The Perfect Someday (A standalone novel ~ Book three in The Mathews Family) (13 page)

A security guard dressed in a tuxedo, complete with
a bowtie, greeted her at the massive wrought gates. After showing proof of identification, he checked her name from the list and allowed her to pass.

Dozens of cars overtook a small parking lot
at the end of the long drive and limousines lined the narrow blacktop lane. Centuries-old oak trees sheltered the estate in silvery grey-green foliage and vines of bougainvillea, turned brown by winter, attached itself to the rock walls making its way to the top of the three-story turret. Tracy imagined how beautiful the property would look during the full bloom of summer with lush green backdrop and pops of fuchsia and lavenders.

“Wow,” she
whispered in awe as another man in a tuxedo opened her car door.

“Good evening, Miss Mathews.” T
he porter welcomed in a heavy Italian accent. “Let me assist you with your luggage.”

Tracy considered asking how he knew she’d have luggage, but merely nodded absorbed in
every detail of the extravagant villa. Her heels clicked on the brick walkway as he escorted her from the car. Anxiety set in and her pace quickened. Her flight had been delayed and she was late. Tracy hated being late.

The
smell of wood smoke drifting from the chimney welcomed her as she approached the enormous wooden doors. Entering the castle, the young man graciously took her coat.

“Miss Mathews, allow me to escort you to your room.”

“Thank you.” Tracy’s eyes darted down a long hallway wafting her finger toward one hall then the other. “Which way?”

The porter gestured down the first hall with a curt nod. “You are staying in the Chardonnay room, second door on your right.”

After showing her to her room, the porter quickly disappeared. Tracy didn’t take the time to absorb herself in the magnificent furnishings, she simply threw on her espresso brown fitted sheath dress, dragged a brush through her long hair, swiped a fresh coat of nude gloss over her lips, and made her way toward the host of voices and music.

Her hasty steps slowed to a crawl, taking in the grandeur of the foyer she’d passed just minutes before. G
azing toward the ceiling in awe, her mouth hung open as she stood beneath the warm glow of a three tier medieval chandelier the size of a small car. 

A flash of
Tom in the distance caught her eye. “Hey you.”

His head jerked, halting his rush. Tom
ambled toward her with open arms, a bottle of wine in hand, and a smile spread wide exposing his normally hidden dimples. “Hello sweetheart! It’s about time you showed up.”

“My flight was delayed.”

“Lisa made a list of
serious threats if you didn’t make it here on time for her very important, once in a lifetime, surprise anniversary party.” Orneriness gleamed in Tom’s dark brown eyes. He placed a kiss to her forehead and linked his arm through hers, escorting her into the party.

Tracy clung to his arm for stability
, gawking around, taking in the castle stylishly adorned with a twist of modern furniture. Lavish fabrics and finery were wonderfully appointed against original stone walls and wood-beam ceilings. “She really needs a bigger place. This castle is just so…insignificant.”

“I told her the same thing. Not nearly enough character.
Entirely too wimpy.” Tom appeared remarkably rested and relaxed, his sun-chapped complexion suited him well against his grey hair and black suit.

“
Well, don’t you look dashing this evening. How was your holiday in Bora Bora?”

“Heavenly.” His eyes drifted shut drawing in a deep breath.
“But never long enough.”

Tom led her through a sea of
familiar faces, some she’d met in person and others Tracy had seen on the big screen. The average person couldn’t get any more star struck than Tom Clemmins or Benny and Lisa Levi. Fans shrieked, cried, stalked, and turned speechless. Tracy had seen just about everything when it came to obsessed fans. A woman had once bared her chest during their first family red carpet event at a Film Festival in Italy, begging him to sign her vast cleavage.

Tom referred to his day job as acting, but
directing was his passion. He and Benny were in the beginning phases of collaborating a film together.

“How’s your new film coming along?”

Before he could answer, JC swooped in alongside her, latching on to her other arm. “Hey sis!”

“Hi.”
Tracy did a double take of her little sister. “You look beautiful. What have you been doing?”

“Awe thanks! It’s the spray tan. I just did a shoot in Milan yesterday. Plus, they did my hair like thi
s, so I left it for tonight.” She twirled her finger through a long loose piece of caramel hair framing her face.

JC
gently tugged on Tracy’s arm drawing them toward the great room. A dozen well-dressed guests gathered around a grand piano.

Tom lifted one brow, casually guiding them the other direction. “We’re not going over there.”

“Why not? Will you please introduce me?” JC complained. Nodding toward the people assembled around a piano, she asked Tracy giddily, “Did you see who’s here?”

S
training her neck, Tracy caught sight of the gorgeous lead actor in Tom and Benny’s new film. Pulled like a magnet toward the young man’s chiseled good looks, Tracy’s feet automatically followed her sister veering in the direction of the up and coming film star.

“I’ll introduce you later.” Tom’s grip moved to her elbow, tightening his hold.

“Oh, come on. He’s so gorgeous and I never ask you to introduce me to anyone.”

The young man, known
simply as Ryan in Hollywood, shot a wicked feral smile straight at them.

Tracy asked,
“Is that—“

“Look
, I’ll introduce you…later, but he won’t be conversing with either one of you this evening.”

Tracy cast a fleeting glimpse over her shoulder. Raising her fingers to her lips, she whispered out the side of her mouth. “How come?
”

“
Absolutely, unequivocally…no Ryan,” Tom grumbled, sending the young man a dagger glare sharp enough to pierce through a suit of armor. “Because he values his job. And I promised to fire him if he came near either one of you.”

“
We’ve been banned,” JC sulked pretending to dry her tears of sorrow on a napkin. “We’re only allowed to look. No talking or touching.”

“What’s wrong with him?
I loved him in that political thriller…”

“
Look, choosing the perfect lead is difficult. It requires intelligence, acting capabilities, the right look, timing etc. Unfortunately an award winning personality doesn’t always fit into that category.” Tom halted his footsteps, heavy concern weighed in his eyes. “Look, he’s into some freaky shit okay? I’m not going to discuss it with you, but can you please just stay away from him. For me.”

Both girls blinked repeatedly
, shocked by Tom’s firm no-nonsense tone.

“I want your word,” h
e added stubbornly, raising his pinky for an extra measure of assurance.

Tracy and JC both wrinkled their noses in
revulsion. JC held up her pinky to Tom. “Say no more. No freaky shit needed here.”

He
hooked his pinky around JC’s accepting her pinky promise. The edge of Tom’s dark brow lifted fractionally, raising his little finger to Tracy.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that.
” Tracy gladly looped fingers. “I don’t want any freaky shit either.”

“Thank God.
Now that that’s settled, I need a drink.” Tom breathed a sigh of relief and led them outside to the veranda.

Strolling beneath the outdoor corridor,
JC nonchalantly bumped Tracy’s hip. “Here I thought he was going to be the coolest stepdad, but he’s nearly impossible. When I stayed with him and momma in Malibu, he totally interrogated my dates.” Her voice came out in a mock whisper, directed at Tom so he would hear her pretend objections to his over protectiveness.

A soft smile crinkled the lines of wisdom near his temple. “I’m the best stepdad and you know it.”

“Somebody needs to keep you in line.” Unable to keep a straight face, the crack of a grin broke at the corner of Tracy’s mouth. “I’ve seen you on a few tabloid magazines.”

JC chortled, her jade green eyes popped wide. “I know! How crazy is that?”

Catching sight of thirty or so tables covered in fine white linens and slipcovered chairs tied with black silk sashes on the dimly lit veranda, Tracy said, “Nothing seems crazy, anymore.”

Lisa and
Tess mingled beneath the heaters with a large group of partygoers. Tracy didn’t need to see their faces to know most of the guests were Italian. Men were dressed astutely in suits or stylish jackets paired with beige pants and women layered their chic fashions in colorful silk scarves and fine jewelry.

Tom announced,
“Look who I found wandering the halls?”

Tracy embraced
her mom, exchanging hellos, inhaling the familiar sweet scent of amber and sandalwood. “Hi Momma.”

Lisa cleared her throat. “
Ahem. I’ve been waiting for you to get here. And how come she gets a hug before me?”

“Well, she is my mother. Giving birth to me does give her the edge.” Tracy’s mouth lifted into a full smile.

Lisa Levi was the really cool aunt Tracy never had and she played the part to perfection. She had the beauty of an angel, the mouth of a truck driver and balls made of steel. She had immediately taken to Tom’s new family, their instant connection bonding them as if by blood. 

“Oh, that little thing.” Lisa scoffed,
rolling her eyes with playful penury.

“Ha!” Tess laughed. “She hates getting beat at anything…even childbearing.”

Tracy chimed in, pointing out the other hundred guests, “It’s not like you didn’t have anyone to keep you entertained until I showed up.”

“On that note, I’m out of here.”
Tom slipped his hand to the small of Tess’ back, pressing a kiss of affection to her neck. He lifted the bottle of wine. “I need to get this to Benny.”

Tracy’s face and tone fell flat. “What does that mean?”

“That means—“ Sweetness oozed from Lisa like sap from a maple tree on a warm day in Vermont. “—I’ve been waiting for you to get here.”

“Why?” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I want to
introduce you to a friend of mine. My neighbor.”

The slamming of her own heart took her by surprise. Secrets were impossible to keep in the Mathews Family, including the heartache she endured from one night of bad judgment in Greece.

“I have no interest in meeting your neighbor.” Tracy’s jaw clenched painfully. “Especially if he’s Italian.”

“Of course he’s Italian, we live in Italy. Calm down. I’m
not trying to set you up on a date.”

Tracy
dropped her gaze. The natural stone slabs beneath her feet, appearing weathered and aged under the amber glow of lanterns. Waiting for her pulse to settle, she wondered if she’d ever fully recover from the sense of loss she endured.

“
I’m hoping you might be able to help them. Give them a few business pointers.”

“
What kind of business pointers.” Tracy noticed a look of I told you so pass from her mom to Lisa. “Did you know about this?”

“Yes, I did
. As of yesterday afternoon. Although I love the idea, I suggested she give you a little more of a warning than three minutes.” A waiter approached with a silver tray topped with a variety of wine. “Maybe you should try the wine.”

“No thanks. You know I don’t really care for wine.”

“Shh!” Lisa hissed, eyes darting, circling the near vicinity to see if anyone overheard the remark. “Don’t say that out loud. Can you please merely humor your Aunt Lisa and taste the wine. White or red?”

“Definitely not red.”

The waiter poured each of them a glass of chardonnay. Lisa swirled
her glass and sniffed the clear gold liquid, encouraging Tracy to do the same.

Tracy mimicked her movements and sipped the wine.

Lisa hummed a sound of delight. “Can you taste the honeysuckle underscoring the apple and pear?”

“Not really.”

Lisa’s eyes rolled so far back in utter disbelief Tracy thought she might go into convulsions.

“I told you, I don’t drink wine. I
couldn’t tell you if this is a five dollar bottle of wine or a two hundred and fifty dollar bottle of wine.” She closed her eyes and tried again. “Hmm. I do taste a hint of pear and…a flowery flavor.”

“
Tuscany is home to some of the most notable wines. And this, in my opinion, is one of the best wines in the region.”

Holding the liquid in her mouth,
allowing it to warm, she identified an earthy essence. “I kind of, sort of, like it.”

Tess
showered her daughter with a warm smile. “Sweetheart, maybe you should ask Lisa where the wine comes from.”