Welcome Reluctant Stranger

by Evelyn Journey

  Rebellion had begun again in some parts of Costa Mora, not long after Leilani and company left, and the suspected leader of it was General Huang. Newspapers reported that he had, most likely, set up camp in the mountains. They also speculated that he had somehow been able to raise money to buy guns for his men.

  Leilani emailed back to ask if news reports ever mentioned a man named Bernie Tanteo.

  Virgie answered: Yes. Newspapers report that he’s General Huang’s right-hand man. He’s gone into the mountains with the General.

  Leilani was appalled. But she was not about to tell Virgie about her family’s dealings with Bernie. She couldn’t help feeling ashamed of it. How could the Torreses have failed to see that he and the General were working in cahoots?

  She wrote, instead: Are you in any danger?

  Virgie answered: We’ve been through this before. These people usually don’t touch people like us. We’ll retreat to my parents’ house in the mountains, if things get worse.

  Virgie sent Leilani another email days later. Again, she attached a copy of a news report, recounting General Huang’s history—his role in the assassination plot, his imprisonment, and his quiet release from prison along with everyone else still alive and charged in the plot. The report mentioned her father as co-conspirator, asking where he was and whether he had, in fact, joined General Huang in the mountains.

  The report rankled Leilani at first, but when she read it again, she started to laugh. Justin, who was in the kitchen, came out to the living room where she sat on the couch, her laptop on her lap.

  He said, smiling, “What’s so funny?”

  “That shifty General Huang. He fooled us all.”

  “More shenanigans from the General?” Justin said as he sat down next to her.

  Leilani recounted all she learned from Virgie and the news items she sent.

  He said, “I guess we have the answer to why they asked for money in exchange for your father. But, what was it you found so funny?”

  “Not funny, exactly. But when you think about all that’s happened, there’s somehow something ridiculous about all of it. All the machinations, the little agonies of conscience. We’re playing one game in all seriousness, only to find out the other team is playing another.”

  “You have your father back.”

  “That’s the good part. But all the drama surrounding it. It seems … a bit much. Apparently, the government released prisoners quietly. They didn’t want to draw attention to it. We could have brought my father home without hassles. No fake passports, no stand-ins.”

  “You rediscovered your old country.”

  “Yes, and reconnected with a part of myself that I didn’t know I’d lost.”

  “You’ve gained a lot, a precious lot. But, yes, you had to pay. Not a bad deal, I think.”

  “I guess so,” she said, her brow knitted, gazing at him, but lost in thought.

  Justin regarded her in silence. After a couple of minutes, the glitter of mocking humor in his eyes, he said, “How does it feel knowing that you financed the purchase of weapons for revolutionaries?”

  “We were duped, clearly.”

  “No guilt feelings?”

  “Guns for my father? That’s what it’s all about for General Huang, isn’t it? Yes, there’s some guilt, but I’ll be charitable, hold judgment because I’m ignorant about the politics in that troubled country. What matters much more to me, personally, is what I’ve realized. Power drove the General, but my father’s motive has always been different, I’d even say noble.”

  She frowned, allowing what she said to sink in.

  They sat in silence a few minutes before Justin said, “Are you going to tell your parents about General Huang?”

  “No. What’s the point? They’ll find out sooner or later. The news might not be big in this part of the world, but it’ll hit foreign sections of newspapers and online news sites, sooner or later.”

  Justin said, “Yes, let them live in happy ignorance, in the meantime.”

  ♥♥♥♥♥

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you so much for spending some time with Justin and Leilani.

  If you liked their story, please consider sharing or doing a review

  Between Two Worlds: Blurbs and Excerpts

  Curious about Greg and Elise? Read the first book in the series: Hello, My Love (Between Two Worlds, Book 1)

  Beyond broad shoulders and heaving bosoms—It takes love, not just romance, to face reality and conquer messy feelings.

  In this modern-day pastiche of Jane Austen novels, Elise is a bright, beautiful law student, focused on a career and distrustful of men. She butts heads with Greg, a reputed playboy. Unable to deny their feelings, they spend a night together. A jilted fiancée exacts revenge and forces Greg and Elise to face who they are and what they really want.

  A delicious romance with a literary slant, spiced with a twist of whodunit.

  Elise, Hello My Love

  “Going to your parents’ dinner tonight?” Elise could not help smiling at the text message.

  She texted back: “Yes. See you.”

  Greg had been sending her text messages for some time. Often, they were greetings, in the morning, at night, on school holidays; or good luck wishes on exams, debates, and mock trials. Sometimes, he asked her opinion or a question about a legal matter or some fact of interest to either of them. She answered most of those messages although he told her she did not need to, if they were the usual greetings.

  Before they met, Elise had known Greg—from numerous news reports—as the young, progressive owner of a growing internet-based business, and one of the country’s twenty-five most eligible bachelors. The consensus in the media, especially among women reporters: tall, dark, and handsome. But Greg also had a reputation as a playboy, whose many romances were fodder for gossip columns. While Elise hesitated judging looks and personality, sight unseen, she was certain of one thing. She distrusted the likes of men such as Greg.

  But that was a year ago.

  Since he began consulting with her father, Dr. Halverson, an economics professor, Greg had been to many dinners at her parents' home. There, Elise got to know him better.

  Now, when curious acquaintances learned she knew Greg, they invariably asked, and Elise hardly ever varied her answer: “Yes, to news reports. Greg Thorpe is tall—taller than my father who’s more than six feet. Dark—tanned from jogging, bushy hair the color of French Roast woven with golden strands. And beautiful—clean-cut, cleft chin, smiling greyish blue eyes, and, yeah, lean. But, I think, muscular. I’m not sure. I haven’t seen him without his clothes on.”

  It always amused her that her incantation never failed to elicit sighs from young women.

  Elise was about to slip her iPhone into her shirt pocket when it rang. Greg—she expected that. He often answered her text messages within minutes of her sending them, usually by texting. Once in a while, he called instead.

  “Hello, Elise. How’s the light of my life this afternoon?” Greg said, in his teasing voice.

  “Greg, hi. That’s quick. Aren’t you busy?”

  “Not for you. And I’m glad you picked up. I was afraid you’d turn off your phone again.”

  “I can't turn it on in class, when I'm studying, or when I’m at work, and that’s almost my whole day.”

  “Are you staying over at your parents after dinner?”

  “I don’t plan such things. Depends. How late it is when dinner ends, whether I have some easy way to get back to my apartment, how guilty I feel about not having seen my parents for a while, etc., etc.”

  “I see. It’s Friday so I thought you‘re staying the night with them. Can I give you a ride home?”

  Elise protested. “But I live across the bay. That's sixty more miles of driving for you, both ways.”

  “Less than an hour in my fast powerful car.”

  She smiled. Only when she opened up to him a few months
after they first met did she realize that Greg had a wry, often self-mocking, sense of humor.

  She teased him back. “But don't you need your beauty sleep? Aren't you getting married in two days? I’m surprised you’re even coming to my parents’ dinner party. I always thought weddings were exhausting. Don’t you need to rest up for yours?”

  “Think of this as my last fling.”

  “Isn't that when your buddies get you all soused and cavorting with some pretty young things? You definitely need stamina for that.”

  He groaned. “I’m afraid you have this unflattering image of me. But, believe it or not, that prospect doesn’t excite me. I feel too old for all that.”

  “Thirty-two’s not old. To me, old is decrepit. You’re not quite there yet.”

  “I'm glad you think so. Twenty-year olds think thirty is old”

  “I turned twenty-three a few weeks ago,” she said, her smile replaced with pursed lips.

  “That still makes you a young thing in my book. What if I cavort with you?”

  Elise scowled. She couldn’t think of a quick retort, which she knew Greg had come to expect from her. It was not that what he said irritated her. And she didn’t actually dislike it. But she felt a vague sense of unease in her chest.

  “I'm kidding. I know you're not the cavorting type. But we’re buddies, right? Well, more like sparring partners, maybe. Don’t buddies kid around?”

  That’s it, Elise thought. I’m not the pretty, young cavorting type. At least, I didn’t think he thought so. It didn’t annoy her, but it did bother her in some way. She did not answer.

  He added in a softer voice, “Am I wrong?”

  She picked up an edge to his voice and she hesitated through the ensuing silence; for her, an uneasy silence relieved only by his audible breathing. He was going to wait until she said something.

  “I guess we are…friends, or whatever you wanna call it. That makes everything all right, then; kidding included. So, yes, you can take me home tonight. What’s sixty miles between buddies? No guilt, on my part, that you're going out of your way. I gotta run.” She hung up and did not wait for his reply.

  *****

  That evening, Elise arrived at her parents' home when guests were taking their last bites of the appetizer. She had entered the house with her own keys and had gone straight to the dining room. She was trembling. Tired and tense from running between school and work, and then dressing hurriedly for dinner.

  In the entryway to the room, she stopped to catch her breath. For a moment, she teetered on unaccustomed three-inch high black espadrilles, and had to lean on the wall with one hand to steady herself. Then, she straightened and stood in place for another moment, as she brushed a lock of blonde hair away from her face and down her shoulders, its golden glints accentuated by her short-sleeved, dark purple turtleneck sweater. With it, she had worn a long black pencil skirt slit on one side to below mid-thigh that her roommate Leah had lent her. It hugged her lithe figure and she felt self-conscious about it.

  She uttered a general greeting, but out of habit, her gaze sought that of Greg’s. He lifted an eyebrow as he smiled at her, his eyes glowing. She held her breath at the knot that formed at the pit of her stomach. She let her breath out slowly, and stretched her lips to mimic a smile.

  In addition to Greg, two other couples—mutual friends of her parents from her father's college days—completed the eight places around the dinner table. She approached her mother from behind her chair.

  “Elise, finally. We were wondering if you’d make it here tonight.” Mrs. Halverson offered a cheek for her daughter’s kiss.

  “We had a small crisis at the Legal Aid office,” she replied, kissing one cheek and then the other, the usual greeting among the Halversons ever since the children were young.

  Her mother whispered, “Greg has asked me about you at least twice already.”

  Elise stole a glance at Greg as she sat down at her usual place across from him. Her gaze swept around her parents’ friends as she greeted them with a slight nod.

  They were regular visitors and could talk nonstop all night. Elise relaxed. The evening should be relatively calm and cozy. She was tired and she intended to sit among the group, as quiet as she could be.

  But Greg’s gaze seemed glued on her throughout dinner, and she couldn’t help glancing back at him―rather too often, she thought uneasily. Still, neither of them needed to say much, and for that, she was grateful.

  More than an hour later when the party went to the living room for after-dinner coffee, Greg approached her from behind and came so close that she could feel his chest against her back.

  “Good evening, beautiful. I was afraid you’d skip this dinner. Glad you lost the hair clip. Love the sexy hairstyle. Did you know you looked like a lost nymph leaning on that wall for protection?” His voice barely rose above a whisper.

  Elise turned her head towards him and coaxed a smile from her lips. She did not answer, but she was pleased that he noticed the difference in her appearance. She had taken extra care dressing up for this evening’s dinner.

  In the living room, she settled into an armchair. Greg pulled a chair closer to hers and sat on it.

  “You look tired,” he said, peering into her face.

  “Yes. I am. It’s been a very hectic week. I’m glad it’s Friday. But I wish Mom stuck to her usual Saturday schedule. I’m not very good company this evening.”

  “Your dad said they’re going to a birthday party for the dean of his college tomorrow night.”

  “Ahh.”

  “Let’s be quiet together. I don’t think this group needs our help.”

  Elise nodded and smiled faintly. How sweet he could be sometimes.

  The lively conversation of the Halversons’ friends swirled around her and Greg without much help from either of them. It centered on the best places to retire and wild ways to make retirement exciting. The older folks were having their usual fun, their laughter punctuating outrageous suggestions.

  After a quarter of an hour, Elise glanced at her watch, fidgeted in her chair, and suppressed a yawn. Listless from both food and wine, she had lost interest in the lively exchange and wished herself back in her apartment, warm and snug in bed.

  The most garrulous of the group, Dr. Gronski, craned his neck, distracted by her fidgeting. He regarded her for what seemed, to Elise, too uncomfortably long. He must have sensed her discomfort. She could swear that he winked at her and smiled sympathetically before he shifted his attention to Greg.

  He said, “Here's one lucky man. He doesn't have to worry about retirement homes, can retire right now, and do whatever he wants.”

  Elise watched from the corner of her eyes as everyone, except for her, turned towards Greg and stared. He returned the stare for some moments and, with a thoughtful frown, answered, “True, I could go anywhere I want, but I don't know if I'll ever want to retire.”

  “I should have guessed—a workaholic. But you’re a bachelor, so no commitment and no one to nag you.” Dr. Gronski chuckled, winking at his wife.

  “Not for very long. He's getting married on Sunday,” Dr. Halverson chimed in.

  The two couples perked up.

  “Oh! Who to? Why didn’t you bring her here tonight?” said Dr. Gronski’s wife, stealing a glance at Elise.

  “She had prior engagement.” Greg scowled as he answered.

  Elise saw the muscles on his cheek twitch. He was clenching his jaw, clearly ill at ease.

  She clicked her leather espadrilles once, a simple move she had borrowed a few times from Dorothy—a gesture that always brought the young character to a magical place in the movie Wizard of Oz. She rose from her chair.

  As she had intended, the conversation stopped as everyone looked up at her. She walked towards the piano, in a far corner of the room.

  “How about some entertainment?” She raised the front lid on the piano and smiled at her mother. “Mom, can you play
us that piece you've been practicing?”

  Her mother got up and approached Elise with alacrity. “Yes, I would love to. And I hope you like this Mozart fantasy as much as I do. I know my daughter does.”

  She smiled at Elise, sat down, paused for a few seconds, and opened with the slow, dramatic notes of a piece that lasted more than twelve minutes. She followed it with a few more pieces until someone said, at the break between pieces, that it was getting late.

  When the two couples had gone, Dr. Halverson said, “I'm sorry about my friends, Greg. For the most part, they're nice people.”

  His wife added, “With an annoying love of gossip.”

  “Yes, except for that. I shouldn't have mentioned your wedding.”

  Elise said, casting Greg a surreptitious glance, “But it’s true, he’s getting married. They'll find out about it, anyway. Papers will splash the news all over their society pages, for sure. Dad, I’m surprised your friends haven’t seen anything about it already.”

  She arched an eyebrow at Greg, her eyes glittering with amusement. “Come to think of it, I haven’t, either.”

  Greg scowled at her. “Well, maybe they don’t read the social columns, or the tabloids where it’s mentioned, ad nauseum. We didn’t issue any formal announcements. She wanted to, but I refused. I want a quiet ceremony.”

  Elise scowled back and, with a lopsided smile, said, “But, I agree, they had no business asking why she—what's her name? I don't remember ever hearing you mention it. Anyway, it’s none of their business why she isn't here tonight.”

  “We know her name,” her mother said. “We met her at Greg's house when we were last there for a party. Perfect hostess.”

  “Stunning woman,” her father added. “She reminded me of Ava Gardner.”

  “Yes.” Her mother smirked and Elise knew her parents did not agree on Greg’s fiancée.

  “Will someone tell me what her name is?”

  “Lori. Lori Williams,” Greg said. “She’s a public relations consultant at a company I do business with.”