Chapter 5
Back in my room I was feeling out of sorts.
My workout had been cut short, so my schedule was thrown off.
I had more free time on my hands than I’d planned on.
Plus, I’d missed out on the feel-good chemicals of an intense workout.
I was pacing around my room, running through the frustrating encounter with Jack in my mind.
He was so high-handed, grabbing my phone!
What a jerk. But what a cute, ripped jerk.
Oh, my gosh, those arms. If I could have just the arms and do without the annoying personality.
I smiled a bit, thinking of a pair of Jack Garcia arm-pillows I could sleep with. Oh, yeah, I could work with that.
Glancing out the French doors at the deck I saw the glitter of the sun’s rays dancing on the pool.
Normally, with fair skin I wouldn’t dream of going out in the Arizona sun.
That would be a recipe for instant, painful sunburn.
But in October, it was much cooler. The locals were starting to bundle up, but for a New Yorker this was dream weather.
I could tolerate mid-seventies in a swimsuit.
Good thing I’d packed one, just in case.
I swiftly changed into my tankini and threw a hotel robe over it.
I took my phone, key card, water bottle, sunscreen and towel down to the pool.
Since it was the “chilly season,” I had the pool to myself.
I picked a chaise chair and laid my gear next to it, considering whether I truly wanted to swim or just soak up the sun.
I decided that just relaxing sounded perfect.
I set an alarm on my phone in case I fell asleep and closed my eyes.
The sun beating down on me felt nice, warming me up in a way that sweaters and blankets in New York don’t, a bone deep warmth, that had me melting into my chair with relaxation.
It was quiet and peaceful with no children squabbling in the pool or other people talking.
I figured that when I was thoroughly warm, I’d go into the pool to cool down, swim for a bit, and then go back to my room to change for dinner.
Then I heard the distinctive scraping sound of someone dragging a deck chair.
Towards me. Oh, no. Please let it not be…
peeking underneath my lashes I saw what I dreaded.
Of course it was Jack. Perhaps if I pretended to be asleep, he’d leave me alone. I was hopeful. But wrong.
“Eve, you’re going to burn into a French fry if you don’t put on some sunscreen,” he chuckled.
I slowly opened my eyes, taking in his outfit.
I’d been preparing to launch an attack at him for bothering me during my quiet time, but when I saw his swim trunks i couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
Rather than snug speedos, he’d opted for voluminous swim trunks that had hot pink T-rexes trampling San Francisco, while shooting planes out of the sky with laser vision.
I laughed until I had tears running down my face. “Jack, what are you wearing?”
“Aren’t they incredible? I just bought them in the pro shop. I saw them and knew I had to have them, and since I have them, I have to try them out, right? So, I come out here for a quick swim only to find you’d snuck in ahead of me. You are something of a ninja, aren't you, Eve?”
I wiped the tears off my cheeks and shook my head, still chuckling. “Yes, Jack, I’d anticipated your purchase of the most ridiculous swim trunks on the planet, and ninja’d my way to the pool so I could grab the primo spot.”
He smirked and said, “I knew it. Thanks for admitting it.” And then he lowered himself onto the chair he’d positioned next to mine, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. He was ridiculous, but at least he didn’t seem to have come here just to antagonize me.
I closed my eyes and leaned back also, mimicking his position.
Our peaceful camaraderie lasted about thirty seconds before he said in his smooth voice, “I wasn’t joking about the sunscreen, Eve.
I’m a native here so it doesn’t bug me, but you’ll be in a world of hurt if you don’t give yourself some protection.
Your pale skin doesn’t look like it does well with desert sun. I’d be happy to help you rub some on.”
I could hear the smile in his voice. Rolling toward him and opening my eyes, I saw that sure enough he was grinning. “Would you like me to get you some from the pro shop? I’m pretty sure they stock industrial-sized vats of the stuff.”
“No thank you, Jack. I brought my own and I’m quite capable of putting it on myself.” Although the idea of Jack rubbing me all over with lotion was quite enticing. But I definitely didn’t need the consequences of that.
“Well, I think your pale French ancestors will come and haunt me tonight if I let you get crisped,” he said with a grin. “Hand over the sunscreen.”
“It’s not the French ancestors you have to worry about. It’s the Norwegians. They can carry quite a grudge. And battle axes.” I poured a glob of lotion into my palm and smoothed it over my chest. Jack watched me closely, as if he was my quality control monitor.
“So, you’re half French and half Norwegian? What—did your parents meet up in Denmark and have a fling?”
“Ha, not quite. My father was French, born and raised in Paris. He went on a foreign exchange program for school to Minnesota and met my mother, third generation Norwegian immigrant, and they fell in love. After he graduated, he came back, proposed, and stayed. And that’s where I was born.”
“So how did you come to be raised in Paris?” he asked, with a raised eyebrow.
“Ah, very good. You paid attention. But that’s a story for another time. Tell me about your story. How did you go from Scottsdale to the international stage?” I asked, adroitly shifting the conversation toward him.
“Well, you saw the pictures last night, so you have a good idea of how I grew up.”
I nodded and asked, “Do you have siblings?” shifting in my chair while I put sunscreen on my legs.
“Just one. An older sister, Carmen. She’s 3 years older than me, so we didn’t hang out with the same crowd.
She got married to a good guy and they live in Tucson.
They have two daughters, one of whom, as you know, is a huge Bluey fan.
” He smiled at the thought of his nieces.
“They are really great kids. I try to go see them at least a couple of times a year. I love sending them presents and stuff, but I wish I could be there to watch them grow up. They just sprout like crazy when I’m not around. ”
“You’re lucky to have them in your life,” I said with a smile. “It sounds like you adore them.”
“I do,” he replied quickly. “What about you? Any nieces? Nephews? Kids of your own?”
I snorted a laugh, coming very closing to inhaling the sunscreen I was spreading on my nose. “Uh, no. I’m an only child, so no nieces or nephews. And definitely no kids! I’m single, so that wouldn’t work out well.”
“So, no Mr. Lambert in the rear-view mirror?”
“No. I’ve never been married.” I needed to shut down that line of questioning quickly. “So where did you go to school? You said you got a scholarship.”
“Very nice, Eve. You paid attention, too.”
My cheeks warmed a bit, and it had nothing to do with the sun.
Yes, I’d done nothing but pay attention to him since I’d sat down next to him on the plane.
Everything about him, his soft curls, his large, dark eyes, his smooth voice, and his arms (ok, I was a bit fixated on those arms), all conspired to capture and hold my attention.
He splayed his hands wide and said, as though admitting something embarrassing, “I got a scholarship to Julliard.”
“What? Julliard? Holy cow, Jack, that’s amazing! How did that happen?”
“Well, as long I can remember, I’ve always loved music and wanted to play the piano.
Mrs. Lopez, you met her at the memorial, she lived down the block from us and let me come play her piano as long as I followed the rules.
1- Clean hands, and 2- No banging. She’d let me plunk away, then she’d play for me.
I loved how she could turn dots and lines on paper into beautiful tunes, and so I asked her to show me how to do that.
She taught me to read music and how to play.
I’d practice wherever I could get my hands on a piano.
One year, for my birthday, my whole family pitched in to buy me an electric keyboard. I was the happiest little kid.”
I smiled at his enthusiasm. “You must have been an adorable kid. I wish I could have seen it.”
“I don’t know about adorable, but I sure got away with some stuff.
But I always put music first.” He paused and looked down at his hands.
“When my dad died…he got hit by a drunk driver when I was a sophomore…things got pretty tough. But Mrs. Lopez kept teaching me and my mom was always encouraging me. It was Mrs. Lopez’s idea to apply to Julliard.
She did demo tapes of me playing and helped me fill in the forms. I was shocked when they accepted me and offered me a scholarship. ”
“Yet,” I said gently, “you were willing to throw it away for Valentina.”
“Nick was the jock, the sports star, and I was kind of a music geek. All the girls loved him and barely even looked at me. That’s why I was so blown away by Valentina. There was this gorgeous girl, and she picked me. Or at least, I thought she did. I didn’t know she was keeping her options open.”
I nodded, knowing the end of that sordid tale. “So does Julliard teach how to be a pop star?”
He laughed and shook his head. “I was training to be a classical pianist. I spent tons of time on technique, music theory, and other technical aspects of being a pianist. I thought being a concert pianist was what I wanted to do with my life.
But at school I started hanging out with some friends who played other instruments.
One of them was my drummer, he was my roommate, and one was my guitar player.
We started playing just for fun and I loved it.
“I’d always loved music, but I’d never had the idea that it could be…
just fun. That was a revelation for me. So, by the end of my sophomore year, I figured I’d gotten what I needed from school and set out to have some fun making music.
That was the nucleus of PRTY. Just music students messing around, having fun. ”
I opened my mouth to ask another question, but my phone alarm chimed.
“Oh, that was to keep me on track for dinner tonight. I’m going to take a quick dip, then go get ready.”
“Are you a good swimmer?” he asked with a sly grin.
“I’m a fair swimmer. Why?”
“I’ll race you up and back in the pool. Winner gets to…” He paused, tapping his lips with his finger. “Winner gets a favor from the loser.”
“Jack, that is way too open-ended!” I protested, fairly sure I knew who the winner would be. And I didn’t want any of Jack’s ridiculous shenanigans to interfere with my business deal. “How about the winner can’t collect till after this week?”
He considered, the corner of his lip curling up. “Deal. Now get into the pool so I can humiliate you and get my favor.”
“You’re awfully cocky for a piano player. How do you know I wasn’t captain of the swim team? A runner up for the Olympic team?” I replied with a smirk of my own, as I walked to the edge of the pool.
“Well, for one thing, you don’t have the build for it.” His eyes slid over my body and made me shiver a bit under his gaze. “And for another, your hair doesn’t look like it spends much time in chlorine. You have gorgeous hair, and if you were a swimmer, it would be green.”
He thought my hair was gorgeous? A flush that had nothing to do with sunburn suffused my cheeks. We both got into the water, the chill of it taking my breath away. We hung onto the wall, leaning into the pool as Jack counted down.
Had I given him the favor on purpose? Stipulating that he could collect later meant that there would be more contact between us. That wasn’t smart.
I was totally not surprised that he won handily.
He was already out of the pool by the time I made it back.
He reached down to help me out and pulled me flush up against him.
My breathing was rapid and shallow as I steadied myself with my hands on his chest. (Must resist urge to stroke his chest and arms!) I looked up and his eyes were very dark, looking steadily into mine.
I took a deep breath, swallowed, and pushed away from him. I hastily grabbed my gear and headed back to the hotel, calling over my shoulder, “6:30 sharp!”
“Yes, ma’am!” he answered, laughing.