Identity of the Heart (A Hidden Hearts Novel Book 1) Page 13

  Marcus and my dad could have some pretty spirited discussions about baseball and the politics around the inclusion of players into the Baseball Hall of Fame. It would be an interesting meeting to say the very least. I can’t shake the feeling that it could grow into an amazingly supportive relationship for everyone involved.

  As Marcus sings the lyrics of the John Mayer song about finding someone you least expect when you’re not really looking, the lyrics really hit home for me. In fact, it’s appropriate in more ways than I can even imagine. I set out with the hypothesis that someone was playing a cruel, extended prank or scam on me only to find a sister I never knew I had and a phenomenal boyfriend that seems almost too good to be true. Even the experiences that I’m finding annoying as part of the process are things that can be addressed and changed.

  I have to stop singing and swallow hard to collect my emotions as the song draws near an end. I know it’s far too early for us to be even almost considering tossing the L word around, but it’s mentioned repeatedly in the song. It’s a stark reminder that our personal lives are not the same as what we often hear sung about in songs or read about books. We’re just not there yet. There’s no guarantee that we’re going to even make it that far.

  Marcus finally steps out of his karaoke stage persona long enough to study the expression on my face. He turns to the crowd and comments, “I guess I've learned something today. A random song choice can say everything you’d like to say, but the timing can be all sorts of wrong. So, I hope I didn’t scare this one away by inviting her out for karaoke tonight because I really hope she decides to stick around.”

  A woman from the audience yells, “Honey, you should give him another chance. It wasn’t his fault that the karaoke machine chose that song.”

  I turn to answer the woman, “I think he worries a little bit too much. He would be shocked if he knew what I was actually thinking. I was wishing that we had been dating a little more steadily. I have a long list of songs with lyrics that I love. But, they don’t seem appropriate given the fact that we’ve just officially started dating.” I blurt. However, as soon as I let all that information come flying out of my mouth, I’m immediately embarrassed. This is not the time or place for me to have a public airing of all my deepest dirty laundry.

  I thought that I was pretty circumspect about all my somewhat-dirty-leaning thoughts. However, it quickly becomes apparent that maybe I haven’t been when I hear a thought from Rogue intrude my thought process as clearly as if she’s standing right next to me, “Careful, it is surprisingly easy to embarrass Marcus. He’s more fragile than he looks.”

  Immediately I gaze out into the audience to see if I can find what has become my own personal Jiminy Cricket. Rogue winks at me when she catches my eye. Marcus grabs my hand so that we can give a theatrical bow. Fortunately, I’m getting used to the weird twin phenomenon with Rogue, so I’m not completely thrown off balance. Hopefully, nobody noticed the really strange lapse in concentration this time.

  Marcus doesn’t let my hand go after the bow and we walk hand in hand back to the table. When we get there, Tristan is already paying the tab and comments, “Hope you guys don’t mind, but I think Rogue has had enough for the day. While we were out on our walk, we reserved a couple of hotel rooms up the street.”

  “Well, this isn’t awkward at all…” Marcus says, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “Come on Ivy, it’s time for us to go freshen up,” Rogue declares, pulling me in the direction of the bathroom.

  “I don’t really ne—” I start to protest.

  “I’m pretty sure that’s not what she means,” Tristan explains with a chuckle.

  “Oh,” I mumble, embarrassed to be so slow on the uptake. I can’t even blame it on the beer. By the time I finished giving samples to Marcus and Rogue, there wasn’t even enough left to develop a good buzz.

  Therefore, I dutifully follow my sister into the bathroom. She takes a paper towel and dries off the sink before she hops up on the counter and sits down. “So, Manita, how do we want to handle this?”

  Okay. Nothing like getting right to the crux of the matter. I can’t help but feel like this is some sort of test. I’m totally clueless about how I’m supposed to answer the question. If I’m honest and tell her that I’m right in the middle of a pretty dicey conversation with Marcus, she might take it to mean that I don’t want to spend time with her. Yet, that’s not exactly true. I’m just not sure which one I should choose.

  Rogue examines me with an amused twinkle in her eye. “You know, if you think much harder about this, little blue trails of smoke are going to start to come out of your ears.”

  I glance up startled that she was able to read my thought process so easily. But then again, I guess I shouldn’t be. She seems to know my thoughts before I actually think them. “I’m sorry, I’m just trying to figure out the right thing to do without offending anybody.”

  “Well, if the guys are offended if we choose to spend time together after just being reunited, they need to get over themselves and if you’re worried about offending me, don’t worry about it.”

  “Really? You wouldn’t be upset if I spent the night with Marcus? It seems like we’re at a kind of critical point in our relationship. I’d just like to figure out where we’re going with things.”

  “It’s not a problem. Really. Did you honestly think I’d have a problem with being spoiled all night by a guy who, by all appearances, seems to worship the ground I walk on. I actually think I’m okay with that. Go have fun with Marcus. Be gentle with him, though. He likes to act all street-tough, but he’s got a really tender heart. Most people don’t even realize he’s one of the good guys.”

  After Rogue hops down from the counter, I give her brief hug as I promise, “I’ll try to take good care of him. Best friends are hard to find. We’ll see you in the morning for breakfast.”

  As we walk hand and hand back into the restaurant, there are four very curious, intent eyes on us. Marcus nudges Tristan. “Uh-oh, they’re holding hands. This doesn’t look good for us buddy. A marathon of WWE pay-per-view, it is, roomie.”

  Tristan quietly studies us for a moment before he declares, “No, I think you’ve jumped to the wrong conclusion. I suspect you and I will be parting ways tonight. I believe that I’ll be tucking Rogue in tonight.”

  My mouth drops open in shock. “That’s impressive. I have no idea how you did that, but you busted us.”

  “I hate to break it to you, but you’re not all that difficult to read. You either put on ten times more blush than you usually use or you are embarrassed and you can’t look Marcus directly in the eye. So, something is up. Given the topic of discussion on the table, it isn’t hard to put two and two together.”

  “Well, I guess it’s a good thing that I don’t have any career aspirations to be a spy or anything, isn’t it?”

  Tristan just nods solemnly as he says, “Yes, the world is probably a safer place.”

  Rogue playfully punches him on the arm as she proclaims, “You didn’t have to agree with her. She was just making a rhetorical statement to illustrate her point. You didn’t have to rub it in.”

  “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be rude. I was just agreeing with what seemed like an obvious statement. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  I have to laugh at his obvious contriteness. It’s clear that he really wasn’t trying to be rude and I really wouldn’t make very a good spy. Still, it’s really nice to have someone come instantly to my defense. I really wish she’d been around when I was growing up and the bullies were picking on me at school. It would’ve been downright handy to have another person on my side. Especially someone as spunky as Rogue.

  “It’s all right. I fully accept where my strengths and weaknesses are. They’re not a newsflash to me.”

  Marcus fidgets a bit before he finally blurts, “Well, are we going to get this show on the road, or what? I suppose Super-Secret-Spy-Guy stays in a much higher class hotel than I’m used to. I b
et you don’t have to pay an additional deposit for extra blankets and pillows and you probably can’t see through the towels either.”

  “I should hope not. If we can, we need to get our money back and stay somewhere else.”

  “Since I’m designated driver tonight, I’ll drive your rig over. Text me the name of this swanky palace, okay?”

  “Sure, let me give Ivy her key. Everyone’s already signed in. So, we’ll see you at breakfast.” Tristan fishes a key out of his jacket pocket and hands it to me. My eyes widen as I see the name on the key. I’m used to pretty nice travel. Still, I’m not used to the kind of places they feature in travel magazines. This is that kind of place. My fingers are going to be itching for my Leica M7. People think I’m weird for not making the jump to digital. But, I like the old-fashioned process of developing my own film. But, sadly all I have with me is my cell phone. The camera is decent, but it’s just not the same. I do have my pad and colored pencils. So, that’s something at least.

  “Sounds good, see you mañana,” Marcus quips as he ushers me out the door. Perhaps I should be worried by the predatory expression on his face, but I have a feeling that I can give as good as I can get. He just thinks I’m the uptight shy one. I can be fun and spontaneous—I hope. Okay…I admit, this is way outside my comfort zone. But, I started this whole adventure because I wanted to do something different, give myself permission to be someone different. This certainly fits the bill. So, I take a deep breath and smile as I tuck my hand into Marcus’s back pocket while we stroll down the sidewalk toward Tristan’s SUV.

  After he unlocks the door, he traps me against the seat. He runs the back of his hand along my cheek, “You are just so damn beautiful. It takes my breath away.”

  Something about his compliment strikes me as funny. “Yeah, I look like the spitting image of Rogue. Funny how that works when you’re twins,” I respond sarcastically.

  “At first, I thought I was going to notice mostly the similarities. But, the longer I hang around the two of you, the less I remember the twin thing—unless you guys have one of your twilight zone episodes. It’s really not that big of a deal to me.”

  I feel like he has knocked all the air from my lungs. “Not important! How in the world can you say that? Being a twin has the potential to change my whole world—-maybe destroy it as I know it. How can you say it’s not a big deal?” I ask, my voice beginning to sound hysterical.

  Marcus cups my face in his hands as he kisses me gently on the lips, “Ivy, relax, Sugar. I didn’t mean to suggest that the mistakes shouldn’t matter to you. They really should, all the way down the line. Everybody who lied should be held accountable for their actions, because that’s just wrong. You didn’t choose to be adopted just like Rogue didn’t choose to have the survivor’s guilt over being the one left behind. The whole situation is just messed up.”

  I sniff back my tears and try to wipe them on the sleeve of the sweatshirt so that Marcus doesn’t realize what a mess I’ve become. “It really is a tangled ball of ugliness, isn’t it? Do you think we’ll ever get to the bottom of all of it?”

  Marcus shrugs and pushes his Ray-Ban sunglasses up to the top of his head. "I don’t know."

  “Why are you wearing sunglasses anyway? It’s November.”

  He shrugs. “Habit I guess. I started wearing them when I was a kid, so the thugs I was hanging out with couldn’t tell that I was way younger than Tomás. I just wanted to fit in. I suppose not much has changed over the years.”

  I reach up and pull them completely off his head and throw the sunglasses behind me on the console. “That’s really too bad because you shouldn’t hide these gorgeous eyes from anyone,” I murmur as I run my fingertip along his brow line. I cringe when I encounter a barbell in his eyebrow.

  “Didn’t it hurt? I know that I’m a big baby when it comes to my eyes. I have to psych myself up just to pluck my brows.”

  “It didn’t hurt as much as some. But, it hurt more than some others. Let’s put it this way. It’s not something I’d want to have done every day. But, that’s pretty much true of all my piercings. I’d much rather get a tattoo any day.”

  “If they hurt so much though, why get them done at all?” I ask, confusion ringing clear in my voice.

  Marcus drops his hands to my waist. He’s massaging the small of my back as he answers my somewhat random questions. “I don’t know, Ivy. It’s difficult to answer because it’s different for every person. But, I think most people find tattoos a little addicting. For some it’s the whole concept of having your entire body as a canvas. For others it’s actually the repetitive sting of the needle; still others are attracted to the counter culture aspect of it all. I guess it’s really an individual thing and different for everyone.”

  “Why does it hold such allure for you?” I ask pointing to the big bandage on his arm from this morning.

  “For all the reasons I spelled out and a couple more I don’t know you well enough to share yet.”

  I nod as I reply, “Fair enough. But, I hope you think I know you well enough to do this—”

  I pull him closer and kiss him. At first, I’m tentative. But, as he responds, tightening his arms and drawing in a harsh breath, I kiss him more assertively, running my tongue across his lips to gain entry. For a minute or two, we exchange progressively spicier kisses until he pulls away.

  “I need to take a breather and remember that we’re in a strange city. We don’t need to be arrested for public indecency. Lucky for you, your sister has arranged a place for us to take this someplace private. Are you still game?”

  After the hottest few minutes I can ever remember enjoying in my life, I can only come up with one plausible response, “You bet.”

  AS WE ENTER THE LOBBY OF the hotel and encounter a floor-to-ceiling waterfall with a built-in aviary I lose my battle not to gawk like a curious seven-year-old. However, as I glance over at Ivy, I realize I’m not the only one dazzled by our surroundings. She has her cell phone out and she’s kneeling on one knee like a professional photographer as she tries to capture a particularly colorful macaw.

  I run my hand along the rich burl wood railing as I comment, “So, this is how the other half lives, huh?”

  She stands up and walks in a slow circle taking in her surroundings as she replies, “Don’t look at me. I’m not in the half that lives like this. This is definitely a first for me.”

  “Come on, let’s go to our room. If the lobby looks like this, can you imagine what our room looks like?” I ask practically bouncing with excitement.

  “Well, this is certainly not the Super 8,” she comments dryly.

  “I know. Isn’t it great? It does not suck to have friends that have money and aren’t afraid to spend it.”

  Ivy starts to bite her lip with indecision, but finally she speaks, “Umm, you can tell me to shut up if this isn’t any of my business—”

  I have to fight my natural tendency to do something to radically break the mood. So, I smother a grin and encourage her to continue. “Go ahead. I don’t have very strong privacy filters in my life.”

  “I know,” she grins. “That’s true. I’ve seen you’re Facebook page. I guess I’m just confused. It looks like your shop is doing really well. Everything looks top-notch and modern. Are things not going okay?”’

  Her concern is very touching. So, I hasten to assure her, “No, you’re right. My shop is actually doing just fine. I just have other obligations to my family and the causes I support like Big Brother/Big Sister and Habitat for Humanity that I dedicate most of my paycheck to. So, I choose not to live very large. Rogue teases me all the time about my decision to live in accommodations which are barely tolerable for a homeless person.”

  “Is it really that bad?”

  “No, not really. I’m kind of taking artistic license in my description. By Florida standards, it’s pretty low end considering that I don’t have any kids. It’s not what you would classify as a swanky bachelor pad, that’s for sure.”


  “Well, I can think of a lot of worse reasons to live in a junkie place. I think it’s cool that you’re taking care of other people. I wish there were more people in the world like you,” she says as she grabs my hand and pulls me toward the elevator. “Come on. Let’s go see what pure decadence feels like. I have a feeling Tristan was feeling the need to show off a little for Rogue and we may have been the unintended beneficiaries.”

  I wink at her as I give her a mock salute. “Here’s to the accidental perks of double dating. May your sister’s relationship with Super-Secret-Spy-Guy live long and prosper.”

  She playfully swats me on the butt as she exclaims, “You are so bad! That’s your best friend you’re talking about. You cannot give my sister dating advice based on the quality of perks you’re going to get from her boyfriend! That’s just wrong.”

  I draw my brows together for a moment as I think about that. “You know, come to think of it, it has been a really bad strategy. Lawrence Poser had his own nightclubs, but he was a terrible boyfriend. Then there was that Henry guy; He had court-side seats to the Miami Heat and ran a fantasy basketball league. There was only one problem. He carried an iPad everywhere he went and never put it down. You could be having a conversation with him and his eyes never left the screen. It was totally annoying. Rogue never said anything but I don’t believe she even had the opportunity to kiss him because I don’t think he ever got the iPad out of his face.”

  Ivy giggles. “You’re beginning to see why sites like BrainsRSexy.com exist. It's a strange and scary world of dating out there. What about you? Have you been dating?”