Lost Love Found

by Kay Lyons

  "Then she gets closure. Max, what if her father lied to get her to submit to his wishes? What if Akihiro is alive and we can find him for her?"

  "To what end? They're in their nineties, for God's sake."

  "Oh, please. Your grandmother may be ninety-four but she's sharp as a tack and you know it. Max, they were in love. Surely that means something?"

  "They had raging teenage hormones."

  "Teenage hormones don't last seventy-nine years. It was real. The kind of love that everyone hopes to find but so few do."

  "You did, from what Nan said. Can't be that unique."

  She flinched at his comment and the sight made him regret the pettiness of his words. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

  "No, you shouldn't have. But she is right about one thing. I understand why this is so important to her. If Akihiro is alive, how can you deny her what may be her last chance to see him? To stare into his eyes and just… love… one last time?"

  "And if there is a Mrs. Tadashi?"

  "Well, like you said, they're in their nineties."

  Max lifted his hand and ran it roughly over his face, surrounded by the scent of a woman he barely knew and yet felt oddly connected to. Would he be as fascinated by Holland in seventy-nine years? Or would she be a memory of someone he once knew? When he was Nan's age, would he think the same of Holland?

  "Max, it's just an internet search. You can think about it over dinner."

  Dinner. A wry smile formed. "You're trying to distract me and bring me over to your way of thinking. It's a good negotiation tactic."

  "Will it work?"

  He lifted his hand and brushed a tendril of hair behind her ear, using the opportunity to run his knuckles over her soft cheek. "Depends on how well you negotiate over dinner."

  Chapter 6

  Holland excused herself to get ready for their dinner. He wanted to go to her favorite place so… that's exactly where they'd go.

  Would he hate it?

  She paused on her way to the closet, wondering if she needed to take a few minutes to finally do that internet search on Max. But it wasn't like a search would tell her what she wanted to know about him. Like what was his family like? Did he have siblings? They'd talked about her family during breakfast but the conversation was decidedly one-sided.

  She continued on to the closet, feeling like Goldilocks when she perused the clothing she'd packed. Too little? Too much? What would be just right to wear to dinner with a billionaire currently angry with her for siding with his grandmother's plan to find her lost love? Would she be able to convince Max that helping Violet was simply the right thing to do?

  Depends on how well you negotiate over dinner.

  A shiver coursed through her at the memory of his words and the look in his dark green gaze as he'd stared down at her. Her instincts told her she wasn't the only one intrigued.

  She settled on a pair of gray skinny jeans that hugged her hips, low-heeled black booties, and an off-white blouse that brought out her eyes. On top of that, she'd add a black leather jacket to ward off the nighttime chill.

  Her phone chimed and she glanced at the screen, shaking her head as she always did because Ireland seemed to have some sort of sixth sense when it came to her personal life.

  Hey. News from you?

  Found a secret compartment in the desk that's being donated to the auction so my mystery-solving alter ego got to play Nancy Drew.

  Fun! Are you staying in? Dom is in Atlanta and I'm feeling lonely.

  Yeah. Sorry. Londy or Frankie?

  Busy. Sigh. Guess it's me and a movie.

  Holland lifted her thumbs, wanting so badly to confide in Ireland about her dinner plans but knowing she shouldn't or else she'd risk a slew of more questions. Enjoy, she typed before setting the phone aside to finish her makeup.

  Ireland's text had been a nice distraction from the nerves beginning to creep up, and once she finished her makeup, she donned the jacket and grabbed her phone and purse before heading toward the door.

  She was a smart, capable, attractive woman. Dinner with a gorgeous billionaire? Pfffft. She had this.

  Holland left her bedroom and moved down the hallway toward the stairs when a door opened down the hall. Max emerged, looking handsome as ever in dark-washed jeans and a dark burgundy pullover. He carried his jacket in his hand and paused when he spotted her, his gaze sweeping over her from head to booties and back up again. Lingering.

  "You look beautiful."

  "Thank you. Are you ready to go?"

  "Yeah. But I'll need directions or an address."

  She shook her head. "I'll drive us."

  Max's gaze narrowed on her and she shrugged. "I lost the bet. I know the way. Why not?"

  "Why not, indeed? After you."

  * * *

  The light scent of Holland's perfume teased Max's senses during the walk down the stairs to the lower level. He wasn't normally fond of perfumes but Holland's was light and airy, there but not.

  "Does the thought of me driving make you nervous?"

  Max lowered his head a bit and smiled. "No. Though it feels ungentlemanly for some reason."

  "Ah, and here I thought you were a modern man."

  "Apparently I have some old-fashioned qualities left. So, where are we going?"

  "Mm. You'll see."

  Max walked Holland past the SUV he'd rented for his stay and opened the door of her gray Audi for her to climb behind the wheel.

  "What kind of music do you like?" she asked once he was inside.

  "Depends on my mood."

  "And your mood tonight?"

  She smiled at him from across the vehicle, and he fought off the urge to lean toward her and see if she'd let him kiss her. "Surprise me. Maybe it'll match where we're going for dinner."

  She laughed and found a station on the satellite radio and saxophone music filled the space, low enough to still hold a conversation. Maybe dinner at a jazz place?

  "So what do you do when you're not working or traveling?" he asked.

  "Books. I love reading."

  "What kind of books?"

  A flush of color began filling her cheeks and his interest soared.

  "Uh, lots of things but mostly… romance novels."

  "Those books with the men on the covers that apparently don't own shirts?"

  She wrinkled her nose but nodded as she made the turns leading out of the private, gated area where his grandmother's house was located and got them onto the main road leading into Wilmington.

  "Those are the ones. While my peers read blogs and self-help and books about taking control of one's life, I love reading… about love."

  "You mean sex."

  "Nooo," she countered with a shake of her head and a glance across the interior. "Love. Two people, problems, and the way they overcome them. They're not all about sex. Some don't have any sex in them at all. What?" she asked, a laugh bubbling out of her. "You asked and I'm being honest."

  "I thought by the blush you were going to say you had a secret life or something."

  "Well, I kind of do. I have a secret name online. As a reviewer."

  "A reviewer?"

  "Yeah. And, no, I'm not going to tell you what it is. That will require a rematch at billiards, thank you."

  "Consider it done. Why romance?"

  "Isn't everyone searching for love? Wanting to be loved?"

  He was very well aware of the heightened tension after her question. "You're referring to my grandmother."

  "Well, yeah. Violet's story, the letters, all of it… Not to bring up a touchy subject, but it's really got me thinking about life and… stuff. She has every right to want to know the truth of what happened."

  "I don't suppose you'd fill me in on the love you lost? Or is that too painful a topic?"

  "It's… complicated. He was amazing. Driven. Special Forces," she said, sliding a glance in Max's direction. "He wanted more, but something always held me back."

  "What happened?"
<
br />   "He popped the question, I said no, he returned to duty and… soon after, like really soon after, he was killed."

  "You feel responsible."

  "Wouldn't you? He loved me. I know he loved me and I loved him but… not enough. I hurt him, and I wonder if his head was where it needed to be when it happened."

  "What does your family say?"

  He watched as she inhaled and flashed a shaky smile. "That I did the right thing and he did what he was called to do."

  "You don't believe them?"

  She was silent a long moment, the music filling the air covering the silence.

  "I'm honestly not sure. I hope it's true."

  She slid another look across the expanse of the interior.

  "Was Violet right? When she said you've never been in love?"

  He smoothed the edge of his thumb over the top of his jeans as he stared out at the passing scenery. "I was engaged once. Briefly. Nan doesn't know. No one in my family knew. It was over before it started."

  "Are you really going to make me ask?"

  He chuckled softly and shifted in the seat toward her, liking the confident way she drove and the way she looked behind the wheel of the low-slung vehicle. "It's complicated," he said, repeating her words. Because how did a man with the money he had say he wanted to be loved for himself without coming off like a whining loser?

  "You're not going to tell on your grandmother, are you? What she plans? I mean, I get it if you do but… is she right? Would your father and uncle try to keep her from finding Akihiro?"

  "Probably. My uncle and aunt are overseas. Missionaries. Uncle Jack would be concerned but probably not an issue. My parents… That's another story."

  "But why? I'm sorry, maybe it's a stupid question to you, but why would they keep her from finding the man she once loved so very much?"

  "It's difficult to answer that because of the many aspects involved."

  "You're worried Akihiro or his family might try to take advantage?"

  "Yes. Of course. My grandmother is an extremely wealthy woman. But there's the social aspect as well."

  "By social you mean scandal? Are you really worried so much about what strangers think?"

  When she put it that way… "Holland, I don't want her getting hurt. Period."

  "Okay, I accept that. But I also say not letting her have closure hurts her so… it's a pick-your-poison kind of thing, in my opinion."

  "Perhaps."

  "What about your parents? We talked about my family over breakfast but you didn't say much about yours. Are they divorced? Together?"

  "Together. Living separately most of the time and… going through the motions."

  She slowly stopped at a red light but didn't take her gaze from the traffic in front of her.

  "That's sad. I mean, all couples go through stages of growth and change but… I wouldn't be happy with that. Touchy subject or not, you should give your grandmother full credit for being a classy woman for all of those years with your grandfather."

  He inhaled and sighed. "Agreed. But I'm struggling to see how this is date conversation."

  "Are we on a date? Because I thought I was just paying a bet."

  He laughed at her blunt response. "I guess that means I'll have to take you on a real one so you can tell the difference."

  Once again her face flooded with color and the awareness of her response heated his blood. "And I'll take that blush as a yes. Be honest. Did you research me the way you do your listings?"

  "Yes and no. I looked Violet up and read about her charitable work along with your grandfather's business dealings over the years after she contacted me, but I haven't had time to research you specifically. Plus, I'd much rather get my information from the source."

  "Would you now? What would you like to know?"

  "Oh, I don't know. Where's home? Do you have siblings? Who's your favorite sports team?"

  He liked the lightened tone of her questions after the heaviness of before. "I have a few places I call home. In the States, it's New York. One brother, JC, also in business, and a younger sister, Sophia, who married last year. As to sports teams… the Yankees."

  "Good team."

  "Great team."

  "What's Christmas like with your family?"

  "Chaotic. There's inevitably talk of business and politics and then lots of yelling."

  Another low, sultry laugh. It teased his senses and made him want to hear more.

  "Do you see your family often?"

  "Once or twice a year. I try to schedule any out-of-New-York meetings for this area when I can so that I can see Nan, but on holidays, those who can make it show up at my parents' home in Virginia."

  "Violet mentioned living in Virginia in passing. How did she wind up here?"

  "It was their summer home, purchased to be close to Uncle Jack when he and his wife led a church here. This house was the one Nan always favored, though."

  Holland continued to drive them toward their destination as they got to know one another. They left the subject of family and went on to movies and music and things to do in the area.

  She made a few turns and signaled to pull into a parking lot of a seemingly residential area.

  "Hope you're hungry."

  "I am, but… Are you sure we're in the right place?" It looked familiar. Very familiar, actually.

  Holland grinned at him and unbuckled her seat belt.

  "You'll see."

  Once more he rounded the vehicle to hold her door while she emerged. The breeze brought her scent to his nose and he inhaled appreciatively. "That's nice. Your perfume."

  "Thank you. I found it in a little shop in Belgium."

  "How often do you travel?"

  "Often enough for the novelty to have worn off. I get tired of it sometimes," she said. "But I usually have just long enough of a break in between trips to reboot before going again."

  She steered him down a sidewalk along the side of a church. "Are you leading me into a dark alley?"

  Her laugh filled his ears.

  "Scared I won't protect you?"

  "Come on, where are we going?"

  "My favorite place to eat."

  "Which is?"

  "Nairobi."

  "What?"

  She hurried the last several steps to an unmarked door and grasped the handle, grinning at him.

  "You said to bring you to my favorite place so… welcome to Africa."

  Chapter 7

  Max wasn't sure where they were going, only that Holland had either lied about researching him—which he didn't think she had— or her surprise was about to get even more interesting.

  There were people in matching T-shirts acting as volunteers helping to distribute food and drinks and chatting up those who'd come to partake of the free food, but when Holland led him toward the kitchen area and a man spotted them, he left his post and came running.

  "Hey! Rehema, come see who is visiting us!"

  Max's hand fell from the base of her back as Holland stepped forward to hug the young man. While they greeted each other, Max remained a few steps behind amongst the crowd waiting patiently to get their food, trying to take it all in while wondering if God was up there in heaven chuckling. Timing was everything, wasn't it?

  A beautiful young woman appeared from behind a door, smiling as she spotted her husband hugging Holland. She must have sensed his stare because her gaze shifted to him.

  "Mr. Max!"

  Max grinned and welcomed the woman with open arms. "Hello, Rehema. You look beautiful as always. How is Marcus treating you?"

  "He is everything you said he was and more," Rehema stated.

  Holland had turned at the sound of Rehema's greeting and now watched as he hugged the woman and kissed her on her cheek. "How's the baby?" he asked, refocusing his attention to his friend.

  The woman smoothed her hands over her very pregnant belly and practically glowed with happiness.

  "Getting too big to stay in much longer. And it's a boy!"


  "That's wonderful news. Congratulations."

  "Thank you."

  Holland and Marcus joined them, and Max was very aware of Holland's wide-eyed curiosity.

  Rehema nudged her husband. "Tell Mr. Max the name."

  Max split his attention between the happy couple and Holland, amused by her speechlessness. He liked that her surprise had turned on her. "Tell me what?"

  "Now that we know it's a boy, we'd like to name him Max," Marcus said. "In your honor for all you've done for us."

  "Would that be all right with you?" Rehema asked, her beautiful brown eyes staring up at Max with expectation.

  "The honor would be mine, Rehema."

  "How do you know each other?" Holland asked, her voice filled with more than a little bemusement.

  "Wait, you're here with Mr. Max?" Marcus's expression shifted into knowing awareness as he clapped Max on the shoulder. "Lucky man."

  "I am," Max said, holding Holland's gaze.

  "It's good to see you again, Ms. Holland. We've missed you," Rehema said, hugging Holland.

  "And I have you, Rehema. And, please, it's Holland. But I'm still curious as to how you know Max?"

  "And how you know Marcus and Rehema," Max added.

  "For such a big world, it is very small, yes?" Marcus said. "We met Ms. Holland—Holland," Marcus corrected when he saw Holland opening her mouth to protest, "last year during the fundraiser. Now whenever she is in town during our Nairobi nights, she comes to eat with us."

  "I see."

  For the first time since they'd arrived, Max pondered the possibility that Holland had brought him here as some kind of test. He just wasn't sure why. Maybe to see if he'd run because they were in the church's soup kitchen? It wasn't exactly a normal first date. So if that was the case, what was the reason behind the test?

  "Come. Sit. We have plenty of food."

  The couple took them to a table and Max held Holland's chair for her before he joined her. Rehema and Marcus quickly filled plates for them and Rehema brought them to the table while Marcus went to get them drinks.

  "Rehema, please, you don't have to wait on us," Holland said.