Danielle Steel: Passion's Promise

“Kezia, I don’t think you should.”

“Why not?” She looked almost hurt.

“Drink what they serve you, that ought to be enough.” He wasn’t preaching, but he sounded very firm. The tone of his voice embarrassed her more than his words, and she put it away. When the drinks came around, she ordered one scotch, and turned down the second.

“Satisfied?”

“It’s not my life, sister. It’s yours.” He went back to his reading, and she to her own thoughts. He was an odd man at times. Independent, lost in his own doings, and then at other times he took such pains with her. She more than suspected that he was making the trip mostly for her, to be sure she would be all right, and he could have lost his job for that.

They had made reservations at the Ritz, and she felt a thrill of excitement ripple through her as they drove toward the city. The skyline began to show as they cleared the last bend, and then suddenly there it was. The new modern cathedral on Gough, the brown licorice silhouette of the Bank of America building, and the lick of fog rolling in from the bay. She realized now how she had longed to see it again. The bay, and the Golden Gate Bridge, with Sausalito and Belvedere and Tiburon twinkling like a forest of Christmas trees at night, if there wasn’t too much fog. And if there was, she would close her eyes, breathe deeply of the fresh sea air, and listen to the lonely bleating of the fog horns. She knew that when she heard them again, Lucas would be listening to them too.

Alejandro watched her as they drove, and it touched him to see her like that. Excited, tense, combing the city with her eyes as though looking for something precious she had left there.

“You love this town too, don’t you, Kezia?”

“Yes, I do.” She sat back and looked at it with pleasure, as though she had built it herself.

“Because Luke brought you here?”

“Partly. But it’s something else too. Just the town, I guess. It’s so damnably pretty.” He smiled and looked over at her.

“Damnably, huh?”

“Okay, okay, so make fun of me. All I know is that I’m happy here.” Despite the brutal things that had happened there, she loved it. It had something no other city she knew had. Her thoughts drifted back to Luke again, and she couldn’t suppress a smile. “You know, it’s incredible, I’ve come three thousand miles to see him for an hour.”

“And something tells me you’d have come six thousand miles if you’d had to.”

“Maybe even twelve.”

“Even twelve? Are you sure?” He was teasing again, and she liked it. He was an easy companion.

“Alejandro, you’re a pest. But a nice pest.”

“I love you too.”

It was one in the morning in San Francisco, and four in the morning for them, but neither of them was sleepy.

“Want to go out for a drink, Alejandro?”

“No, I’d rather go for a ride.”

“The temperance society at my beck and call. How delightful.” She set her mouth primly and he laughed. “Mind your own business. After we drop off the stuff at the hotel, let’s go down to the bay.” They had rented a car at the airport and Alejandro was driving.

“At your service, madam. Isn’t that what you’re used to?”

“Yes and no. But one thing’s for sure, I’m not used to remarkable friends like you. You really are amazing.” Her voice had grown very soft. “I don’t think anyone’s ever done as much for me as you have. Not even Edward. He used to watch over me, but we were never this at ease with each other. I love him, but very differently. He always expected so much of me.”

“Like what?”

“Oh … to be everything I was born to, and more, I suppose.”

“And you are.”

“No, not really. The computer must have blended it all differently in me. Some of the pieces don’t fit, by his standards.”

“You miss the point. It’s your head that matters, your soul, your heart.”

“No, love. You miss the point. It’s the parties you go to, the clothes you wear, which committees you belong to.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Not anymore. But I used to be.” She was suddenly serious, but the moment fled as they arrived at the Ritz. Ernestine, wearing a green plaid flannel bathrobe, checked them in, looking faintly disapproving to see Kezia with Alejandro, and not Luke. But their separate rooms at opposite ends of the hall seemed to appease her. She padded back to bed, and they went back outside to the car.

“To the bay!” He was as excited as she.

“Thank you, Jeeves.”

“Certainly, madam.” They giggled together, and let the car bump over the hills on Divisadero Street. It felt like a roller coaster as the sharp swoops and drops lifted them off the seat.

“Want to stop for a taco?”

She smiled in answer and nodded her head. “Me, I get turned on by the bay. You, it’s the tacos. Welcome home.”

“And not a pizza in sight.”

“Don’t they have pizza out here?”

He made a face in response. “Yes, but we keep them under control. Not like New York. One of these days, a mad onslaught of crazed pizzas will take over the town.” He made fierce monster faces and she laughed.

“You’re a nut. Good heavens, look at that car!” They rolled into a drive-in food place on Lombard, and waiting at the window was a hot rod with the back all jacked up. “You’d think they’d fall on their faces.”

“Of course not. What a beauty … vrooommm … rooom!” He made the appropriate sounds and grinned broadly. “Haven’t you ever seen one like that?”

“Not that I can remember—and I daresay I’d remember—except maybe in a movie. What a horror!”

“Horror? It’s a beauty! Wash your mouth out with soap!”

She was laughing and shaking her head. “Don’t tell me you had one like that! I’d be shocked!”

“Well, I did. A lowrider special. My first car. After that I screwed up my image and got a secondhand VW. Life was never the same.”

“It sounds tragic.”

“It was. Did you have a car as a kid?” She shook her head, and his eyes opened wide in disbelief. “You didn’t? Christ, all kids in California have cars by the time they’re sixteen. I bet you’re lying. I’ll bet you had a Rolls. Come on, tell the truth!” She giggled, furiously shaking her head, as they drove up to the window to order their tacos.

“I’ll have you know, Mr. Vidal, that I did not have a Rolls! I borrowed a crumbling old Fiat when I stayed in Paris, and that was it I’ve never owned a car in my life.”

“What a disgrace. But your family had one, right?” She nodded. “Aha! And it was …” He waited.

“Oh, just a car. You know, four wheels, four doors, steering column, the usual stuff.”

“You’re telling me it was a Rolls?”

“It was not.” She grinned at him broadly and handed him the tacos that had just appeared at the window. “It was a Bentley. But my aunt has a Rolls, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Much. Now hand over those tacos. You may have come three thousand miles to see your old man. I came for the tacos. A Bentley … Jesus.” He took a bite of his taco and sighed rapturously. Kezia leaned back in her seat and began to unwind. It was comfortable being with him; she didn’t have to pretend. She could just be herself.

“You know something funny, Alejandro?”

“Yeah. You.” He was into his third taco.

“No, I’m being serious.”

“Yeah? How comer”

“Oh for chrissake, put a taco in you and you get all full of yourself.”

“No, I get gas.”

“Alejandro!”

“Well, I do. Don’t you ever get gas? Or is that bred out of your?”

She blushed as she laughed. “I refuse to answer that question on the grounds that …”