Secret Worlds (363 page)

“Good.”

Her father grew quiet for a moment. He shifted and cleared his throat before he spoke. “There’s something I want to give you.”

“Dad—”

“Before you say no, let me explain.” He patted the spot next to him. “Come over here.”

“But—”

“Please, this is important.”

She slid across the step, and uneasiness swept over her as she waited for her father to speak. The last time he had made the face that he was making now was when he’d had to tell her that her mother had died.

He dug into his pocket and pulled out a delicate silver necklace. Sparks of blue and white shimmered off the tiny diamonds that lined the cross as he dangled it under the porch light—her mother’s necklace. Tears swam in her eyes as she remembered sitting on the hospital bed, her mother pale with pain, dark circles underneath her eyes, her cheeks gaunt. Whenever she’d traced the necklace, peace had flickered in her eyes. Her faith had been so strong; it was something Naomi wished she had too.

She slid her fingers over the pendant, feeling the cool touch of the silver. Since her mother had died, her father had kept the necklace in a small velvet pouch he always carried it with him. “I can’t.”

“It’s yours,” he said, his voice sounding loud in the quiet night, even though he spoke with a whisper.

Naomi dropped her hand. “It belongs to you.”

He picked up her hand and flipped it over. Dropping the necklace into her palm, he stared at it for a moment. “No, it belongs to
you
.”

“Dad, I—”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes, but—”

“I’ll feel better knowing you have this. You’re grown up and have a full life ahead of you. You need to go out. Meet someone special. When was the last time you went on a date?”

Naomi grimaced. There was something about watching her father lose the love of his life that had put the dating scene in perspective. She thought back to all the guys she had dated before. She couldn’t think of one she’d cared about as intensely as her parents had cared for each other.

“I’m not interested in dating, at least not for now.”

Javier shook his head. “Don’t close yourself off from love, Mijita. When the time is right, the person will find you. All you need is to have faith.” He took the necklace from her hand and fastened it around her neck.

Naomi studied his face and wondered why he was acting so strangely. He seemed to want to tell her more, and she waited quietly, hoping he would. Instead, he sighed and stood.

“Where are you going?” she asked, surprised that he was leaving.

“Work.” He took the car keys out of his pocket. “I’m doing some office cleaning at night.”

“You have
two
part-time jobs?”

“I’ve got a lot of bills to catch up on. Don’t look at me like that.” He tapped the frown line at the center of her forehead. “You’ll get wrinkles before you’re thirty.”

“Now that you’re better, maybe you could get an IT job.” She glanced away, knowing that even his degree in computer science couldn’t erase the trail of reprimands he’d gotten from his previous employers. She couldn’t help but hold on to the hope that, in a big city like Houston, someone would give him a fresh start and he could find a job before the technology world flew by.

“Maybe.” Javier turned the key in the ignition, and the lights encircling the Mustang flickered to life.

“You and Chuy did a good job.” Naomi stood back to get a better view. “It’s really cool. You two should go into business together.”

“That’s not a bad idea. Although, knowing Chuy, he’d eat up all the profits.” He put the car in reverse. “See you tomorrow. Don’t forget to put on your helmet.”

“I always do.” She waved.

He was halfway down the street when, out of nowhere, she had a strong desire to run after him. She shook her head and berated herself for acting silly.

I’ll see him tomorrow.
She started the bike and rode in the opposite direction.

***

Jane Sutherland leaned against the sink and slipped off her Jimmy Choos. After five hours of talking and hobnobbing with the Houston wealthy and the
Who’s Who
of Texas oil, her feet were screaming at her. She wiggled her toes as the floor cooled her aching feet.
Much better
, she thought
.
If only she could attend formal functions barefoot, it would make them much more fun.

She looked into the mirror and applied a fresh coat of ruby lipstick. Her platinum-blond hair, slicked back into a chignon, highlighted her large sapphire-colored eyes. Forty-seven years of avoiding the sun—she burned easily—had kept her face pale and wrinkle-free.

There was a knock at the door. “Senator Sutherland? Mr. Prescott has a guest he’d like to introduce to you.”

“I’ll be right there.” Jane sighed and placed the lipstick into her Gucci clutch. Another guest. Another drink.

When she had started her political career, she’d had no idea that most of her time would be spent fundraising. She had naively thought she’d be different from the others.
She’d
make a difference. Now, the only difference she made was whether or not her financial supporters would benefit from their generous donations to her campaign.

She swung the door open to find a distinguished-looking man standing in the hall.

“Senator.” He broke into a glorious smile. “I was about to see if you needed my assistance.”

“I seem to recall that the last time you offered to help and came after me in the ladies room, I got water all over your silk tie.” Jane smiled at Luke Prescott.

He offered his arm, and she tucked her hand into it. “I was doing you a favor, lifting you up so you could wash your hands. I had no idea you would destroy my favorite tie.”

“That’s the risk of keeping company with a five-year-old.” Jane squeezed his arm affectionately.

Her father had worked for Luke Prescott, and he was a close family friend. Growing up, Luke had always been present for the important events in her life—the lead in the school play, prom, graduation—even when her father hadn’t. Then when her mother had died, he’d made sure to call at least once a day. He became her closest confidant. It had been his idea for her to go to law school, and after that, he’d encouraged and supported her run for Senate.

“Thank goodness I had a dozen more like it.” His grey eyes twinkled.

“And why wouldn’t you? I would think a billionaire would have at least a couple.”

“Now, now, Jane. Be nice to the super wealthy. We have feelings, too.”

Jane paused at the entrance to the ballroom. The room was packed with supporters of the American Federation Party, all expecting great things from her. All she had ever wanted was to help give people a better life. When had that turned into wearing a designer gown and talking to people who paid the price of a small car just to be in the same room with her? If it hadn’t been for Luke insisting and purchasing her wardrobe, what he considered a necessary uniform, she’d wear something less ostentatious.

“I’m a bit tired, Luke. Let’s call it a night.”

“One more person,” he whispered into her ear. “The Conoleys are dying to meet you in person. They flew all the way from Oklahoma.”

“On their private jet, I’m sure.”

“It’s a small one.”

“Oh, my apologies.” Jane feigned concern. “I didn’t know how much hardship they were under. Let’s meet them.” She might as well get this over with. As much as she hated fundraising, she was passionate about the American Federation Party, believing that their core value of fiscal and community responsibilities would benefit the country.

After Jane shared a drink with the Conoleys, Luke took her to another group of people to meet. Every time she tried to leave, Luke found an excuse for her to stay. It was strange that, as the evening progressed, she had the sensation of being drunk, even though she barely sipped from only one glass of wine. She glanced at her drink, wondering how it could still be half-full. It was as if she hadn’t been drinking from it at all.

“I’ve had enough, Luke,” she said.

“Go and get your beauty sleep.” He waved to a tall man standing on the outskirts of the room. “I’ll have Sal follow you home.”

“That’s not necessary,” she said. Sal was Luke’s personal assistant and bodyguard. Wherever Luke went, Sal was close behind, lurking in the shadows. He tried to blend in with others, which was difficult for a hulking six-foot-two mass of muscles to do, and the crocodile boots he always wore didn’t help, either.

Sal stood at Luke’s side, his face devoid of emotion. His black eyes glanced over Jane and, for a moment, they tensed and looked at her as if she was beneath him. A cold sensation hit the pit of her stomach. He’d never looked at her like that before; Jane wondered what she had done to earn a look like that.

Luke gave him a slight nod, and Sal gave Jane one final glance before he made his way through the crowd and disappeared out of the ballroom. “I’ll let you go for now, but you’ll have to get used to having people at your side at all times when you’re the president.” Luke took her by the elbow and walked her to the lobby.

Jane laughed. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. Let’s wait and see if I can survive my current term. I barely won my seat the first time.” When Luke and his friends had suggested that she run for the Senate under the American Federation Party, she never thought she’d actually win since the party was new and had few supporters. Luke, on the other hand, had had no doubts.

“I’ve never been wrong when it comes to situations like this. Mark my words, Jane. You will be the president of the United States.”

The words sent a chill through Jane. She should have been elated. Why did the chill feel like it was one of fear rather than excitement?

A light rain fell as she drove her silver Jaguar XF—a gift from Luke when she’d graduated from law school long ago—through the outskirts of Houston toward her home in the suburbs. Feeling light-headed, she turned on the air conditioning and directed the cool air toward her face. Grabbing her smartphone, she pressed a button and waited for the familiar beep.

“Play Mozart,” she instructed.

“Eine kleine Nachtmusik” filtered through the speakers as she drove along a winding road. The car’s headlights bounced off the glass of the office buildings she passed. As she stared down the highway, fighting to keep awake, she saw a streetlight flickering in the distance. When she passed it, the light intensified and then went back to normal. She then saw another light doing the same thing—flicker, grow brighter, then back to normal—as she drove past it.

I must’ve drunk more than I thought.
She slapped her cheeks lightly.

The phone rang, and she jumped, startled. Glancing down, she saw the name “Luke Prescott” written across the screen.

Everything seemed to happen all at once. A massive weight pressed down on her chest, and for a second she thought she was having a heart attack. The pressure spread as if enclosing her entire body in a cocoon, protecting her. It was the same feeling she had had thirty-five years ago, just before the plane had crashed. There was a screech of tires, and a rush of adrenaline swept through her. The last thing she saw before blacking out was a dancing horse barreling toward her.

Lash watched the tall redhead as she searched the smoke-filled room. The only illumination came from the string of lights that lined the stage, where a couple of her co-workers worked the pole. It was late in the afternoon, and business was slow, except for the group of retired old men that were the bar’s regulars. When her eyes wandered to the back corner of the room and locked with his, he smirked at the obvious lust written across her face as she took in the black t-shirt that molded his sculpted chest, faded, torn jeans hugging his hips, and wild, dark hair.

Lash broke into a smile as she sauntered toward him. His eyes traveled over her body, taking in the long curves of her legs, leopard pastie-covered breasts, and the dollar-lined thong that hugged her waist, leaving little to the imagination. He stood to meet her when a hand slammed against his shoulder and shoved him back down into his seat.

“Gabrielle,” he growled. “How did you find me?”

“Get away, sister. This one is mine,” the redhead said as she eyed Gabrielle.

Gabrielle looked at the redhead and frowned. Shaking her head, she took off her leather jacket and tossed it to the girl. “Leave this place and don’t return.”

The redhead blinked, looking confused.

Gabrielle leaned in toward her and whispered, “You’ll find a better job tomorrow. I promise.”

Stunned, the redhead simply nodded, put on Gabrielle’s jacket, and walked out the door.

“Michael doesn’t like it when you use your Jedi mind tricks on humans.” Lash wagged a finger.

Gabrielle yanked out a chair and wiped it down with a napkin before she sat. “Thirty-five years on Earth and the most you’ve accomplished is an in-depth knowledge of George Lucas films. Nice.”

“Let’s call it an anthropological study of human nature.” Lash smirked as he lifted his drink.

Gabrielle frowned. “You defile your body as well as your mind.”

“I’d think you’d find it entertaining.”

“I have more important things to do than watch you wallow in your self-created misery.”

“What? You don’t care if I fall to the dark side?” Lash feigned wide-eyed innocence. “I’m hurt.”

“I don’t know what Raphael sees in you. I’m wasting my time here.”

“If you don’t plan to take off those clothes and dance around that pole over there, then, yes, I would say you are.”

Her eyes turned cold. “Barbarian.”

“Some women like it.” He grinned, unrepentant.

“Ugh, let’s get this over with. I have an assignment for you.”

“I’m out of the family business, remember?” Lash leaned back in his seat. “As I recall, you were there when I was unceremoniously tossed out the door.”

“It was the highlight of my century.”

“I’m sure it was.” Lash looked into her cat-like eyes and wished he could wipe the smugness off her face. “Whatever you have, I’m not interested.”

Gabrielle arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure?” She pulled out a folded piece of paper from the back pocket of her jeans and waved it in front of his face. “Aren’t you the least bit curious why Michael would give you an assignment after all these years?”