by Jamie Pope
* * *
An hour later Tanner entered his house. Actually it wasn’t his house. It was the home of his grandparents. Naval captain turned senator Bryce Edmonds and his wife, Mariam. The oceanfront estate was actually their vacation home. Their third and rarely used home. They spent most of their time in Washington, D.C. When they weren’t there, they lived in a multimillion-dollar condo in Boston. The house had been without a visit from its owners in nearly two years before he came to stay there. He had spent summers there as a kid. They were good summers. Little blissful escapes from his parents and their turbulence. Tanner was born into one of the oldest and wealthiest families in the United States. His grandmother boasted that they could trace their lineage back to The Mayflower. Tanner was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and was educated at the most exclusive private schools, had experienced the best money could bring him, but walking into this house, with its five bedrooms and indoor pool, he felt he didn’t belong there.
It could have been the six tours of duty he had done in the most dangerous parts of the world. It could have been that he was so used to the simplicity of life on base that all this seemed incredibly extravagant and unnecessary. But he had always felt out of place in this world. In the schools he attended. With the friends he had. Even within his own family. He didn’t feel connected to them at all. He didn’t feel connected to anything.
It had become ever worse after the accident. Not even the army felt like home anymore.
He walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, remembering that he was supposed to go to the store after his haircut. The chore had flown right out of his mind.
Damn, Nova.
He wasn’t sure what the hell she was trying to pull in that shop. Touching him like that. Kissing the side of his face. Pressing her hot little body against his like she wanted him.
And then she pushed him away. Made him stay to get his haircut. And it just wasn’t a regular haircut like he got in the army. There was no quick buzz to his head. She touched him. Her fingers brushed the sides of his neck. Her hands cupped his cheek as she studied her work. She stayed close to him the entire time and it drove him insane.
It was a great haircut and what made everything worse was that she wouldn’t let him pay for it. She even sent him home with shampoo. She was a single mother with a kid. He was a grown man who never spent the money he earned and had an unlimited supply of money he didn’t.
Not that Nova knew anything about that. No one knew he was the grandson of a senator. That his father was a giant in real estate. Even his maternal grandmother was from old money.
In his family, money married money. No question about it. He was thirty-four. Married to no one, not even his career, and wealth was the farthest thing from his mind.
He dug through the freezer, finding a pan of something that Wylie’s wife had made for him a few weeks ago, and put it in the oven. He smiled as he thought about Cass. She was a sweet, gentle woman, who loved his best friend.
Wylie was like Tanner. Battle scarred and hardened, but Wylie had found Cass again and he came alive.
Tanner never thought he would get married, but if he ever did, he would want his bride to be someone like Cassandra. A sweet, pretty, former schoolteacher, who loved to take care of people and openly showed affection.
But he knew himself too well. A woman like Cassandra would bore him after a while. He wasn’t used to sweet. He was used to explosions, and jumping out of planes and being in fear of his life every day, and that’s why he was so damn attracted to Nova.
She was all of those things wrapped up in one beautiful creature. He sat down at the kitchen table with his laptop while he waited for his food to heat up. He was still signed in to his video chat and not four minutes into his e-mail check he saw that his grandfather was requesting to chat with him.
He sighed. He didn’t want to speak with his grandfather tonight. He never liked to talk to him, but he respected the man and he knew that he was probably the only person in his family who truly cared about him.
He accepted his request. “Hello, Captain.”
“Hello, Sergeant Major.”
They always addressed each other by rank. His grandfather was a naval officer and Tanner was an army man, but the military was the thing they had in common. A love of serving. He never thought they would have this. His grandfather was the one who blackmailed him into service nearly fifteen years ago. At the time he thought he could never forgive him for that.
Maybe he still hadn’t forgiven him for that, but his grandfather had been right. Joining the army had saved his life. He wouldn’t have made it to twenty-one without it.
“You’ve gotten a haircut.” His grandfather nodded in approval. He sat behind his giant cherry oak desk. He had been retired from the navy for many years, but he still carried himself as an active officer, his bearing straight, his presence large even through a computer screen.
“Just a few minutes ago. Wylie’s sister cut it for me.” He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to give that last detail. Maybe because Nova still hadn’t left his thoughts or maybe it was because conversation with his grandfather was always so damn strained.
“Ah, yes.” He nodded. “She did the hair and makeup for our friend’s daughter’s wedding.”
“You keep up with the stylists of Martha’s Vineyard, Captain?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, son. Your grandmother told me. Apparently she is quite talented. You’ve met Johnson’s daughter. She’s a lovely girl, but she wasn’t blessed the way some other women are. Apparently Nova transformed her, or so your grandmother says.”
“You’re being quite politically correct, Senator. I believe I once heard you say that the girl has a face as pretty as a sack of old shoes.”
His grandfather revealed a rare grin. “I don’t say such things . . . anymore.”
Tanner grinned back, but then a silence fell between them again. Things should be easier between them. But there was always some kind of thick but invisible wall up between them. He couldn’t figure out why that was. It’s not like his grandfather ever tried to keep him at a distance. If anything, he tried too hard to be in his life when he was a kid. But there was something there. With his grandmother, too. Something they were holding back.
“Was there something you wanted to speak to me about, sir?”
“I just wanted to know if you had heard from your mother. From either of your parents.”
“I think you already know the answer to that question.”
His nostrils flared a bit, a sure sign that he was annoyed, but Tanner knew that his grandfather’s annoyance wasn’t directed toward him. “I find your mother exasperating to say the least. This news should come from her.”
“What’s wrong?” Uneasiness spread through him. He wasn’t close to his parents. Most of the time he was fairly certain that neither one of them cared if he lived or died, but he didn’t like the thought of something being wrong with either of them. He didn’t want them to be sick, and it was for selfish reasons. Because then he would be forced to make some kind of push in their relationship. To make amends or just resolve some of the shit that was left floating between them.
“I feel like it will only make the news seem worse if it comes from me.”
“You can’t tell me there is something wrong and then refuse to tell me what it is. If my parents didn’t call me, then it must be something they don’t want me to know.”
“Everyone will know eventually. It will be a matter of public record.”
“What will?”
“They are getting divorced.”
Tanner threw back his head and laughed loudly.
“Is that funny, Sergeant Major?”
“Of course it is, sir. They have been married nearly forty years and have one of the worst marriages in the history of marriages. Divorce was created for people like them.”
“Your mother wants to remarry. He’s a sculptor. She met him in Italy.”
“Sh
e’s a walking cliché. Let me guess. He’s younger and has exotic good looks.”
“Your mother has always had a taste for good-looking ethnic men. I would say men like that are exclusively her preference.”
“Maybe she should have just married one of those men in the first place. I think she would have been much happier.”
His grandfather opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He was stopping himself again.
“What is it, sir?”
“Nothing. It’s just that I agree with you. I think she would have been much happier, if she had followed her heart thirty-five years ago. I’ve got to go, son. Speak to you soon.”
His grandfather disconnected, leaving Tanner confused. His parents were married for forty years. What that hell was his grandfather talking about?
Chapter 3
Nova wiped down the counters of the diner as she glanced at the group of guys sitting in the booth in the corner. It had been a slow night. Her manager told her that she could go home but she decided to stay. She was renting a room in a rundown motel with dingy décor and shitty, paper-thin walls. She’d much rather stay at work in the gleaming fifties-style diner. She had lied about her age when she applied, assuring the manager that she could work as many hours as he could possibly give her.
Her twelve-hour days there gave her the opportunity to observe a lot of people. Families on vacations. College kids down for a weekend of fun. It made her sad seeing those people. It made her think about the life she could have had. It made her think about the life she had run from three months ago. She was careful to watch her back, to listen for any signs that the cops were looking for her. But there were none. She had gone to the library and searched on the Internet for news in her former town. No murder had been reported. No assault charges had been filed yet. It made her want to call her mother and ask her what had happened after she hadleft. But she could never bring herself to dial the number. More than she was afraid of being found, she was afraid of finding out what became of her mother.
With nobody left there to protect her, to take care of her, how long could she possibly survive?
“Hey, gorgeous,” a guy, maybe a few years older than her, said as he walked up to the counter. He was with the group who had been sitting in the booth for the past couple of hours. She had seen him a few times before and always took note of him. He was unlike anyone she had ever seen before, except on Martha’s Vineyard in her father’s tribe. “Can I get a chocolate milkshake?”
“You sure can.” She felt shy around him. He was beautiful with long black hair and a slender, but hard body. “My manager is going to start kicking you all out if you don’t keep ordering.”
“They wanted to go hours ago, but I’m making them stay.”
“Really?” She knew he had been the leader of the group as soon as they walked in. He wasn’t the biggest one, but he had the most presence and a bad-boy gleam in his eye that she knew was trouble. “Why can’t they go?”
“Because I wanted to stay and talk to you.” She had been hit on before there; in fact, not a day went by when she wasn’t, but this time she was flattered. She had been lonely these past few months. She had her coworkers, but she needed a friend.
“Why would you want to talk to me?”
“Because you are the sexiest thing I have ever seen in that uniform,” he said as his eyes passed over her slowly. “You’re Native, right?”
“Yes,” she admitted. She had never spoken to another Native person outside of her family and even then she had spent so little time with them.
“Where are your people?”
“Up north.”
“You’re here alone?” He took a little more interest in that than she had expected.
“There are more jobs here.”
“And yet you’re working in a shitty diner. You don’t have to, you know. There are plenty of ways for a pretty girl like you to make ends meet around here.”
She had been approached before by men. They offered her a few extra dollars to come home with them. They always seemed to know a great club where she could become a star. “I’m not a whore or a stripper, so you can fuck off.”
She turned away from him, but he grabbed her wrist, which caused a visceral reaction in her. She still remembered the way it felt when Archie had grabbed her, how violated she had felt.
The guy dropped her hand as soon as she raised her fist. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean anything by it. I was suggesting that you need a man to do right by you, to take care of you.”
It was foolish, but it sounded nice. She’d never had that. She had lived her entire life knowing that she would never have anyone to depend on but herself. “Who exactly is going to take care of me?”
He stood up straight and smiled. It was one of those too-charming smiles, the type that men who were up to no good excelled at. “I’m here for that job. My name is Elijah. I’m at your service.” He extended his hand.
She shook it, knowing that she shouldn’t engage, but her lonely heart wouldn’t stop her. “I’m Nova.”
“Nova.” He nodded. “What’s a man got to do to get you on a date?”
* * *
A week later Nova crept into Teo’s bedroom at Mansi’s house. She had just come home from doing the biggest styling job of her life. For the past year, her profile as a stylist on the island had been growing steadily.
It had all started with one wedding. Something she had taken on for extra money when the original stylist from New York had canceled. She had no idea that that wedding was for a congressman’s daughter, but the family had liked her work so much that they recommended her to their friend, who asked if she would do the hair and makeup for their wedding, too. And then word of mouth spread and she was the stylist to come to if you were getting married on Martha’s Vineyard.
She felt kind of funny being around all those fancy ultrarich people. They were kind to her. They tipped her well, but she felt incredibly out of place when she was with them. Even though she knew she was the hired help, she still felt like a fraud. She had to make sure she spoke properly, that she kept her voice quiet. She wore her hair up in a tight bun. She wore lighter lipstick and looser fitting clothes, trying not to draw any attention to herself, trying not to give them any clue that she as uneducated as they came, the child of a drunk, the ex-wife of a degenerate. They were all so educated. She overheard them talking about their days at Emerson, and Yale. The yachts they traveled on. The only boat she had ever been on was the ferry that shuttled them off and on the island. They wore fifty-thousand-dollar wedding gowns. Ate world-class chef-prepared lobster entrées. Her wedding gown had been a T-shirt and a pair of ratty jeans. She had been married at the courthouse and had fast-food hamburgers for dinner.
Her son, however, was going to have it better than she had. She had been stockpiling money for his education. She wanted him to have the best. She wanted him to have every opportunity there was, and the only way she could do that was to agree to these gigs. Her goal was to get off the island. Get to Boston and into a high-end salon there. She could still do events on nights and weekends so she could afford to get Teo into one of those nice private schools. That’s where the connections were made. He was a smart kid. He could adapt. He made friends easily. He could go far. He could be the lawyer or doctor that she had once dreamed of being. He could go to college and live in a dorm like she had always wanted to.
He would never have to wait tables in a shitty diner, or sweep up someone’s hair, or put up with some asshole’s abuse just to keep a roof over his head. She was going to give him what her mother couldn’t give her.
A chance.
She knelt on the bed lightly, trying not to wake him up, but as soon as her knees touched the bed he turned to face her. “Mommy, you came back.”
She nodded and lightly set her hand on his hair. She set her other hand on her stomach as a funny feeling churned inside of it. It was guilt. She had left him with Mansi so often. While she went t
o beauty school, when she was working, at nights when she was too caught up in her dark side and didn’t trust herself to be alone with him. He was waiting for the day that she wasn’t coming back for him. Her mother had done that to her once. She had been gone for three days, but Nova was thirteen then. And she still had been terrified. No five-year-old should have to fear the same thing.
“I’m not going to leave you, Teo,” she said softly as she lay down next to him.
“Uncle Wylie told Aunt Cass that you wanted to go live in Boston.”
“I want to work there, but I would take you with me. I can’t leave you behind. I would be too sad.”
“But what about Mansi?” he asked seriously. It was a very good question. Her grandmother was elderly, but by no means frail. She still drove. She did all her own shopping. She still was sharp as hell. But what would life be like without her in it every day? Wylie was still there. Their village would always make sure that she was okay, but how would Teo be without her? How would Nova be without her?
“I don’t think Mansi wants to leave her home. This place is very special. Uncle Wylie built it for her.”
“But what about Uncle Wylie? He’s going to be a daddy soon. I want to be here when the baby comes. If we go to Boston we can’t have man day anymore.”
“Not all the time. But Boston isn’t so far away from here. You’ll see him a lot if we go.”
“And Aunt Cass is your best friend. She said you’re going to be the godmother to her baby. You can’t leave her before that.”
“We will be here for the baby. I promise you that. Boston was just something I was thinking about. I want to send you to a good school, and all the best ones are there.”
He didn’t look convinced. “Mr. Tanner told me he went to school in Boston. He told me he had to wear a uniform. He hated it.”
“Did he?” She found herself grinning at the thought of Tanner. “For a man who doesn’t like uniforms, he spent his entire army career in one.”
“He said they made him wear a tie. He don’t like wearing ties, Mommy.”
“No. I guess not. When did he tell you all this?”
