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Some futile part of me had hoped he’d be waiting for me when I left the dining room. I even went down to the kitchen where Maldonado was sitting with a cup of coffee. “Have you seen Ian?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“He’s gone to his apartment,” Maldonado said repressively. “He said to make sure no one bothered him tonight.”
That was the second warning, and I wasn’t about to ignore it. He’d effectively rejected me after the best night of my life. So be it. I could pull up my big-girl panties and get on with it. One thing was certain—I was not going to cry. Not over him, not over any damned man.
Oddly enough, I slept heavily that long night. Well, maybe not so odd considering how little sleep I’d had the night before. I only woke up once, when Marcus and Bella returned, laughing, tipsy, and I wondered if Marcus had subconsciously recognized his real love. I pulled my pillow over my head and went back to sleep.
***I’ve always hated funerals. The ritual, the formality of them, the oh-so-polite mourners in their dark clothes and crumpled tissues. Death wasn’t polite, it wasn’t formal, it was a screaming pain that ripped into you, and the last thing I wanted to do was stand around and chat with Granda’s old friends, particularly in my Bella disguise.
But I wasn’t going to cry over Granda either. That would come later, when I was back home, wherever that was. I would grieve him then, as I grieved Ian, and I would have no witnesses.
I rode with Valerie and Mary Alice down the hill in one of the big black town cars, and I assumed Bella went with the brothers. I breathed a sigh of relief. The last person I wanted to be closeted with was Ian. This was going to be hard enough—my best chance of making it through the day in one piece was to shut him completely out of my mind and heart.
I could still feel him, the imprint of his body on mine, the smell of his skin, the aching emptiness inside me. I longed for him, desperately. But he wouldn’t even meet my gaze.
And I didn’t want to be anywhere near Bella if I could help it. I had not the slightest idea what was going on in her brain, but I knew she wasn’t about to tell me until she was good and ready. At this point, I didn’t give a royal goddamn what she had planned, because I would be long gone.
I was past ready for this masquerade to end, no matter how explosive that ending might be. I was everything Ian had called me, a liar and a cheat, and I had no excuses. That I was turning over the estate and all the money to the others was the only mitigating factor. Maybe he wouldn’t still hate me.
The procession down to the small country church was endless, with the farm workers in their Sunday best following the family to the parking lot that was studded with Bentleys and Rolls and the occasional Ferrari. All of Granda’s friends had made the trek to the village church, and it was going to be jammed. Maybe jammed enough that I could slip out when no one was looking, without ever having to see Ian again. I hadn’t bothered to pack, and I’d left most of the money that Bella had given me, taking only enough to see me safely back in New Hampshire. I would figure things out from there.
I looked up toward the front of the church, the candles glowing in the warm morning light, the casket in a place of honor, and I wanted to run. I’d already said goodbye to Granda—I didn’t need this artificial fuss to make my peace with his death.
It was past time to make my goodbyes to Ian, not that he’d ever realize it. I had absolutely no idea what he really felt about me, only that he wanted me in his bed. Or he had. Now, once again, I seemed to be persona non grata, and I couldn’t really blame him. The one thing I could do for him was leave, and this time, he wouldn’t try to stop me. It was my own fault that it hurt so damn much. I’d fallen in love with him, whether it made any sense or not. In fact, I think I’d been a little in love with him when I was young and he’d rescued me from that cave, but I’d been too dazzled by Marcus’s megawatt smile.
I couldn’t avoid our formal trip to the front row with the rest of the family, but I did manage to get put at the very end of the row. Ian and Marcus were at the other end, Mary Alice and Valerie in the middle, and right next to me was Bella, in her Podge persona, her muddy hazel eyes blinking behind the heavy glasses.
I’d like to think I managed quite well, even when Ian looked down the row of family with a stony expression that was close to hatred before staring straight ahead and pretending once more that I didn’t exist. It went on forever—by the time we got to the final hymn, I was past ready to bolt. I started to move, and Bella’s hand clamped down over my wrist painfully.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she whispered harshly.
“I need some fresh air,” I said as everyone sang around us.
“Suck it up,” she hissed.
I had had enough. Of her, of Ian, of everything. I twisted my wrist painfully, breaking her hold, and slid out of the pew, moving swiftly down the aisle to the back of the crowded church. The only shoes that matched the somber navy blue dress were high heels, not made for moving quickly, and underneath the voices I heard the sharp tap tap of my heels on the old stone floors.
The sun was shining brightly overhead when I finally stumbled out of the darkened interior of the old Protestant church, and I held up my hand to shade my eyes, looking for one of the town cars. I was getting out of here, not wandering around making polite conversation while I was playing a role. The funeral and reception could continue without me. I was going home.
No, not to Mariposa, though it felt like home to me and always had. I was going to have the town car take me to the airport and I was getting the hell out of Dodge. If Ian had anything to say to me, then he would have to find me. Otherwise, I’d simply sign the papers and have done with it, with Mariposa, with all of them. With Ian.
The driver was leaning on the town car, smoking a cigarette which he quickly extinguished as I approached him. “I need you to take me to the airport,” I said in Spanish. “Now.”
For a moment, he looked confused. “I was hired to take the family from the villa to the church and back again.”
People were just beginning to exit the church and I needed to escape before I was drawn into any polite conversations. “I need to go to the airport, not the villa. Will you take me?”
“Senñorita, I’m not supposed to...”
“Pay no attention to her.” Bella came up beside me, grabbing my arm once more. She must have been close on my heels. “She’ll go back to the house with me.”
I tried to yank free. “I don’t want to go back...” I began, but she twisted my arm painfully.
“Don’t be a baby,” she shot back. “We’ll return to Mariposa and get your things and then I will drive you to the airport in my car.”
“And how are you going to explain your ability to drive the Alfa?” I demanded.
She shrugged in the ill-fitting black polyester dress. “I’ll tell them the truth. It’s about time, don’t you think?”
