by Jerri George
“Wow. What do the doctors say about his recovery?” It was just like Cameron to show he was far more concerned for her uncle than about the money or other things.
“It’s a wait-and-see game. They’re saying time will tell, but I need him to wake up. He’s got to have some recollection of what happened, and then maybe I can get the police moving. I don’t care what they say, I think it was deliberate.” She went on to tell him about Merlin and the drugging of both dogs.
“Who would wanna hurt a guy and his dogs? He’s like Robin Hood. Please let me know when Bri and I can go see him. We’re free after this weekend, and we’re always here for you, lady.” Cameron and his girlfriend Brianna had been dating for several years and became engaged while working at To Dine For Catering. Their plan was to open their own restaurant one day. He leaned over kissing the top of his mentor’s head.
Candace choked up and squeezed her eyes shut to block the tears that unexpectedly accompanied his display of affection. She cleared her throat. “I will, and I know you are. Let’s see if we can concentrate on work. Help me focus, please. We still need to get everything ordered for this weekend and the congressman’s dinner on Thursday.”
“You got it,” he said, pulling up a chair to the desk. “Hey, you wanna smoke a bowl before we do? It’ll help you relax.” Cameron, ever the equalizer and keeper of the company weed supply.
Candace shook her head. “Not now. I need to focus. I really need you and Ro to take point on helping Anton now. Did I tell you my friend Dawn was running that one?”
“Yeah. Anton told me she was doing the promotional work. How’d she get mixed up with a congressman? Is he married?” Cameron smiled and winked that wink.
“Now, Cammie, give the girl a break.” Candace knew he was referring to the fact that Dawn was pretty well known around town, showing up to all the hot spots on the arm of every eligible, and not so eligible, man in Denver.
“Okay, okay.” He laughed as Ro came in.
“What’s going on, Cam?” Ro asked.
“Just talking about The Dawn, and don’t call me that!” He jumped up, flinging his arm around Ro’s neck, holding her in a brotherly headlock.
“Oh, so you heard about her shindig with the congressman?” Ro said matter-of-factly.
Cam frowned. “Yep, I guess she’ll be bossing us all around without CJ there.”
Dawn had had more than her share of bad luck or Karma, as she would call it. Candace always defended the underdog. “All right you two, that’s enough. I know she can be difficult, but she’s had it tough.”
“Maybe I’ll just get her high, and she’ll chill out a bit,” said Cam.”
Shaking her head, Candace remembered the circumstances surrounding the death of Dawn’s father when she was only fourteen. Without the counseling and structure that Candace had been fortunate to have, it was really no wonder she’d ended up getting arrested for shoplifting by the time she was sixteen. No amount of money could keep her out of age appropriate incarceration and drug rehab. Further assaults to her record were all expunged by age eighteen, but she continued to live life on the edge.
It wasn’t until her mother was diagnosed with cancer that Dawn began to repair their estrangement. They took a trip to Japan where Dawn learned about the culture. It was their physically demanding exercise regimes she credited for getting her head on straight. Upon returning to the States, Dawn took classes at a top Manhattan advertising and design firm and lived with her mom in Connecticut. When Marjorie entered remission, Dawn ended up in Denver to remain close to memories of her father and to start her own PR firm with his former list of extensive contacts.
“She’s a real piece of work. You know Bri hates her,” he said it as if the fact his girlfriend disapproval was huge. It was common knowledge that Brianna was a sweetheart and loved everyone.
“She came down to the hospital in the middle of the night.” Candace countered, not quite sure why Dawn had that effect on people.
Cam scoffed. “Seriously? Did she want to pick up a doctor or something?”
“Probably a plastic surgeon.” Ro snickered and freed herself by poking Cam in the ribs, and then said, “Sorry.”
“Cut her some slack, guys. My uncle and I have known her since we were kids.” Candace continued. “Come on, let’s put our heads in some menus.”
Candace ignored the fact that Ro flashed Cameron a knowing look and settled into ordering inventory for the upcoming wedding. The menus were broken down and each item added to a purveyor list. Pickups and deliveries were scheduled and two hours later the food for the weekend was set. Ro would double-check deliveries the morning of the event, and Cam would make sure all prepped items arrived in proper quantities and in good condition.
“Anton won’t ask for an extra pair of hands, but at least he’ll have this part covered,” she said.
The bridal menu consisted of a cocktail station with assorted fresh fruits and imported cheeses cascading from the base of a three-foot-tall pineapple palm tree as the centerpiece for the buffet. Once there, hours of work went into the creation of the tree itself with real palm fronds purchased from the local florist that would rise out of the top. Fussing with the tree was Cameron’s department. Deferring to the bride’s personal taste, the cheese board was comprised of Saga Bleu and smoked Gouda with flatbreads and poppy seed crackers.
The wedding also called for a seafood display in a round copper tub, loaded with ice and hundreds of jumbo Rooibos-tea-marinated shrimp, accompanied by several sauces and a marble slab presentation of roasted vegetables, along with Italian sausage slices and toasted Crostini rounds brushed with seasoned olive oil.
That was one of Uncle Dan’s favorites. Candace sighed. Nothing in her life would ever be the same without him. She picked up the phone to call the hospital, and as she did, a voice on the other end said, “Hello…Hello?”
“Oh, hi, Dawn, I was just calling out. You must be psychic,” Candace said.
“I tried you on your cell but got the voicemail. I had a feeling you went to work anyway. Can’t you ever just relax?” Dawn, ever the critic. “Do you still want to catch dinner or are you going to squirm out of our plans?”
“I can. I’m not squirming out of anything, but I thought you’d end up doing something with the congressman tonight.”
“No, he’ll be in Washington until the event. He’s a busy guy, and I’m trying really hard not to seem desperate.”
Candace was amused for the first time in days. “You, desperate? Hardly.”
“You don’t know the half of it. Besides, it’s a lot harder trying not to seem desperate than it is actually being desperate, if you get my drift. Why don’t you ask the Russian hunk to join us? I’m sure he’d love to.”
“What? You’re a crazy woman, and yes, I’ll ask him. Thanks.”
Dawn asked, “Okay, how about we meet at my place and go together?”
“We can try the new Cuban restaurant. I could go for some really good Ropa Vieja.” Candace remembered that culinary street treat from south Miami. People came to Denver and tried to duplicate it but never really succeeded. She suspected the ocean air and tropically grown plantains were the secret to the Cuban flavor.
“Yes! And we’ll get some rice and black beans.”
Candace confirmed. “Okay, I’ll see you around seven?”
Dawn chuckled. “You mean seven o’clock for real or seven Cuban time?”
“I mean seven, Anton time. You know how punctual he is! I’ve got to finish up here. See you later.”
“Okay, don’t work too hard.” With that, Dawn hung up.
Candace shook her head. The two of them couldn’t be more different. Dawn was a party animal while Candace would rather stay home, whip up something to eat and curl up with a good book. She already knew Dawn would drag her from club to club after dinner and was ashamed to admit she’d let it happen.
Chapter 14
Candace’s conversation with Tripp’s father, Harry Long was an un
pleasant. He quickly verified that no heroic measures of any kind would be used to save her uncle and confirmed a will had been in place for years. However, he also inferred that not just Candace and Jesse were within its provisions. Preserving the attorney-client privilege, he couldn’t say much more. He did insist all legal avenues be exhausted to clear up the matter of whether it was an accident or an attack. He told her he’d leave the paperwork at the office with Tripp and hoped to see Dan at the hospital on Saturday. He delivered instructions to call with any change in his condition.
Still uncomfortable about not being able to coerce details from the elder Long, Candace ended the conversation. Someone else was in Uncle’s will. She looked down at her skirt which was wrinkled from sitting in the car and behind her desk all day. She strode over to the walk-in closet and selected a nice pair of jeans. She wondered if Tripp could give her more information. Seeing him tomorrow was definitely necessary even though it would surely open a can of worms and release countless feelings.
Her five-piece office bathroom was finished in ivory marble tile with bamboo accents. It had been one real benefit of their refurbish. When the staff prepped for parties, Candace could slip away, slide into the tub, refresh, and dress before a big night while still being handy. The jetted bathtub and spa were her favorite part of the house, second only to the kitchen.
Sliding into tight blue jeans, Colorado’s design equivalent to a little black dress, and a white tank top sequined with a single rose entwined in thorny branches, she tossed her head and brushed her locks forward to smooth out some of the natural curl. She shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair.
That was better. She nodded her approval in the mirror. However, she still looked sleep deprived. She grabbed a short dark-green suede jacket that matched some of stem work on the top and went down the hall to Anton’s office. She loved how closely they worked, their offices and their growing success. Up until this week everything had been as she hoped and planned it would. Now life was marching on as usual except for the fact Uncle Dan wasn’t awake.
Anton was sitting at his all-glass desk playing chess on the computer. The chrome legs and cross supports to his workspace looked very modern. She noticed he too, had changed. He wore an expensive pair of pleated black slacks, impeccably tailored with a skinny snakeskin belt which peeked under the loosely tucked gray-blue silk shirt. When he turned to greet her, his smoky eyes reflected that color, set off by his thick black lashes.
“Do we have to go?” Anton pleaded. “Let’s stay here. I’ll make you dinner.”
She sat on the couch and dug in her purse for makeup. “I want to go. You don’t have to go with us.”
“I want to go, but with you, only with you,” he said quietly.
“I know, but can’t you just tolerate her tonight…for me?” Her voice raised pleadingly. “My schedule is so limited right now.”
Anton sighed.
His office definitely reflected his personal taste. Nature filled the room. A black leather sectional with cream-colored throw pillows embroidered with black bears and moose heads sat haphazardly in opposing corners. Hunter green was the color of choice and large potted ornamental evergreens rose from the corners of the room. A small elk chandelier Uncle Dan had given him hung over one end table, and an animal skin area rug finished the overall woodland theme.
His bookcases were overflowing with books, Indian artifacts, and pottery. Most of the pieces were from trips he had taken either hiking or canoeing on the Arkansas River. Pictures of deer, buffalo and elk in their natural habitat hung on the walls, most taken in the snow. Anton was just as passionate about snow as he was about food and could be found on the slopes snowboarding and skiing when he wasn’t cooking.
“Please just go with us.”
Anton conceded. “Okay, but only for you, my кукла.”
“Good.” She was relieved to have his company, and put her mind to her uncle. “I called the hospital again. They told me his blood work looks good, and his oxygen level is rising.”
The only true measure of how she was doing at the moment was through the condition of her uncle.
“I called as well. They said no change, which is what they always tell me,” Anton added, shutting off his computer.
She finished putting on her face, a term her mother would use, and snapped her compact mirror shut. “I know. I hate that. I’ve told them they can tell you anything.”
“He’s going to be fine, I’m sure. And when they find out who did this, I’m going hunting, for real. In the meantime, I’m very much a hungry bear, so we better get going, or I might eat your little friend for dinner.” He got up and crossed the room with his brow furrowed.
Candace winked and gave him a big smile. “She’d probably love being devoured by you.”
“Ha, ha, very funny.” He extended his arm and pulled her up from the couch into a great big hug.
Candace laughed for the first time in days. “I saw her at the site visit today. She said she came by and borrowed the dress for the party.”
“Ah, yes she did. What else did she say?” He looked into her face and planted a very soft and tender peck on her newly pink nose.
“Nothing much. Almost changed the menu but didn’t.”
“Good,” Anton let out a breath and wrapped an arm around her waist. They strolled out to the car, giggling as if it were any other evening.
Chapter 15
As Anton circled the block, Candace waited for Dawn in her apartment, studying an array of silver and crystal picture frames atop the piano. The black baby grand was the focal point in a loft decorated stark white with splashes of neon yellow. The only exception was the addition of hot-pink faux zebra print on her dining chairs and throw pillows tossed on the white leather sectional.
A lemon-tipped white shag rug sprawled across the ebony laminate floor. Black and white prints of Marilyn Monroe, Elvis Presley and the 1950’s Rat Pack framed in fluorescent-yellow lacquer hung on the exterior walls. The room was dimly lit with the exception of the posters and other art showcased by pinpoint spotlights suspended from ceiling rafters. Uncle Dan teased that the art deco influenced space had some “early boudoir” thrown in for good measure. Candace didn't care much for it, but it oddly suited Dawn.
“Are you almost ready? Anton’s in the car downstairs.” she called.
“Coming!” Dawn answered from the bedroom.
“Hurry up.”
A single black and white snapshot, protected under glass like a treasured museum artifact, caught Candace’s attention. It was a photo of Dawn's father, Eric, and the Kane boys back in the day. They had been captured in time, celebrating a big win at a senior football game. The three posed at the edge of the stadium bleachers, Eric in his lettered sweater flanked by Brad and Dan in their uniforms and helmets with their arms slung over Eric’s shoulders. Candace’s dad and uncle sported toothy grins like a pair of bulldog bookends. It was hard to believe two of these men were already gone, and now, Uncle Dan was clinging to life.
Eric Ehrlickson had been a friend of the Kane family since Candace's father and uncle moved to South Florida and began attending the same high school. For three years they ran with the same group of friends and spent nearly all of their spare time at Miami Beach. For all of their closeness, Eric was the antithesis of the brothers. He was passionate about track, not football and a devotee of chess club rather than rubbing elbows with the afterschool soda fountain crowd. He was built like a swimmer—long and lean with toned muscles and a rippled six-pack, unlike the pair of gorillas. Also by contrast, getting into an Ivy League college was a slam dunk for Eric, if not from his own grade point average then through his family's connections, where Dan and Brad were both expected to deliver on a scholarship.
“Do you think our dads and Uncle Dan had any idea what they'd end up doing back then and how far they’d go?” Candace called out to Dawn. She struggled to ask her if she knew about the letters.
“Oh, I don't think so. I
remember Dad telling me it was your dad and uncle’s pet project to rescue him after my grandmother died in their senior year.” Dawn now stood in the doorway gazing at the picture, too. “He said they both really showed him a good time. If it wasn't for their antics, he didn't know if he would have pulled through.”
“Yeah, they knew what it felt like to lose a parent. I hear they tried really hard to keep his mind off it and to help him graduate.” Candace thought about her own struggle and physically shuddered at the possibly of losing her uncle. “You about ready?”
Candace was always a bit jealous of Dawn’s figure and her ability to slip on anything and have it fit just right. Tonight, it was jeans with a cream-colored silk blouse, a brown leather jacket and saddle color boots. Very Denver.
“Yes, be right there. The stories I heard were colorful, I'll give 'em that,” Dawn commented over her shoulder as she turned back to her bedroom. “Dad said every weekend the three of them hung out like the Musketeers, cruised the beach, and slayed the hearts of eligible young ladies, but I'm not really sure who helped who. It’s creepy, don’t ya think? I mean, first your dad and uncle lost their father so young, and my grandmother died when my dad was in high school, then you were orphaned at thirteen the same year my dad croaked. I’d say we’re effin’ cursed.”
“Dawn!” Candace said in an alarmed and chastising tone. She never could support her friend’s coarse use of the vernacular nor her perception on life. Candace really wanted to say how creepy it was about Uncle Dan and Dawn’s mom but thought better of it.
“You really need to chill,” she said, finally ready and made her way toward Candace.
“You know, your dad really was good looking,” Candace observed, changing the topic. “Was he always so serious? I don't remember him like that.”
