurt her, because it’s obvious you’d never do that.” She leaned forward and laid a delicate hand on one of his. “Take care of her, my boy. She needs someone like you in her life.”
THE DRIVE TO LONG BEACH was more exhausting than Ariana had anticipated. She took a break in Port Alberni to load up on groceries and then continued on, arriving late in the afternoon, just as the sun was disappearing into the distant haze.
Leaving the unpacking until later, she walked outside, took a deep breath, and knew instantly that she’d made the right decision. At home in Victoria the physical healing had started, but this was where her spirit longed to be.
A low hedge of salal grew between the lawn and the beach beyond. Ariana made her way through one of several breaks in the vegetation and stepped onto the sand. The beach stretched in a gentle curve for several miles to the south. A rocky headland in the distance was partly shrouded in mist from the crashing waves. Perhaps by the time she was ready to leave, she’d be able to walk that far. For today, it was enough to know that it was there, a magnificent goal to be attained.
She sauntered slowly along the sand, picking up a shell here and there. Great long strands of seaweed littered the beach like otherworldly creatures. Childlike, she stepped on the air sacs in the leaves, delighting in the crisp ‘pop’.
Not willing to go back yet, she sat on a bleached log not far from the path leading to her suite. Couples of various ages strolled the sand and she watched them interact. It was easy to see which of them were happy. They didn’t need to be holding hands; there was closeness in the way they always knew where the other was, and in the way they came together once in a while to show what they’d discovered embedded in the sand. The newlyweds were easy to spot; their arms wrapped around each other. She smiled to herself and silently wished them well.
Oddly enough, she felt no bitterness at the sight of the happy couples. During her recovery, Jeremy had surprised her by respecting her request to be left alone. The break had given her time to consider their relationship and she reluctantly admitted that they never should have been married in the first place. No doubt her mother-in law would say that she should have done more to fight for the marriage, but she’d never be that person again. To her way of thinking, she shouldn’t have to fight for someone’s love. They either loved you or they didn’t, and her days of being needy were over.
She slipped down from the log and made her way slowly back to her accommodations. Tomorrow’s forecast was for a sunny day; she planned to read, walk on the beach, and sleep, not necessarily in that order. While she didn’t know how she would have managed without Carly’s help, not to mention Jodi and her grandmother, it was liberating to be on her own now. Of course the company of a certain green-eyed tattoo artist would not go amiss, but that scenario happened only in her dreams. This was reality, where dreams seldom come true.
* * *
“HELLO, HONEY!” THE Golden Retriever ran to Ariana, tail wagging. The dog had greeted her with the same enthusiasm every day; Ariana would miss her. “You’re leaving today?” she asked Barney and Shirley, the friendly older couple who owned the dog. They’d been considering extending their stay, but a family emergency had called them back home.
“Afraid so.” Barney watched as a surfer caught a wave, then turned back to his wife with a smile. “We hate to leave, but we’ve already planned to come back next year.”
“I know what you mean. Time goes by much too quickly here on the edge of the world.” A rare glass float had washed up on the beach a couple of days ago, causing a flurry of excitement. Floats from Japanese fishing nets had been commonplace along this coast of the Island at one time, but now were few and far between.
“Good luck to you, my dear.” Ariana had revealed only that she was recovering from an operation, and Shirley had managed to curtail her curiosity. “I hope we see you next year.”
Ariana laughed. “You never know.” She bent over to pat the dog, and then shook hands with both Barney and Shirley. “Drive carefully.”
They wandered up through the break in the salal, whistled to the dog and then disappeared from sight. For the past week they had been a constant in Ariana’s day, stopping for a few moments’ chat. She would miss them.
Maybe it’s time for me to consider leaving as well, she thought to herself, trudging through the sand until she came to her favourite log. Part of the jumble of logs along the high tide mark, it offered welcome shelter when the wind kicked up. The trunk was easily five feet in diameter, and there was evidence of children having built a fort at one time. Now all that remained were some loose planks and a perfect spot to sit and think.
With the fresh salt air clearing out the cobwebs of her mind, Ariana’s easiest decision had been to proceed with the divorce. It was a relief to know she’d already set the wheels in motion. As to the disposition of the business, she’d decided on that as well. She would sell her share and step away. Not difficult to do when she considered what she was about to undertake. It would be nice to have a partner for the new project, but she had no doubt that she would meet plenty of energetic women who would help her out. Only one question remained, and that was Blaine. Could she work with him without constantly being reminded of the look in his eyes when she told him of her mastectomy? Touched as she had been by his rose, she admitted that she might be reading more into the two-word message than was really there. ‘Forgive Me’ was hardly a declaration of love.
But even if she’d imagined the spark between them, Blaine Bennett figured prominently in her future plans. She needed his skills as a tattoo artist and if that meant fighting her attraction for him, she would do it, no matter how hard that proved to be.
Lost in thought, she hadn’t noticed the dark clouds. Heavy with rain, they hung ominously overhead. She rose and stretched her arms above her head, delighted to feel her flexibility returning. A gust of wind caught at her hair, swirling it about her head and she laughed at how she must look... a wild, carefree woman welcoming the oncoming deluge with upraised arms.
BLAINE TURNED RIGHT on the Pacific Rim Highway. A magnificent corridor leading to Long Beach, it was flanked by tall firs and cedars on both sides of the road. “Should be somewhere along here,” he murmured, watching for the sign that announced the resort. He’d looked it up online last night, and his homework paid off as he turned into the driveway. Just in time; the dark clouds gathering overhead would soon make it difficult to see.
He sat for a moment outside the reception building and wondered what he’d do if she refused to talk to him. He’d envisioned this scenario many times, and not once had he allowed himself to consider rejection. There was only one way to find out, and that wouldn’t happen sitting here.
“Good afternoon. I’m visiting Mrs. Logan and I was wondering if you would call her room.”
The clerk nodded warily. “Certainly, Sir.” She held the phone to her ear for several moments, then turned back. “Sorry, she doesn’t seem to be answering. You might find her on the beach, however. She walks most afternoons at this time.”
“Thank you.” Blaine paused beside the basket of umbrellas beside the door. “May I take one of these? It looks like we’ll be having rain at any moment.”
“Of course. Those are for the guests.” She came around from behind the desk and peered outside. “I see what you mean. One of the joys of this area is the changeable weather.”
Blaine headed for the beach, admiring the layout of the resort as he passed. Tucked in amongst tall trees, the buildings were angled toward the ocean, affording each unit a view from a balcony; he could see why Ariana had chosen to stay here. His steps dragged, suddenly fearful of what he might find. He’d never been this unsure of himself in his life, and yet knowing that she was close, he was drawn inexorably to the beach, where fat drops of rain were just starting to fall.
As he stepped onto the sand, his apprehension faded away like the windswept sea spume. Oblivious to the rain, his gaze was drawn to the broad expanse of beach and he knew in that instant why friends had described this as the most beautiful place on earth. Clutching the rolled-up umbrella in one hand, he started to walk and with each step the tight knot of nerves at the base of his skull loosened.
A laughing couple passed him, the woman tugging at the man as they dashed across the sand to their suite. Smiling at their antics, he continued walking, but stopped when he saw a figure materialize out of the distant mist. Was he mistaken, or was she dancing? Arms held high, she raised her face to the drops of rain, and he thought she laughed, but the wind snatched away the sound.
Even with her hair plastered in wet strands against her skull, he would have recognized Ariana anywhere, and in that moment he knew that he would love her for the rest of their lives, no matter what happened today. His first instinct was to run and sweep her into his arms, but he wasn’t about to scare her off twice in a row. Besides, he was having too much fun watching her. Gone was the sad, hunched-over women from the park bench in Victoria. The Ariana he saw dancing on the sand appeared carefree, as though life had given her a do-over and she was determined to enjoy every second.
He forced his feet to keep walking at an even pace, closing the distance between them. As he watched, she ran down the tightly packed sand toward the water and stopped abruptly, waiting for the foam from the waves to come hissing up the beach and cover her feet. With a childlike squeal of delight she ran back up the beach and almost barreled into him.
Standing there panting, her eyes widened. “Blaine?” she said, looking all around as though she may have conjured him from her imagination. “What are you doing here?”
He wondered if she could see his heart thudding in his chest. “I came to see you,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I missed you.”
Rain pelted down but neither seemed to notice.
“I thought you were in Toronto.” She looked at him through eyelashes heavy with rain.
“I was, but I came back early.” He looked down at the umbrella in his hand and started to unfurl it. “I brought this along for you,” he said, feeling foolish. “Do you want it?”
“No,” she said, ignoring the umbrella and staring into his eyes. “Did you say you missed me?”
“Every day. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I came back, but you’d disappeared.” He tried to scowl at her. “You’re good at that.”
“But...” Rain was streaming down her face, but he was fairly sure he saw tears in there somewhere. “When I told you about the mastectomy, you were horrified.”
He closed the remaining distance between them and held out a hand. “How about you make me a cup of coffee, and I’ll explain.”
She looked at his hand for several long moments, then slipped hers into it. “I’d like that,” she said simply. “Follow me.”
“TURN ON THE FIREPLACE, would you? I’m going to get us a couple of towels so we can dry off.” Ariana grabbed the towels, then stopped to look in the bathroom mirror. She had taken very little care with her appearance since coming here, but the neglect seemed to bring out the sparkle in her eyes and a flush in her cheeks. Or was that due to the man in the other room? He’d missed her, he said, and she hugged the towels to her chest, wincing slightly at the contact.
“That’s my kind of fireplace,” she said, handing him a towel. “One flick of the switch and voila... fire.” She draped the other towel around her neck, walked into the kitchen and popped a pod into the coffee maker. As the cup started to fill, it occurred to her that she was in a hotel room with a man she scarcely knew. Yet it seemed as though she’d known him forever. Watching the coffee, she didn’t hear him come up behind her.
“May I do that?” he asked, lifting the towel from her shoulders and covering her head. His touch was sure and gentle as he dried her hair, and she clutched at the counter to keep her knees from turning to jelly.
“I can do it,” she said, hoping he’d never stop.
“Let me,” he said, turning her around and brushing a few wisps of dry hair away from her face with his fingertips. His gaze lingered on her lips, and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. “I promised your grandmother I’d take care of you,” he said, handing the towel back to her. “And I always keep my promises.”
“You met Jackie? How?”
“Are you going to make another coffee?”
“Yes, of course, but I still want to hear how you met Jackie.” She handed him the finished coffee and popped in another pod. “You take yours black, right?”
“You remembered,” he said, with a soft, intimate smile.
“I remember everything we talked about that day,” she said. “And we’ll get back to that, but tell me how you met Jackie.”
He made himself comfortable in one of the overstuffed chairs that flanked the fireplace. “I remembered everything we said as well,” he said, cocking his head as though listening to the conversation. “You told me your grandmother’s name was Jacqueline Beaumont. So I phoned her and said I wanted to talk about you.” He grinned at the memory. “She invited me over. I had beer and she had a martini.”
She studied him from the chair opposite as he took a drink of coffee. “She must have liked you.”
He lifted his shoulders. “We got along fairly well. She’s no pushover, but she trusted me enough to tell me where you’re staying, and here I am.” He set down his coffee mug, stood up and headed for the kitchen. “One sugar and a splash of cream, right?”
“Yes.”
He prepared her coffee and brought it to her.
“Thank you,” she said, unable to meet his eyes. She was tempted to prompt him for his story, but knew he’d tell her when he was ready. He wandered to the French doors and stood there looking out. The rain had stopped and a pale sun was making an attempt to break through. “I see what she meant,” he murmured, then reclaimed his chair. “The receptionist at the office said the weather was unpredictable.”
He stayed silent for several long minutes. Ariana watched as he gathered his thoughts, then began to speak.
“When I saw you out there on the beach today I knew I was right to come here.” He looked up. “Even if it turned out that you never wanted to see me again, I knew I had to apologize for the way I left things between us. First of all, Amber is no longer in my life. She and I had dated a few times, and although she’s a nice woman, it wasn’t going anywhere.” He looked her straight in the eye and she acknowledged his remark with a faint smile and a nod.
“I told you I was married.”
Ariana’s gaze flickered to the tattoo of lips on the side of his neck.
“Erin was a great girl. We had one of those relationships that everyone envies.” He thought for a moment. “I don’t think I ever saw her stressed out. That made her easy to live with, but it was also her undoing.”
Ariana frowned.
“She avoided anything unpleasant, including going to the doctor when she didn’t feel well. She’d laugh off my concerns and call me an old fuddy-duddy.”
Ariana watched him fight the familiar demons.
“For a long time after she died, I blamed myself. Told myself that if I’d insisted, she might have gone, but in reality she’d probably have pretended to go, then reported that everything was fine.” He lifted his coffee mug then set it down again without drinking. “She had breast cancer. The doctors did a bilateral mastectomy, but it had spread to several places in her body. She died a few months later.”
“I’m so sorry,” Ariana whispered. What else was there to say?
He continued talking as though he hadn’t heard. “So when you mentioned the bilateral mastectomy, it all came back to me. I’d fallen in love with you, and now you were telling me I might lose you. It was...”
Ariana slid onto the floor and walked across the rug on her knees. Placing one hand on either side of his chair, she looked into his eyes. “Did you just say you loved me?”
He cupped her face with one hand. The expression on his face left little doubt as to how he felt. “Ariana Logan, I fell in love with you the first moment I saw you sitting on a park bench on Dallas Road.” He combed his fingers through her hair. “There was something about the way you were sitting there, rocking back and forth...” His voice cracked. “I had no idea how I’d ever get to see you again. I started jogging up and down that path every day and I saw you once more, but on that same day I saw your picture on the side of a bus and I realized you were married.” His eyes held a thousand questions. “But to answer your question, yes, I said I love you. That will never change, no matter what.”
She looked at him through eyes brimming with tears. “But how can you love me when you scarcely know me? That’s not possible, is it?”
He gave her a slow, devastatingly sexy smile. “If it was anyone else, I might agree. But it’s happened, and believe me, it’s real.”
“That’s good to know.”
“Yeah?” He pulled her to her feet.
“Yes, because I love you, too.” She placed a hand flat on his chest. “Do you know how many times I’ve wondered what it would be like to kiss you?”
“No,” he said, gathering her gently into his arms. “But you can stop counting.”
He nibbled gently on her bottom lip, watching her with those jade eyes as she responded.
“I want you, Blaine.” Her body trembled with desire. “But I’m not quite ready yet.”
“I know,” he said, his touch gentle. “But I can wait.” He deposited a trail of kisses along her neck, then pulled back to look at her chest. “How do you feel?”
“Better all the time,” she said, as though discussing her medical condition was an everyday occurrence for them. “I can still feel a twinge if I exert myself too much, though.”
A devilish look lit his eyes. “Another good reason to wait.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I want you to feel much more than a twinge when we finally make love.”
She smiled into his eyes. “Are we going to make love, Blaine?”
“You can count on it,” he said, his voice raspy with barely contained need. “Until that time, I’m content to just be with you.” He pulled back. “When can you start divorce proceedings?”
She feigned surprise. “You want me to get divorced?”
“If you’re going to marry me, I think it would be a good idea.”
“Now there you go again,” she said, tapping his lips with her forefinger. “Assuming I want you.”
“You want me,” he said, his eyes darkening with desire. “Almost as much as I want you.” He sat down and pulled her into his lap. “Ariana Logan, will you marry me?”
This was what it was supposed to be like, she thought as she lowered her head to kiss him. Two people who wanted each other so much they might possibly explode. “I’ll marry you the moment I’m free,” she said, sweeping her tongue across his sculpted lips, searching for entry. “And the divorce is already in the works.”
“Bonus,” murmured Blaine, then kissed her until she couldn’t think straight.
“LET’S GO FOR A WALK,” suggested Ariana after a leisurely breakfast. She checked the tide charts conveniently left in the room. “We should see some surfers.”
They wandered slowly down to the beach, hand in hand. Neither of them had been overly disappointed to learn that there were no rooms available last night. Ariana occupied a two-bedroom unit; paying for a second suite would have seemed pointless even if there was one available. Sure that he wouldn’t be able to sleep with Ariana in the adjoining bedroom, Blaine was surprised to wake up completely rested.
“Was that Jodi on the phone this morning?” he asked.
Ariana blushed. “She was worried that I didn’t phone last night, but when I told her you were here, she seemed to understand.”
Blaine gave a pretend shudder. “I don’t know who scares me the most, Jodi or your grandmother.”
Ariana pretended to consider his remark. “That’s a tough one all right, but I think Jodi’s softening toward you. She seemed concerned that you’d driven all the way out here after flying from Toronto the previous day.” She squeezed his hand and leaned into him. “I guess she’s the one who gave you the name of the hospital and the date of the surgery.”
He smiled down at her. “You got the rose?”
“I still have it. I’m pressing it between the pages of a huge cookbook.”
“Sorry I didn’t sign the card, but I didn’t want to cause trouble with your husband.”
“No trouble.” She gazed into the distance. The morning mist hadn’t burned off the ocean yet, and it was difficult to tell precisely where the sea and sky met. “When I received that rose from you I realized I’d been selling myself short all this time; that I’d never really loved Jeremy.”
Blaine walked in silence for a bit longer. “Does he know about the divorce yet? Will he fight you?”
“No.” She thought back to the conversations between herself and Jeremy. “He called me a few names, but that was partly because his male ego had been damaged. He gave up rather easily, in fact.”
“I can’t imagine anyone letting you go without a fight.”
“Thank you for saying that. When I realized he was more concerned what would happen to the business, I knew it was time to walk away.”
Blaine frowned. “What are his concerns?”
“I own fifty-five percent of the real estate company. He’s worried I’ll sell my controlling share to someone.”
He stopped walking. “Are you going to quit?” He pulled her around to face him. “I’ve always thought that must be a tough business, being on call the way you are. I want you to do what makes you happy, but I’d love to see you quit.”
She stepped into him, content in the safety of his arms. “How did I get so lucky?” she asked, brushing her lips against his. “Just think, if I hadn’t had this mastectomy, I wouldn’t have met you.”
“Not true,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. “I would have hunted you down.”
“And then what?” she asked, her eyes aglow.
“And then this.” He lowered his head and kissed her gently, fighting the urge to crush her to his chest. “I don’t know which is worse,” he groaned. “Waiting for you to heal, or waiting for your divorce.”
“Well, there’s something I’ve been wanting to discuss with you.”
He pulled back. “This sounds serious.”
“It is,” she said, continuing their walk. “When I was in the hospital, I realized how many women didn’t have nearly the help I did. I’d like to start a center where female oncology patients can find support.” She glanced over at him and saw a flare of interest. “I’d like to buy one of the large old homes in a residential area and turn it into a support centre for women who are facing mastectomies, but more importantly for those who’ve already had the surgery. There are so many areas where we can help. I’ve been making notes while I’ve been here, and it’s an ambitious project, but why not?”
“I like the sound of this. What types of services were you thinking of offering?”
“What got me started was the tattooing. I’d like to offer your services for free to the women who want it.”
He shrugged. “I already do that.”
Her eyes widened. “You do?”
“It’s not something I advertise, or everyone would want free tattoos, but yes, I’ve been doing them free for a couple of years now.”
“Come on, let’s sit over here.” She dragged him to a log. “I’d like to have an area where we can pamper the women before their operations. You know – hair dressing, pedicures, that sort of thing. They’ll need that type of service even more after they’re out of the hospital. Then there’s help with special clothing, help with prosthetics, even simple things like arranging babysitting for their kids when they need a break.” The ideas came spilling out. “It would be a place where women come to talk to each other. Share ideas. Bring in professional counsellors who advise on how to deal with all the life changes, both before and after the surgery. We could even help support the odd few who lose their jobs by giving them a place to stay for a few months.” She turned to find him regarding her with a look of amazement.
“And I thought of something else this morning when I woke up.”
He gestured for her to continue.
“I’d like to call it Erin’s Place. After your wife.”
Tears brimmed in his eyes and he slipped an arm around her waist. “Thank you,” he said simply. “Erin would have loved that.”
Ariana remained silent while he gazed out to sea, absorbing her words. “It’ll take money,” he said finally.
“I know,” she said. “But my assets are worth a small fortune.” She watched a seagull land on the beach, and her words slowed. “It’s amazing how something like breast cancer makes you see things in a whole new light. I’m looking forward to doing something worthwhile for a change.” The seagull flew off. “And I know Jackie will want to help financially.”
“I can help,” he said thoughtfully. “My grandfather wasn’t a sophisticated man, but he was a savvy investor. He left me a pile of money. And my father owns a Great Lakes shipping company.” He grinned at her. “I think we’ve got it covered.”
Blaine picked up a piece of driftwood and studied it for a moment. “Did I hear you tell Jodi you’re coming home tomorrow?”
“I’m afraid so,” she said reluctantly. “But think how quickly the days and weeks are going to pass while we work on this new project.” She slipped down from the log and stood with her back to him, studying the distant horizon. “Promise me one thing,” she said, arching her neck.
“Anything.” He nuzzled her just below her ear.
“Promise me you’ll bring me back here.” She turned in his arms, her eyes full of promise. “Soon.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “I promise.”
“ARE YOU SURE, ARIANA?” Jeremy leafed through the paperwork one more time.
“I’m sure,” she said. “You’re the best person to run this business if I’m not here.”
He had the good sense to look sheepish. “Thanks, but after the nasty things I said to you, I thought you’d sell to someone else to get back at me.”
She gave a dry laugh. “It occurred to me, but our fathers worked hard to build up this business and it should stay in the family. Besides, I knew it would be a quick sale, and I have things I want to get on with.”
He rose from his chair and came around to perch on the corner of his desk. “I’ve heard a few rumblings, but nobody seems to know exactly what you’re doing.”
He listened with growing interest as she told him of her plans for Erin’s Place.
“How are you going to fund it?” he asked immediately. “Think of the great publicity if the firm were to back something like that.” He grinned.
“We’ve had some generous donations already. And I’m off to visit Jackie now. I know she’ll want to get involved.”
“I’m serious, Ariana. Get back to me. I’d like to help out in some way.”
“All right,” she said tentatively, now quite sure how to deal with this new Jeremy. “If I don’t get back to you, you’ll hear from Jackie.”
“I’ll look forward to it.” He walked her to the front door and continued outside. “I understand the divorce will be final in a few weeks.”
“Yes.” She pretended to fumble with her keys so he wouldn’t see the expression of joy on her face.
“I’m sorry it came to this,” he said, stumbling over his words. “But I wish you well.”
“Thanks, Jeremy.” She climbed into her car and pulled out of the parking lot. It wasn’t until she was several blocks away that she realized he hadn’t looked at her breasts.
* * *
A SUBTLE CHANGE CAME over Jackie as Ariana laid out her plans. Her grandmother’s piercing violet-grey eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and Ariana could almost see the ideas bouncing around in her head.
“And you say you’ve already narrowed it down to choosing between two houses?” Jackie didn’t wait for a response. “Make sure you buy in a good location. Go over your budget if necessary; you know you can count on me to make up any shortfall.”
“Yes, but I don’t think that will be necessary. Blaine and I were hoping you’d come and look at them with us.” Ariana’s voice softened. “He’s been wonderful.”
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. I’d be happy to help you choose, but in the meantime, I see a different role for me in this project.”
Ariana waited.
“You’ll need someone to spearhead your fundraising, and that’s where I fit it. I’ve already set up a lunch date with some of my poker playing buddies. Bankers and lawyers mostly, but they’ll advise me on setting up a Charitable Trust, or whatever they call it these days. They’ll probably fall all over themselves to see who can donate the most.” She came alive as she spoke. “It’s about time I was able to benefit from knowing everyone in this town with a high net worth.”
“Perfect,” said Ariana. “That’s a big load off my shoulders.”
Jackie made a shooing motion with her hands. “Now you run along. You’re a busy girl and I have work to do.”
* * *
“WELCOME BACK, STRANGER.” Jodi was finishing up with a personal client when Ariana arrived at the fitness studio. “Nice of you to stop by.”
“I’m sorry, Jodi. I’ve been so busy.”
Jodi grabbed a couple of bottles of water and led them both to the juice bar. “Just kidding.” She sat on a stool and drained half the bottle in one long swallow. “You look fabulous, by the way. Mr. Tattoo Man has put a sparkle in your eyes I haven’t seen for years.”
Ariana tipped up her bottle, but couldn’t hide her grin. “He’s amazing all right.”
Jodi lowered her voice. “So what’s this about a women’s center? You can’t just feed me bits and pieces, you know. Out with it.”
Ariana went over the details once more and Jodi’s head bobbed up and down as she spoke. “I love the idea of buying an old home. So much better than some institutional-type building.” Her gaze wandered around the studio, but for once Ariana couldn’t tell what her friend was thinking.
“What is it?” she asked.
“What about yoga classes?” Jodi woumd a strand of hair around her finger, the same way she’d always done when thinking. “I could come up with something to get people moving after a couple of weeks.” She narrowed her eyes. “That’s about right, isn’t it?”
Ariana nodded. “Each woman’s recovery time varies, but they’ll know when they’re ready. I love the idea.”
“Good. I’ll work on that.” She’d finished her water, so she grabbed Ariana’s and finished that as well. “I’ll arrange my schedule so I can teach most of the classes myself for the first couple of months. Later on, I’ll turn some of the classes over to one of my assistants.” That decided, she sat back and wiggled her eyebrows, a la Groucho Marx. “So how are you going to fit a honeymoon into all of this?”
“I’m not sure, but we’ll manage. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy.”
“Ha!” Jodi’s shout drew the attention of a couple of customers. “Judging by the heat that passes between the two of you every time you’re in the same room, you won’t even know where you are.” She reached out and touched her friend. “Promise me you’ll take a few days, though, okay? You deserve it.”
Tears blurred Ariana’s vision but she smiled at her friend. “We will. Erin’s Place opens the day after the divorce is final, and we’ll probably get married the next day.” Ariana blushed. “Blaine doesn’t want to wait any longer.”
Jodi cocked an eyebrow. “Can’t say I blame him. That man lurves you, girl!”
“Do you think so?”
Jodi made a disgusted face and hopped down from her stool. “Stop being so needy and get out of here.” She gave Ariana a quick hug. “See you soon.”
ERIN’S PLACE WAS DECLARED officially open on a gentle summer evening in late August. Situated on a large treed lot in the Fairfield area, it had been recently updated to reflect modern tastes.
Flanked by Blaine and Jackie, Ariana stood under the porte cochere and welcomed a true cross-section of Victorians. Jackie had worked her usual magic to line up donors of both money and goods, and insisted on paying for an interior designer who had created a gracious but functional atmosphere.
Representatives of the medical community, including the head of oncology praised Ariana’s generosity, but she simply smiled and deflected the compliments to Jackie.
A chart in one of the many common rooms outlined the schedule of events for the next month. During the exhaustive process of setting up the facility, Ariana had met many cancer survivors, and she hired three of them to rotate as house managers. They mingled among the guests, patiently explaining the range of services that would be offered at Erin’s Place.
Toward the end of the evening, Jeremy arrived. Startled when Ariana slipped her hand into his, Blaine looked up, searching for the cause of her sudden tension.
“Come on,” he murmured into her ear. “Let’s go and greet him together.”
“Glad you could make it,” said Ariana, offering her hand. “And thank you for the donation.”
Jeremy waved her comment away, focused on Blaine’s hand at Ariana’s waist. “And you are?”
Blaine responded smoothly. “Blaine Bennett.”
Jeremy frowned, and Ariana recognized that he’d had a bit too much to drink. “Are you a friend of my wife’s?”
Blaine drew her closer and gazed into her eyes. “I’m more than a friend, and she’s not your wife anymore, if you recall.” The steel in his voice sobered Jeremy. “As a matter of fact, we’re getting married tomorrow.”
“You’re...” Jeremy looked from one to the other. “Then I guess congratulations are in order.”
“Thank you,” said Ariana, then turned to Blaine. “We should check on our other guests. If we’re not careful, Jackie will fleece your father in a poker game.”
Blaine laughed. “As long as the winner makes a generous donation.”
Ariana and Blaine stood in the doorway to the library, watching the people they loved play poker. Ham Bennett had arrived two days ago to attend the wedding. His generous donation of four million dollars would ensure smooth operation of Erin’s Place for several years to come, but Jackie had not publicized it. “We want everyone to believe we can’t get along without their donation,” she confided, sotto voice. “Let’s not deny them that pleasure.” Ham had barked out a laugh, but didn’t disagree.
Blaine’s mother had surprised them by arriving yesterday, accompanied by her new man. Tall and imposing, he dwarfed the smaller woman, who seemed almost giddy in his presence.
“I came to check on you, my dear, but I see now that wasn’t necessary.” Mitzi Bennett kissed Ariana on both cheeks. “You two light up the room when you look at each other.”
In a corner of the room, Jodi played a quiet game of backgammon with Blaine’s friend Shaun. Shaun was due to leave on deployment in a couple of weeks, but Jodi had announced that she was prepared to enjoy his company in the meantime. There were times when Ariana suspected that Jodi didn’t want a permanent relationship, but that was something to consider at another time. Tonight and tomorrow were for celebration. The wedding would be private, with only Jackie and Ham, Mitzi and Brendan, and Jodi and Shaun as witnesses. Blaine had arranged a charter flight to the landing strip at Long Beach, where they would spend their honeymoon.
A SLOW, SATISFIED SMILE spread over Ariana’s face as she recalled the way Blaine had made love to her last night. Only now, when she recalled the passion of his lovemaking, did she appreciate how difficult it must have been for him to wait for her all this time. He’d taken her to heights she’d never reached before, and she fell back onto the bed, anticipating the rest of the weekend.
She opened her eyes to find him standing over her. A pair of jogging pants hung low on his hips, and she swallowed at the sight of his chest. “You’re awake,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed and brushing the hair from her face. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” she said, her throat dry. “How about you?” She ran her fingers over the tattoo on his shoulder.
“Keep that up and you’ll find out,” he growled. “I thought maybe you’d like some coffee.”
“I would,” she said, sitting up and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Later.”
It was much later by the time they wandered down to the beach, coffee in hand.
“Your Dad seemed to get along well with Jackie,” said Ariana, watching a surfer in a wetsuit.
He looked at her sharply. “You don’t think there’s something going on there, do you?”
Ariana thought for a moment. “No, I don’t think so. They’re too set in their ways. I think they just enjoy challenging each other.”
“Nothing wrong with that, I suppose.” He drained his mug and set it on the log. “He’s already asking me about grandchildren.”
“Me, too.”
“He asked you about grandchildren?”
Ariana laughed. “No, I mean Jackie. She’s informed me that she wants at least two.”
“And what about you? We were so busy getting Erin’s Place ready we didn’t really talk about this.”
“A couple of kids would be nice,” she said, gazing into the distance.
“Nice?” he said, pretending to be offended. “I don’t do nice, Mrs. Bennett.”
“Oh?” She cocked an eyebrow. “What do you do, Mr. Bennett?”
“You mean you didn’t notice last night? And again this morning?”
She gave him her most innocent look. “I have a short memory.”
“Then I’ll have to remind you, young lady.” He picked her up and carried her back toward their suite. “I do passionate, sensual, stimulating and erotic.” He kicked open the door. “But most important of all, I do loving.” He laid her down on the bed. “I love you, Ariana Bennett. That’s what I do best.”
“Show me again,” she whispered breathlessly.
And he did.
* * * The End * * *
