Chapter 12
NICHOLAS
When Nicholas found Sophie standing alone on the deck, she turned and gave him a smile that made his breath catch.
It was embarrassing how much he loved her.
He almost didn’t notice the spectacular grounds unspooling toward the cliffs and the sea.
There was an elegant pool, lined with old-world Spanish tiles, and scattered plantings of garden roses, lavender, and parsley.
“You just missed Frank,” she said.
“Did you ask him about your play?”
“A little,” she said. “But guess what? He’s going to become a Gateway Donor at the theatre!”
“That’s amazing! That’s like six figures! You actually asked him?”
“Well, he sort of dragged it out of me.”
“Even better. But don’t forget to promote my favorite young playwright, too. You need to be a little selfish.”
“What I need,” she said, “is to meditate on Frank’s wisdom. Let’s do the maze.”
She took his hand and led him past the bocce court. Happy party noise spilled from an open window as they approached the box hedges that formed a swirling labyrinth. With the walls at calf height, Nicholas could easily see over the curving lanes and dead ends.
“This is like a maze for toddlers. Hm. Does Frank have kids who are going to inherit all this?”
“Nope. My friend Angela told me that’s why he’s such a beloved … Well, she said ‘target.’ But, you know, donor. He’s got nobody to leave his wealth to except his wife, Karina.”
When Nicholas tried to step over the hedge, she stopped him, claiming it was bad luck.
So they walked around until they reached the exit on the ocean side of the maze.
There was a gazebo at the edge of the bluffs, and they paused and watched glimmers where waves caught the moonlight.
The wind played with Sophie’s new bangs, and he brushed them into place just for the excuse to touch her.
“You know who else is beloved?” he asked, before telling her about Sunny’s funeral party.
She laughed tipsily, and gave a shiver, so he held her closer.
“Thanks for coming tonight.” She snuggled against him. “Everything is easy when you’re here.”
“I wanted to come,” he told her.
She drew back a few inches. “Wait, you weren’t pushing my play in there, were you?”
“No! No.”
“Oh, thank god.”
“Not pushing.”
“Nicholas…”
He nuzzled her neck. “They happened to ask if I knew any young unproduced playwrights, and after racking my brain—”
“I’ll rack your brain,” she said, grabbing his head and shaking it in her hands.
When they finished kissing, she led him back toward the house on a flagstone path that curved past a bungalow-type building with olive trees in terra-cotta planters.
“Must be Frank’s music studio,” Sophie said, peering closer. “What a life. He says he got lucky.”
“Huh. Usually rich people ascribe one hundred percent of their success to hard work and brilliance.”
“Frank’s different. I like him.” She fell silent as they neared the main house. “He reminds me of Mrs. B a little. He’s so comfortable in his own skin.”
Nicholas heard a car door slam in the front driveway, then caught sight of the catering van being packed up, along with a few cars leaving. “Oh. People are heading home already.”
Sophie’s hand tightened in his. “C’mon, we need to say goodbye.”
They followed the path around the side of the house. Across the drive, Angela stood with one hand on her open car door while saying goodbye to Pax.
“Did you notice she’s dressed exactly like that Jane lady?” Nicholas said.
“She knows how to flatter her mentor. Who’s that with her?”
“Pecs. You’ll never guess why.”
“His name is not Pecs!”
“Well, Pax. He’s their massage therapist.”
“Huh.” Sophie peered closer. “That explains Jane’s ‘new age music’ comment.”
“Yeah.”
“We should go thank CJ,” she said, leading him around the front of the house. “And Frank, too. He gave me some great advice.”
“Not to mention that wine.” He squeezed her hand. “You did really well, Soph.”
“All I did was lurk.”
“You were you. That’s all anyone needs.”
She pulled Nicholas closer. “It’s possible I’ve fallen in love with you.”
“Huh. Weird. There’s an off chance that I love you back. Now we—”
A scream sounded from inside the house.