Give Love a Chai (Common Threads Book 2)

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Give Love a Chai (Common Threads Book 2) Page 23

by Smartypants Romance


  Whereas I would be lying if I said that I had no insecurities. They were quiet or easily ignored most days—after all, I was mostly pleased with how I turned out. However in the face of a real-life American doll, doubts came loudly marching in. Who the heck was she? Did he want to be with her? What did that make me? A novelty? Someone to slake his lusts with?

  “Tia, no.” Andrew shook his head, coming slowly to me. “Whatever you’re questioning, don’t. This is Charlie, my sister.”

  The woman scratched at her hairline, peeling off a red wig. Sheepishly, she said, “Sometimes, paparazzi follow me. I have a collection of wigs that I use to avoid them. It gives me a chance to try out different hair colors that I wouldn’t normally.”

  I looked back and forth between the two siblings. One tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired with gray eyes, the other short, willowy, white-blonde hair with blue eyes, holding a red wig.

  “Huh, who knew wigs could cause so much confusion? This is not what I was expecting tonight.” Mentally, I crossed off all of the delicious horizontal activities that I had planned. “Do you want some tea? This feels like a conversation that needs tea and cookies.”

  “That would be lovely, thank you.” Charlie looked relieved that this wasn’t going to turn into a drag-out fight.

  Before I headed into the kitchen, I grabbed a shawl from the entryway closet and wrapped it around myself. Shawls were great inventions, perfect if you didn’t want to suck in your stomach while standing next to people with no body fat.

  It was Andrew who spoke up first, his baritone gruff and apologetic. “Tia, I’m sorry. I should have told you everything when you asked a few days ago. No, I should have told you before you asked. I have no excuse except that I was stupid and scared. If you’re still open to listening to the full story, I’d like to—we’d like to—”

  “No, I should be the one apologizing,” interjected Charlie, putting down the teacup that she had been drinking. “It’s not Andrew’s fault. I begged him not to tell anyone. If you want to blame anyone, blame me. Please. He’s done everything to protect and help me. I’m the one who’s sorry for everything!”

  Surprised, I crossed off “uppity” and “cold” from my first impressions of Charlie. “Before we assign blame, I’d like to understand the story first. Andrew told me the sibling portion. But whatever is happening recently, it can’t just be about you being half-siblings, right?”

  Andrew nodded at Charlie. “You start. It might help for Tia to hear the beginning.”

  Stopping to take a drink of tea, Charlie gathered her words. “As Andrew told you, I found out in high school that my dad was not my biological father. It was a shock, to say the least, when I found out about Brandon.”

  “Did you tell your parents what you found out?” Despite the havoc she had unwittingly wreaked on Andrew’s and my relationship, I could only feel sympathy. Brandon Parker was a rotten man.

  “No. What would I say to my parents? I suspected that my dad knew, but we didn’t talk about these things in our family. Moreover, I didn’t have the closest relationship with my mom and didn’t want to cause an uproar. At the end of the day, their marriage seems to work for them.”

  “Charlie’s parents are both prominent politicians. It would have caused a scandal,” said Andrew.

  “Yes, I found out during my dad’s first campaign for Congress, and my mom was exploring a run for state attorney. Beyond that, my parents are ambitious …” Her voice trailed off, as pink dotted Charlie’s cheekbones. She didn’t sound as if she was particularly pleased about those ambitions, rather embarrassed.

  “To say the least,” muttered Andrew quietly.

  Looking earnest again, Charlie leaned in closer to me, her manicured hands pressed down on the table. “I hired a PI after I found out about Andrew. When he told me Andrew’s address in Colorado, next thing I knew, I was in my car driving to Colorado. When I got to his apartment, I shoved the lab reports at him and begged him to let me in. Andrew told me later that you misunderstood the situation—there was no other woman. I’m sorry for causing trouble in your marriage.”

  Andrew gave her thin shoulder a gentle, brotherly squeeze, and Charlie turned to him gratefully. Even though Andrew had already told me about Charlie a few weeks ago, faced with the reality of Charlie, I was once again filled with regret. Even if our marriage would have fallen apart eventually, I should have never suspected Andrew of cheating. With what felt like the start of a pounding headache rushing in, I closed my eyes and tried to breathe. Andrew’s hands reached out to hold mine tightly, and I held on to them as if they were anchors against the onslaught of sadness.

  Acknowledging Charlie’s apology, I replied, “It wasn’t your fault. Reflecting back, we simply weren’t ready to be married back then.”

  Charlie smiled slightly, and it made her look approachable, more earthy than the golden fairy that she reminded me of. “I’m glad we have a chance to, hopefully, start over. I’d like to be friends with my brother’s wife.”

  Her gesture touched me. “As an only child who always wanted siblings, I’ll take you up on that offer.”

  Another quick smile, before it faltered. Anxiety blooming on her face, Charlie said, “Tia, you were right earlier about this being more than an affair my mother had twenty-some years ago.”

  Andrew’s face darkened at her words. He looked at me carefully, his voice low and urgent. “This is the part that I didn’t want to drag you into. Are you sure you’re ready, Tia?”

  “Yes.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Tia

  June 12, 2010 (never sent)

  Andrew,

  I’m flying to Beijing tomorrow for two months. I haven’t been back since the summer after eighth grade. Even though I was born in Beijing and lived there until I was eight, I’m still nervous to go back. My Chinese has atrophied, and while I don’t feel one hundred percent American, I’m perceived as such there.

  I’ve often complained to you about being Chinese growing up in a small town in the US and not fitting in. I need to remember my privilege that I have two cultures that I can choose from. At least for the next couple of months, I’m committed to enjoying my relatives spoiling and feeding me, even if I have to “pay back” by practicing English with my little cousins.

  Yours,

  Tia

  Was I ready? Probably not. I also knew that if he sensed any hesitation on my part, there was a good chance that Andrew would shut down. Instead, I gave him my best trust-me-really smile and squeezed his hand.

  As if reciting homework in front of a class, he started tonelessly, “My dad—our dad—Brandon reached out a couple weeks ago to Charlie.”

  Ai ya ya. I gasped. I should have suspected, since nothing made Andrew as insecure as his dad.

  “It was a complete and, as you can imagine, devastating surprise,” Charlie added. “At first I ignored the calls. There’s a certain amount of public interest in my life, because of my family, and it’s not uncommon to get random calls. Eventually, after getting maybe a dozen calls from the same phone number, I picked up. I actually thought it was Andrew calling as a prank at first—Brandon’s voice is very similar to Andrew’s. He asked for money.”

  “It’s what he’s always after,” said Andrew bitterly. “He asked for ten million.”

  I gasped again.

  “I tried telling Brandon that I don’t have the money. He insisted that I figure out a way. I mean, my husband’s family is well-off, but Will’s inheritance is held in trust. If I asked his parents, they’d be more likely to push for a divorce than have a daughter-in-law with ‘tainted blood’ and scandal attached to her name.”

  “So what happens if you don’t pay the money?”

  No longer able to meet my gaze, Charlie looked down at her French manicure. A tiny, random part of me was impressed at how immaculate they looked, even during this time. “That summer when I found out about Brandon, I started drinking. I lost control of the car one night and hit a h
ouse. There was a woman inside. I don’t think I hit her. I don’t remember much. I must have called my dad, my real one, not Brandon, at one point, because I remember him bundling me up into his car and telling me that everything would be okay. The next day, everything was dealt with, as if nothing had happened. I asked my parents, but outside of telling me that the woman was fine, they refused to talk about it. I tried searching for the woman to apologize, but I couldn’t find any information. My best guess is that my parents paid her off and pressured the police and DA’s office into keeping the entire matter quiet.”

  Falling silent, Charlie looked lost in thought. This was definitely not what I was expecting. Words failed me. Instead, I popped consecutive cookies into my mouth. Stress was always better handled with a side of dessert.

  In a very soft voice, Charlie whispered so low that I almost didn’t catch her words. “It’ll kill my parents’ careers if this gets out. I think I can handle the bad press, but I don’t want to hurt my parents or lose my husband when he finds out. I was supposed to be the perfect political wife. Yet, here I am, in the middle of a blackmail scandal.”

  “There’s more, Tia,” Andrew said, looking embarrassed. “As soon as I graduated from law school, Brandon found my number and asked for money to ‘rebuild his life.’ He said that I owed him, that he only went to jail because he was trying to provide for me and my mom.”

  Bristling, I protested, “The nerve! You can provide without stealing and conning others. You shouldn’t blame yourself, Andrew.”

  His lips tugged to the side at my indignation. “I don’t. I ignored him until he showed up in Breckenridge. I didn’t want my mom to fall back under his influence again, so I ended up paying him. Eventually, when I saved enough, I convinced my mom to move to Florida to a gated neighborhood. Brandon hasn’t bothered her as long as I keep paying him. It’s a small price to keep him away. The problem is now he wants ten million, and he’s not picky about who gives it to him.”

  “What is he threatening you with, to get you to pay the ten million? Is he planning to go after your mom?” I asked.

  Andrew shook his head. “He seems to have lost interest in my mom recently. He’s threatening to go to the police and tell them that I’m money laundering.”

  “What? How can he do that?” I protested.

  Andrew winced. “It was naivety on my part. In the past, I didn’t care what Brandon did as long as he left my mom and me alone. When he asked me for ten million, I asked one of my colleagues, Alex, to look into his finances. It turns out that since Brandon left prison, he’s convinced a lot of people to invest money with him. We think he creates fake documents to show how the investments are rising and then pockets the money. He combines my monthly payments with what he’s embezzled and routes them through a few accounts to make them look legitimate. There’s no way to reveal his fraud without the chance of implicating me. Even if a police investigation confirms that I’m innocent, no one is going to trust me. Who would hire a corporate lawyer accused of embezzlement? No firm or client would take that risk. And that’s assuming the police find me innocent and don’t arrest me. I didn’t want you to think that I was guilty, especially when I can’t prove definitely that I’m innocent.” Taking a controlled breath, Andrew tried to pull his hands away.

  I held tight. We were in this together. I needed Andrew to see the visual of our hands linked together. “I don’t need proof to know that you’re not the next Bernie Madoff. I would have believed you. I do believe you.”

  He caught my eyes and pressed one hand to his lips. “Thank you.”

  I nodded in acknowledgement.

  “The deadline is tomorrow at five p.m. to pay the money.” Charlie’s words pulled us back to the urgency of the situation. “I suggested a hitman but Andrew didn’t love the idea. I still reserve the idea as a backup. Oh don’t worry, I’d hire an extremely good one who would leave no trace. Definitely no subcontractors either.”

  Charlie’s face was calm, showing no sign that she was joking. But of course she was, right? Who talks about hiring assassins in a brightly lit dining room surrounded by teapots and cookies? For goodness’ sake, there was a fancy rug under the dining room set as if the thought of wine and food spilling on it was not a big deal, and cabinets that showed off plates that no one ever used.

  “We could pay Brandon,” I suggested after a long silence.

  Both Andrew and Charlie looked at me. Charlie with hope, Andrew with dawning horror.

  “No, Tia.” Andrew’s hands on mine tightened, almost painfully, though I wasn’t sure that he even realized it. His mouth was set in a mulish line. “We’re not going to your parents for help.”

  “What’s wrong with asking for help? Their philosophy has always been, their money, my money, my money, their money. They’re annoying sometimes, but they’re good about unconditional support.” At that moment, I realized just how true those words were. Yes, my parents were tiger parents and helicopter parents and whatever other new term cropped up in the future. Yes, I probably needed to stand up to them more. But when I had told them that I was with Andrew over Thanksgiving, after the initial protests, they had grown tentatively okay with us being together. Whenever I needed them, as I had during my hospital stay and the long months after, they were my biggest supporters. They fed me, forced me to shower, forced me to go outside and slowly inch back into life.

  Instinctively, I knew that no matter their grumbles, they would do everything in their power to protect me, and by extension Andrew and Charlie.

  Before Andrew could protest again, I said, “I actually wasn’t going to suggest asking them. Um, you know how I wrote my PhD thesis on fraud? After Pippa left that law firm that you were both at, she started a little audit firm and asked me to build a few algorithms to help detect fraud. We sold it last year to E&Y. I could help with the money. It was Pippa who did the legwork in selling the company, but I do have enough for Brandon’s blackmail.”

  Andrew’s eyes shone with pride. “You’re amazing. However, Tia, this is not your problem. We shouldn’t use your money.”

  Very gently, I placed my hands on his cheeks, holding his face until he glared sullenly back at me. “You silly man. You’re my husband.” I turned to quickly look at Charlie. “You’re my family too. And families support and care for each other—whether blood or chosen families. They may bicker internally, but they protect their own, whatever the cost. So why wouldn’t I help you? Think of it as me being selfish. I don’t want you to go to jail. Technically, this might even be considered your money too, since we’re married, and there was no prenup.”

  I could practically see the thoughts churning in Andrew’s mind and protests forming. Nonetheless, he seemed to be really mulling over this.

  “I’m not convinced this is a good option. I don’t like the thought of using you for your money. There needs to be a better solution. However, I’m okay keeping this as a backup option,” he conceded stoically after a long pause.

  Victory. However small the concession.

  My heart swelled with bubbling hope. I couldn’t have loved Andrew Parker more at that moment. I understood the depth of pride he had swallowed in even thinking about letting me help. Not because he liked it or thought it was the easy way out. Instead, because he took my opinions into consideration and put the collective us and our future before pride. Besides the permanent banishment of Brandon Parker to Uranus, what more could I have asked for?

  Taking out his phone to check messages quickly, Andrew said, “I’ve asked Alex to dig into dirt on Brandon, in case there is another way to get rid of him without paying. In the meantime, Charlie, I made a reservation for you at the Four Seasons. Why don’t I take you over so you can get some rest?”

  I walked both of them to the front door, feeling anxious and unsettled.

  Bundled up again in her trench coat and gloves, Charlie smiled tremulously at me. “It’s not the circumstances that I imagined officially meeting you. I’m glad you’re back in Andrew
’s life and mine.”

  “Same.” And I did feel glad to know the mysterious Charlie finally. She looked so forlorn that I wanted to pat her head, and tell her it was going to be okay. Because I had enough social awareness to know that patting near-strangers’ heads was considered eccentric by society, I settled for just telling her it was going to be okay.

  She pretended to agree, though her smile was bracketed by worry lines at the corners.

  Andrew came to stand in front of me, his hands framing my face as he bent for a sweet kiss. The touch was too brief. I barely had time to decipher what was happening before he had pulled back. With his hands caressing my cheeks and his lips a breath away from mine, he whispered low enough that only I would hear. “Thank you for believing in me.”

  I puffed out a breath. “I told you I was different this time. You—you still have to agree to let me help. Your stubbornness might still send us fleeing to a country with lax extradition laws before this is over.”

  A small smile showed off his single dimple, as I gave in and pressed a kiss right where his lips curved up. “I like the thought of ‘us.’ I’ll think about your offer. Seriously.”

  I hoped that his pride wouldn’t hold him back from saying yes. Especially with Charlie to protect. But I didn’t hold my breath. In fact, part of me was pretty sure that by the end of tomorrow, I would be married to an ex-lawyer, under investigation for money laundering, with a half sister who was disowned by her ambitious politician family. Minutes after the news would break, my parents, with their secret Chinese gossip tree, would call to interrogate me. This would devolve into my parents bemoaning the loss of no-skeletons-in-the-closet Clayton and not so secretly asking me if I was sure in my choice of husband. Once they had properly lectured me, they’d fly over to Boston or whatever country we had fled to and make sure that Andrew, Charlie, and I were fed with real food.

 

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