“You could look at being a little closer and opt to go to a university in New York, or North Carolina.”
Louis lit up like a Christmas tree. “Michael Jordan went to the University of North Carolina, right?”
“Yes, I believe that he did, but that would be a dorm situation as well. How do you feel about that?”
Louis kept chewing and shrugged.
“We can put in applications for several options and see what happens,” La Costa went on. “Regardless of what you choose, I promise that our home here will remain. We would just need to work out how to juggle between the coast lines.”
“What about Henry? What does he say about all of this?”
“He supports us, whatever we decide. I will tell you that I love and care for him very much. I am hoping that there is a way we can make this work for all of us.”
Louis nodded. “Yeah, Mom. I think that if it’s something that you want to do, I say—do it.”
La Costa’s heart leaped. Could she love this boy any more? “You know, all I really want is to continue to take care of you and keep you close if I can help it. That’s my number one job.”
Louis smiled. The slight gap in his front row of teeth melted her heart every time; probably a gift from his biological father, further confirming that AJ’s blood most likely flowed in Louis’s veins. She was somewhat glad, though that he never wanted to have it fixed. It was as unique unto him as his precious heart.
“Yeah, you should definitely take the job,” he said.
“Are you sure? I mean, about your school?”
“Can I think about it? I don’t know right now,” he said, slurping his coke. “I’m down anywhere that I can play ball—and kill it with the academics.”
La Costa sighed. What she thought would be the toughest obstacle, just volleyed her a lay up. “You know, I think that Tess’s son Reyce is going to UNC, so how cool would that be?”
“Really? I’m going to text him right now and see,” Louis said, excitedly. “How awesome is it that you are going to be a TV star? Oh, swag money—does this mean we are going to be like, really rich?”
“Well, rich enough to enable us to bridge that distance coast to coast and to keep you in sushi and sneakers, I guess.”
“Cool.”
Chapter Fifty
Portland, OR
La Costa arrived in the city early enough to take advantage of the local sights. The stunning Portland Art Museum, Providence Park, and Pioneer Place shopping mall were all within walking distance of the boutique hotel, with its gleaming art collection and luxury amenity-filled lobby and restaurants. Her invaluable personal assistant, Florian, had plotted a points-of-interest map for her, which he had printed out and included with her itinerary. The bookstore’s headquarters, Powel’s City of Books, occupied a full city block, and would be the location for her book signing the next morning.
When she returned after dark, she took a quick shower in the enormous bath suite, indulged in designer toiletries, and then wrapped herself in a fluffy bath robe. She ordered room service and began to unpack her clothes for the next day’s event. There, nestled beneath her floral A-line dress with the sassy leather belt, was a pristine manuscript secured with a giant rubber band and a post-it that had the words: READ ME! written with a black Sharpie on it, punctuated with a smiley face.
La Costa raised one perfectly arched brow when she read the author’s name: Henry T. Paige. Henry, what have you done here? she mused, as she flipped through the unassuming pages with a quick, cursory check—double spaced, twelve-point Times New Roman font, one-inch margins on all sides. Each page’s header included the author name, page number, and title: ISLAND OF SWALLOWS all in caps. It was clean, tidy, and a respectable and ambitious word count at ninety thousand words.
“Goodness, my Henry has written a book!” she blurted aloud and fell, laughing gleefully, onto the bed. She reached for her phone to text him that she had found his manuscript but then stopped herself. Instead, she retrieved her reading glasses, leaned back against the headboard, and began to read the prologue with a mix of dread and hopeful anticipation. Would it even be any good?
Fourteen pages in, she was well on her way on a journey that would take her on a thrilling ride that began with a Mardi Gras festival in the late nineteenth century at the Carnaval de Cozumel, where a dark and dangerous marauder, posing as a Comparsas, kills two carnival-goers in the dark cobblestone streets after a day of festive celebration. The killer flees into the night with a ring wrenched from one of the victim’s severed fingers. Then, dizzily depositing the reader into modern day, the action shifted onto a chartered fishing boat off of a tourist island in Mexico, filled with restaurants, hotels, and a flurry of bustling bars and plazas. It is here the reader meets the unassuming protagonist, Alec Slater, about to pitch a diamond engagement ring over the railing into the Caribbean. It is at this point that he witnesses a shocking crime in broad daylight.
Six and a half hours later, and blurry-eyed, La Costa finished the last page, still in her bathrobe amid a stack of dirty room service dishes and sundry snack wrappers from the honor bar. She yawned and checked her phone, shaking her head disbelievingly. It was well past one a.m., and she had not even noticed the multiple text messages that had stacked up in her queue since she had first informed Henry that she had touched down. Henry had texted earlier that he and Louis were having a guys-only night, and that they hoped she was enjoying the sights in Portland.
The manuscript was a marvel. If it was Henry’s first foray into writing fiction, it was impressive, to say the least. She had taken early on to getting her own notepad and making edits and suggestions as she read along, but resisted the temptation to do so as she read further. She had been so caught up in the story that she didn’t want to stop the momentum of giving it one full read. Overall, it had great promise, and the idea of Henry possessing such talent and trusting her with his work, only made her love him more.
She had decided not to wake him. Instead, she would wait to talk to him about it later. If he was interested in trying to land a publishing deal, she would be more than happy to help him in any way that she could. She was certain that Tess knew someone who represented thriller authors.
La Costa settled in for a good night’s sleep in the luxurious hotel sheets, as thoughts of a bright and unknown future tugged at her whirring mind. How blessed are we? she thought, quickly drifting into a cloud of hazy dreams.
Chapter Fifty-one
The next morning, Henry awoke to an apartment littered with pizza boxes and half-drunk cans of soda. He had invited Louis’s friend Kayden to join them for a marathon Xbox gambol the night before. “We better get this mess cleaned up before your mom gets back,” he said to Louis, who had sleepily wandered over to the refrigerator for a swig of orange juice.
“Is Kayden still here? It looks like he crashed on the couch,” Henry asked.
“No, he went back down to his apartment around midnight,” Louis said.
“Okay, well, you hop in the shower. I’ll get rid of this mess, and then I’ll drive you to school.”
Within the hour they were down in the parking garage and in Henry’s jeep. They turned onto Club View Drive, and Henry knew that he only had a short window of time to have the chat with Louis that he had wanted to have the night before. “So, has your mom told you about the talk show offer?” he asked, hoping to be heard over Louis’s playlist that was streaming in his earbuds.
“Yeah, I know it’s in New York and all.”
“So, what do you think?” Henry asked.
“I think it would be okay for her to take it. I have been looking up some of the schools on the East Coast, so I wouldn’t be far away.”
Henry smiled. This boy was definitely protective of his mother, as he should be. “Can I ask you something a bit more personal? How you would feel if your mom and I were to make things between us more permanent?”
Louis removed his earbuds and turned toward Henry.
&nbs
p; “You mean, like—?”
“Yeah, I am thinking about asking her to marry me.”
Louis paused and then stared straight ahead.
Henry’s heart sank in the moment it took for Louis to crack a smile.
“Took you long enough, man!” Louis quipped as he shoved the earbuds back into his bobbing head, returning to his music.
Henry threw him a soft jab to the bicep, and the deal was sealed. Permission granted.
“Good talk,” Henry said, smiling.
Later that afternoon, when Henry got back to La Jolla, he phoned La Costa from the bistro.
“Good day, Ms. Reed. How are things going in beautiful Portland?”
“Hey, baby—just fine. However, we need to talk about that little package that you smuggled into my luggage. Henry, why didn’t you tell me that you wrote a whole manuscript!”
Henry balked, feeling a bit apprehensive. “I just wanted to give it to you for your thoughts. It’s just a first draft, and—”
“And it is really good, Henry, it’s more than good. It’s very good.”
The accolade came as a surprise. He didn’t think that La Costa would bash his work, but to gush about it, that was something else. “Can we talk about it when you get back?”
“Oh, you bet we will. You can count on that, baby. I had no idea that you were working on this. You are just full of surprises, aren’t you?”
Henry chuckled.
“Hey, how did it go with Louis last night? Is he getting his homework done and eating something other than pizza?” La Costa asked.
“Yes, he’s fine. He’s at Kayden’s for the rest of the week. I told him to call or text me if he needs anything.”
“Thank you for keeping an eye on him, sweetheart. I am heading to Vancouver next. I’m about to get on a flight. But listen, I’m also going to call Tess with my answer today. I’ve decided to accept the offer from Global Network. I’m going to do it!”
Henry beamed. “I’m giving you a high-five right now, but you can’t see it. Sweetheart, that’s great!
“Great? I’d say more like, crazy-scary. I’m terrified!”
“That means that you are doing it right,” Henry said. “Congratulations, babe. You are on your way! You definitely deserve this. I love you.”
“I love you too. I will call you when I get there. Don’t sign any book deals until I get back,” she said, laughing, and signed off.
Henry jumped back into his jeep with only one mission in mind.
Chapter Fifty-two
The Jewelry District on Broadway in downtown Los Angeles was a far cry from the pristine, glittering, over-priced boutiques located in La Jolla’s tourist row that was designed to separate amateurs from their money. Henry was aware that the diamond of La Costa’s dreams did not reside on a padded pillow in the window of a high-dollar storefront. It was waiting deep in the vaults of the district’s most guarded brick-front urban buildings; the most uniquely crafted gems and settings hewn right there in the heart of the city she loved. The city where they first met. Nothing less than the best would do for the love of his life.
Henry’s jeweler’s name was Amal. He was an eccentric little man with an Israeli accent and bright, dancing eyes. He had a store on Hill Street that patrons had to be buzzed into. An electronic surveillance system and an appointment were the gatekeepers that granted entry to Amal’s treasures. The ancient office building had a myriad of cameras trained on one’s every move from the transactions at the front counter to the workers in the back office. Amal had done a repair on a Rolex that Henry had purchased from him years ago, which was the only piece of jewelry that Henry ever wore as a rule. Of course, this would soon change, and he would be needing not only the most perfect of engagement rings, but wedding bands befitting his and La Costa’s eternal love.
Amal greeted him with a jovial smile and a handshake. “Ah! Mr. Paige, so good to see you again. My friend, what is it you need? You come to me for engagement ring?” It was his standard joke with all his male customers.
Henry smiled widely.
Amal burst into a joyful little dance and bounded from behind the counter to deliver a zealous bear hug to Henry. “Yes? L’chaim! Come, Mr. Paige, let’s find your bride the perfect ring!”
Two hours later, Henry merged onto I-5 toward Santa Ana and would continue on the interstate all the way toward San Diego. He couldn’t stop grinning. The little felt-lined box in his shirt pocket filled him with an exhilaration and glee that he had not felt since he was a young man.
He checked his phone for messages from the restaurant. La Costa had called to say that she had arrived at her hotel in Vancouver and was checking in. He would text her when he reached the exit to let her know that he would call her later that evening. There would be so much to discuss about the television show deal, the move, the future. As for the proposal, he would wait a bit for the perfect moment to ask La Costa to marry him. It wouldn’t be fair, he figured, to spring another thing on her right now.
* * *
Not two hundred thirty miles away, AJ Williams slithered into a pawn shop. “Dizzy G. sent me,” he said to a large man with a goatee, who was perched on a stool near the door, eating his lunch from a white paper sack. The man escorted AJ to a room in the back of the shop and closed the door behind him when he left.
There was a single glass counter filled with sundry items, and another large man behind it who grunted when he stood up from a folding chair.
AJ slipped off the steel and leather Cartier Diver watch he was wearing from his massive wrist and placed it on the glass. Then, he pointed to the Smith & Wesson M&P45 that was front and center in the display case.
“That one.”
The man behind the counter was short on answers and long on eye contact. He retrieved the metal carrier holding the medium-caliber revolver and set it down in front of him.
“Can I see it?” AJ said.
The man moved slowly and handled the piece with precision, presenting him with an open view of the barrel.
“Need to inspect it, dawg,” AJ said.
The man handed over the disassembled gun. The cylinder locked up solid when AJ cocked it. Next, he examined the crane. There was no sign of pitting, cracks, or surface rust. It was a clean gun.
“It’s good for concealed carry and self-defense?”
“Sure,” the man said.
“Can I dry fire it?”
The man shook his thick head. “Naw. It works.”
“Will this get it?” he asked, referring to the watch.
The man sniffed. “That and another bill.”
AJ threw down a hundred and the deal was done.
Chapter Fifty-three
The next several weeks were a blur for La Costa. Just off the road, rounding off the last of her memoir tour signings, she now had a blissful window of uninterrupted time to complete the revisions on the second book in the new trilogy. With Henry working at the bistro weekdays and away on weekends to oversee the camp renovations in South Carolina, and with Louis busy at school and with daily basketball practice, schedules afforded La Costa long stretches of writing time, which she indulged in at the beach house, where she always felt the most productive.
There was just something wonderful about the rhythm of the ocean waves and the salt air that kicked her creative mind into high gear, ensuring that she would more than meet the deadline that she had set for the completion of all books in the trilogy, slated for release starting in late fall.
“How is it coming?” Tess asked from the jumping video image on La Costa’s computer screen.
“What, are you Skyping me from a bouncy castle?” La Costa joked. “You’re giving me sea sickness here.”
“Sorry,” Tess said. “I’m in a cab on my iPad. Manhattan traffic is a nightmare. I think this guy knows every twisty alley from here to Mid-Town. I feel like a crash dummy back here. How are the revisions coming?”
“Great. I will be ready to get started on book three very soon.
I figured it would be good to finish them all before I start with the talk show. Less to try to do later on.”
“Actually, the timing could not be more perfect. The trilogy will be hitting right as you move into this new role as co-anchor,” Tess said. “I don’t need to tell you how excellent it will be for publicity. I am so glad that you said yes. Girl, it’s going to be amazing!”
“Speaking of which, have you heard any news about the signing? It’s not a done deal until I sign on that dotted line, right?”
“Trust me. It’s happening. I am in discussions with the network about every detail. There will be a preliminary acceptance of the terms, and then a group signing for all of the co-hosts. I will let you know as soon as a date has been selected for that. Then, about two weeks after the group signing, there will be a photo shoot for the entire cast. Everything, as far as we can tell, is tight and on schedule. By the way, how are Henry and Louis feeling about this new adventure of yours?”
“They are on board and couldn’t be more supportive,” La Costa said. “I can’t say that I’m surprised, though. I am so grateful for those two. I just want to pinch myself sometimes. We just need to iron out the logistics between both coasts, and then I think we’ll be fine. I haven’t had time to hunt for a place yet.”
“Don’t worry about a thing. I have it covered. A former colleague of mine in real estate is on the lookout for the perfect East Coast apartment for you guys. You just keep those revisions coming, and I’ll do the rest.”
“Thanks, Tess. Truly, for everything” La Costa said, trying to navigate the unsteady image of her agent coming in and out of focus with every pothole. So much was starting to happen so quickly, and her brain felt like a whir of details, deadlines, and to-do lists to juggle. “Oh, have you had a chance to look at Henry’s manuscript that I sent you?”
“The Cozumel vacation thriller? Yes, I did. I’m telling you, for real—it wasn’t half bad. Is there anything that guy of yours can’t do?”
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