Once More From the Top (The Women of Willow Bay) Page 5

  Will seemed pensive. “Are you sure you’re ready to let Marty go? He’s been managing your career for twenty years.” Will shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the turn of events that could suddenly change his own career. “Don’t get me wrong, I want the job. Hell, I’m practically doing it now. But are you sure this is what you want?”

  Liam didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely. This isn’t a whim, it’s been coming for a long time. Hell, Marty disengaged when he left Chicago for LA five years ago. We never see him. Besides, you’ve seen the schedules he’s put together the last few years. He seems to think I’m running out of time—like he’s afraid he can’t sell me since the cancer and so he’s trying to milk the last of my appeal. Sometimes I think he never really believed that my talent took us this far.”

  “Well, I know it’s your talent. But he did create the image, Maestro, and it’s been a helluva profitable ride—for everyone.”

  “True,” Liam agreed. “But I’m done being manipulated. I’m sick of being Marty’s… puppet. His stupid toy.”

  Will nodded as Liam went on. “I let him create this illusion around me and went along with it because all I wanted to do was conduct. And frankly, after Carrie, I didn’t care who was on my arm—or in my bed for that matter—at first.”

  Embarrassment heated his cheeks as he recalled the early years before he’d become friends with Will. Long tours, a different city each week, hotel rooms, dressing rooms, women—women whose names he didn’t remember, whose faces were a blur. Even if they weren’t in his bed, they were on his arm.

  Until the cancer. After his treatments were over, he’d opted out of the glittering parties and glitzy events, and the battles with his agent grew more frequent, more intense.

  He blew out a frustrated breath. “I just can’t be the guy Marty created anymore. I haven’t been able to be him for a long, long time. You know that. How many arguments have you refereed between us?”

  “Quite a few, but he’s never going to let go of his own agenda. Not at this late date, my friend.”

  Liam stroked his beard as he drove. “You’re right. He was pissed as hell when I told him I wasn’t going to tour this summer and that I accepted this gig for Lawson.”

  “I was there for the fireworks, remember?”

  The sun hovered low in the sky as Liam drove into town. “If I’d paid attention to Carrie and not gotten caught up in Marty’s agenda, maybe I could have been in my son’s life. I don’t know that for sure, but I do know I’m sick of fighting with Marty. You know as well as I do that this news will send him right into orbit.”

  “Yeah, it will.” Will smiled. “Okay, so now what, Maestro?”

  “I haven’t got a clue,” Liam groaned as he turned down Waterfront Street. “That woman can still drive me out of my mind with one look, despite making me so mad I could cheerfully shake her stupid. She’s locked up so tight I may never get to her, but I’ve got to try. I’m not losing her again. At least not without finding out what might be possible.”

  He scanned the street, peering at the storefronts. “And if nothing’s possible between us, there’s still Jack—my son thinks I don’t know he exists. I gotta fix that, even if his mother and I never figure out how to communicate. And while I’m doing all that, I have to decide what I want to do with the rest of my damn career.” With a weary sigh, Liam pulled up in front of Carrie’s studio. “What do you say, Will? How about we figure that part out together?”

  “I’m in.” Will hopped out of the car. “I’ve had some great ideas, but Marty never seems very open to talking.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like a movie score.” Excitement colored his tone. “Marty’s kept you on the podium, but hey, who knows? I can start looking around. Make some calls.”

  “A movie score? Damn, that’d be great!”

  “You’ve been composing practically your whole career. You’ve got tons of music. Why not see if it can work somewhere?”

  Will’s enthusiasm was contagious, and Liam couldn’t help grinning. His career had been stalled on the podium for years because Marty Justice had been afraid to let him spread his musical wings. Conducting was wonderful, but he was more than ready to try new outlets for his talent.

  “Didn’t you tell me Marty turned down invitations to do conservatory workshops and summer seminars after your diagnosis? Well, you’re past your five years clean, so I think you should go for that, too. You’re a terrific instructor.” Will stopped to take a breath. “What do you think?”

  “I think I could get excited about my job again.” Liam clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Say you’ll represent me. I’ll handle Marty.”

  SIX

  Carrie slumped at her desk, clicking mindlessly through the proofs of Mariette Hollister’s twins. The morning played in an endless loop in her head. First, Liam at the coffee shop and then later on the beach. Damn the man for still having the power to make her feel helpless, foolish, and utterly irrational. But, oh God, it was so good to be in his arms. His hands still set her on fire. His mouth was still magic, his kiss still a heart-stopper.

  That was the upside.

  The downside? Her organized, tidy, everything-in-its-place life was in chaos. Last week, her precious son spending the summer away at camp was her biggest issue. Today, it was figuring out how to tell that cherished kid who his father was.

  Oh, and by the way, he’s on a yacht fifty feet from our door.

  The bell above the front door jingled as Liam walked in with a tall blond guy in tow. “Hey.” There was that slow, sexy smile Carrie still fantasized about. “Carrie, this is my friend, Will Brody. I told him about you and Jack. We thought we’d stop by on our way back from Interlochen so he could meet you.” The message was loud and clear—Will Brody was someone he trusted with the intimate details of his life.

  “Hi there, Carrie.” Will’s blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he took her fingers in a warm grip. Definitely the all-American surfer type—tanned, muscular, and handsome with streaky blond hair, carefully mussed. “I’m very glad to meet you.”

  “Hello, Will.” Carrie returned the smile. “Did you drive up with Liam?”

  “Actually no, I came up on the boat.”

  He and Carrie discussed the cruise from Chicago to Willow Bay while Liam walked around the studio, studying the photographs on the wall. He stopped before an eight-by-ten of Jack taken by the lighthouse at sunset and framed in ebony—an extraordinary photo Carrie was particularly proud of. The setting sun gleamed red and gold on Jack’s hair, creating a shimmering halo effect that Eliot had always referred to as the “angel shot.” Liam bent to examine it more closely, his eyes narrowed.

  “He was about ten in that photo,” Carrie offered. “It’s one of my favorites. The sun was exactly right and I happened to have my camera. Poor Jack, I shoot him relentlessly—along with the lighthouse. I’m in heaven when I can get them both in the same frame.” She hoped her breezy explanation would lighten the heavy atmosphere created by Liam’s thundercloud expression.

  “Mind if I take a look?” Will asked. Carrie nodded and Liam stepped aside. “Good Lord, he really is all Reilly, isn’t he?”

  “That he is,” Liam replied quietly, meeting Carrie’s eyes in the deepening shadows of the studio. She felt the look all the way to her toes—a mix of apprehension and sensuality.

  Will ambled around the studio. “Do you use a digital camera?”

  Carrie tore her eyes away from Liam’s. “No... um... I mean, yes, I do use one when I’m just out taking pictures or for newspaper shots or–or when I’m not in the studio.” Her answers stumbled under the intensity of Liam’s piercing gaze. Was it anger at seeing the photo or something else? “I prefer traditional film for portraits. I use both for weddings. It depends—” The back door opened and Julie’s voice interrupted her.

  “Hey, kiddo!” Julie called out from the back room of the studio. “You aren’t going to believe who I saw coming out of The Grind this mor
ning.”

  “Oh, I bet I would.” Carrie glanced at Liam and Will who exchanged curious smiles. Apparently her friend hadn’t bothered to shut the door while using the washroom.

  Carrie went to the curtained doorway and stuck her head in. “Hey, Jules—” she began, but the older woman rushed on as she flushed and turned on the water to wash her hands.

  “That hunky symphony conductor from Chicago,” Julie announced, tearing off a couple of paper towels. “Perry says he’s here for the Lawson benefit. Hot damn, Caro! We saw him conduct in San Francisco last August when we went out to see the kids. That man’s butt in tails made two hours of Mahler almost bearable!” Her dramatic sigh was pure Julie. “Those shoulders and that hair? Yum! Think a younger Jeff Bridges in that movie he did with Barbara Streisand. You know the one? God, he was so hot in that film.” She still hadn’t stopped to take a breath.

  Carrie tried again. “Jules, hey—”

  But Julie talked right over her, much to Liam and Will’s amusement. “Do you remember the name of that movie? Lord, if Charlie ever kicks it, I’m calling this conductor guy. I could use a little sexy culture. Perry says he’s staying at Noah’s—that he came on a yacht or something. Do you believe that? Have you seen it yet?” She waltzed into the studio, her blonde hair flying. “Have you seen him?”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen him.”

  Julie stopped short, giving Carrie a long curious stare. Then her blue eyes squinted as she spotted the two men standing by the window.

  “Oh crap!” Julie came around the desk. “Holy Mary, mother of our Lord. It’s you.”

  Both men burst out laughing as Liam came forward, extending a hand. “Hi there. I’m Liam Reilly, and this is Will Brody.” He nodded toward his friend. “And you are?”

  Julie closed her eyes and swept her hair behind her ears. Her face flushed, but she carried it off with her own brand of panache. “Julie Miles, Carrie’s big-mouthed and very embarrassed friend. Nice to meet you.” She shook hands with Liam and glanced at Carrie. “Thanks a lot, pal!”

  Carrie put her hands up in a helpless gesture and shrugged. “I tried to stop you.”

  “So you’re not a big Mahler fan?” Liam crossed his arms over his chest while Will and Carrie snickered like kids.

  “Not at all. How do you know Carrie? Through Eliot?” She stood in the center of the studio, her eyes shifting from Liam to her friend and then back again. Carrie still hadn’t said a word. Suddenly Julie’s eyes widened. “Oh, good God! Carrie?” She turned, a huge question on her face, and Carrie knew she’d doped it out within ten seconds.

  “Liam is Jack’s father.” Carrie watched her friend assess the Maestro.

  She walked back and forth, arms folded under her perfect breasts, looking him over as if he was a used car and she was considering kicking his tires. She shook back her blonde mane. “Well... he certainly is. Where the hell’ve you been, bucko?”

  Liam and Will both straightened at the about-face in Julie’s attitude, glancing at one another, wide-eyed.

  Will shook his head. “I think she’s going to kick your ass, pal.” He gave the words a corner-of-the-mouth delivery without even attempting to lower his voice.

  “No, wait.” Although Carrie put her hand up, she was curious to see exactly how far Julie would go to defend her friend’s honor. Will was probably wrong about the ass-kicking, but Julie was sure to give Liam a serious piece of her mind. “Liam didn’t know about Jack. I never told him.”

  “Are you kidding me, Caro?” Julie shot Liam a puzzled look. “Why not? What’s wrong with this guy?

  “What happened to all that admiration for your great butt?” Will muttered.

  Liam shrugged as Carrie spoke to her friend, who was still eyeing both men with open curiosity. Carrie gave her the two-minute version, promising more details at the earliest opportunity.

  “This isn’t pure coincidence, is it?” Julie asked. “Do I sense Eliot’s fine hand in this reunion?”

  “You do. He’s the one who brought Liam here.”

  “Good for him. Who’d have thought the old cuss had it in him?” Julie grinned. “God Almighty. Who’d ever believe your life is a damned made-for-TV movie?”

  “I didn’t plan for it to be.” With a grim smile, Carrie jerked her head toward the back of the shop. When it came to her friends, Julie could be as unrelenting as a bull terrier. Carrie really didn’t want her questioning Liam—or revealing things she and Liam hadn’t discussed. “How about I catch you later, okay?”

  Julie turned to Liam. “So what are your intentions, Sparky?” Carrie’s frustrated sigh drew a glance, but Jules stood her ground. “I have a right to ask, Carrie. You’re my dearest friend.”

  “First of all,” Liam began, “I intend to meet my son.”

  “You married or engaged or anything?”

  “Nope.” Liam shook his head slowly while Will let out a whoop of laughter.

  Julie glared at him.

  Liam elbowed him in the ribs.

  “Come on, it’s okay. Truly.” Carrie put her arm around her friend’s shoulders. With a grimace, Julie allowed herself be led to the back door of the studio. “I’ll fill you in later, I promise.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Julie asked. “We really need to talk.”

  “I know we do. Believe me, I know.” Carrie hugged her. “I love you, Jules.”

  “We are so getting together. I’ll call you in the morning.”

  As soon as Carrie closed the door, Liam and Will hooted with laughter. Returning to the studio, she stepped around them to flip the sign over and lock the front door, rolling her eyes at their antics.

  “God, Carrie, I think I’m in love.” Will was practically breathless with glee. “She’s a knock-out.”

  Liam nodded his agreement, doing a rotten job of keeping a straight face. “A knock-out alright, but kinda scary.” He finally let go with a giant guffaw. “She really wanted to hurt me.”

  “She probably could’ve taken you.” Will leaned against the counter. “She struts like she’s on a Paris runway. Damn, she’s hot!”

  “As it happens, she is a model.” Carrie couldn’t help laughing. Julie always made a serious first impression. “And she is hot, but she’s also fiercely loyal. Let that be a lesson to both of you. We take care of each other in this town.”

  After reassuring Liam she would meet him on the boat for supper, she shooed them out.

  Julie was the best, ready to protect her friend at the first sign of trouble. Her attitude wasn’t the problem—Carrie treasured that. No, the problem was the fact that in no time at all, she’d realized Jack was the connection between Carrie and Liam. Perry’s imagination had to be working overtime as well, and since his coffee shop was the town’s gossip hub, the entire population would have the scoop by noon tomorrow.

  Maestro Liam Reilly is Jack Halligan’s long-lost father.

  Just thinking about it made her head throb. Was there any way to get home and into the tub without running into a single townsperson? Maybe—if she scooted out the back door and zipped down the hill behind the boathouse. Despite his smile, she knew Liam was still furious. Why had she ever agreed to dinner? Her shoulders sagged. That event was going to take every emotional resource she possessed.

  And her resources were in very short supply.

  SEVEN

  “Carrie, where are you?” Julie yelled up the loft steps.

  “Up here. I’m in the tub.” Carrie had settled into the bubbles, hoping to relax. Closing her eyes, she laid her head back against the rounded edge of the bathtub.

  Julie pounded up the stairs, appearing in the doorway a few seconds later. Their camaraderie still amazed Carrie. She was perfectly comfortable with her friend coming in to chat while she was in the tub. Even in college, she hadn’t been one run to around the dorm clad only in a towel or take a shower in front of the other girls. Somehow she’d never developed the confidence to be so unselfconscious. But Julie brought such matter-of-factnes
s to all things that having her make herself at home in the bathroom felt entirely normal.

  “Okay, every detail and don’t even think of leaving anything out.” Julie dropped the toilet lid and plopped down, her legs extended out in front of her on the fuzzy yellow rug. “Talk, kiddo.”

  Carrie gave her a long look, but Julie’s stern stare told her she was brooking no argument about this discussion.

  “C’mon,” Julie prodded. “You didn’t really think I was going to wait until tomorrow morning to hear this, did you?”

  “Foolishly, I thought you might.” Carrie reached through her bubbles for the glass of wine sitting on the edge of the tub. “Do you want some wine? It’s in the kitchen.”

  “Wine? Hell no. Right now I need information.”

  “I think you’ve pretty much got most of the story.” Carrie sipped her wine. “Liam Reilly is Jack’s father.”

  “My God, girl. That man’s to die for. If he’s the high water mark for your love life, no freakin’ wonder you hardly ever date.” Julie’s eyes sparkled. “How did you keep this a secret from me all this time? Oh, and by the way, don’t ever do that again.”

  “I kept it a secret from everyone but Eliot. I couldn’t talk about him. It was—too hard.”

  “Why didn’t you tell him you were pregnant, you idiot? I don’t get that at all. He’s Jack’s father. He had a right to know. It’s not like he’s a serial killer or anything.”

  “We’d only known each other for a week when I got pregnant. By the time I found out, he was in Europe. I couldn’t face him, not with a pregnancy. He’s a decent guy. He’d have wanted to marry me, and his whole life would’ve been completely messed up.” She set her glass back on the edge of the tub.

  “Oh, and yours wasn’t?”

  “My life was already in chaos with Dad’s death and our farm going up for sale because of his gambling debts.” Carrie squeezed creamy shower gel onto a bath sponge. Lathering it up, she spread some on her leg and reached for her razor. “By the time I found out I was pregnant, I knew I wasn’t going to be playing in piano competitions. It wasn’t what I wanted anyway—it was Dad’s dream for me to be a concert pianist like Mother. I’d lived it for so long, I didn’t even have any dreams of my own.”