Chapter Twenty-One
Aaron was feeling jittery. Two days had passed since he heard from Jayce. He wanted to hear more about Alka but his friend was not answering his phone.
Jayce told him that Alka was being guarded by a security detail and that she was frightened. He couldn't sit still and do nothing. He needed to do something. He rocked back in his chair and contemplated his options. He could go to India... and do what exactly?
He didn't even know the place and Alka lived in one of the biggest cities in the world.
"You," Boris growled at the door. "I am in charge of this company now."
"If you keep repeating it, it may seem real." Aaron looked at his brother lazily. "But for now Dad is still in charge."
"And I am going to recommend to the board that you be fired," Boris continued sharply.
"Good luck with that," Aaron said, "but why, what have I done?"
"You told the senior managers to protest me being president. There are a whole slew of resignations pouring in. One of them, Travis King, the recent manager at Paradise Palms, wants to leave effective immediately."
Aaron laughed. "I recruited Travis, stole him from the Hilton. He came on condition that he was going to be working with me."
Boris growled. "I am going to fix this."
"Good," Aaron said absently. "Put on the charm, reassure the managers that you will not be the arrogant pig-headed demon that they have always feared and they will work with you."
"I was never arrogant," Boris said, "and it is in your best interest to demonize me to everyone, isn't it?"
"I don't demonize you to everyone," Aaron said. "In fact, I rarely talk about you. You do a good job of alienating everyone by yourself."
"They have always liked you better than me," Boris said. "I don't get why. It's not as if you are better looking, or smarter."
Aaron laughed. "Boris, stop comparing yourself to me. Stop being petty and childish and plotting ways to hurt me. Do you know that you, my brother, my own flesh and blood, make a worse enemy than any stranger in the street? I have to constantly watch my back with you, and that is becoming a chore.
"You are president now. Be happy and try to make things easier for yourself. So that you don't have to go to the board and beg them to kick me out, I am resigning."
Boris opened his mouth. "What?"
"Yup." Aaron stood up. "I am going to start my own business. I want to start with a boutique hotel concept. It will be no competition for the Palm Group of hotels, so there, you will have no competition from me. No need to compare yourself to me in the future."
The phone rang and Aaron picked it up.
"Hello," a shaky female voice said.
Aaron sat down again, a shaft of shock running through him. "Alka?"
"Yes," Alka said, laughing and crying at the same time. "I am at the airport."
"You are?" Aaron asked, hope blooming in his chest. "Are you planning to come back to Jamaica?"
"Not planning, I am already here," Alka said huskily. "I am at the airport in Montego Bay. Can I get a lift home?"
"What? Of course." Aaron put the phone down quickly and grinned at Boris. "My girl is back!"
Boris frowned. "Which girl is that?"
Aaron just laughed.
*****
Traffic was moving too slowly for Aaron as he headed toward the airport. Alka was in Jamaica two days after he heard from Jayce. He was anxious to hear what happened. When he reached the airport he saw her standing outside, near the car rental area. She looked disheveled in a pair of jeans and a pink t-shirt. She also looked lonely and bereft somehow. Her eyes were puffy, as if she had been crying, but she still looked so precious to him that he had to stare at her for a while. He could barely believe that she was back. She had come back to him and she was carrying his baby.
He came out of the car in the no parking zone and hugged her to him tightly.
"I can't believe you are really here," he whispered in her ear.
Alka nodded. "I am here. We are here."
Aaron wrapped his hand around her waist. "There are so many things to take in. I know we didn't do this the right way but I am absolutely over the moon that you both are back here with me."
"Come on." He bundled her into the car. "Where's your luggage?"
"Didn't bring any," Alka said. "I escaped with the clothes on my back. It's a long story. I escaped from Rajiv in my friend's car. Got to the airport and bought a ticket to Jamaica. I was fortunate to get a flight the same day."
She got into the car and Aaron turned on the AC. "I was expecting to hear from Jayce about you but he hasn't called."
Alka shrugged. "He is at that conference. He will call when he gets the time."
She sighed heavily. "I left it all, Aaron. You and this baby are my only family now. I made a conscious decision to leave it all behind. I feel a little like Ruth in the Bible."
Aaron glanced at her contemplatively. "Does that scare you?"
Alka shook her head. "No. Not like it did when I was eighteen. I made my peace with my decision in the plane. I know this much. My parents are not going to even want to hear my name called again. My brothers and sisters are old fashioned enough to follow them. And Rajiv..."
She rummaged in her hand luggage. "Rajiv is vengeful and devious. I found this," she waved a note, "in his safe. It is from his friend, Ajmal. They plotted to make me sick with castor seeds five years ago and while I was so sorry for my dying husband, turns out he wasn't dying. He isn't even sick! This tablet that I saw him taking religiously every morning for his pain is nothing more than a placebo."
Aaron frowned. "You don't say."
"He never expected me to leave him," Alka said chokingly. "It was cruel what Rajiv has done and was planning to do."
Aaron tapped the steering wheel. "Does he know that Jayce spoke to you?"
"Yes," Alka said slowly. "Jayce pretended to be a doctor over the phone and I went to his hotel to see him. I didn't stay long; Rajiv's goons were trailing me."
Aaron groaned. "Alka, is your husband evil enough to hurt my friend?"
"I am afraid so," Alka said. "Oh my. I never thought of that. At breakfast he said that he was going to find out who Dr. Jayce really was. It seems so far away now."
*****
Aaron had to cut his reunion with Alka short. He left her at the house and drove to Phoenix Security Systems like a bat out of hell. He had to talk to Jayce's ex-military father, Thaddeus Morgan.
Thaddeus had been a special ops personnel in the military with a post so top secret that even in retirement he didn't speak about it. He started the security company, Owl Security, years ago and had grown the business into a well-respected operation.
When he was little boy Aaron had been afraid of General Morgan. To this day he didn't like talking to him. His juvenile fear would always rear its ugly head. He contemplated why when he drove up to the state-of-the-art security firm and pressed the buzzer at the gate.
Was it because General Morgan was gruff and stern and he and the rest of his friends to this day could only address him as General? Even Jayce called him General.
The gate slowly swung open for him and he drove through. The General was standing at the front in the driveway, talking on his phone in a strange language. Aaron was trying to decipher one word that was familiar, but he couldn't.
The general's gray moustache looked like it was drooping a little but he was still upright and as formidable as he ever was. Today he appeared a little less stern than normal.
"General," Aaron said when he got off his phone, "I have been trying to reach Jayce in India. I thought you would have more information than I would."
The general said roughly, "Jayce was shot two days ago by unknown assailants."
Aaron's shoulders slumped. "What?"
"Yes, and I never thought I would say this," the general said feelingly, "for all the ribbing I have given that boy. I am happy that he was fat. His belly took the bullet. It grazed his stomach and
didn't cause much damage. He'll be back here by tomorrow. He has gotten the okay to fly with a bandaged belly, of course. He won't be able to eat anything but liquid foods for the next few weeks."
Aaron breathed out gratefully. "Thank God."
The general raised his eyebrows. "I know you love that son of mine, but that relief sounds heartfelt."
"Because I think I know who shot him." Aaron said. "And I think it is my fault he got shot."
The general frowned. "Is that so?"
"Yes," Aaron said, "a guy named Rajiv Singh. He was holding his wife captive and she escaped. I asked Jayce to talk to her." He relayed the rest of the story as best as he could and then the general held up his hands.
"I'll take care of this. I have high-level contacts in India."
"Wait," Aaron said nervously, "you aren't going to kill him, are you?"
The general growled. "Mr. Lee. Do I look like a gunslinger thug, or a law abiding citizen?"
"Well, er..." Aaron stumbled.
The general laughed. "I am not going to kill him, but if he ordered a hit on my son, he should be punished. Don't you think?"
"While you are at it…" Aaron said, "I don't know. Can your contacts make him voluntarily divorce Alka Singh?"
The general nodded. "I can do that easily. When a man is backed into a corner he will do anything."
Aaron didn't doubt him as he picked up his phone again and growled to whoever was on the other line. "We can trace who shot Jayce, the hit was ordered by a big shot Bollywood producer. I want the men who shot him and I want that producer."
Three months later...
It was the first wedding in the Lees' backyard; Pastor Greenwald had refused to marry Aaron and Alka in the church because he had a certain standard to maintain and besides, there was a handy pool nearby where he would baptize them after the ceremony.
The backyard was perfect for the occasion. They were standing under a trellis, not far from where they first met. The sun bathed everybody in its golden evening light and the beach made musical lapping sounds on the nearby shore.
The bride was heavily pregnant but not obviously so; her traditional sari dress covered much of her bump. Her divorce from Rajiv had just come through yesterday. Much to her delight, he did not put up much of a fight to set her free, maybe because he was busy in court battling the allegations that he had paid his security men to murder Jayce Morgan.
The news media in India was buzzing with his recent predicament. Of course, he had denied all allegations and was upholding his innocence. The public believed him too; why would a rich, influential man do such a senseless act of violence? Because of the news coverage, Rajiv had come out even more popular than he was before.
The divorce had caused quite a stir as well, since he had instigated it. His side of the story was that Alka left him for another man while on vacation and the baby she carried was not his and it saddened him greatly.
Alka's family were very visible in sticking by their ex son-in-law. Needless to say she was rebuffed by all who were near and dear to her. She would never be able to go back to her family's village or India, for that matter.
Her father said she was as good as dead.
It saddened Alka sometimes but today, as she held on to Aaron's hands, she didn't feel alone anymore. His family was now hers, and they had welcomed her warmly. Well, everyone except for Boris.
He was sitting in the very last row with his dark glasses on and a sour expression on his face. One month ago, the executive VPs had refused to work with him and the business had gone through somewhat of a turbulent phase. Aaron had personally had to mediate between Boris and the VPs. The board had asked him to come back as president but he had refused. He wanted to start his own business apart from family and he had already found a spot to build his very first boutique hotel.
Alka looked in the audience Aaron had invited the band members and their wives, his parents and grandparents, uncles and aunties, and a whole slew of relatives to the ceremony. There was nobody to invite from Alka's side. A shaft of sadness encased her. She shook it off determinedly, clutching Aaron's hands even tighter to her.
They had both written their vows and after the minister did his opening speech, he indicated for Aaron to start.
Aaron looked her deep in the eyes with a look of love so profound it warmed her insides.
"Alka, ten years ago I should have said this: I love you. I love you enough to know that this is not a passing whim or a flash in the pan kind of feeling. This is the kind of feeling that will last a lifetime. I know you miss your family now, but I want you to know that you'll not miss much. I will be here for you forever, as long as we both shall live. I will cherish you as if you…we are one and I will put your needs before mine. I love you."
Alka's eyes teared up.
She had written down her vows because she did not want to forget them, but being in the moment, she closed her eyes tightly and then opened them. She didn't need a piece of paper; she knew exactly what she wanted to say.
"Thank you for loving me through all my drama," she started tentatively.
Aaron grinned.
"Needless to say, I love you too, and I am truly thankful to God for bringing us together. Being with you now, I know that I have made the right decision. Leaving all behind doesn't seem that scary anymore now and I wonder why I never did it when I was eighteen. Anyway, nothing happens before its time. I vow today that where you go, I will go; and where you lodge, I will lodge: your people shall be my people, and your God my God."
Pastor Greenwald beamed. "You may kiss your bride, sir."
And Aaron did just that.
The End
Author's Notes
Dear Reader,
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Brenda
Keep reading for an excerpt from Past Refrain
Jayce and Abigail's story
October 5th
"Happy Birthday Jayce!" His friends slapped him on the back as he entered the warehouse where the band practiced. He had grudgingly allowed them to throw him a party. Usually he hated his birthdays and resisted the calls to celebrate it with anyone. So many momentous and traumatic things happened to him on this day that he had grown to be wary of the date.
It started when he was born. His father said a freak lightning storm happened on the night he made his squalling entry into the world. The storm had plunged the little clinic, where his mother had given birth, into the darkness and the nurses had mixed him up with two other babies.
His father had joked that he might not even belong to him. According to his Dad, the clinic sent him home with them because he shared the same light complexion as his mother and what looked like a similar shaped birthmark to his.
He could easily belong to another couple, and for years he had wished that he had different parents. One of these days he would find out for sure.
It was also October 5th that his mother had packed two bags: a red leather suitcase that was split at the side; little tendrils of furry fiber sticking from it, and a cloth bag with a picture of Mickey Mouse on the side and told him to be good. She had kissed him on the forehead and told him she would be back for him later. He never saw her again. He was just eight at the time.
It was also on his birthday that Haley Greenwald, the only girl he had ever loved, was born.
For years after they had lost touch, his stupid birthday would remind him that Haley was also celebrating somewhere else—probably with someone else.
He breathed in deeply, accepting a cup of green juice from Melody with an absent smile and sunk down into his favorite beanbag chair. He was thankful for this birthday this year more than any other because just five short months ago he almost died. There was nothing like being shot in the abdomen and surviving to make a person realize his mortality and cause one to do some stocktaking.
He realized that he had just been cruising along in his thirty-four years. He hadn't accomplished anything much. He had started working with his father's security company after graduating college, as an IT auditor. He had deliberately done computer security just so that he could work for his father and fill a gap in the ever-expanding area of computer crimes. He reasoned that that could be counted as an accomplishment. He had expanded that side of the business significantly. His family's company was successful and highly regarded among local companies, but somehow that fact didn't give him the tingle of accomplishment that it should.
He wasn't sure if that was what he had wanted to do ultimately, though. Sometimes he got the urge to be creative but that usually happens when he went for lunch at the Searock Cafe close to where the office was and saw Abigail, his favorite waitress. She had been inspiring him to poetry.
He had written several odes to her smile so far. He had it bad for her—real bad—adolescent bad. For the past year he had been interested in her but he had yet to make a move. Maybe now was the time to do it.
Broken Harmony Page 14
