The Return of Antonides: Christmas at the Castello(21)

* * *

He waited for the other shoe to drop.

Ever since he'd helped Holly into the cab, Lukas had expected a phone  call saying that something had come up, that she wouldn't be able to  have dinner with him on Saturday night after all.

He deliberately worked with power tools all evening so he wouldn't hear  the phone when it rang. But when he checked his voice mail before he  went to bed that night, there was no message from Holly.

There were seven others, including one from Jenn, the office manager who was supposed to be arriving Monday.

"Ah, Luke," she'd said, her normal Aussie drawl powered by excitement.  "Really sorry, but I can't come! Bryan's popped the question! Who knew?"

Lukas ground his teeth. Who indeed? And where the hell was he going to  find a gallery manager at this late date? He wanted to tear his hair  out.

The other six messages were from various family members, all inviting  him to come out to his parents' place in the Hamptons the weekend after  next.

"I miss you," his grandmother had said. "Why did you come back to New York if you don't come out here?"

"Theo and the kids and I will be at the folks' this weekend," Martha had said. "You know you want to see us."

"Week from Saturday, Mom and Dad's. Be there," Cristina had commanded.

Only his mother had been unable to conceal the real agenda. "The  Panathakoses will be here all week," she'd said. "You remember their  beautiful daughter, Angelika? She's looking forward to seeing you  again."

Lukas had groaned. But he'd taken heart, too. At least none of the messages was from Holly.

Still, that left Friday-and all day Saturday-for her to change her  mind, to come up with some excuse that he would have to argue with  before he got to see her again. She didn't call on Friday-and he was in  the office all day, trying to round up a new gallery manager and  finishing a preliminary run-through of the final group of potential  grant recipients.

It felt like the longest day in history as he kept himself almost tied  to his chair, sensing Skeet gazing down the back of his neck. But at the  end of the day he had a stack of twenty finalists from which to make  his three choices. He also had a list of half a dozen possible gallery  manager candidates that Sera must have pulled out of a hat-and he knew  for a fact that Holly hadn't tried to reach him. There was no message on  his phone, and Sera hadn't heard from her, either.

He was whistling when he went to the boatyard Saturday morning. The  kids were delighted to see him, and he had to admit Holly was right:  they had been counting on him being there.

That time passed quickly, but the afternoon dragged. He needed to talk  to both his cousin Alex and to the contractor before he did more on the  apartment where he was working. He'd done enough grant proposals to fry  his brain permanently. And he still had four hours until he could  legitimately appear on Holly's doorstep.

So he went over to Elias and Tallie's place for distraction.

"I thought you were supposed to choose the winners yourself," Tallie  chided when he appeared in her kitchen and dropped into a chair and  tossed a pile of grant proposals on the table in front of him.

"Yes. And I will. But I don't entirely trust myself," he admitted. He  poked a finger at the stack of applications. "These are, in my  estimation, the most promising of the lot. But I still want to bang some  heads against the wall and say, 'Get on with it. You don't need a grant  to get off your butt and make a change.'"

Tallie laughed. "Probably not what your friend had in mind."

"He should have," Lukas muttered. "But-" he raked a hand through his  hair "-you're right. He expected me to be supportive." And if his lips  twisted on the last word, well, there was just so far he could make  himself go. "Anyway, I thought maybe you could give me your opinion. I  promise I'll make the final decision," he added quickly.

Sounds of boys shouting and scuffling their way down the stairs  interrupted them. Tallie glanced toward the stairs and winced at  Digger's sudden bellow. "Not sure when I'll have time. Elias took a  prospective client out for a sail today. So it's just me and the  heathens."                       
       
           



       

"I'll take 'em to the park," Lukas said.

"You must be desperate. Be my guest." Tallie made shooing movements toward the door with her hands.

"Thea, too?" Lukas looked warily at his niece, who was banging her  spoon on the kitchen table. She was somewhere on the not-quite-civilized  side of three, but a force in her own right-as only a girl with three  older brothers could be.

"No. She still needs a nap. And she might even get one with the boys  gone. Can you keep them away until four?" she asked hopefully.

"My pleasure," Lukas assured her.

"Thank you. I should be doing it for you anyway," Tallie added. "I owe you."

Lukas's raised his brows. "You do?" He didn't remember doing her any favors recently.

"For what I said when you brought your friend-Holly-over last weekend.  Calling her Grace." Even now the color flushed Tallie's cheeks.

Lukas's mouth twisted. "It worked out. Gave me a reason to explain who Grace is-and isn't-in my life."

"Is it serious? You and Holly?"

Lukas grimaced. "Nothing to be serious about."

"Really? I thought you looked interested. You certainly turned red when I called her Grace!"

Lukas shrugged. He had denied it for so long that it had become part of  who he was-the guy who wasn't interested in Holly. But now he said  cautiously, "I could be. Maybe."

Tallie laughed. "Well, don't bowl her over with your enthusiasm."

The boys bounced into the kitchen just then so he didn't reply. He  didn't know what he'd have said anyway. What was there to say?

"Uncle Lukas is going to take you to the park," she told the boys.

Instantly, the stampede was on. Tallie smiled at him. "Go to the park,"  she commanded. "Have a good time. The boys will keep you busy. You  won't have time to answer your phone."

Lukas gathered up bats and balls, baseball gloves, a football and a  soccer ball, then chivvied Garrett, Nick and Digger out the door.

"Don't let them drive you nuts." Tallie fixed him with a hard look.

Lukas just grinned. "They're fine." The noise and bounce of little boys  was easy to handle. It was the rest of his life-well, what he felt  about Holly and what she felt about him-that threatened his sanity. He  dropped his mobile phone on the kitchen counter.

"What's this?" Tallie said.

"I don't want any interruptions."

Tallie looked doubtful, but he didn't offer any other  explanation-especially not the real one: that he didn't want a phone  call from Holly telling him she had changed her mind.

But he wasn't entirely surprised when he brought them back shortly after four that she had left a message on his voice mail.

Lukas waited until he was back in his SUV to listen to it. "Sorry to  leave it so late." Holly sounded slightly breathless and just a bit  frazzled. "But I can't go to dinner. I've sold the condo and I have to  clear things out. Maybe we can do it another time...like in a couple of  years when I get back." There was a light strained laugh. "Anyway,  thanks for the invitation. See you someday. Maybe. Love your gallery."  And then there was a click.

See you someday. Maybe.

Another end-before it really began.

No. Not someday. Not maybe. There was something between them-always had  been. For years they hadn't allowed themselves to discover what it  might become. Maybe nothing. He had to admit that. Maybe he'd just been  focusing on her because, in a sense, she was the one who'd got away.

Girls had normally flocked to him. It's disgusting, Martha said, The  way you practically have to beat them off with a stick. Can't any girl  say no to you?

One had. One did.

Maybe if he got her to say yes-and want him, mind, body and soul-that  would be enough. Maybe, though, he was as guilty as Skeet of not going  after what he thought he wanted. Did he want a foundation to help him do  it?

Hell, no.

And what kind of excuse was selling her condo? It didn't mean she had to stop eating.

At least she loved his gallery.

You had to start somewhere.

* * *

The unexpected chime of the doorbell reached Holly even deep within the  bedroom closet. She ignored it, swiped a hand across her damp brow and  plunged even deeper into the mess. She had to get through it, pack what  she intended to keep, and donate the rest to the charity shop on Monday.  Then she needed to start on the books. God, the books! They were going  to be far worse than the closet.

The doorbell rang again. Longer this time. Louder.