Hearts of Jade (A Hidden Hearts Novel Book 3)

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Hearts of Jade (A Hidden Hearts Novel Book 3) Page 12

by Mary Crawford


  “Uh-oh,” I breathe under my breath, while hanging on to every word of her story.

  She catches my unspoken question as she responds, “Uh-oh is right. I had to come face-to-face with the realization that somehow I had fallen head over heels in love with the kid next door. A guy who in many ways was my polar opposite. He was charming and outgoing — never knew a stranger in his whole life. Here I was afraid to talk to the priest in confessional because he was somebody I didn’t know.”

  “Mom, I find that so hard to believe, you deal with customers every single day. I’ve never seen you not interact with them. You are like the grand hostess of all the car dealerships. All those huge parties you throw at Christmas time… how do you do it if you’re so shy?” Declan asks, completely incredulous.

  “It’s funny to me that of all my children, you are the one to ask that question, because you are the one who is most like me. When you were little and I took you to music lessons, I used to have to bribe you with cookies and candy to get you to perform in front of your piano teacher. You were so shy, I wasn’t even sure you were going to be able to complete your lessons.”

  “Declan was shy?” I inquire, sure I misunderstood. “He performs in front of hundreds of people a week now. I can’t imagine a day that he was ever shy.”

  “It’s true. I think that Connor rubbed off on both of us. He used to make you practice talking to the salespeople like they were customers.”

  Declan chuckles as he comments, “That I do remember. I don’t remember ever being shy around music though, I remember it being an escape for me and a feeling of freedom, but I don’t remember being scared of performing. I must’ve gotten over that feeling when I was pretty young.”

  Finn looks at Rowan and rolls his eyes as he says, “Can you believe he doesn’t remember beating the pants off me in the elementary school talent show after I practiced my magic act for six months?”

  The look of astonishment on Declan’s face is priceless as he responds, “No, I don’t remember that. Tell me you’re kidding.”

  Everyone in the room shakes their head as Claire pipes up, “You were phenomenal. The newspaper even came out and took pictures of you. They said that you were like a young Donny Osmond or Michael Jackson. It was as if you were some child prodigy but it was too much too soon. You were only about six or seven. Unfortunately, the cameras freaked you out, and you didn’t want to come out of your room for almost a month after that. We couldn’t do anything to help — you just stopped singing for a while. You started helping your dad more at the lots. You started detailing all the cars and would only sing in the cars if no one was around. Other than that, no one was able to hear you for two or three years. You just wrote songs by yourself and then performed them in the privacy of your room or on the shop floor in the locked car. You used to use your stereo and your little electric keyboard to make little recordings. You never showed anybody. One time, I accidentally got to hear one because I needed to borrow the tape recorder for an important meeting, and you’d left one behind. I kept it and played it for myself; it kept me company for years after you left home. Unfortunately, it broke a few months ago so I didn’t have anything left of you after that. It made me really sad.”

  “Mrs. Ailín, did you know that Declan is all over YouTube?” I openly brag. “He is getting to be a pretty famous street performer. There are videos of him pretty much everywhere. Would you like me to send you the links? I have them saved in my phone. One of my favorite videos of him is an acoustic guitar concert he did after the Boston bombings.”

  “Please call me Claire; when you call me Mrs. Ailín, I feel like I need to start looking around for my mother-in-law. I can’t believe that I didn’t think to look on YouTube for Declan’s music — everything else is on the Internet. We use it for all of our banking stuff at the dealerships. We even have our own little virtual assistants on the website now. They help our customers navigate through new cars and to get set up to take a test drive. Finding his songs should be easier than that, right?”

  I have to smile at her technology phobia, it reminds me so much of Marcus because he freezes up at the very thought of having to touch the computer. The online appointment system we have is enough to induce a panic attack. “I’ll be happy to show you how it works,” I offer. “Declan even has an unofficial fan page.”

  All of a sudden Mr. Ailín’s eyes pop open and I’m looking into hazel eyes just like Declan’s as he whispers in a raspy voice, “‘Bout time my boy sang a new song. Damn tired of that old one.”

  WHOEVER SAID YOU CAN’T GO back home clearly hasn’t met my mom. I swear she kept my pajamas from ten years ago. Jade won huge brownie points from me when she gracefully accepted them and then went about quietly exchanging them. She scoured the Internet until she found a nearly identical pair in my size that was not riddled with moth holes. She paid an ungodly amount of postage to have them shipped overnight. Many things have changed since I was home. Jade and I are now staying in the little in-law cottage behind the house where my grandparents used to live. Jade has been helping cook meals and do laundry while my mom is at the hospital with dad.

  In the meantime, I’ve been going to work with Rowan and Finn. Although the art of the sale remains much the same, the technology involved in each car is much different. When I left the business a few years ago, only the top-of-the-line cars had anything resembling navigation systems and emergency communication systems in them, now all that seems almost like standard equipment. Now people expect to have features like backup cameras and cars that park themselves during parallel parking. It’s a whole new technology gamut that I’m not overly familiar with because my own car is several years old. I’m worse than a green-horn salesperson, because I really should know this stuff.

  I cringe as the well-dressed businesswoman that I’m assisting has to plug her ears when the panic button goes off on the car that I’m showing her as I try to disengage the door locks. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. I’m not very familiar with this model, this is more my dad’s game. I deeply apologize. I am still trying to get familiar with all the buttons. I must’ve made a mistake; give me a moment to figure it out, please.”

  The woman gives a snort of laughter and then giggles uncontrollably, holding her side. Finn stalks over to investigate the situation, glaring at me over the woman’s head.

  “Is there a problem here?” he demands, shooting me a withering glance as he yanks the keys out of my hands and shuts the alarm off. He turns to the woman and says, “I’m sorry, we don’t usually hire such incompetent people but there has been a family emergency.”

  The woman shakes her head violently as she counters, “Oh no, I don’t think he’s incompetent. I think he’s honest. I always get intimidated by salespeople who know how to operate every bell and whistle on a car from the get-go. I’m always afraid that I’ll never understand how to use it as well as they do and I’ll never figure out how to get out of my mess. I thought it was perfect that this young man had the same kind of difficulties I have when I get a new car. I can never figure out how to turn off all the strange buzzing, beeping and screeching. The fact that he had problems too made me feel so much better about it.”

  Finn fiddles with some more settings in the car and shoots me a dirty look as he says, “I’m sorry my brother made it seem so complicated, it’s really pretty simple.”

  The woman seems befuddled as she asks, “Would it be possible for me to take a test drive?”

  Finn grins widely as he responds, “Certainly, where would you like me to take you?” He sticks the key into the ignition and revs the engine.

  The customer nervously gazes back-and-forth between us as she comments, “If it’s all the same to you, I think I would rather ride with him.”

  It takes all of the skills that I’ve learned over almost a decade of performing on stage for me not to actively gloat in my brother’s face. “That would be perfectly fine, let me go grab a set of dealer plates for this. I’ll be right back,” I say a
s I duck into the little sales office.

  As we pull off of the lot and around the corner, I trade places with the customer whose name I’ve learned is Juliet. Finn is not fond of this tactic; he thinks that it opens the car lot up to too much liability. I think that it’s just good business. How is a customer supposed to know if they want to own the car if they are just watching someone else drive it?

  As I hand her the keys, she quips, “Whoops, I guess we better be careful not to set anything off. We would probably give your brother an aneurysm.”

  The corner of my mouth hitches up in a half smile as I remark, “Most people don’t guess that we’re brothers because we don’t look much alike.”

  “He talks just like a big brother and your smiles are virtually identical. I wouldn’t worry too much about his bluster. I actually feel more comfortable with you. If anything, you earned the sale today, not him.”

  I blush a little as I respond, “Thank you, I guess. Cars aren’t really my thing. I’m just filling in while my dad recovers. It seems like I make a mess of things more than I actually help.”

  “Are you kidding? You are the only person that I have dealt with on four car lots who didn’t treat me like a ditzy blonde when I had questions. Normally if I want to ask about the different engine types or exhaust systems, the sales people will try to divert my attention to the pretty leather seats or the Bluetooth sound system. Although those things are nice, it won’t tell me what my gas mileage will be like when I commute to work,” Juliet explains as she signals and turns the car back into the car lot. “I just wanted a few basic questions answered so that I could make an informed decision. You would be amazed by how remarkably difficult it is to get someone to look me in the eyes and give me a few concrete answers about cars. Thank you for taking the time to treat me like a regular human being.”

  Juliet’s answer takes me by surprise. I knew that that’s what the attitudes were several years ago when my grandma tried to buy a car, but I had no idea that things were still that way. Not knowing exactly what to say, I merely shrug and remark, “I just did my best to answer your questions, I’m sorry I’m not as knowledgeable about cars as my brothers. If you need more precise details, I can get Rowan or Finn to provide them.”

  Juliet smiles widely as she responds, “No, I think I have every thing that I need. This car runs nicely and has a great deal of get-up-and-go. It has all the things that I’m looking for. I’m going to get it. I’m also going to make sure that whoever your boss is knows that you are the reason I chose to get it from Stone Central Motors.”

  “I appreciate that very much, but after my performance today, Finn is going to think I coerced you into saying that. He’ll probably believe that I promised you a special discount or something,” I joke with a wink.

  When I direct her to park next to the service bay, Rowan catches the interaction. He scowls at me before he opens the door and mutters under his breath, “You can’t help but flirt with the ladies, can you?” His voice was quiet, but not quiet enough because Juliet starts to laugh.

  Juliet raises her eyebrow at me as she asks, “I take it this is another brother?”

  I nod as I reply, “This one is the younger brother, Rowan.”

  She gives him a brief appraisal as she shrugs and says, “Hmm, too bad. He’s cute.”

  Rowan flushes red and then starts to stammer out a response, “Excuse me? Did you just size me up and dismiss me without giving me a chance to say anything?”

  Juliet shrugs as she answers, “Pretty much. Sucks to be you, huh?”

  Rowan opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out before Juliet resumes talking to me.

  “Declan, I want to buy this car, but I’m in the process of moving. My company is opening a field office in Jacksonville so I’m commuting down to Cape Canaveral at the moment. I don’t really need to take an extra car. Can you guys hold onto it for an extra week until I can get stuff situated?”

  “Wow, that’s quite a commute. You must really love your job.”

  “Trust me, I do,” she responds with a wide grin.

  “Where do you work?” I ask

  “I’m not really at liberty to say, but you’ve probably seen my company discussed widely on the news, sometimes more than we’d like. Think young, curious billionaire who wants to see tourists in space.”

  “Wow, are you his personal assistant or something?” Rowan asks.

  “No, you couldn’t pay me enough money to manage that side of him. I’m just your average, everyday rocket scientist.”

  At least this time, Rowan had the good sense to shut his mouth and leave it that way.

  My dad looks completely exhausted. I haven’t seen him look this bad since he was training for the charity boxing match to benefit the Catholic Children’s League, way back when I was a teenager. This cardiac boot camp that they have him participating in is really intense. Apparently the doctors told my parents that this is the best way to get my dad back on his feet. He is complying with the doctor’s orders this time, but he is not happy about it.

  At the moment, Finn and I are trying to keep him distracted and entertained with a halfhearted round of gin rummy. However, I think it’s a pretty epic fail on all fronts. It’s neither exciting nor distracting. The only person distracted is me. My dad throws a playing card at me to get my attention.

  “You been smoking those funny cigarettes while you were away? You can’t pay attention worth a damn anymore,” my dad observes.

  “No, I just have a bunch of stuff on my mind,” I answer, as I pick the card up and shuffle it back into the deck.

  “You think you have a lot of stuff on your mind, the doctor just told me how long he wants me off of work and it’s about ten times longer than I figured. I thought that they’d clean out all the gunk in my pipes and I could just go back to work, but they want me to do all this rehab stuff, stress management and diet changes. Hell, they’ve got me going to the doctor every single, stupid day.”

  “Dad, you came precariously close to talking to St. Peter at the pearly gates, you get that, right” I say with more agitation than I intend to.

  “Great job, Declan!” scoffs Finn. “The doctors want us to reduce Dad’s stress, not add to it.”

  “Sorry, just trying to be real,” I argue. “This was pretty dangerous.”

  “Don’t you guys think I know that?” my dad counters, “It was my chest that was split wide open. I can’t take a deep breath without a tangible reminder that I might die with my next breath — which is why I need to ask you a favor, Declan.”

  My heart drops to the soles of my feet. To say this is out of character for my dad is not only the understatement of the day, it is the understatement of the millennium. My dad and I are as different as day and night, oil and water, up and down, forwards and backwards — well, you get the picture. As much as I have always tried to win his favor, I am not like Finn. I don’t seem to have the ability to think along the same lines as my dad. It’s as if our brains operate differently. If you gave us identical puzzles, we would solve them differently. Hell, we might even see two completely separate pictures. I can’t remember a time ever in my life that my dad has openly asked for a favor. If he ever allowed me to work with him, it was usually to teach me some sort of deep life lesson. You know, like my mom was telling Jade about overcoming my reluctance to interact with people or my shyness about being put on the spot. I don’t really have any idea what he’s going to ask me, but the very thought of it makes me want to bolt. I really could use Jade’s calming influence right about now, but unfortunately she and my mom are out grocery shopping for a big dinner that my mom is planning for whenever Dad gets out of the rehab center.

  My dad drills me with an impatient look as he asks, “Hell son, I’m in the middle of talking to you — where did you go this time?”

  “I guess I’m just trying to figure out what kind of favor you need from me that Finn and Rowan couldn’t do better. They tend to be your go-to-guys. I’m a little out
of the loop,” I suggest. “Actually, you and I have never truly been in the same loop,” I admit with a shrug.

  “Finn tells me that you were responsible for selling a rig today that’s sat on our lot for a while. Nobody wanted that thing. It was too sensible to be sporty and had too many bells and whistles to be sensible. I don’t know why the manufacturer sent it out to us bundled that way, I guess they just wanted to show everything that was possible, but I had a tough time with that one. Finn said you handled the situation well and reeled in a tough customer.”

  Honestly, I’m about to pass out from shock. There wasn’t anything that Finn did today to indicate that he was at all happy with anything I did all day. If I had to guess, I guessed that he wanted to fire me on the spot. This is a revelation that I was not expecting; even if he was proud of the job that I did, I didn’t anticipate that he would tell Dad about it.

  “Juliet was a really nice customer, she was just rattled from the way she had been treated at other car lots. I think the fact that I was a little rusty and my sales pitch was a little uneven actually made her feel a little more comfortable,” I explain.

  “Whatever you did, it worked perfectly. She ordered upgraded tires, a clear-coat for the car and full warranty. We couldn’t have asked for anything more,” interjects Finn.

 

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