Without Pretense Read online

  Without Pretense

  The last thing world class violinist Ava Wellington wants is some nosy writer publishing her biography. Unfortunately, her manager is insistent this is the best way to capitalize on her fame. Ava is terrified someone might discover the secret she’s kept for nearly twenty years, one that could not only destroy her career, but ruin the lives of those she loves most.

  Journalist Bianca Vega has only just recovered from the loss of her wife and isn’t prepared to see Ava again, not after the deep connection she felt almost two years ago. When Bianca is hired to write Ava’s biography, they’re thrust together on a whirlwind music tour and neither can ignore the desire that’s simmered between them since that first chance meeting. Will Ava be able to trust Bianca with her darkest secret or will hiding her past destroy their chance at forever?

  Without Pretense

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  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  Without Pretense

  © 2019 By TJ Thomas. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13:978-1-63555-174-7

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, NY 12185

  First Edition: February 2019

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Cindy Cresap

  Production Design: Susan Ramundo

  Cover Design by Melody Pond

  By the Author

  A Reunion to Remember

  Dawn’s New Day

  Without Pretense

  Acknowledgments

  Tucked away in the Berkshire Hills of Western Massachusetts is Tanglewood, the summer home of the Boston Symphony Orchestra and one of my happy places. It is a haven away from the hustle and bustle of life. My wyf and I love to go to Tanglewood during the summer. Under a starry sky, and sometimes even the threat of rain, we stake a claim to a picnic-sized spot and listen to amazing music. During one of those summer evenings this story was born. As we lay on a blanket and enjoyed the sounds of a solo violinist, Elle said, “You should write a story about her.” For the rest of the performance, we went back and forth—me asking questions, Elle positing what might happen next. As we drove home, the questions continued and the beginning of the story was set.

  Not surprisingly, the story begins in Tanglewood. At the time, I did not know where else it would take us, but it turned out to be a fun ride. While writing this book, I fell a bit in love with both characters. Ava and Bianca are people I would want to know and count as friends. I hope you enjoy them as well. I am forever grateful to Tanglewood for both the inspiration and the memories we make there. If you’re ever in the area, I encourage you to visit. It is quite lovely.

  Most of my characters are influenced in some way by people I know. Their characteristics and tendencies grow out of small moments. In this case, Ava was influenced by our daughter, Kate, and my eldest sister, Anne. Anne is the happiest person I know. She takes nothing for granted and deeply appreciates every small act—as every person with Down’s syndrome I know does. Anne loves people, life, and food—oh, the food! She is easily excitable and pleased by the smallest things. We can all learn much from Anne; I know I have. Ava was modeled after her in those ways.

  From Kate, Ava inherited an intense interest in the physical world around her. One afternoon, on our way home from a daily excursion to the park, our progress was delayed by frequent stops for our granddaughter, Nourah, to experience the tactile world around her. We stopped to feel the petals of a flower, rub the bark of a tree, scratch the clay of a brick, and Nourah’s favorite, pet the long fur of a fluffy orange cat. I watched with amazement as Kate took the time and care to introduce Nourah to the world through touch, texture, and color. This exchange was amazing in its simplicity and the wonder and excitement it garnered from Nourah. It was astonishing for its innocence and it has remained with me.

  Many aspects of writing are solitary, but the process of getting a novel into the world and a reader’s hands takes a lot of people. I am thankful to all the folks at Bold Strokes Books who are a part of making this happen. I am consistently amazed by the work done by Sandra Lowe and Radclyffe. Their tireless work keeps quality novels in the works. Thank you to Melody Pond for the beautiful cover. To my editor, Cindy Cresap, who keeps the mistakes I make out of the final product. Thank you for making this a better book, again.

  Sharing your words can be difficult, especially before they are polished and refined. I am fortunate to have people I can trust with my works-in-progress. Many thanks go to Aurora Rey, Jackie Katz, and Maeve Howett. Your feedback, suggestions, and encouragement were invaluable.

  To my wyf, Elle, who inspired this story and once again read every version. Your input, support, and love…no thanks will ever be enough. After eleventeen years, I’m still trying to piece together how I’m lucky enough to have won your heart. I cherish it and you—forever and always. Our children are grown now and living their own lives. Our grandchildren are growing so fast it’s hard to keep up. All the moments and memories, no matter how long we’re together…it will never be enough.

  Finally, to you, the reader, thank you for choosing this book. Thank you for choosing romance. Without you, none of this would matter. Now, I leave you with this story.

  Dedication

  Elle,

  I love you way more than that.

  Prologue

  Ava Wellington stepped outside into the warm sunlight and took a deep, cleansing breath. She hated being cooped up. It was a necessary evil at times given the nature of her profession. Today, she had time before rehearsal. So she escaped to explore the grounds, as she did as often as possible. It was a gorgeous summer day, and she wanted to enjoy the nature that surrounded her professional home for the week. Rain or shine, she loved the fresh piney air and being surrounded by towering trees, fragrant flowers, and the immense natural beauty here.

  She pulled her hair into a loose ponytail, took off her sandals to feel the grass between her toes, and meandered toward her favorite spot on the grounds of Tanglewood. This little piece of heaven tucked away in the Berkshire Mountains of Western Massachusetts never failed to soothe her soul. Distracted by the majestic trees under the brilliant blue sky, she didn’t see the lone figure sitting on the bench she was heading for until she was nearly on top of her.

  She walked wide to cross her sightline so she didn’t startle her. She debated whether to approach the woman. She paused, transfixed by her beauty. With naturally bronzed smooth skin, high cheekbones, a small straight nose, and full lips, she was striking, and Ava was drawn to her. The sadness etched deep into her features caught Ava off guard. She stared intensely, unable to look away. The woman’s large, dark brown eyes appeared focused on something far in the distance. It tugged at Ava’s heart and compelled her forward.

  Settling onto the seat, Ava asked, “Are you okay?”

  The woman looked at the horizon. She didn’t respond. Ava didn’t know if she was being ignored or hadn’t been heard. She wondered if she should leave, but she couldn’t. She wanted to help. She laid her hand on the woman’s forearm. Ava didn’t attempt to console her. She simply took a soft han
dkerchief from her shorts pocket and gently laid it on the woman’s lap.

  The woman looked down and picked it up, and then she went back to staring into the distance. She began to cry. As tears streamed down her face, crying turned to sobbing. Her shoulders shook, and her body seemed to shrink. Despair poured from her, and Ava couldn’t do anything except sit with her. After her crying subsided, she mopped her face with the borrowed cloth and offered it back to Ava.

  Ava shook her head gently. “Keep it,” she said just above a whisper.

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you going to be okay?”

  “Probably. Eventually, but no time soon.”

  “I can be a good listener if you want to talk.”

  “My wife died four months ago in a plane crash.”

  “I cannot imagine how hard that must be.”

  “It’s devastating. I’m still struggling. I have no idea what I’m doing without her.”

  Ava ached for this woman’s loss. There had to be some way she could help. “Do you want to tell me about her?”

  “Karen was bold and brave, stubborn and ornery. She had a head for business that was inspirational. She was the youngest vice president ever at her company. Her sense of humor was sharp. She made me laugh all the time. She was also pregnant. We’d just found out the month before that we were going to have a little girl.” Her voice faltered and she shook her head ever so slightly as the tears began again. “I miss her so much.”

  Ava wrapped her arm around the grieving woman’s shoulders and pulled her close. She laid her head on Ava’s shoulder and the tears turned back to sobbing. Ava wished with all she was that the woman in her arms was not hurting. She wasn’t usually so comfortable with emotion, hers or anyone else’s, but this felt comfortable, helpful even.

  They sat in silence until the sobs subsided. Ava sat still, offering the only thing she could, comfort in the form of a gentle touch and company. Eventually, the woman caught her breath, but she didn’t move either. Ava knew rehearsal time was drawing near, and if Ava wasn’t there on time, someone would come looking for her. She cleared her throat softly. “I’m sorry, but I have to go soon. I have an appointment.”

  The woman raised her head and met Ava’s gaze. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her face was still damp with tears. She was breathtakingly beautiful. She wiped her face with the handkerchief and pulled away. She sat upright and regained control. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I certainly didn’t mean to keep you.”

  “Don’t apologize. I was exactly where I wanted to be,” Ava said.

  “You mean that, don’t you?”

  “I do.”

  “You may be the oddest woman I’ve ever met.”

  “I’ve been called worse.” Ava smiled.

  “Oh no, I didn’t mean that in a bad way. I’ve just never met anyone so willing to console a perfect stranger,” she said.

  “I’m not always so comfortable with people.”

  “You fooled me.”

  “It was easy with you.”

  “I’ve also never met anyone that carries a handkerchief.”

  “I always have at least one on me. I use them to clean my violin.”

  “Oh, you’re a musician.”

  “Yes, and unfortunately, I need to get to rehearsal.”

  “You should go.”

  Neither of them moved.

  “I’d much rather stay here and talk to you, but duty calls.” She held out her hand. “I’m Ava.”

  “Bianca,” she said, taking Ava’s hand gently. “Thank you for the ear and the shoulder. And the handkerchief.”

  “You’re welcome.” There was so much more Ava wanted to say, but nothing else seemed appropriate given all Bianca had shared and all she’d recently lost. Ava stood. “Will you be staying for the show this evening?”

  “Maybe. I was thinking about it. I’m not sure I’ll be up for it.”

  “I would love for you to come as my guest.”

  “Oh, no, I couldn’t do that. I’ve already kept you.”

  “How about this, I’ll leave a ticket at the box office for you. If you decide to come, great, if not, I understand.”

  “You don’t need to do that, really.”

  “I want to.” Ava took Bianca’s hand in hers. “Thank you for today.”

  Bianca cocked her head. “Why are you thanking me?”

  “You trusted me enough to tell me why you were sad even though you don’t know me.”

  “Maybe that’s why. It all spilled out of me.”

  “I hope to see you again, Bianca.”

  ***

  Bianca wandered around her living room. She was debating whether she should go to the show. Exhausted from crying when she returned home, she slept solidly for an hour. Now refreshed from a quick shower, she was agitated. As strange as the time she’d spent with Ava had been, she felt safe and comforted in her arms. The thought of drowning in her melancholy thoughts all evening was enough to compel her to pull on a summer dress and head back to Tanglewood.

  As she reached the ticket window, she looked hopelessly at the woman behind the glass. “Umm, I’m Bianca. Ava said she would leave a ticket for me.” She didn’t have Ava’s last name, and she hadn’t given Ava hers. With so little information, how would the ticket office be able to find the ticket? Never once did it occur to her that Ava may have forgotten to leave it for her. She had said she would and Bianca believed her.

  The woman smiled brightly. “Of course, we have it right here.”

  Bianca let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you very much.”

  “You’re welcome. Enjoy the show.”

  Bianca walked to the gate and handed her ticket to the man there. “Can you tell me how I get to my seat?”

  He glanced briefly at the ticket. “Head for the Shed and any usher will be able to direct you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Bianca had never sat inside the Shed for a show. She had wandered through it on occasion when she and Karen came to shows early, but they had always gotten lawn seats and sat in camp chairs under the stars. She had never been inside the open-sided, covered building that housed the stage where the musicians performed, when the stage was set. It was exciting. As she followed the usher closer and closer to the stage, she grew wary. He pointed to a seat in the center of the third row. “Are you sure that’s the right seat?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He handed her back her ticket. “See for yourself.”

  Bianca compared her ticket to the seat numbers. There was no denying it. She was getting emotional all over again and didn’t know why. She nodded to the usher. “Thank you.” She made her way to her seat and kept her tears in check. Who was Ava that she could so casually give away one of the best seats in the house?

  ***

  “Ava, darling, you need to sit still if you don’t want me to pull your hair out.”

  Ava sighed and tried to relax. “Sorry, Steven, it’s been a weird day.” She shifted in the chair.

  “Don’t worry, hon. A couple more hours and it’ll be over.”

  Ava grinned at Steven. Her hair and makeup artist was the closest thing she had to a best friend. “Thanks. I invited a woman to the show tonight and I’m anxious to see if she decided to come.”

  “Oh, hon, why didn’t you just say something? Let’s take a peek.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. There’s nothing here that won’t keep for two minutes. Come on.” He pulled her out of the chair and marched her down the hall to the stage door where she could peek through the window and see the audience gathering for the show.

  Ava felt a little rebellious, standing in her robe peering out at the crowd. She breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted Bianca in the audience. “She’s here,” she said quietly.

  Steven crowded her to see through the window. “Where?”

  “Third row, center.”

  “Ooh, the hot Latina?”

  “Her name is Bianca.”

&n
bsp; “She doesn’t look like your usual type.” Steven raised an eyebrow in question.

  Ava bristled. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Oh, hon, I didn’t mean anything. I was just giving you a hard time. I guess it’s your lucky night.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “Why ever not? As previously stated, she’s hot.”

  Ava sighed. She didn’t want to betray Bianca’s confidences. “It’s complicated. I met her this afternoon. It seemed like she needed a distraction so I invited her to the show.”

  “Okay.” Steven had known her for years and probably suspected there was more to the story, but he let it go. “Speaking of distractions, we need to finish getting you ready.”

  Ava glanced out at the audience, finding Bianca one last time, then she followed Steven back to her dressing room.

  ***

  Bianca looked everywhere at once trying to take it all in. As the musicians took their places, she tried to find Ava in the crowd. She didn’t see her, but all the women had their hair down and Ava’s had been up that afternoon. Maybe she had missed her. There were a couple of violinists she couldn’t see clearly. She had to be back there somewhere. Everyone was in black and white. The men wore tuxedos—black trousers and white jackets. The women seemed to take more liberty with their attire. All wore black slacks or skirts. But their white tops were a variety of blouses, tuxedo shirts, or light sweaters.

  Karen would have loved this. Bianca caught herself as the pain pierced her heart. She should probably leave. She had been wrong thinking she could be around people tonight. She had been so distracted by everything on stage, the seats around her had filled without her being aware. In the next moment, the music started. She didn’t want to interrupt the orchestra or the audience. She took a few deeps breaths and reined in the pain and brought it to a manageable level. After a while, she stopped thinking about Karen. She stopped looking for Ava. She immersed herself in the rich, beautiful music and stopped thinking altogether.