by I. T. Lucas
Andrew swallowed a mouthful of sandwich and wiped a drop of mayo from his chin. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
Talking about appetite, Nathalie knew what was on his mind. “I don’t need the extra stress. The shop is too busy in the morning for Jackson and me to exchange more than a few words.”
“The last thing I want is for you to get stressed over anything. I was just thinking that Jackson might be out on a date or something like that.”
She hadn’t considered that, but if he was, he would tell her he couldn’t come. Jackson wasn’t shy or timid. Besides, the promise of a fat check would be too alluring for him to say no to.
Nathalie made the call.
“I’m coming over,” he said before she had a chance to mention the check.
Andrew was chewing the last bite of the second sandwich she’d made for him when the back door opened and Jackson walked in.
“Andrew, my man, so good to see you on the other side.” He offered Andrew his hand. When Andrew took it, Jackson pulled him up into a bro hug, complete with the backslapping. It sounded painful. Men were such weird creatures, expressing feelings of friendship by hitting each other on the back.
“It’s good to be here,” Andrew smiled.
“I’ll bet. How are you doing, Nathalie?” The boy finally turned his attention to her. She’d forgive his lack of manners this time. After all, there were extenuating circumstances.
“I’m great. Are you hungry? Can I offer you a sandwich?”
Jackson shook his head and planted his butt next to Andrew. “This place is killing my appetite. Being around food all day is tough on the senses.”
Andrew nodded in understanding. “The smells get to you, ha?”
“They do.”
Now that he was so close, she noticed that Jackson looked a little skinnier, less fit. This job was taking a toll on him.
“So, tell me, Jackson, anything I should know about?”
Jackson leaned back into the Naugahyde upholstered bench. “Everything is going great, as you have seen during your short visits…” He cast her an accusing look. “The place is packed all the time. Your breakfast regulars were asking about you. They were worried that something happened to your dad, but I told them that you were taking him for some special treatment. Feel free to invent what it was. Gordon and Vlad and I have a good system in place, but we all need a break. This place is a slave camp.”
Guilt squeezed at Nathalie’s heart. It hadn’t been fair to the boys, expecting them to shoulder grownup responsibilities basically on their own. She knew exactly how all-consuming and exhausting running the café was.
“I’m so sorry I dumped it all on you guys, and I’m so grateful to you.” She pulled out the check she’d prepared for him from her pocket. “Here, a small token of gratitude. I’ll write two more for Vlad and Gordon.” She handed it to Jackson.
His eyes peeled wide as he unfolded it. “A thousand bucks? Are you nuts? That’s too much! I can’t take it.” He pushed it back to her.
Nathalie put her finger on it and slid it over toward Jackson. “Don’t argue, and take it. Did you buy that guitar of yours already?”
He glanced at the check. “I’ve put down a deposit, and the store owner is holding it for me.”
“Including this check, how much more do you need?”
“Just this week’s wages.”
“Then take another advance and go get your beauty.”
That was an offer Jackson couldn’t refuse. With a sigh he palmed the check, pulled out his wallet, and carefully slid it inside. “Thank you, Nathalie. You’re the best boss ever.”
“And you’re the best employee anyone could ever hope to find. You’re one of a kind.”
Andrew cleared his throat. “Are you guys done with that? Because I need to talk to you both.”
Nathalie lifted a brow. “About what?”
“Your work schedule from now on. You can’t put in twelve-hour workdays anymore, Nathalie. In fact, I don’t want you on your feet for more than four.”
Jackson’s eyes darted from her to Andrew and then back. “Are you sick, Nathalie? What’s going on?”
She smiled and patted his hand. “I’m not sick. I’m pregnant.”
He gasped. “Get out of here…when did that happen?”
Andrew cleared his throat again. “I want Nathalie to take it easy.”
“No problem. The guys will understand why a vacation is out for now.”
Guilt assailed her again. “Maybe we should hire another one of your friends. So you guys can take time off in turns.”
“It will have to be a mortal. All my immortal buddies are here.”
“Is it a problem?”
He shrugged. “Not really. We need to keep up appearances for the sake of the customers anyway.”
“Then it’s agreed.”
They shook on it.
Jackson pushed up from the bench. “Check your email, Nathalie. I forwarded to you the profit and loss figures for last month. I’m sure you’ll be happy to see how well the shop has done.”
Once again, the kid was exceeding her expectations. She hadn’t known he could do accounting. “Thank you, I will.”
The best part about Jackson organizing the numbers ahead of time was that it solved the problem of going over them while Andrew had other plans.
When Jackson left, she smiled sheepishly. “Well, I guess we have time now. I can look at what Jackson emailed me tomorrow.”
Andrew leaned and reached for her hand. “Are you looking forward to getting back to work?”
Was she?
“I am. It wasn’t exactly a vacation we were on. It was the most stressful time of my life. My old routine, mingling with my regulars, it will give me a sense of normality. I miss it.”
“How about being home? Are you happy to be back?”
“Frankly? Not as much as I thought I’d be. We were very comfortable at your sister’s penthouse. In comparison, this place feels more cramped and dingy than ever. And the upstairs smells like a bakery. I guess it takes being away for a while to notice it.” She shook her head. “Not pleasant, not at all.”
In the brief silence that followed, Andrew looked like he was choosing his words carefully, which wasn’t like him. Normally, he preferred the direct approach and didn’t beat around the bush even when discussing touchy subjects.
“I think we should move into the keep.” Evidently, he’d decided to stick to his blunt style.
God, did it sound tempting. “I can’t. You know my father needs his familiar environment. We’ve talked about it before.”
Andrew’s lips tightened in that determined expression he got when he thought she was unreasonably stubborn. “He seemed perfectly fine to me during his stay at the keep. In fact, I think he was happier there than I’ve ever seen him here. He had William and occasionally the Guardians to keep him company and occupy him with this and that. He had Okidu serving his every whim. Did he complain about anything?”
Not even once. “He thought we were on vacation.”
“So we keep telling him that. Or, if you want, you can take him with you when you go to work, and he can sit around here for a few hours. There are so many advantages to moving there, especially with regard to your father. In the keep, there is always someone who can watch him; if not William, then someone else. Even Okidu, or Onidu, Amanda’s butler.”
Nathalie pulled her hand out of his and raised her palms. “We can’t live with your sister and her husband. It was fun for a little while, but it can’t work as a permanent arrangement.”
“I’m sure Kian can find an apartment for us; if not in the same building, then in one of the neighboring ones. The clan owns half of the high-rises on the street.”
Yeah, and she could just imagine the rent—five thousand dollars minimum. Probably more. Those were luxury apartments for rich business people, not struggling coffee shop owners. True, thanks to Jackson and his crew she wasn’t struggling as much as befor
e, but she wasn’t wealthy. Not even close.
“We can’t afford a place like that.” She shushed Andrew when he opened his mouth to protest. She knew what he wanted to say. That he was earning a good income and that combining their resources would be enough to pay for a fancy place like that.
“You’re still making mortgage payments on your house, right? Can you afford rent that is probably over five grand a month? I know I can’t because I have to make mortgage payments on this place whether I live here or not.”
“So I sell my house. You’re right, the mortgage is eating a third of my monthly income, and without it I can afford the five thousand dollar rent on my own.”
She didn’t want Andrew to give up his house. He loved the place, even though he was spending hardly any time there. “Your house represents your biggest asset, and it doesn’t make financial sense to sell it. Besides, what if the rent is even more expensive than five grand? Can you afford it then?”
With an indulgent smile, Andrew shook his head. “Sweetheart, listen to yourself. You’re looking for all the excuses in the world why it can’t work instead of thinking of a way to make it work. Why?”
That was a dumb question. Because she was scared, that’s why. This was another big decision, another upheaval in her life that she wasn’t ready for. Couldn’t he allow her at least a few days to catch her breath?
She crossed her arms over her chest and pushed her chin out. “It’s a big decision, and I don’t want to rush into it. I’d rather play devil’s advocate and flush out all the possible problems.”
“You’re right. Let me put your mind at ease. Can you listen for a few moments without losing your cool?”
What cool? She’d lost hers a long time ago, when he’d been teetering between life and death, and she hadn’t regained it since. But she nodded, letting him speak his mind.
“Instead of selling my house, I can rent it out. And you can rent out the apartment over the shop as well. In fact, I suggest you offer it to Jackson and his friends. Boys their age crave independence. They are going to love it, provided it’s cheap of course.”
Nathalie wanted to argue, but there was nothing more to argue about. Everything he’d said was true and made perfect sense. Rationally, she knew that moving to the keep was a good decision, one that would improve their lives, even Papi’s. And yet, it was an extremely difficult step for her to take.
It meant taking for granted her new family’s willingness to help with her father. She found it hard to internalize that help was out there—offered with no strings attached, just from the goodness of people’s hearts.
It was true, though. She’d witnessed it herself. Even Bridget, who should’ve harbored some animosity toward Nathalie for stealing Andrew away from her, had been incredibly helpful and supportive. And William, who hardly knew her at all, was taking care of Papi as if he was actually enjoying it.
Andrew chuckled. “What? No rebuttals?”
Nathalie let her arms drop. “No. You won the argument. Let’s do it.”
Andrew lifted his arms, palms up. “Hallelujah, praise the Lord.”
“Shouldn’t it be, praise Nathalie?”
“Indeed it should.” Andrew got up and pulled her to her feet. “Let me take you upstairs and praise you until the angels sing. Correction, just one angel. My Nathalie.”
Chapter 22: Andrew
Everything was different at work. Andrew felt as if he’d been gone for a decade and not just a few days. The big office space he shared with four other agents looked and smelled different, the agents looked and smelled different, and so did he. Not the smell part, he’d gotten used to his own scent, but everyone noticed that he wasn’t the same.
Most of the guys just cast him surreptitious glances or told him that the time off had agreed with him, but at the end of the day his luck ran out. As he stepped out into the corridor and joined several others who were waiting for the elevators, Tim walked over.
“Are you wearing platforms, Spivak? Because I swear that you are taller than you were before your vacation.” Tim looked him over with the critical eye of an artist. “And take a look at this skin, baby soft.” He pinched Andrew’s cheek.
Andrew slapped the guy’s hand away. “If you value your fingers, buddy, keep your hands to yourself.”
The threat had been effective, and Tim stuck his hands in his pockets. As an artist, he needed his hands in good working condition and was obsessed with protecting them from harm.
“Have you gone to some rejuvenation spa? Because if you did, I want the name.”
That worked with the story Andrew had prepared in case anyone inquired about the changes he’d undergone. “Yeah, exactly. It was a gift from my fiancée. Massages all day long, and spinal realignment. Apparently, my poor posture made me look shorter than I actually was.”
Tim’s eyes narrowed into slits. “What are you talking about? You always had fantastic posture, Spivak.”
Damn Tim and his sharp observation skills.
“I kept my shoulders squared, an old habit from my time as a Marine, but according to the chiropractor, the vertebrae in my lower back were compressed.”
That bull-crap answer seemed to satisfy Tim. “I want the name and phone number of that spa. That’s my destination for my next vacation. If they can make me look taller, I don’t care how much it costs.”
“I’ll have to ask Nathalie. It was some weird French name I can’t even pronounce.”
“Thanks.”
“See you later, Tim.”
As soon as Tim walked away, Andrew released a breath. The problem with lies was that they usually meant more lies. Now he’d have to come up with a story about the nonexistent spa burning down to the ground or some other shit like that.
The elevator door opened and he stepped in, pressed the button for his parking level, and leaned against the mirrored back wall. The car made its way down, stopping at nearly every floor. People were going home. Most he knew in passing, a few he nodded hello to. Then as the doors opened at the gym level, he saw someone he actually wanted to talk to.
Roni, the hacker, was outside in the hallway, waiting for the elevator going up.
Andrew stepped out. “Hey, Roni, how are things going for you? You look good, kid.”
He wasn’t lying. Since Andrew had last seen him, Roni must’ve been working out vigorously. His arms looked a little less scrawny, and he was standing tall instead of hunching over.
The kid grinned. “I asked for a personal trainer, and the boss assigned me one. The guy tortures me every day, but if I look good, then it’s worth it.”
“You do. And I’m not saying it just because I need another favor.”
“What is it?”
“Just one more check up on the same thing. I need to know when was the last time she made a withdrawal. My friend is heading out there, and it will make his life easier if he knows when to stake out that bank.”
“No problem. I’m glad to help.” Roni transferred his gym bag to his other hand.
That had been too easy. Roni wasn’t the type to offer something for nothing.
“I need a favor too,” Roni murmured while looking down at his sneakers.
Here it goes. “What is it?”
“Can you hook me up with Sylvia again?”
Right.
Andrew leaned and whispered in Roni’s ear, “That was a one-time deal. I’m not a pimp.”
“No, not like that. I mean, only if she wants to. I don’t have her number, and she doesn’t have mine. So maybe there is a chance she would like to see me again? Like for coffee or something?”
There was so much hope in the kid’s voice that Andrew hated to disappoint him. There was probably no chance in hell Sylvia wanted to have another go at the geeky kid with an attitude. It would be futile and embarrassing, but he was going ask.
“Are you allowed to leave? Or are you still confined to this building?”
“I can meet her for dinner or a coffee shop. My handler
will have to be there, of course, but he’ll give me space if I’m with a girl. He’s a decent dude.”
Andrew clapped Roni on the shoulder. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll call her tonight, and if she is agreeable, I’ll set up a time and a place for you to meet the following day. Good?”
Roni looked as if he’d just won the lottery. “It’s better than good. Thank you. And I’ll check on your lady friend and her visits to the bank.”
“Good deal.” They shook on it, parting when Roni stepped into the cab going up.
Andrew called Sylvia as soon as he cleared the parking garage and got reception.
She shocked him. “Sure, I will be happy to see Roni. I was wondering why he didn’t ask for me. The poor kid desperately needs a friend. I’ll text you the details of a place I like.”
Sylvia was genuinely interested in meeting freaking Roni again, so much so that even over the phone Andrew had no doubt she was truthful.
“You’re awesome. Text me the time too.”
“I will. Thank you, Andrew. It was a nice thing to do.”
Not really, but whatever. He would let her think he had done it out of the goodness of his heart.
As Sylvia terminated the call, another one came in. Andrew smiled at the gorgeous face staring at him from the screen and accepted it. “Hello, sweetheart, I’m on my way home.”
“That’s great because we need to be at Dalhu’s in less than an hour.”
Fuck, he’d forgotten all about it. “Do I have to dress up?”
“Of course, you do. I want us looking our best.”
“We didn’t buy a new suit.”
Nathalie sighed. “I know you’re going to hate it, but we need to borrow one from Kian. There is no time to go shopping, and your old one doesn’t fit. I’m going to call Syssi right now, and have her bring one to Amanda and Dalhu’s place.”
“Fine.” Andrew really hated borrowing clothes from his brother-in-law.
When he got home, Andrew grabbed a quick shower and even let Nathalie gel his hair into place. “I look like a gangster from the thirties,” he said once she was done fussing with it. “And I’m packing too.” He glanced down at the bulge in his pants.
