Read Online Cognac & Couture (The Passport Series Book 2) by Celia Kennedy - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Celia Kennedy
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not knowing what I had
kept to myself.
I slumped as I spoke. “It’s a long story and it’s late.
Maybe we should just talk about Stella McCartney or something. What did you
think of—?”
Their heads swiveled one to the other, seeking guidance,
looking concerned. Tiziana spoke gently. “Bella, you don’t have to tell us, but
you must know that if something has happened, you can confide in us.”
I nodded, the lump in my throat preventing me from talking.
I took a few stabs at it. “It was a long time ago…” and “I didn’t tell you, and
now…” and “after all these years…” after all these years, my secret, born
from the desire to protect myself, is going to be revealed, and I feel bad for
so many reasons.
***
Where to
begin was elusive. My thoughts scattered as I tried to determine what to tell
them, how to explain Mikkel to them. Trying to condense one person, one epic
summer, one uncontainable love, a tragic death into a few sentences was
incredibly difficult.
“I’m trying to figure out where to
start,” I told them eventually. My eyes scoured the room, lighting upon a prism
cast by a crystal lamp. The beginning, I guess. “It was the summer
before my last year in graduate school, and I knew I didn’t want to move back
to Seattle, so I took a summer job there so that I could spend time with my
mom, see old friends.” As I spoke, memories of my friend Kimberly’s party
flitted through my mind. “I met a guy from Denmark, Mikkel, at a friend’s party
and then ran into him a few days later.”
***
What
was I thinking? I threw myself down on the
grass and felt every muscle in my body ache from exhaustion. I had spent the
last two hours windsurfing on Lake Union, and while there had only been a light
breeze, it had been strenuous enough that I had either worked hard or fallen
off my board and then had to haul myself out of the water. I was going to feel
every muscle in my body tomorrow.
After resting, I tackled my board.
I was almost finished rinsing it when I heard, “Hello. We met the other night.
I’m Mikkel. Do you need some help with that?” he offered in a friendly,
slightly accented voice, his blue eyes squinting as he smiled in the late
afternoon sun.
Wow! He was impossible to forget: tall, well built, gorgeous,
and he had a sexy voice. We had met a few nights ago at a party, where the
music was loud; many party-goers were drunk or dancing or both. A handful of us
had fled to the outdoors to talk, only to be interrupted when the cops arrived
and shut the party down. All I’d been able to do was smile and say, “Bye, it
was nice to meet you.”
Grinning, I said, “I remember you!”
I looked around, and, while it was a busy marine industrial area, there wasn’t
much here to draw a sightseer’s attention. I frankly observed, “If you don’t
mind my saying so, it seems a bit odd for us to run into each other, unless of
course you were windsurfing as well.”
He looked me straight in the eye
and without hesitation told me, “Kimberly wouldn’t give me your number, so she
called your house. Your mother told her where you were.” He pointed across the
street, where Kimberly was sitting in her car, watching us with a huge smile
painted across her face.
“So, do you want some help?” he
asked again.
I was smitten. Immediately. I
liked his candor, his confidence. Everything about him left me feeling tingly
all over. I gave Kimberly a thumbs up and said, “That’d be great. Thanks.” My
assessment that he was strong was confirmed a few minutes later, when he hefted
the board easily. He looked at me questioningly. I pointed to my ancient Subaru
station wagon with a roof rack, and he walked toward it. From behind, I
appreciated his long, tanned legs that poked out the bottom of dark green board
shorts. His faded blue T-shirt, barely holding together, emphasized his broad
shoulders. What little I could see, I liked very much.
When he returned, I had finished
rinsing down
kept to myself.
I slumped as I spoke. “It’s a long story and it’s late.
Maybe we should just talk about Stella McCartney or something. What did you
think of—?”
Their heads swiveled one to the other, seeking guidance,
looking concerned. Tiziana spoke gently. “Bella, you don’t have to tell us, but
you must know that if something has happened, you can confide in us.”
I nodded, the lump in my throat preventing me from talking.
I took a few stabs at it. “It was a long time ago…” and “I didn’t tell you, and
now…” and “after all these years…” after all these years, my secret, born
from the desire to protect myself, is going to be revealed, and I feel bad for
so many reasons.
***
Where to
begin was elusive. My thoughts scattered as I tried to determine what to tell
them, how to explain Mikkel to them. Trying to condense one person, one epic
summer, one uncontainable love, a tragic death into a few sentences was
incredibly difficult.
“I’m trying to figure out where to
start,” I told them eventually. My eyes scoured the room, lighting upon a prism
cast by a crystal lamp. The beginning, I guess. “It was the summer
before my last year in graduate school, and I knew I didn’t want to move back
to Seattle, so I took a summer job there so that I could spend time with my
mom, see old friends.” As I spoke, memories of my friend Kimberly’s party
flitted through my mind. “I met a guy from Denmark, Mikkel, at a friend’s party
and then ran into him a few days later.”
***
What
was I thinking? I threw myself down on the
grass and felt every muscle in my body ache from exhaustion. I had spent the
last two hours windsurfing on Lake Union, and while there had only been a light
breeze, it had been strenuous enough that I had either worked hard or fallen
off my board and then had to haul myself out of the water. I was going to feel
every muscle in my body tomorrow.
After resting, I tackled my board.
I was almost finished rinsing it when I heard, “Hello. We met the other night.
I’m Mikkel. Do you need some help with that?” he offered in a friendly,
slightly accented voice, his blue eyes squinting as he smiled in the late
afternoon sun.
Wow! He was impossible to forget: tall, well built, gorgeous,
and he had a sexy voice. We had met a few nights ago at a party, where the
music was loud; many party-goers were drunk or dancing or both. A handful of us
had fled to the outdoors to talk, only to be interrupted when the cops arrived
and shut the party down. All I’d been able to do was smile and say, “Bye, it
was nice to meet you.”
Grinning, I said, “I remember you!”
I looked around, and, while it was a busy marine industrial area, there wasn’t
much here to draw a sightseer’s attention. I frankly observed, “If you don’t
mind my saying so, it seems a bit odd for us to run into each other, unless of
course you were windsurfing as well.”
He looked me straight in the eye
and without hesitation told me, “Kimberly wouldn’t give me your number, so she
called your house. Your mother told her where you were.” He pointed across the
street, where Kimberly was sitting in her car, watching us with a huge smile
painted across her face.
“So, do you want some help?” he
asked again.
I was smitten. Immediately. I
liked his candor, his confidence. Everything about him left me feeling tingly
all over. I gave Kimberly a thumbs up and said, “That’d be great. Thanks.” My
assessment that he was strong was confirmed a few minutes later, when he hefted
the board easily. He looked at me questioningly. I pointed to my ancient Subaru
station wagon with a roof rack, and he walked toward it. From behind, I
appreciated his long, tanned legs that poked out the bottom of dark green board
shorts. His faded blue T-shirt, barely holding together, emphasized his broad
shoulders. What little I could see, I liked very much.
When he returned, I had finished
rinsing down
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