Wandering Soul (18 page)

“Come on! We have a lot to do today.” Squeezing his hand, she led him from the room. He followed her quite gladly.

They left the gallery and crossed the street on foot rather than taking Rachel's car. Apparently, their destination was not far. Trees lined the streets, thick leaves casting shadows over the sidewalks.

She paused in front of a whitewashed building with large glass windows set on each story above them. “This is it. Do you have an apartment here?”

He held up the key, sunlight gleaming along its serrated edge. “We shall see.”

He opened the door to the building and stood aside so she could enter first, then stepped into what was presumably his new home.

The floor was covered in gray slate tile, just rough enough to give traction. The white walls of the foyer rose three stories above them. Opposite the building's entrance, a staircase climbed the wall, pausing at landings that led deeper into the building. Windows set in the top two floors allowed natural light to pour in from three directions.

Beneath the staircase, stones had been cleverly set together to form a waterfall that ended in a small pool where fish swam among water lilies and other plants. A frog leapt from the side of the pond into the water as Dante watched.

“Mr. Lucerne?”

He turned at the sound of his name. A man approached them, wearing a tailored suit with the name of the building tastefully embroidered on his lapel. Apparently, Jazz hadn't chosen to change Dante's name after all.

“I am Dante Lucerne.”

“Ms. Zhou told me that you might be stopping by today.” The man extended his hand, and Dante shook it. “I'm Charles Brenner. I run the front desk during the day.”

He pointed over his shoulder at a semi-circular desk with a top that perfectly matched the floor. The man continued to shake Dante's hand for a few moments before releasing it. Though his gaze strayed to Dante's mask a few times, he did not make any mention to it or seem uncomfortable.

“I wanted to introduce myself so you know where to come if you have any questions or problems.” He handed Dante a large envelope. “Here's a welcome packet for the building. Laundry room, gym and elevator locations are marked on a map inside. Again, please don't hesitate to contact me with any questions. My number is inside.”

“Thank you,” Dante said.

He was already feeling a bit overwhelmed, so he refrained from opening the envelope immediately. It was just as well, because Rachel grabbed his elbow and started pulling him toward the staircase.

“Come on, Dante! Let's check it out!”

“It was a pleasure meeting you,” Dante called over his shoulder.

She practically ran up the stairs. He had to walk briskly to keep up with her. When they reached a door marked as 3B, she smiled and placed the key Jazz had given him in the lock.

Rachel paused, then released her hold on the key. She shifted out of the way. “You should do it. It's your place, after all.”

“Indeed.”

He took a deep breath, then turned the key. The lock clicked, and he exhaled strongly. Part of him had wondered if it would work. Apparently, this truly was his new home. He would need even more help from Rachel than he had anticipated.

Dante opened the door and stepped inside.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Elsa was miserable. She tried to write, but her thoughts kept circling back to where Dante might be and what he was doing. She tried reading, but that was just as useless. She couldn't even focus on watching TV. She wandered through her house and ended up in the studio.

A large canvas was sitting next to Dante's easel, covered by a tarp. She was curious, but respected that he wanted to wait until it was done to show it to her.

She opened the doors to the patio, imagining him standing in the sun with a fresh canvas, ready to capture another familiar view that she hadn't truly appreciated until seeing it through his eyes.

Now, he was out seeing the world with Rachel. He had left Elsa behind, and she was the one who told him to.

“You miss him.”

She nearly jumped at Winston's voice. He was hovering in the hallway just outside the door. The studio and Elsa's bedroom were the two places in the house he wouldn't enter, never knowing what projects were underway and potentially underfoot.

“How…”

Winston laughed. “I can hear you moping all the way in the kitchen. And it's about bloody time.”

“For what?”

“You know what,” Winston said. “I'm blind and I can see it clear as day. You two are together, aren't you?”

“I…don't know.”

“You listen to me. Dante's not the type to take liberties. If he started something with you, he's serious. You don't need to worry about that.”

“That's not what I'm worried about.”

“Then what's the problem?”

That was the question. And the only answer she could come up with was, “Me.”

Winston made a
pfft
noise and waved his hand at her. “I never met anyone wound as tight as you. You work so hard to control everything and everyone, most of all yourself. But life can't be controlled. Not really. You can grab hold of it as tight as you can till you suffocate, or let go and enjoy the ride.”

Maybe he was right. Maybe that was what had gone wrong with Elsa's parents. All their fighting was their way of trying to control each other.

“I'm not that great at letting go.”

“Oh, my love. You can do anything you set your mind to.” Winston smiled. “Just have a little faith.”

Some of the fear gripping her heart eased as warmth suffused her. Winston was one of the dearest people in her life. He and Jazz were the closest thing Elsa had to family.

“I'll try.”

“Good. Now go outside and quit your moping. Get some sun and relax!” Winston shuffled off down the hallway, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Going outside wasn't a bad idea. Only a few bright clouds broke up the darkening blue of the sky. She stepped onto the patio, enjoying the fresh air and the breeze. She settled in the lounge chair under the shade of the table's umbrella and watched the flowers in the garden sway with the wind.

What seemed a moment later, she jolted awake. The sun was beginning to set, shadows stretching across the stone of the patio. She wasn't sure what had woken her, but her skin was crawling. Someone pressed down on the back of her lounge chair.

Elsa leapt up from her seat, then spun around to find Michael staring at her.

In a soft voice he said, “You look so peaceful when you sleep.”

“What are you doing here?” Her heart was thundering in her chest.

“I keep telling you, Elsa, I want us to be friends.” He circled the lounge chair. “We have a chance to get to know each other better with Rachel off carousing with Dante.” He sneered as he said Dante's name.

His voice, his mannerisms, and those cold blue eyes… Elsa wondered that she hadn't recognized him earlier. A rush of anger flooded through her.

“You were the one in the cat mask last night, weren't you?”

“See? We're understanding each other better already.” He slinked toward the flowers, but didn't take his eyes off of her. “Not even Rachel recognized me.”

“Why go to all that trouble?”

“Rachel is so clingy. I wanted a night off.” Michael turned back to Elsa and took a few steps toward her. His lips curled up from his teeth for a brief moment. “Is that too much to ask for?”

Elsa eased back to keep the distance between them. With each zigzagging path Michael cut across the patio, he was getting closer.

“You could have just talked to her.”

His face resumed its semblance of calm. With a smug laugh, he said, “You underestimate my effect on Rachel. She's so weak. Not like you, Elsa. You're strong.”

“Saying bad things about my friends is not the way to get on my good side.”

“See? So protective. When I trashed you, Rachel ate it up.” He narrowed his eyes as he spoke, grinning.

“I want you to leave. Now.”

“You should be nicer to me. We're bound to become close, with how serious things are with Rachel and me. Speaking of…”

Elsa didn't want to take her eyes off of Michael, but she heard footsteps behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see Rachel and Dante walking down the path that stretched around the side of the house.

“Michael? What are you doing here?” Rachel looked from Elsa to Michael and back again.

“Waiting for you, of course.” Michael crossed the patio to meet Rachel. Without a prelude, he wrapped his arms around her and started kissing her passionately.

Elsa actually took a step toward them, wanting to pull them apart, to get Michael away from her friend. Dante must have noticed, because he came to her side and placed his hand on her shoulder.

He leaned close and whispered, “Are you all right?”

Elsa shook her head briefly, then tucked herself under Dante's arm.

Michael finally ended his kiss, then turned to face them. His arm was around the back of Rachel's neck, holding her close. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I would pay Elsa a visit since we didn't get to talk much last night at the party.”

“You were at the party?” Rachel asked, her brow furrowing. Michael ignored her.

Dante stiffened next to Elsa. “Your costume was quite an effective disguise.”

“At least I can take mine off.” Michael laughed, then looked down at Rachel. “Guess you won that bet, didn't you?”

Rachel glanced at Dante, her face pained. “Dante, I—”

Michael talked over Rachel. “You don't need to explain anything.” His features softened when he turned to her, as did his voice. “What happened was an accident. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

Rachel was still staring at Dante, as if she wanted to apologize, but Michael placed his hand on her cheek, turning her to face him. His other arm was still around Rachel's neck. It looked more like a choke-hold to Elsa than an affectionate gesture.

He ran his hand over Rachel's hair, then twined a lock around his finger and tugged on it. “Except that you left me alone for the entire day.”

“I'm sorry,” Rachel said.

Elsa's stomach churned. How many times had her mother apologized just like that to Elsa's father, or one of the many boyfriends that moved in after Elsa's father left?

At least Elsa didn't see any bruises or cuts on Rachel. Or Michael, for that matter. Yet.

“I was lonely,” Michael said. “I thought Elsa might be lonely too, so I stopped by to see how she was doing.”

“That's so thoughtful.” Rachel was eating up his story. Elsa knew better.

“That reminds me.” Michael turned back to Elsa and Dante. “How's that butler of yours? I hear he took a tumble.”

“Winston is quite well. Thank you for asking,” Dante said.

For the briefest instant, a look of disgust flashed across Michael's features. Elsa couldn't believe that this was Rachel's boyfriend. She had to do something.

“Why don't we go inside and have some coffee?” Maybe Elsa could talk some sense into Rachel if they could get a moment alone.

“That's a lovely idea,” Michael said. “Unfortunately, we'll have to take a rain check. I haven't been able to look at Rachel all day, and now that I have her to myself again, I don't really feel like sharing.”

Rachel smiled, then actually sighed as Michael ran his fingers along her cheekbone. Her expression was rapt.

“I get it.” Elsa had to figure out a way to separate them. She opted for the direct approach. “Only there's something that I wanted to talk to Rachel about. Girl-talk stuff.”

Michael looked at Elsa keenly, but he smiled and nodded. “I suppose I could let Rachel go for another few minutes. For you. Since we're on our way to becoming such good friends.”

Elsa had always wondered how her parents managed to fall in love and get married. Watching Rachel and Michael was almost like traveling back in time. History was repeating itself. Elsa had to try to help Rachel avoid that fate.

They headed into the studio, leaving the men outside. Elsa didn't like the idea of Dante being alone with Michael, but she kept them both in sight through the window.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” Rachel still had a dreamy look in her eyes and kept gazing out toward the patio.

“How long have you been dating this guy?”

“It's been a couple of months now. Can you believe it? That's like forever. I've never had a relationship last this long. He says I'm his muse.”

“How well do you know him, though?”

“Well enough to know I love him.”

“Rachel, come on. What do you really know about him?”

Rachel let out a huff of breath. “Not all of us like everything laid out in a neat little line. I don't ever want to be with someone who doesn't have mystery. I'm not like you. I'm not ready to settle down.”

“Who said I was—”

“I'm not just some dumb blonde. I notice things.”

“I have never said that you're a dumb blonde.” Elsa was disturbed Rachel would even think that. Rachel could be absentminded, but she was a brilliant designer and had offered Elsa insight any number of times.

“But you've thought it.”

“Rachel, I never thought such a thing. I'm just worried about you. Michael is scaring me.”

“I'm not the one dating a guy who's pretending to be the villain from a bunch of horror stories.”

“What?” Elsa gasped.

“This is exactly why Michael didn't want you to know about him. About us. He was right.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You always do this with my boyfriends. You say they're too reckless and unsettled, or too old and experienced. And with Michael, you think I don't know enough about him?” Rachel shook her head. “This is my life. Stop trying to control it.”

“I'm not trying to control your life.”

“Of course you are. It's what you do. Normally, I don't care. It's cute, even. But not this time. This is off-limits.”

“Rachel, please, I'm worried about you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know that, but I just think—”

Rachel cut Elsa off before she could finish her statement. Elsa had never seen Rachel so angry.

“You want to know what I think, Elsa? I think you keep yourself busy meddling in other people's lives to avoid living your own.”

“I'm just looking out for you.”

“Who asked you to?” Rachel snapped.

“Rachel, please.”

Before Elsa could say more, Rachel turned around and stalked out the door. Elsa followed, but couldn't speak freely with Michael present. She didn't want to set him off and have Rachel pay the price later.

As Rachel passed Dante, she said, “I had a lot of fun today, Dante. Call me if you need another break.”

Is that what Dante's day out had been? Was Elsa driving away the people she cared about by trying to protect them?

“Rachel—” Dante began, but Rachel was well down the path to the front of the house. Michael followed.

Before he strolled out of sight, he turned and waved. “It was lovely to see you, Elsa. We'll pick this up again very soon.”

Elsa's mind churned, but she couldn't think of anything she could do to help. She hadn't felt so helpless since she was a child, watching her parents' marriage self-destruct, their violence escalating. Were all relationships doomed?

There was nothing she could do about Rachel and Michael, but Elsa could do something about her relationship with Dante. She would make sure that they didn't fight. She would stop trying to control him. If she did, maybe they stood a chance.

Dante put his hands on Elsa's shoulders. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” She forced herself to smile, her heart constricting with every breath. “Everything is fine.”