that would be especially tough, because Ann’s mom was in Toronto and lived for her work. Phone calls with her daughter were rare, visits even more so. “I’m sure she will,” Rina said hopefully. “Maybe not right away, but in the long run. It might help if she met Adonis.”
“Speaking of which,” Jenny said, “it’s getting so old, no one having met anyone else’s man. I mean, when I think of Suze’s Jaxon, all I see is Denzel Washington. And Ann, my picture of Adonis is a Greek god statue who’s much better endowed.”
“Much, much better.” Ann’s eyes twinkled.
“And we’ve all seen Scott, a whole lot of Scott,” Rina teased, “when he did that sexy dance number at the firefighter calendar competition, but we’ve never met him.”
Suzanne turned to Rina. “And then there’s Al. Maybe.”
Rina groaned. “Perhaps I am expecting too much. No real live man could measure up to my romantic dreams. So he got a little pushy; he was upset. And yeah, we don’t have sparks, but maybe that’s because we’re so compatible. Compatible’s a good thing.”
“You need to see Giancarlo,” Ann said quietly. “You’ll never be sure if Al’s right for you until you resolve the past.”
“I don’t think I have the guts.”
Jen groaned and Ann waved a hand to hush her, then said briskly, “What’s the worst-case scenario? One, he doesn’t remember you. Two, he remembers but doesn’t want to see you. Three, he sees you and, as you suggested, the two of you bore each other to tears. The important thing is, you’ll be able to get him out of your mind. And your dreams.”
“And focus on whether Al’s The One,” Suzanne agreed.
“On the other hand,” Jen grinned wickedly, “you might have another triple-O.”
Driving home to her bungalow in North Van, Rina thought back to how she’d left things with Al on Saturday night. After they’d kissed, she’d said she’d give him a call. He’d asked, “When?” and she’d answered, “I’m not sure.”
Had he actually muttered, “Let me know when you come to your senses”? She didn’t trust her memory. At that point, she’d been too distraught.
And tonight she’d hoped that somehow, magically, the girls would help her reach a “yes or no” decision.
Well, at least they’d helped her figure out a starting point. Talk to Al again. And maybe a second one: contact Giancarlo. Could she?
She drove up the lane beside her house and parked in the old-fashioned one-car garage. Outside, the garden smelled of autumn. Leaves were turning color and starting to fall. It was probably time to dig up bulbs or prune shrubs. She’d have to ask Mrs. Zabriski, the neighborhood’s garden expert, once the VSO audition was over.
Rina gave a sigh of relief as she walked up the back steps and into the welcoming embrace of her cozy home. She was so happy to have a permanent home of her own that she’d bought, decorated and loved.
“Mmrp?” Sabine prowled into the kitchen and Rina squatted down to say hello. Three years ago she’d adopted the shorthaired calico as a kitten from an animal rescue society.
Rina sank her short-nailed musician’s fingers into the soft white fur of the cat’s breast. Scratching and stroking, she worked her way up to Sabine’s chin and ears. The cat arched into her hands, purring happily.
“The girls say I need to contact Giancarlo,” Rina said.
Sabine tilted her head, slitting her lovely green-gold eyes.
“The idea scares the shit out of me,” Rina confessed. “But I think they’re right.” She did need to resolve her past before she could decide about the future.
Though she’d dated a few guys, Giancarlo had been the only one she’d ever had strong feelings for. That summer she was seventeen, they’d felt like soul mates. The skinny small-town Italian boy, the fat Jewish girl who called no place home. What they’d had in common was big noses, big dreams and amazing sex. They’d both had the sense to realize it was a summer thing, though. When they’d talked about keeping in touch, they’d agreed it was pointless.
And she’d never regretted that. Not seriously. But it was time to stop fixating on that summer thing and get on with her life.
She straightened, then lifted Sabine into her arms and headed toward the music room. It occupied what had originally been the dining room of her one-bedroom house, and was the room where she practiced and taught. It housed her piano, five clarinets, desk and computer.
When Rina put the cat down, Sabine leaped onto the desk chair, then to the top of the desk, as if to supervise.
Rina sat down in front of her computer. “Giancarlo probably didn’t fixate on me. In fact, chances are he doesn’t remember me.”
“Mmrrr?” Sabine responded, in a tone that sounded amazingly like, “You really think so?”
Rina chuckled softly. “Yeah. I mean, we were kids, it was so long ago. He’s in this whole music video thing, with gorgeous, svelte performers. Famous ones, up-and-coming ones. He’s successful enough that even if he’s still a skinny guy with a big nose, I bet he’s had more sex in a month than I’ve had in the whole time since I last saw him.”
No response from Sabine. The cat had gone to sleep.
“See, I even bore you, and you love me.”
Okay, time to stop stressing and procrastinating and get it over with. Rina typed in the e-mail address she’d found on Giancarlo’s website, then paused at the subject line.
Blast from the past
she finally typed. Then she tabbed to the message box.
I came across your name the other day, Giancarlo. It brought back memories of Banff, when we were both naïve young music students. Don’t know if you remember me, but I was the pianist who also played clarinet, who…
She paused. What on earth did she intend to say? Who you had sex with all summer? Nope, not good. Either he remembered or he didn’t. She backspaced over the last few words, leaving it at,
Don’t know if you remember me.
Then she added,
Anyhow, if you do and feel like catching up, I live in Vancouver and maybe we could get together. I see from your website you’re in town for a few days.
She stared at the screen. Jenny would say, be more assertive.
But that was Jen. Rina was the passive type. Set it up to give the guy the opportunity and see if he took it.
In other words, leave it in the hands of fate.
2
Giancarlo Mancini yawned as he unlocked the door of his room at the Opus Hotel. His bleary eyes barely noticed the blue walls and stylish, starkly modern décor. All he cared about was crashing on the king-size bed.
