Authors: Victoria Paige
“Don’t mind him, he’s just a cantankerous old man,” Nate chuckled.
“I heard that,” Porter called from behind the SUV. The admiral lifted the gate and started hauling some suitcases down. Nate was about to walk over to help him when Sylvie’s mom quipped, “Or he just needs to get laid.”
“Mom,” Sylvie cried in mortification. “I can’t believe you said that.”
Nate shook his head in amusement as their whispering faded into the house. His good humor vanished when he took in the contents of the Suburban.
“What the fuck?”
The number of suitcases was as expected, but there were boxes and boxes of kitchen stuff.
“Did she pack her entire kitchen?” Nate asked, staring at the handles of pots and skillets sticking out from open containers.
“My thoughts exactly,” Porter said dryly.
“Didn’t you tell her I had a fully equipped kitchen?”
“He did,” Sam piped in. “But uh, Mrs. Buchanan was very insistent.”
“Those will have to go to the guesthouse anyway.” Nate hated clutter. He didn’t want the countertop covered with appliances, cooking pots, and utensils.
“So you’re putting them in the pool house?” the admiral asked.
“Guesthouse,” he repeated with slight irritation. The admiral did seem to be in an ornery mood. “Sam, bring in those bags of groceries first. The last thing we want is for the perishables to spoil after all the trouble Nana went through for them.”
“That probably won’t go over well if that happened,” Porter snorted.
The admiral was about to heft two suitcases when Nate held him back. “Hey, thanks for picking them up.”
“No problem. It was, ah, interesting.”
“You don’t need to hang around after we unload from your SUV. You’ve done more than enough.”
“Trying to get rid of me, Nate?”
“You’re welcome to stay, but I thought you couldn’t wait to get away,” he stated carefully. “After all, didn’t you say the women were driving you insane?”
“I didn’t say it was bad, especially if it’s a woman driving you insane.” With an enigmatic smile, the admiral headed to the house.
Nate didn’t trust that smile. What the hell was the admiral up to?
*****
“You’ve screwed it wrong.”
“No, I haven’t. I’m good at screwing.”
“It’s crooked. You need to do it again.”
A sigh and then, “I’ll pull it out. If you hold those legs open, I’ll screw it again. Okay?”
The admiral and her mother were setting up the art easel by the window of the guesthouse. Custom-made out of cherry wood, it had to be disassembled to fit in the Suburban’s cargo area.
“That conversation is so wrong on so many levels,” Sylvie whispered to Nate who was helping her unpack the kitchen items into the cabinets. He didn’t say anything, but the corners of his lips were twitching.
“It’s not funny,” she mumbled through the corner of her mouth.
“Not touching that one.”
“Tell me he isn’t flirting with my mom.” She scrunched her nose. “Actually, it sounds more like a proposition.” She looked on with mortification when her mom play-punched the admiral on the shoulder and emitted a husky laugh. “Oh, my God, my mom’s giggling like a teenager.”
Nate’s hand cupped her jaw and turned her head to face him. “Focus here, Sylvs. Leave them alone.”
She glared at him, but didn’t say anything. Instead, she concentrated on unwrapping the fragile glassware.
Oh, Lord. How much stuff did Nana and Mom pack?
Since there was no way her mother could do her glass blowing on Nate’s premises, she decided to paint. Her mom was very artistic. Sylvie had not inherited that talent, but had taken more after Nana’s love for cooking. She eyed the other boxes where she spied the slow cooker and canning pot. Looked like her grandma had no plans of remaining idle.
The guesthouse had two bedrooms, an eat-in kitchen, a living room, and a utility room. It was also surprisingly well-furnished. “Do you have guests often?”
Nate looked away from her. “Uh, yeah.”
“Orgies?” Sylvie asked before she could stop herself. Why was she trying to torture herself? The air between them changed drastically. Nate didn’t like her comment at all. In fact, he looked downright furious.
“Are you ever,” he pushed through gritted teeth, “going to see me as someone you can have a serious relationship with? Because I’m fucking tired of getting labeled as a man whore who isn’t capable of thinking past his dick.”
That was the last thought on her mind, and it was his choice of girlfriends who couldn’t see past Nate’s worth beyond his money and looks. Before she could answer him, Nana swept into the guesthouse with a tray of cookies and a pitcher of iced tea.
“Thanks for letting me use the oven at your house, Nathan,” Nana gushed. “I just wanted to bake Sylvie’s favorite chocolate chip cookies.” She glared at the admiral. “Mr. Porter didn’t give us time to prepare.”
“There’s a reason for the rush, Agnes. The objective was to get you and Pru to D.C. as quickly as possible,” Nate said diplomatically.
“I understand,” Nana sniffed. “I didn’t even get you anything. I never show up empty-handed at someone’s house.”
“It’s not a housewarming party,” Porter grunted.
“Admiral,” Nate admonished quietly.
Nana looked at the admiral and Sylvie’s mom suspiciously. Her mother, thankfully, moved away from the admiral and got some glasses for the iced tea. Sylvie wasn’t sure why she minded. Maybe she was just protective of her mother and the admiral gave off dangerous vibes. She could see why Mom would be drawn to him despite his gruff behavior. He wasn’t very tall, maybe five ten, but appeared very fit, and even if he looked to be her mom’s age, he was probably older. A Silver Fox as her mom would call attractive men in their fifties who had a head of salt and pepper hair.
“Now that we have some snacks,” Nana said, her demeanor changing from congenial old lady to stern family matriarch. “You can tell me what’s going on.” Sylvie was familiar with Nana’s determined tone. It was one she used when she knew she was being kept in the dark about something and had grown weary to be told the truth. Her grandma was no clueless woman. People underestimated her shrewdness all the time, but she had a big heart and was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt.
“Have a seat, Nana,” Sylvie said, striding out of the kitchen and into the breakfast nook where she exchanged an anxious glance with her mother. She had made up her mind to come clean, but realized how difficult it was to start from the beginning. Neither her mom nor Nana knew what happened to the restaurant yet.
Oh, God, how am I going to tell them?
Nana sat and covered Sylvie’s hand with her own. “Is this about my liver treatment, child? Is this why you’re in trouble?”
The perfect opening. And the words just poured from her mouth. She told Nana about her father’s offer. How she used her shipments to smuggle GDE pills from Japan. How Hiroshi Mori kept tabs on her and wanted to marry her. How the DEA was on to her. How Nate intervened and put an end to her short stint as a smuggler. All through her litany of confessions, the look of horror on her Nana’s face sliced through her heart.
“You smuggled drugs?” her grandma choked.
“Nana, they’re not exactly drugs; they’re supplements—”
“If they’re from your father, they couldn’t be legal,” Nana snapped. “How can you sacrifice your integrity—?”
That did it. Hot tears streaked down Sylvie’s cheeks. “My integrity is nothing if it means I can save your life!”
“No, child. Integrity is everything,” Nana said sadly. She looked at Pru. “Did you know she was doing this?”
Her mother nodded.
“And you didn’t stop her?”
“I cautioned her, but it’s her decision, Ma.”
That statement set Nana off. “For heaven’s sake, Prudence! When will you ever take responsibility for your daughter?”
“She’s thirty years old, Ma. I can hardly dictate her life to her.”
“A mother’s work is never done.”
“Nana—” Sylvie did not want the blame to fall on her mother. It had been solely her decision.
A cutting glare, one she had never seen on her Nana’s face before, silenced her. Nate’s hands grasped her shoulders, but Sylvie was too distraught to feel even a smidgen of comfort. She had to make this right.
“And I’m not talking about just now,” Nana said, still addressing her mom. “You took her from her father, and for that I am grateful, but what did you do, Prudence? You left your child to go gallivanting around the world. You continued your nomadic existence so you could
find yourself
when you had a child struggling without both parents.”
“I know! And I regret that,” Mom said tremulously. “It was selfish of me, but you said you could handle it, that I should go.”
“Ah, Prudence. How could I force you to stay?” Nana said softly. “The last thing I wanted to happen was for you to resent your own child.”
Sylvie’s breath caught, her heart breaking even as she asked, “You didn’t want me, Mom?”
“Of course I wanted you! I love you so much.” Her mother’s beautiful face cracked in anguish. “But I was confused with who I wanted to be. Your father tried to control me, and I just wanted to break free.”
“And I’m a reminder of him, your albatross,” Sylvie whispered. Nate’s fingers gave her a squeeze. She leaned into him, thankful for his support.
“No. Oh, God, no, sweetie,” Mom replied gently. Pru cast Nana a look of disgust. “Look what you had to stir up, Ma.”
Her grandma looked contrite, but she still had a lot to say. “You should have cut off all ties with her father.”
“You’re not naive enough to think that is possible?” Mom scoffed. “Her father arranged for her apprenticeship in Japan at impeccable establishments. He helped her realized her dream to open a restaurant.”
“About the restaurant. . .” Sylvie exhaled heavily.
Both women tensed at her weary tone.
“There was an explosion yesterday—”
“What?”
“Oh, my God!”
A chair scraped back as Nana stood, worry etched all over her face. “Are you okay?” She tentatively touched the butterfly bandage on her forehead. “This was not a bump on a shelf, was it?”
Sylvie shook her head. “There was some damage, so the restaurant is closed right now.”
“Is your father involved? It wasn’t an accident?”
No more lying. “It had something to do with Dad, but I’m not exactly sure what is going on.”
“You could have died,” Nana’s face crumpled as a sob caught in her throat. Her grandma whirled on Pru, who was still standing in stunned silence. “We could have helped her open the restaurant, but you always had to pick the easy way out. Let other people shoulder the burden. Are you happy now? Your daughter almost died!”
“Nana! No!” Sylvie grabbed her grandma who was about to get into Mom’s face.
“I’m—” Mom shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Sylvie. I don’t deserve to be your mother.”
“No you don’t!” Her grandma struggled against Sylvie’s hold.
“Nana. Enough!” Sylvie yelled. She looked over Nana’s shoulder at her mom whose eyes were now filling with tears.
Still shaking her head, Pru left the nook and walked straight to the door.
“There you go,” Nana called out. “All you ever do is run.”
Sylvie was torn between staying with Nana and going after her mother.
“I’ll check on her,” Porter offered and the admiral left without another word.
Nana harrumphed and turned around to pat Sylvie all over. “Are you sure you’re okay, child? Have you seen a doctor?”
She took both of her grandma’s hands in hers. “Nana, I’m fine. I was checked by a doctor yesterday.” She sighed. “You were too hard on Mom.”
Nana’s lips thinned, expression still mulish. Guess Sylvie knew where her stubborn streak came from. She understood her grandma’s frustration. For those first nine years, it was her and Nana against the world. Her grandma was running the farm and was understandably busy and couldn’t be there for Sylvie when she was having trouble at school. Nana gave up a lot to raise a young girl alone, and no one understood her sacrifice more than Sylvie. Those years when her mother traveled and rarely returned home, Sylvie didn’t want anything to do with her. She had resented her mom. It was only after Prudence Buchanan came home for good that they were able to build a solid relationship as mother and daughter. Her mom’s parenting style wasn’t as strict and structured as Nana’s, and this was a frequent source of contention between the two.
A phone buzzed behind her and she heard Nate answer.
“It’s Ed,” Nate told her. “He has some information about the assailants from yesterday. I’ll be outside.” He left the guesthouse as well.
“Oh, Sylvie, what kind of trouble are you really in?”
“We’ll find out soon, Nana.” No use speculating when all the pieces were still a puzzle.
“I’m so glad Nate is taking care of you.”
“He’s taking care of us,” she corrected. Her heart warmed at the thought.
“Well, I trust the men to take care of trouble.” Nana clapped her hands together and looked around. “Our job is to feed them. What do you say if I make fried chicken?”
Sylvie smiled. “My favorite, Nana.”
“And strawberry shortcake with buttermilk biscuits?”
“That’s Mom’s favorite.” Sylvie arched a brow. “I thought you were mad at her.”
“When you have children of your own, you’ll understand.”
“Understand what?”
“That a mother may be angry with her words, but never with her heart.”
*****
Nate ended the call with Ed and walked over to where Porter was standing right outside the guesthouse. The admiral was leaning against the wall, arms across his chest, watching Prudence Buchanan pace the width of the pool.
“That was Ed,” Nate informed Porter. “The attackers yesterday have been identified. They’re Japanese nationals who entered the country three months ago. A quick cross-reference with Japanese Intelligence confirms the men are indeed members of the Asian Crime Syndicate. Foot soldiers.”