The Turning Tides (Marina's Tales) (27 page)

“Think about Ethan,” Cruz coached me.

“Now she looks sad,” the photographer pointed out.

Cruz pressed his lips together
.
“Think about surfing,” he suggested. And I did.

I thought about surfing with Ethan, remembering the proud smile in his eyes, and how much fun it was to play under sunny skies with him. When things
with Ethan
were going right, there was no better feeling, and the shoot went smoothly. Soon, everyone was congratulating everyone else, and Cruz and I were on our way out the door.

We had a concert to attend.

We got back to Cruz’s apartment with hardly any time to spare. He brought me into his studio where a dozen or so black outfits from his new collection were hanging on the wall like works of art. I inspected them in awe, going from piece to piece. He’d returned to his original edgy, steampunk style, and it kept getting better and better.

“Cruz,” I gasped, wandering from one intricate piece to another,
“They remind me of the first things you showed me.”

“Back by popular demand,” he said lightly, then suddenly worried, “Is that a bad thing?”

“Don’t be ridiculous! They’re spectacular! They’re amazing!” I gushed.

“Well,” he said impatiently, “Try something on already!”

I couldn’t pick my favorite, so Cruz chose an aggressive looking dress, embellished with patent leather that made up most of the bodice. Small stiff ruffles lined in blood red satin curved around the hips, flashing provocatively when I moved.

“I was inspired by the Louboutin pump,” he said, “What do you think?”

“I think I can borrow a pair from Evie,” I said, turning around to admire the intricately woven straps on the back, “that would look killer with this.”

I slipped out of the dress and gave it back to Cruz to do a few last minute alterations. I already had my hair and makeup done, so I sat talking with Cruz while he sewed.

We were both looking forward to seeing Megan perform to a large crowd.
Cruz had designed several new gowns just for the show, and I made plans to go early with him and help style her for the stage. He clutched my arm dramatically, “Wait until you see the grand finale gown!”

“I
can’t wait
,”
I smiled.
I tried to be enthusiastic, but all I could think about was how much better
everything
would be with Ethan by my side.

“Would you mind sitting with Brad in the box seat? Megan’s gonna need me backstage, and I don’t want to make him watch all alone.”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Marina…” H
e turned to me seriously, “Please try to be nice to Brad… He thinks you hate him because of his father.”

“Of course
I don’t
!” I protested, thinking that if anything I was giving Brad the benefit of the doubt because of Cruz.

“Well, he gets nervous around you… He thinks you don’t trust him. He says you look at him like you’re constantly judging him.”

“Do I?” I asked, surprised.

Cruz shot me a glance that spoke volumes.

“Well… I don’t
mean
to seem that way.”
He had described precisely the way Ruby made me feel, and I grimaced at the comparison.

“Don’t get all stressed out,” he
reached over and
squeezed my hand
.
“He’ll get over it. After all… I don’t
mean
half the stuff I say!”

Cruz finished the alterations, and I took the dress, leaving to stop by Evie’s for the shoes. When I got to her door, she opened it herself, and I couldn’t help but noticing how nice she looked.

Evie was always impeccably groomed, but she was particularly beautiful tonight. Her
pale
blond hair was loosely plaited into a twist at the nape of her neck, and she wore a flowing white gown with gold trim. She
smoothed her dress
self-consciously,
and
tuck
ed
a stray
lock of
hair behind her swinging golden earrings. She looked like a goddess. A nervous goddess.

“Jaques called and told me the shoot went like a dream,” she said.

“I guess,” I followed her as she rushed me to her shoe closet, “What do you have planned for tonight?”

“Just having a friend over for a quiet pre-trip dinner,” she said breezily.

“Who?” I asked.

She ignored my question, holding up the dress Cruz had chosen for me with a sigh, “Fabulous… simply fabulous. It’s genius really–
His latest
collection is simply to die for! Such a shame I can’t wear any of it.”

“Why not?” I
was surprised.
“You’d look great in them!”

She looked at me with affectionate cynicism, “My friends would say I’m dressing too young, and that’s one list I’ll never be found on.”

“Why would you care what anyone says?”

She paused for a split second, “
I’ll
never be accused of being mutton dressed as lamb. I’ve heard how they gossip.”

“Sheesh! With friends like that, who needs enemies?”

She nodded knowingly, “Precisely.”

I shook my head at her cynical observation, rifling through the shelves and boxes that held Evie’s astronomically large collection of shoes and boots.

“How are things coming along with Amrita?” she asked.

“I think there may be something going on between her and Dad,” I fretted, reaching up for a pair of red soled leather boots.

“Of course there is,” she said in a soft voice, “Your father is falling in love for the first time since he lost your mother.”

I froze in my tracks, and all at once I saw the truth in it. “But… but… She’s so…
bossy
.”

Evie came up behind me, placing a comforting hand on my back, “Surely you won’t begrudge him this happiness.”

I shook my head no, speechless.

“This is why it happened,” she said with conviction. “It was his destiny to meet her this way. If the accident hadn’t
occurred
, he might never have found love again.”

“Tell that to the poor guy who got blown to bits in front of him,” I said sarcastically.

“Fate can be capricious.”

“That’s for sure,” I grumbled, turning to meet her sympathetic eyes.

“Sweetheart, you don’t see it as I do. She brings such… light… into his life. She’s doing a lot more than healing his broken body.”

Something clicked, and it finally struck me. Amrita was the light lady– bringing health and happiness into my father’s life.
I couldn’t deny that in just a week he looked amazingly better, and his spirits were definitely improved. I had seen for myself the fervor in her eyes when she vowed to see him healed.

“Wow,” I gasped
.
“Rosa told me…”

“Rosa?” Evie asked.

“Nevermind,” I said, not wanting to spoil Fatima’s mystique.

“Listen darling, let’s do lunch
when I get back from Argentina
… we can talk about all of this then. Here– these will be perfect with Cruz’s dress.” She handed me a pair of red soled, over the knee boots
and
hustl
ed
me towards the door, unusually eager to get rid of me. As we passed the library I could see a small candlelit table set for two, alongside a bottle of champagne sitting invitingly in a tall silver ice bucket.

“Who
is
coming to dinner?” I asked suspiciously.

Before she could answer there was another knock on the door, and she sucked in a breath and
patted her hair
, “How do I look?” she asked, uncharacteristically
anxious.

“You have a date,” I smiled, finally figuring it out.

She flashed her ice blue eyes at me and opened the door. It was Mr. Samadi, the handsome restaurateur from Santa Cruz
, standing
in the hallway with Paul behind him
.
He was wearing a beautifully tailored suit, with a silk tie and pocket square, and stood bearing a large bouquet of red roses.

Evie nodded her consent, and Paul turned to go.

“Omar,” she gestured to me
.
“You remember my niece Marina.”

Paul spun around and looked in the door at me, his eyes wide.

Omar nodded to me, as charming as I remembered, “Of course… But surely you must be sisters.”
He took Evie’s hand and kissed it, eliciting a smile as coy as any schoolgirl’s. Flattery will get you everywhere, I thought.

“It’s nice to see you again, but I was just leaving,” I said, scurrying out the door with my dress and shoes. Paul was waiting in the hall, and he walked me to
my
door.

“You didn’t tell her… did you?” he asked, tension tightening his voice.

“Of course not!” I snapped
.
“I said I wouldn’t, didn’t I?” I was offended that he would question my word– I’d been getting a lot of that lately.

“I’ll go do it right now,” he said earnestly.

I shook my head no, “She’s busy tonight… Maybe you should talk to Boris first.”

I let myself in to find the darkening house empty. I brought the dress to my room and laid it out on the bed. Stumpy’s litter box was cleaned, his food and water filled, but he was missing. I went looking for him, led down the hall by the sound of my father’s lighthearted laughter.

I found Dad and Amrita in the therapy room, sitting side by side on the edge of the Jacuzzi tub. They faced out towards the twilight bridge with their heads together, talking to each other in low voices. Amrita giggled, and I could see Stumpy squirming on her lap. He jumped away, and my father lunged for him, wincing when he bumped his wounded arm in the process.

“Martin!” Amrita gasped, the escaped kitten momentarily forgotten. She reached out to reposition his arm, scolding him for his carelessness. He watched her fussing over him as she gently massaged each of his exposed fingers, and I could see his shoulders relax. The expression on his face was obvious, even from the doorway.

Evie had done it again, using her formidable muse powers to bring my father good fortune and happiness– even on the heels of a terrible tragedy. She was right about good things coming out of bad. I reeled back
in my shoes
, surprised that I was even surprised.

It was true. He was in love.

~

C
hapter
E
ighteen

BACKSTAGE

~

“This is the life
,
”
Cruz
patted the
plush cushions with a broad smile.

Evie made up for m
issing the concert by hiring a car and
driver for the night
, and
we
swanned
our way
through the crowded city
traffic
lounging
in an enormous limousine
. We pulled up at Megan’s hotel, waiting at the entrance for a few minutes while a crowd gathered
around the car, peering into the tinted windows expectantly
. Megan swept out of the lobby and climbed in with an excited squeal, embracing me and blowing air kisses to
Cruz and Brad
.

“I’m so glad you guys are here!”

We drove through the city, anticipatory excitement crackling in the air. The car pulled up behind an
old building with an
ornate
facade
, a former movie palace that had been refurbished into a glamorous concert venue. Megan took us into the backstage entrance, introducing us to her back-up band and leading us into her dressing room. Cruz busied himself hanging up the garment bag and straightening out the clothes.

I sat down with Megan at the makeup table, looking up to see Brad standing awkwardly by the door
.
“Come sit,” I told him, patting the chair next to mine. Cruz flashed me a grateful look.

“Will you do my makeup?” Megan asked
.
“It’ll be just like old times!”

“Sure
thing,
”
I smiled.

Cruz snooped around the dressing room, looking into the mini-bar and inspecting the fruit basket that sat on the tabletop. He looked disappointed.

“You really need to start making some better backstage demands,” he groused, gesturing all around like an orchestra conductor
.
“I mean, come on! Where are the green M & M’s? You should request a hunky masseuse or a completely white dressing room…
O
r, or, like, a case of Cristal Champagne with bendy straws!”