Beach Roses (Martha's Vineyard, Band 7) - Softcover

Buch 7 von 7: Martha's Vineyard

Stone, Jean

 
9780553584127: Beach Roses (Martha's Vineyard, Band 7)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 055358412X ISBN 13: 9780553584127
Verlag: Bantam, 2003

Inhaltsangabe

Miracles happen where you least expect them.

No one captures the tides of a woman’s heart quite like Jean Stone. Set on New England’s celebrated Martha’s Vineyard, this novel brings together three courageous women whose struggles reveal startling truths and ultimately change their lives.
 
The women begin as strangers: Rita has a past that cannot stay hidden for long; Katie, the vibrant rock star, must choose between saving her own life and the life of her unborn child; Hannah, a selfless housewife, finds herself abandoned by her friends just when she needs them most; and Faye, the wealthy executive, thinks she’s already survived the greatest fight of her life. Before the summer ends, these women will form a lasting bond—in a season when old hurts are finally healed, love is rekindled, and life begins anew.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Jean Stone is the bestselling author of many novels, including Places by the Sea, Once Upon a Bride, Twice Upon a Wedding, Three Times a Charm, and Four Steps to the Altar. She ran her own award-winning advertising agency for fifteen years before becoming a full-time writer.

Aus dem Klappentext

res the tides of a woman s heart quite like Jean Stone in her highly acclaimed novels set on New England s celebrated island Martha s Vineyard. This new novel brings together brash red-head Rita Blair-Rollins with three courageous women whose struggles ultimately change her life and reveal startling truths about the people and places she only thought she knew.

Beach Roses

The women begin as strangers: Katie, the vibrant rock star who must choose between saving her own life and the life of her unborn child; Hannah, the selfless housewife who finds herself abandoned by her friends just when she needs them most; Faye, the wealthy executive who thought she d already survived the greatest fight of her life...and Rita, whose own past cannot stay hidden for long.

Before the summer ends, these women will form a lasting bond. It will be a season when old hurts are finally healed and love becomes rekindled as life begins anew.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

ONE

JANUARY--THREE MONTHS EARLIER

"Katie-Kate, we did it! We locked up Central Park!" Cliff Gillette tossed down the phone and whooped toward the tall, tinted window that overlooked the wide expanse of lawn where he'd been trying to book his daughter for-fucking-ever--his favorite made-up word, not hers. "July Fourth! Finally, we did it!"

Katie gulped. No. Not July Fourth. Not this July Fourth. Her heart began to race. "Oh, Daddy!" she cried as her thoughts scrambled for an excuse. Her father, of course, did not know the concert was impossible. He did not know because Katie had not, would not, could not have told him why.

"Oh, Daddy," she repeated, because she didn't know how to just say "no."

He turned to her and held out his arms. "Surprise," he said.

Surprise. An understatement.

She gulped again and smiled her best fake smile. Then she moved across the penthouse floor and wrapped herself around the gray-haired, gray-eyed man. Beneath her hands she felt the bony angles of the once-muscled, sturdy body that now was thin and gaunt. Too many nights spent on the road, too much stress of being both Katie's father and her manager, the man solely responsible for their fortune and her fame.

She'd need a good excuse, one that would sound plausible. She pulled back from her father and moved her eyes from him. "But what about Katie, Live!?" she asked. Katie, Live! was her next CD, scheduled for a fall release. The sound tracks would be cut from her six-week, fifteen-city tour, the tour that would begin next week, despite the tiny, nubby knots now forming in her stomach. She hated lying to her father who had sacrificed so much. "Let's put off Central Park until Labor Day. It will make CD sales stronger. Besides," she added as a hurried afterthought, "it's almost February. July's too soon to plan such an important concert."

He paused as if considering her suggestion. She turned and looked back at him. She hardly dared to breathe.

"Central Park, Daddy," she said, her words smothered with her guilt. "This is our dream!" She did not say that it was more his dream than hers. She pretended to remove a piece of lint from the shoulder of his black T-shirt. Black had been Cliff's uniform for as long as Katie could remember. Always black, from hat to boot, in summer and winter, day and night. At the Grammys' last year, his black suede sports coat made him look Hollywood as he crossed the stage with Katie to help accept her five awards.

Five Grammys.

Because of him.

Katie sighed. "You've waited a long time for this, Daddy."

There was no need to mention the other concert in the park, when Katie's mother, the great Joleen, the undisputed rock-'n'-roll queen of the seventies and eighties, the first star Cliff had created, packaged, and sold to the public, had bailed out on her fans and simply not showed up.

He moved to the window and looked out at the Great Lawn where Joleen's concert should have been: the great, rolling stretch of land now reserved only for the philharmonic and the opera. Recent restoration to the grounds had cost a New York fortune, and park officials no longer allowed destructive rock-star fans. Katie would perform, instead, in the East Meadow at Ninety-seventh and Fifth. It was a few blocks farther north, but still in Central Park.

For several moments, Cliff said nothing. Katie stood silent, hating her deceit, yet unable to confess. She could not, would not, hurt him. It was a pledge she'd made on that late spring day when her mother had gone away, when Katie witnessed Cliff Gillette crumble from a tower of confidence to a heap of nothing that cried for weeks, then days, then not at all, which somehow had seemed worse.

She could not, would not hurt him. Yet now . . .

"Labor Day?" he asked.

"It's perfect for the park," she whispered. "So many people are back in the city; kids are getting ready for school . . ."

"It can get cold," he said.

"Or warm. Summer's last hurrah." She flinched. It was what they used to say about September, the weeks they'd loved to spend out on Martha's Vineyard, the welcome gap between Joleen's summer concerts and the holiday shows, the time they'd be together, just the three of them.

If Cliff made the connection, he didn't say. Instead, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and turned back to Katie. "It's taken years to get the park again. If I start asking favors . . . well, it's not a good idea. We can mix the CD off the first few roadshows. Then I'll push the studio for a July Fourth release. You're a star, Katie-Kate. But even stars have to know when to push and when to compromise for the sake of the big picture."

He walked away from the window and toward the closet in the foyer, where he took out his heavy black wool jacket. Then he left the apartment for a place unknown to her. He often did that without explanation, and Katie did not ask because she was his daughter not his keeper.

She touched her stomach and gently rubbed the knots, dreading what he'd say when he learned about the baby that would ruin all his plans.

Even in baggy sweats, a parka, and a blonde ponytail wig that stuck out from the back of a New York Mets baseball cap, Katie felt exposed to the public and the media when she left the apartment. But she needed to see Miguel, and outdoors seemed oddly more private.

Brady, naturally, followed closely behind, because Brady was well-paid to keep his six-foot-six-inch, bodyguard-body behind her at all times. His sharp eyesight and quick instincts compensated for the fact that he'd lost most of his hearing from too many venues where the decibels exceeded those allowed under the law. Loyal, quiet, and kind, he tailed her like a bad but dependable detective whom time had proved would not run back to her father and report the where-she-went's and what-was-said's when she was with Miguel.

"I have to tell my father," Katie said now to Miguel. Her words danced on little clouds of crisp, cold, winter breath. "I must tell him today." They strolled along museum mile, past the Met and into the park, a seemingly ordinary couple on an ordinary day.

"You can't," Miguel replied. They rounded the curve and headed toward the reservoir. "Not yet."

They had talked about it countless times: about their baby that was due at the end of June, about how Katie would be nearly six months pregnant once the tour was over, and, by that time, the world would see the situation for itself. The world, including Cliff.

Then it would be too late to make "other arrangements."

"He booked Central Park for July Fourth," she said. "How can I do Central Park if the baby's just been born?"

Miguel stopped. Brady almost slammed into his back. "O Dios m'o," Miguel said, then his voice dropped. "I didn't think he'd get the Fourth."

Katie blinked. "You knew that he was trying?"

"Well, yes."

"And you didn't stop him?"

"What could I have said? Should I have told the truth?"

Brady stepped away, as if wanting no involvement in a quarrel.

"Maybe the baby will come early," Miguel said, then added, "can't they make that happen?"

"Miguel, this is a baby. Our baby."

"And this," he said, with a flourish of his hand, "is Central Park. A million singers would give anything for this."

Heat rose in her cheeks. "I'm not a million singers!" she shrieked, then turned from him and ran up the incline toward the...

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Verlag
Bantam
Erscheinungsdatum
2003
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
055358412X
ISBN 13 
9780553584127
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
336
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
Nicht verfügbar

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