Page 83 of Ten Beach Road

Twenty-seven

Avery stood in the master bathroom, staring at her reflection in the oversized makeup mirror that Deirdre had affixed to the wall when the mirrors were sent out for re-silvering. She was achingly glad to have both privacy and time, but she could have lived without the magnification and illumination. She also could have lived without all of Deirdre’s things spread around her, especially the scent of her heavy gardenia perfume—the one that Avery used to sneak into her missing mother’s closet to smell.

Avery moved aside the bottom of the white sheet that now hung over the bathroom’s garden window and peeked out toward the street where a small mob of photographers milled around hoping for a shot at Kyra but settling for anyone they could catch in their viewfinders. They’d lost almost a full day of work as they’d raced to cover the bedroom and bathroom windows and debated whether to continue to work outside where the zoom lenses had no trouble capturing them. Finally they’d decided that they couldn’t keep cowering inside even in the deliciously air-conditioned cool and still meet their schedule, so for the most part they went back about their business, ignoring the shouts of “look this way” and “what’s your name, luv?” But Avery wasn’t the only one of them who’d gone back to wearing makeup and giving thought to what she wore.

Deirdre poked her head through the bathroom doorway, now also hung with a sheet since the bathroom and bedroom doors had been removed for refinishing. Her hair looked freshly blow-dried and her makeup artfully applied. She wore a pair of white linen pants, a glittery fuchsia T-shirt, and a cropped linen jacket as if she were off on a cruise or for lunch at the yacht club. Avery would die before saying so, but she hoped she looked half that good when she was staring down sixty.

“Can you join us in the kitchen?” Deirdre asked.

“Join who?”

“Chase and I are going to discuss the kitchen renovation. I thought you’d want to be a part of the conversation.”

Avery looked at Deirdre, uncertain.

“He’s never going to come out and invite your participation. He’s a lot like his father; once he takes a position he doesn’t really know how to back off it.” Her mouth softened. “And you’re a lot like yours.”

Avery grimaced. “I’m surprised you can remember that far back. I’m sure there have been tons of men since my father.”

“Oh, you never forget your first love.” She came through the door to stand next to Avery.

“Right.”

They were exactly the same height, had the same hazel gray eyes and busty build, the same flyaway blonde hair, or they would have if Deirdre’s had been allowed to fly anywhere but where she intended.

“And you certainly never forget your daughter. Even if you’ve made the mistake of leaving her behind.”

Avery closed her eyes for a moment and moved out of mirror range. “You make it sound like you forgot a lipstick or an outfit. Is that the way you remember it? Well, I don’t have any fond memories of you.” She wouldn’t let herself. “All I remember is that you left and didn’t come back.”

“Avery, it wasn’t about you. It was . . .”

“I don’t really want to hear what it was or wasn’t.” She smoothed a hand down the T-shirt and capris she’d pulled on, wishing she could smooth the hurt away as easily. “We can work together and I’ll be as civil as I can. But there’s not going to be anything more than that. Ever.”

Deirdre nodded and followed her out of the bedroom and down the back stairs where a glance out the fixed glass confirmed that several boats idled off the seawall, their occupants holding cameras with lenses long enough to shoot into the next city. Several other photographers had congregated on the path to the jetty and on the far side of the Dumpster. For all Avery knew, several could be crouching inside sifting through their garbage.

Chase stood as they entered the kitchen. Maddie was wiping the countertop. A fresh pot of coffee was brewing.

“I can’t believe they’re still out there,” Avery said. “I feel like we’re under siege.”

“I know,” Maddie said. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad there are so many crystals on that chandelier. I’m nowhere near ready to go outside and face those cameras.”

Maddie poured Chase another cup of coffee.

“Do we know how they found out about Kyra?” Chase asked.

Maddie shook her head. “Kyra says their relationship wasn’t exactly a secret on set, but I didn’t think anyone outside Bella Flora knew that Deranian had fathered her baby. As to how they found her here—she’s been pretty vocal and visible on YouTube.”

“No kidding.” Avery’s tone was dry.

“Hopefully they’ll just get tired of waiting and go away,” Chase said. “I don’t know, though. They’re pretty inventive. One of them put on work clothes and followed Umberto out back to the pool house—we’re going to stub out a bath and kitchen area and frame the interior rooms. We all thought he was another one of Enrico’s cousins until he whipped out his camera.”

Maddie carried a cup of coffee into the dining room. Through the back window, Avery could see Nikki and Joe Giraldi working on the last of the interior doors under the shade of the triple palm. Not for the first time, she wondered what was going on between them; they didn’t seem like lovers or even great friends, but there was something not at all casual between them.

“So.” Avery joined Chase and Deirdre in the center of the kitchen. “Deirdre says we’re discussing the kitchen renovation.”

Chase looked between Deirdre and Avery in surprise and it was clear Deirdre hadn’t warned him.

“Do you have a problem with that?” Avery asked.

---