Flirting With Disaster (14 page)

“It’s Nola,” she whispered.

“Who’s Nola, Deary?” Alana…Alana Fitzgerald knelt next to her.

“My maid.” The beautiful painting was Nola and the handsome man who’d held her in this room moments ago. Jude glanced around to find them, but they were gone. She pointed. “There, in the picture. That’s Nola, my maid.”

“No, honey, that is Nayeli. She was a Uti Indian princess, daughter of a chief back in the late 1800s.”

Jude smiled at Alana. “And the man? Tell me about the man.” She remembered his grief from her dream.

“Ennis McLoughlin was an Irish immigrant’s son who fell in love with Nayeli. The chief planned to kill Nayeli for she was betrothed to an Indian warrior. Nayeli wanted to run away with Ennis, but convinced her father to end the betrothal to Akando. Folklore states that young Ennis met with her to end the relationship, to save her, not knowing she’d already saved herself. The warrior Akando followed Nayeli to the castle, overheard Ennis breaking Nayeli’s heart and shot an arrow in an attempt to kill young Ennis for disgracing her.”

“What happened?” Sirens wailed in the distance. Jude’s thoughts faded and the room dimmed. The coldness was close to unbearable. “Tell me what happened, Alana.”

“Nayeli jumped in front of Ennis, took the arrow for him and died in his arms, right here in this very room.”

Jude cried, small and silent for the lovers, her maid. Her ghost maid. Such a silly concept. She was a scientist, but since falling mystically and hopelessly in love, anything seemed possible.

“What happened to Ennis?” The urgency in Beck’s voice as he stroked Jude’s hair intrigued her. She tried to focus on his pale features.

“Young Ennis killed himself that night. Hung himself in your room, Beckette. Nayeli had stayed in your room, Jude, the night before their tragic meeting in October, over two hundred years ago this very night. It is said all of these rooms are haunted by the lovers.”

Jude reached up and touched Beck’s cheek. “You know him, don’t you?”

Beck smiled down at her. “Yes, I believe I do.”

Jude closed her eyes as Beck held her and sang Hey Jude just for her.

Sixteen

“Once we accept our limits,

we go beyond them.”

Albert Einstein

J
ude packed her bags on the hospital bed, thrilled to be rid of it. After a week, she was sore, tired and ready to get home.

She hadn’t seen Beck since he’d flown her to the university hospital in Aurora himself, in his own plane. The man was still full of secrets.

He’d dropped her off like a care package with nothing to remember him by but a bouquet of lavender, a get well card, and a now deflated
Beauty and the Beast
Mylar balloon.

Her heart ached. Who would have thought a week in a fairy tale castle could bring such excitement and tenderness. Such love and devastation.

The place really was haunted.

She hoped Beckette had found everything he was looking for. Hoped he’d found a way to forgive himself, a way to love himself.

“You’re leaving?”

She screeched and spun, taking in the handsome familiar form of the first man she’d ever loved. “Beckette.”

“We need to talk.”

She dropped her eyes and zipped her suitcase. “No, we don’t.”

“We do. I need to explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain, Beck. I need things you’re not willing to give. God forbid, you have faith in yourself and accept my love and use it to heal.”

He sighed. “I
am
sorry.”

Jude tilted her head. “For what, exactly? Dropping me here like a used condom and not coming back all week? Or for not being able to love me because you think you’re a cursed soul?”

“I was here every fucking day. I just couldn’t look at how you were injured, almost dead, because of me.”

“Stop being so self-centered. I wasn’t shot because of you. I was shot because of a crazy woman.”

He raked both hands through his hair. “Give me a break here, Jude. Just because you throw your heart around doesn’t mean I have to.”

The man was an idiot. “It’s called love, Beck. It’s not a disease. And this is the first time for me, actually.”

“Well you picked the wrong guy for your first time. I’m cursed, don’t you see that? Everyone who gets near me is in danger. You got shot because of me.”

“You’re whining. It’s unbecoming.”

“I brought you into this because I wanted you, had to have you.” He paced across the room and glanced out the window. “Love just isn’t in my DNA. Alcoholism is.”

She needed him gone. His excuses for why he didn’t love her ripped her apart, but she’d never allow him the satisfaction of seeing it. “Alcoholism is a devastating disease, but it can be controlled, Beck. You can still live a full life.” She zipped then lifted her suitcase from the bed. “Good luck with everything.”

He faced her again. “Christ, you’re awful serene. You sure you love me? Because, from where I’m standing, you look like a woman getting ready to sort laundry. I…I can’t be what you want, Jude.”

“Are you saying I’m needy?” She couldn’t help her shrill tone. He was pissing her off.

He ran a scarred hand over his face. “Everything about you is needy. Those cat eyes, that centerfold body, that…that brain of yours. You scream ‘take me, love me, be with me.’ It’s taking everything I have not to come over there and grab on to you for dear life.”

Jude waited, hoping he’d recognize his ridiculousness.

“All of it makes me need you, and I don’t want to need you. I shouldn’t need anyone.”

“Needing someone isn’t bad, Beck. It’s vulnerable. And vulnerability can be a good thing where love is involved.”

He shook his head. “If I become vulnerable, I’ll inevitably drag you down with me when I spiral. I can’t do that to you, Jude. I can’t do love or relationships. Especially with y—”

“Yeah, I know. But I’m a big strong girl, Beck.” God, he made her feel worthless. “I know about my parents and I know about Elizabeth. And I still somehow love you and know you are a wonderful man. Amazing, isn’t it? How destructive our self image can be? You’re letting yours ruin your life.”

“I killed her.”

“Elizabeth killed herself. You had a fight. Something people do and then they work it out. Rational people don’t kill themselves. You had no chance to save her, Beck. That was all on her. And the plane? You were a stupid, irresponsible kid. I think you feel enough remorse for a thousand people.”

He locked his hands behind his head and exhaled forcefully.

Jude sighed. “You’re good to go. No need to keep repeating yourself. I didn’t ask you to come here, so stop with the guilt. I understand many love affairs terminate because the love one person has is not reciprocated by the other, and I’m okay with that. Look at poor Evan. I forgot about him the first minute I saw you, and your talents are nothing compared to Evan’s skills with lip liner. And have you seen my surgeon? I’ll be lucky to get out of here without him proposing to me again. He makes you look like Yoda. No offense. It took me a while to figure it out, but the opinions of the Harry Strubel’s of this world don’t mean shit to me anymore. I’m Jude Duffy and I can swim!”

His crestfallen features were a façade she was sure he’d mastered in acting school. “What if I don’t want you to go?”

“You’ll either get over it or you’ll man up and decide your demons don’t feed off of love. They feed off your fear, and those fears can’t be conquered unless you face them. You taught me that. You’ll never know if you can overcome until you try, Beck.”

She pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth and forced a smile. “Now, I’ve got things to do. My Tantric massage therapist is waiting for me in New York.” She’d be damned if she’d let him see her pain. Damned if she let him pity her or see her cry. “I won’t be another man’s millstone. I’m better than that. Take care and, hey, good luck with that career you hate but think you need.”

“I do this for both of us, Jude!”

She shook her head in disbelief. “Not for me, you don’t.” There was no ‘us’. There never had been. He’d made sure of that.

“The money has been going into your trust since I started acting fifteen years ago.”

She stilled, her mouth dropping like a guppy. “Well, you can take every damn pity penny back.”

* * * *

The movie schedule was gruesome, the weather bleak and his life…meaningless.

Beck had spent the last month immersed in work, but nothing helped. He couldn’t stop thinking of Dr. Jude Duffy.

Why, he had no idea.

Which was a lie.

His job was to be his focus, his rehab, where all his concentration and efforts could be channeled to keep the demons at bay.

But he’d never wanted to drown himself in alcohol more than he had the past thirty days.

At least I’m not afraid to love.

He crushed the empty can of Mountain Dew his new agent had handed him on his way back to his trailer. Jude just didn’t get how the world worked.

I tried and things didn’t work out. That’s more than I can say for you.

He had tried, hadn’t he? Didn’t she know she deserved better?

Vulnerability can be a good thing where love is involved.

He flung open his trailer door and stomped in. His ever present JD bottle sat on the counter, taunting him.

You’ll either get over it or you’ll man up and decide your demons don’t feed off of love. They feed off your fear, and those fears can’t be conquered unless you face them.

He grabbed the bottle and smashed it against the wall. He didn’t ache for alcohol. He found no joy in work. He only ached for the sight of her face, her touch and the joy and peace he’d found in her arms.

She’d changed him. Changed his view of who and what he really was. Who he could become. A good man, loved by her.

She was his new addiction. A positive one.

Finally.

He only hoped it wasn’t too late.

* * * *

Intellectuals solved problems, geniuses were supposed to prevent them.
Like hell.
Einstein had been wrong. Geniuses created problems with their rapid fire ideas and god-awful judgment.

Jude rounded the bend in Central Park, mumbling to herself, then gasped.

A huge stage stood in the center of Sheep Meadow. In the middle of metal work and speakers, a man sat at a baby grand piano. A beast dressed in black.

Beckette.

She would’ve known him anywhere.

“Jude Duffy, this is for you.” She drank in his molten voice through the mic as his soulful gaze met hers.

He began to play and the audience went completely silent. She recognized the song. One of her
Beatles
favorites. A song of love and change.

Maybe I’m Amazed.

His voice pierced her soul, as she plopped to the grass in shock.

Once it was over, when her heart lay on the ground splayed open, he rose and exited the stage toward her.

“You were a bit flat in the third chorus.” Jude stood, her heart in her throat at the sight of him. “You’re no Paul McCartney, you know. Not Ringo, even.”

His features softened. “I haven’t been sleeping much.”

Jude shrugged. She needed to keep up her defenses. “Partying will do that to a person.”

She didn’t want him here. Didn’t want his guilt, his pity, his fishing line thrown out just so he could haul it back in before she bit. She couldn’t go through the pain of loving and missing him again.

She was healing. She’d made a new life for herself. Her career as a children’s book author was taking off. She was making it on her own. On her terms.

She was happy.

“I don’t party. I haven’t been sleeping because I miss you.”

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “You don’t miss me, you miss the sex. I was pretty phenomenal.”