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She imagined Lukas did considerably more than he said. He’d never been a hands-off sort of guy. “What’s it like?” she asked.
So Lukas described the gallery space on the first floor, the studios where some of the artists would be “in residence,” working while people watched. He told her about the office space and the seven apartments.
“Some are even done,” he added with a faint grin. “Mine is. And the one for my gallery manager, Jenn, who’s coming on Monday. And two on the third floor. None of them would be finished if I were doing it myself. You should come see it,” he suggested.
“Maybe.” But Holly knew she wouldn’t. Today was a one-off. Get the deed signed. Move on. “I’m getting ready to leave. I have to pack and still make the condo look presentable for potential buyers. I should have started a few weeks ago,” she admitted. “But I couldn’t get my mind on it until now that school’s almost over.”
“Haven’t they tried to talk you into staying at St. Brendan’s?” Lukas asked. “I figured they’d fight like hell to keep a good teacher.”
“They asked. But it’s time to move on. You should understand.”
Lukas raised a brow. “Me?”
“It’s what you did,” she reminded him. “When you left.”
Lukas let go of her fingers and put his hand on the steeling wheel, all the while keeping his eyes on the road. “That was different.”
“Different how?”
He didn’t answer, just rolled his shoulders in silence. She thought he wasn’t going to answer. But finally he said, “It just was.”
“So you’re not going to talk about it?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I’m not.”
“But—”
“You’ve only got to think about it, Holly,” he said gruffly.
She frowned. So, okay, he’d betrayed Matt. He’d said that already. And there wasn’t anything to stay around for. He’d said that, too. But he’d left his degree half-done. He hadn’t come back. She turned her head so she could look at him, try to see what had been turning the wheels in his head. But as always, what went on inside Lukas Antonides’s thick skull was beyond her.
So she turned away and stared out the window. They were nearing the turnoff for the boatyard. The late-afternoon sun had dropped in the sky behind them. It beat on the back of her neck through the truck’s window, but it was no longer as hot as it had been earlier. The boatyard was deserted when they arrived.
“I’ll open the gate,” she said. “The boat is around back of the boathouse. You can park there.” She nodded toward a place near the office where she and Matt had parked when they had come here. “I’ll show you where it is.”
She didn’t wait for him, though. It was the memories of Matt, she told herself, that were making her weepy. They had come out here only a couple of weeks before his death. Matt had been so eager to see the boat again, yet had walked slowly, holding back, almost as if he were afraid that it would be beyond repair. She knew he hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up. Of course he had talked about Lukas that day, too. Lukas and I were going to do this, and Luke thought we should do that.
Of course Lukas had never been around to do any of it. But as always, any mention of Lukas had brought back Holly’s feelings of guilt.
And now...coming here with Lukas felt like a very bad idea indeed. Behind her she heard Lukas shut the truck’s door. Then his footsteps came across the gravel after her.
“Wait up!” he called. “Going to a fire?” he began with a grin when he reached her. But when he saw her face, his grin faded. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything’s fine. Come on.” She started walking again. But Lukas caught her wrist and hauled her to a stop.
“You’re crying.” He sounded appalled, looking at her worriedly, out of his depth.
“It’s okay. I was just...remembering...the day Matt and I came here.” She swallowed. “He was so happy. He had so many plans. I...don’t usually get weepy anymore. Sorry.” She wiped a hand down her face.
“You don’t have to apologize.” Lukas’s voice was gruff. “I didn’t mean to bring it all back. Do you want to wait in the truck?”
“No. I said I’m fine.”
He didn’t look convinced. “It won’t take me long. I just...wanted to see it again.” He took a breath. His gaze was dark and serious, as if he were intending to lay some ghosts to rest, too. “Come on, then. Let’s get it done.”
