Tom took her home after dinner and brought her upstairs. He asked her what weekends she was free so he could plan their trip, and he kissed her lightly on the lips. She thanked him for dinner, and he left. As she let herself into the apartment, she saw that Kate was waiting up for her. She had an expectant look on her face, and Annie could sense that if she had come home at two in the morning, Katie would still have been sitting there.

“Whatever it is must be important,” Annie said as she hung up her coat with a sigh. It would have been nice to have one evening without drama. She was looking forward to going away with Tom now. And she didn’t want Katie to spoil it, but she was beginning to realize that anything was possible at the ages they were now. And Katie and Paul were deeply in love. Annie walked into the living room and sat down on the couch and looked at Katie. “Okay. What is it?”

“I just want to give you a heads-up,” Katie said with a serious expression, and Annie could see that she was prepared to put up a fight. Annie waited to hear what it was about. “I’m going to Iran for two weeks with Paul. I got my visa, and we paid for our tickets. I just want you to know. You can’t stop me, and I didn’t want to lie to you. So I’m telling you. We leave two weeks from tomorrow.” There was dead silence in the room after she spoke. And the reaction she got from Annie was not the one she had expected. Her aunt spoke to her in a low, calm, controlled voice. Maybe the evening with Tom had helped. The time she spent with him gave her perspective.

“I’m going to be totally honest with you,” Annie said calmly. She was unhappy about it but not crazed. “I think it’s an incredibly stupid idea, to the point of being dangerous. Not only will you be in danger there, but you’re going as a mixed couple to a country where you’ll both be ostracized severely for being together. I think what you’re doing is foolhardy, and I’m going to worry like crazy about you while you’re there, and Tom told you the same thing and you don’t want to listen to him either. He knows a lot more about Iran than I do, or even Paul. But you’re right, you’re an adult. I can’t stop you. You have a right to make your own choices, decisions, or mistakes.” Annie’s eyes filled with tears then as she spoke to her. “The bottom line for me here is not some kind of power trip. I’m not trying to control you. I buried my sister. I don’t ever want to bury one of her kids. I just hope you’ll be okay,” Annie said as she stood up, picked up her crutches, and walked to her room.

Katie sat staring at her and didn’t say a word. She had expected a pitched battle, and hours of screaming and threats. Instead, Annie had done what she knew she had to do—she had respected her niece’s right to make her own decisions and let go. She thought Katie was wrong, but she didn’t even try to stop her. Now they both had to live with it: Annie with the worry, and Kate with the full responsibility for being an adult. What Annie had just done was much more impressive, Kate realized, than if she had yelled and forbidden her to go. And now suddenly Kate was worried too. But she had promised Paul she would go. He wanted her to know everything about his world. The hardest part for Katie was if Annie and Tom were right. And as she walked to her own bedroom, two tears of terror slid down Kate’s face. In this case, for the first time, the victory of adulthood was not so sweet.


Chapter 18


Annie’s weekend with Tom was a dream come true. She didn’t even know that people did things like that and indulged themselves with such luxury. For all of her adult life, she had worked and taken care of kids and never even thought of spoiling herself. Her trips had been to Disneyland when they were young, flying around the country to meet with clients, and to Europe twice with the kids and planning their trips around them. She had never taken a vacation by herself and wouldn’t have known what to do with herself if she did. She had filled all the spare time she had in recent years with work. Tom opened up a whole new world for her. He said he had never been there either, but he had put some serious research into the ideal place to take her. And this was it. He took her to the Turks and Caicos in the Caribbean.

They flew directly from Kennedy Airport to Providenciales, and the flight took three and a half hours. They were picked up at the airport by a limousine and taken to the hotel, where he had reserved a villa for them, with its own beach and a private pool. The sand was the color of ivory and as fine as sugar, and the water was completely transparent and turquoise in color. And true to his word, there were two bedrooms in the villa. She had never seen anything so luxurious, and there was a butler to serve their every need. A huge basket of fruit was sitting on the table, and a bottle of champagne. She felt as though she had died and gone to heaven. This was as far as you could get from the stresses and anxieties of daily life. They were planning to be there for three days, and she just prayed that no emergency would come up for either of them that would interfere. In her case, her nieces and nephew, and in his, some kind of news crisis in the world. He was vulnerable to that at any time.

“I don’t believe this,” she said with a look of childlike disbelief. It was like finding out that Santa Claus really did exist, and Tom was it, minus the red suit and white beard. He had planned the perfect vacation for them. They could go to nearby restaurants or eat at the villa, lie in the pool, walk on the beach, swim in the translucent water, and see no other human for three days if they chose. It was like being dropped off in paradise, and he put his arms around her as she looked at everything with delight and amazement. It was the nicest gift anyone had ever given her. The gift of time and peace, to share with him. It was like a honeymoon. “I have to be the luckiest woman in the world,” she said, smiling at him, and he kissed her.

“It’s a reward for the sprained ankle and being a very brave girl about everything you do.” What he said brought tears to her eyes. “I’ve never known anyone who handled so much and does so much and does it well. I’d just love to get you to handle a little less, so we have time for us,” he said gently. This was a great place to learn. She felt completely removed from real life, even the kids, although they knew how to reach her and where they were. And she had promised herself not to talk about them constantly for the next three days.

They walked on the beach that night before they went to bed and swam in their private pool. They both wore bathing suits since they hadn’t crossed that bridge yet, and they talked for hours in the moonlight, and when they finally went to bed, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to share a bedroom. She lay in Tom’s arms, totally at ease with him. She was shivering a little, but it was anticipation, not terror, and neither of them was disappointed. It was exactly what they had hoped it would be, two halves coming together as one whole. They both felt as though it was meant to be.

They sat on their terrace naked afterward, holding hands and kissing, and swam in the pool again, naked this time, and then they went back to the bed where they had discovered each other and lay cuddled close all night. They slept like children and woke up early and made love again. It was noon when they ordered breakfast on their terrace, and they went for a walk on the beach afterward. They were in and out of the ocean all day and had dinner on their terrace that night. They made love in the pool. They laughed at silly things. And Annie told him about losing her sister while Tom held her. They talked about their childhoods, their hopes, their disappointments, their dreams. They learned each other’s bodies and it really was a honeymoon. It was the foundation they had needed, the time away from everything.

By the end of three days their bodies had meshed together, their hearts, and their souls. Annie had never been as comfortable with anyone in her life, and Tom felt more married to her than he had to his wife. They had been so different and had had so little in common. That had been all about passion and it burned out very quickly. This was about something so much deeper. Annie felt as though they shared one soul. What they shared defined kindred spirit or soul mate. She never wanted to leave, and they had to tear themselves away on Sunday. Annie told him she would never be able to thank him enough for what he’d done by giving them this vacation.

They sat on the terrace on Sunday morning, trying to figure out where to go from here. The children she had raised were adults now and certainly old enough to understand his spending a night or weekend with her, although they both suspected it would be more peaceful at his place. They talked about living together at some point, and he asked her how she felt about marriage. She wasn’t sure she cared. That had stopped being a goal or even a possibility for her a long time ago, although it was an option again now. In the end, they decided to play it by ear and see how things went. And they made a vow to each other to at least try not to let everyone intrude on them, and to make their relationship a priority. She didn’t care about how much he had to travel for work. And he said he was fine with her work and the kids, as long as there was room in all of it for him too. Their relationship would start in earnest when they left the Turks and Caicos, and they left the villa hand in hand. They both looked back at it and smiled, knowing that they would never forget it. It was the place where their love was born.

On the day Annie and Tom had left for the Turks and Caicos, Lizzie was in her office at Vogue, doing research for a story for the June issue. She had a temporary assistant who buzzed her on the intercom to tell her that she had a call from someone named George. Mr. George, she corrected herself. It sounded like a hairdresser, and Liz had no idea who it was. She started to tell her to take a message, then picked up the call herself. It was faster than explaining it.

“Yes? Liz Marshall,” she said in her official voice. The voice that answered her had a heavy Italian accent but spoke English fluently. She didn’t know who it was at first, and then he introduced himself again. Alessandro di Giorgio, the Roman jeweler who had saved her hide at the shoot in the Place Vendôme. That had been more than a month before.

“Oh, hello!” she said, embarrassed not to have recognized him. “What can I do for you? Are you calling from Rome?” She had promised him advance copies of the piece, but they weren’t ready yet.

“No, I’m in New York,” he explained. “I’m just calling to say hello.” A lot of jewelers kept in touch to keep themselves foremost in her mind, so she wasn’t surprised to hear from him, although she had never had direct contact with him until she met him in Paris. And she hadn’t heard from him since.

“What happened with the emir’s wife? Did she buy any of the other pieces?” She remembered that he had brought the pieces to Paris for her.

“She bought all five pieces that you photographed. She’s very excited that they’re going to be in Vogue.” Liz recalled that it represented five or six million dollars’ worth of jewelry, which was very impressive. But di Giorgio was an important name.

“What are you doing in New York?” Liz asked politely. He was a pleasant man, and he had certainly helped her out.

“I’m looking at a store, but I can’t decide if we should open one here. It’s always been a debate between my father and myself. He thinks yes, I say no. I prefer to stay more exclusive and in Europe. He wants to open in New York, Tokyo, and Dubai.” He laughed then. “In this case the elder is the more modern in his thinking, and I am more conservative. I don’t know. Perhaps we should open here. I am here to look at some stores that are available. And I called to see if you would like to have lunch, if you have time. Will you be in the city this weekend?” Liz liked to get away on weekends when she could, but most of the time she was working, on research or shoots. Sometimes she worked a seven-day week. And she had hoped to go skiing that weekend, but her plan had fallen through.

“Actually, I’ll be here,” she said pleasantly.

“Are you free for lunch on Saturday? I’m staying at the Sherry-Netherland, and Harry Cipriani downstairs is very nice.” It was one of her favorite restaurants, and one of the most fashionable in New York. She smiled. He made it sound like a little bistro that happened to be in his hotel.

“I’d like that. I’ll meet you there.”

“I can pick you up if you like,” he suggested.