Strangers in the Night by Heather Webb

Author:Heather Webb
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2022-12-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

Ava

Francis and I flew home to Los Angeles together when he had a break between his shows in New York. We were happy to spend some time in Palm Springs, soaking up the sun and sitting by the pool. But the peace between us didn’t last. Nancy wouldn’t budge on the divorce papers, though she’d told her lawyer she would sign them. Francis and I were both at our wits’ end waiting for her and got at each other’s throats. We were up and down, left and right, together and apart. I was fed up with the whole scene so I took a breather from the drama that inevitably played out between us: the arguing, the jealousy, the threats. I screened my calls for weeks until one night, I decided to answer. I was beginning to miss him too much, drama or no.

“Is it over?” I asked. “Has she filed the papers?”

“Listen to me, I’ve called her—”

“Are you getting divorced or not?” I demanded.

“I’m working on it—”

I cursed and slammed down the telephone. As I expected, Francis called right back and I let the telephone ring ten times, twenty times, thirty, until finally Reenie answered it to put us both out of our misery.

“Mr. Sinatra, Miss G doesn’t want to talk to you.”

I hovered nearby, waiting to hear what he had to say.

She covered the receiver with her hand. “He says he has a plan. He’s going to Tahoe and wants you to go with him. He’s going to force Nancy’s hand.”

He would live in Nevada until the six-week residency period passed and technically he could be divorced the following week. I’d done it myself when I’d divorced Artie.

I took the telephone and put it to my ear. “Francis,” I said simply.

“I’m going to Tahoe, baby,” he replied. I could hear the barely controlled desperation in his voice. “Come with me. Let’s put this to bed once and for all.”

I felt myself giving in, the longing to be with him returning with a vengeance. “I love you.”

“I love you like a man in the desert in need of water, Angel.”

“You always were a bit of a poet, weren’t you,” I said, laughing softly. “I guess that’s what makes you irresistible.”

“I’m glad you still see me that way.”

“Of course I do, baby. I’m just tired of playing second fiddle to that kept woman of yours.”

“I know,” he said. “But that’s done. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Alright,” I said. “I’ll see you in Tahoe.”

We met in Tahoe the next day.

It was far more beautiful than I’d remembered. The mild fall weather brought a sky painted in eggshell blue without a single whisp of clouds. Vast pine forests swept across the flat lowlands, hugged the slopes of the Sierra Nevada, and encircled the deepest lake imaginable in a thick green embrace. I’d heard rumors that bodies didn’t decompose in Lake Tahoe because the water was too cold. Of course Francis and I had to know the truth, so we hunted down some books. He read me snippets out loud as we lay on the couch together, our limbs entangled.

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