by Parker, Ali
I walked into the tent and immediately headed for the first table with an assortment of antiquities laid out. The first table was filled with coins and other artifacts that were rather common. They didn’t interest me. I was more interested in a death mask or something I didn’t already have. I milled about the tent with Alec on my heels.
I stopped dead in my tracks when I came upon a shabti that was different than the hundreds of others I had seen. “That,” I said, pointing to the statue. “I want that.”
The woman Alec had been talking to earlier appeared out of nowhere. “That’s not for sale.”
I looked at her, raising one eyebrow before looking back to Alec. “I’ll buy that one, and to sweeten the deal, I’ll take some of these other common artifacts off your hands.”
The woman put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “Alec,” she said in a British accent. “Tell your friend here it isn’t for sale. I don’t think he understood me.”
“His friend understands English quite well. I flew all the way here to find something unique. Carl promised me unique. What I see here is common, the opposite of unique. That statue is what I want.”
She laughed. “You are very American.”
I shrugged. “Is that supposed to be an insult?”
Alec put a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s talk about this—rationally and calmly.”
“I am calm,” I replied. “I want that.”
Layla threw her head back and laughed. She was laughing at me, which I did not appreciate. “Look, whoever you are—”
I stopped her. “My name is Tyson Helms. I own several museums and often sell some of my rare finds to avid collectors. I am not the kind of man that takes no for an answer. Your boss, Carl, told me he was excited to show me some things. I’ve dealt with him on numerous occasions, and I assure you, he knows the coins and baubles would not excite me.”
She rolled her eyes. “I get the distinct impression there is very little that impresses you.”
I looked to Alec. He was my wingman. He was the charmer. He schmoozed people. I was great at identifying a piece and could authenticate an artifact, but people didn’t like me. I had very little people skills. I was a nerd. I loved reading and studying. I had double-majored in college because I loved the idea of making money and I loved archeology. Unfortunately, the two were mutually exclusive. That led me to become an antiquities dealer. I never had to doubt what I was buying was the real thing.
Alec was also an archeological sciences major, and when I couldn’t verify the authenticity of a piece, he could. We could divide and conquer. I sent him all around the world while I covered the other half as we searched for unique finds.
Unique, as in no one else had one. A concept Layla was clearly confused about. “I’m impressed by a number of things, including that,” I said, pointing to the statue that was larger than the others I had seen. I wanted to get my hands on it. I wanted to know whose tomb the statue had been placed in. I wanted to research the shit out of it and put together a beautiful package that would be on display in my Egyptian-relic museum.
“I’m sure we can work out a deal,” Alec insisted.
“No deal,” Layla answered.
“Who are you?” I snapped. “Why are you speaking for Carl?”
“I’m his daughter and I’m telling you this isn’t going home with you.”
I smiled. I loved a good challenge. Alec must have seen the look on my face. He faded into the scenery as I took a step toward Layla. I was a tall man. Some people thought I was intimidating. Deep down, I was convinced I was a soft teddy bear, but my exterior was on the rough side. I enjoyed working out and I loved ink. I had numerous tattoos on my biceps, chest, and even one on my hip that was seen by very few people.
She looked intimidated. Finally. She took a step back.
“What’s it worth to you?” I asked her.
“It’s an exquisite piece of history,” she said, nervously licking her lips.
I nodded. “It is. What’s it worth to you? You have a number in mind. Spit it out. We’ll go from there.”
She opened her mouth and snapped it closed again. “I told you, it isn’t—”
I stopped her. “Yes, you’ve said that. You put up a good fight. Now, what is it going to cost me to get that statue?”
I saw the moment I won. Now, we were moving into negotiations. I might have shown my hand by expressing my deep interest in the piece, but I didn’t care. I wanted it. I had already decided it was going into one of my museums, which was really just my private collection that I got to charge people to view. People paid a lot to see my vast collection of artifacts that dated back more than a thousand years.
She tossed out a number. I smiled, accepted it, and continued to browse through the artifacts that were lying on the tables. Alec followed behind me. Once I had made my selections, I left Alec to handle the business of payment and procuring the items and the necessary documents.
“I’ll meet you at the hotel,” Alec called behind me.
I put up my hand, indicating I’d heard him. I pulled on my sunglasses and walked back to the waiting jeep. I was taken back to the hotel by the driver I had hired to run us around. I was anxious to get home. I already knew Alec would be coming back to the hotel stoked about the awesome find. I was happy but not happy enough to go out drinking. That was more of Alec’s thing. He loved to celebrate a good score. My idea of celebrating was a good scotch in a comfortable, quiet room.
I walked into the hotel and headed for the penthouse suite I always used. I offered to let Alec stay with me, but he insisted on his own room. I knew that was because he was hoping to have company. I didn’t begrudge his lifestyle, but I wasn’t interested in the game of dating. And it was absolutely a game.
Women thought they liked me when they saw me. I had the looks, but my personality was lacking. At least, that was what I had been told. I supposed one of my character flaws was I didn’t give a fuck what people thought about my personality. I wasn’t a dick, but I wasn’t the friendliest guy on the planet. I didn’t have to be. I just had to be polite to my patrons.
I took a shower, changing out of the dusty clothes and tossing them in the plastic bag I always carried with me. I used my fingers to comb through my jet-black hair, pulling on a plain white tee. My jeans and tees were my favorite. I always felt like I was playing dress-up when I put on the suits I had to wear when I was working. The last year or two, I had been wearing less suits and more casual wear.
As the billionaire owner of Historical Estates, I could dress how I damn well pleased. I had slowly transformed into the guy that could wear faded jeans one day and a five-thousand-dollar suit the next. Keep them guessing.
I poured myself a healthy dollop of the smooth scotch and took a seat on the plush couch with my iPad in hand. I browsed through my emails, sending the ones with leads for new acquisitions to Alec to vet further.
It was an hour later when I heard the knock on the door. I got up and let Alec in without bothering to ask who it was. “Done?” I asked him.
He was grinning. “Done. They’ll be shipped at the end of next week.”
“Scotch?” I asked.
“Yes, please and then I need to get ready for my date.”
I shook my head as I walked to the bar to pour his drink. “Let me guess. Layla?”
He laughed. “How did you know?”
“Because you are like a rutting buck.”
“She’s a nice girl,” he answered.
I made a choking noise before handing him the drink. “If that’s what you call nice, I hate to see what you call mean.”
He sipped the scotch. “I like a woman that is a little feisty. Makes it fun.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“I got a lead on some stuff in Sweden,” he said. “I have asked for more pictures and documents. If it looks promising, I will let you know.”
I nodded. “I think we need to start digging around down south a bit more.”<
br />
“Like Mexico?”
I shrugged. “Mexico. South America. I’m looking for something interesting. The Egyptian thing is way overdone.”
He laughed. “It’s popular. People love the idea of King Tut and pharaohs and all that stuff.”
“I’m bored with popular,” I told him.
“Got it. I will put out some feelers. Are you thinking Aztec? Mayan? What are you in the mood for?”
I thought about it. “Surprise me.”
“How about something jade?” he proposed. “I have a couple of buyers who have reached out inquiring about jade artifacts.”
I curled my lip. “Boring.”
“But valuable,” he countered.
“Fine.”
“What are you going to do on our last night here?” he asked.
I held up my glass. “You’re looking at it.”
He laughed. “You certainly know how to party.”
“I don’t need to party.”
“But you should party. You are single, rich, and from what I understand, ladies find you attractive.”
I smiled. “Do I really come off as the kind of guy who needs to be responsible for someone? I’m no good at taking care of people.”
“You could be if you wanted to.”
“Maybe, but I’m not interested in learning how to be a good boyfriend. I suck at it and I’m okay with that.”
He finished his scotch and put the glass on the counter. “You know what they say,” he said, letting the words hang.
“What do they say?”
“Practice makes perfect.”
I rolled my eyes as he laughed and walked toward the door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Don’t oversleep. I won’t hold the jet. You’ll have to find your own way home.”
He laughed and closed the door behind him, leaving me to my peaceful solace.
Chapter 3
Mae
I walked into the office, a little harried after the new twist in my morning routine. It had been a long time since I had been a thirteen-year-old girl. Sixteen years to be exact. Hayden was a sweet girl and asked for nothing. I had offered her breakfast and the answer was tears. I hated that she was going through so much. I hated my parents for putting her through it.
It had taken some time to get her settled, her face cleaned up and then dropped off at school. I promised her a shopping trip on the weekend. The girl was in desperate need of new clothes. I wasn’t sure where my mom had gone shopping for her current school clothes, but the poor thing looked like a confused three-year-old going off to the eighth grade.
“Sleeping in?” Patrick asked. “You didn’t show up yesterday and then you’re late today. What is this world coming to when the perfect employee doesn’t do her job?”
“I’m not your employee,” I shot back, putting my to-go cup on my desk in the small office space we shared.
“I’m the owner.”
“Then pull your weight, Mr. Owner.”
“You’re cranky this morning,” he commented.
I shrugged. “Hayden is living with me.”
He stopped typing on the keyboard and looked up at me. “What happened?” he asked, completely serious.
I shrugged. “You were right. I went over there and got the book. Dad was passed out and Mom was stoned. Hayden didn’t get up for school in time and neither of them could take her. It was the last straw. I couldn’t leave her there.”
“Shit,” he muttered. “How is she?”
“I don’t know. This morning was a little rough. She needs some new clothes. I told her I would take her shopping this weekend.”
He was shaking his head. “We should have gotten her out of there a long time ago.”
“I know, but we also didn’t want to put any more stress on her than was necessary.”
“Did Mom threaten you again?” he asked.
I smirked. “I didn’t give her the chance. I told her I was taking Hayden and that was that. If she calls the cops on us like she did last time, it’s going to end badly for her. Hayden will get removed from their care one way or another.”
He blew out a breath. “So, what now?”
I sat down. “I don’t know. I didn’t really think. I just reacted.”
“It was the right thing to do,” he agreed. “We’ll figure it out. You have the spare room. It’s probably more appropriate for her to live with you.”
“I don’t mind. I’m not sure how to raise a teenager, but I guess we’ll figure it out. It isn’t like Hayden is a troublemaker. She’s a good kid.”
“Yes, she is, and she doesn’t deserve our parents.”
“I hope there isn’t too much damage,” I commented. “We turned out okay, but they weren’t like they are now.”
He looked like he was spacing out. His hands were poised over the keyboard, but he wasn’t typing. He was staring blankly at the screen. “Let’s go get her. We’ll go shopping and make a day of it.”
I looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “You want to go shopping? At the mall? For clothes? For a teenage girl?”
He gave me a dirty look. “You don’t have to say it like that.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know how else to say it. You are a thirty-three-year-old guy’s guy. Your idea of a shopping spree is you in front of your computer with your credit card out.”
He laughed. “True, but this is different. I want her to know she has people who care about her and will be there for her. If that means I have to be the purse and bag holder while you girls do your thing, so be it. There’s nothing going on here anyway. It will be good for her.”
I grinned. “You don’t have to tell me to go shopping twice.”
“This won’t all be on you,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll help. Financially. And in whatever way I can. If Mom and Dad pull any bullshit, I’ve got your back. We aren’t going to let them take her back to that shithole.”
I smiled at my brother, who could be kind of annoying. “You’re such a good big brother.”
He groaned. “Don’t start getting sappy with me.”
“Never,” I said and grabbed my coffee once again. “Are we going?”
“Yes. My car. I can’t fit in your tiny piece of metal.”
I rolled my eyes. “It isn’t that small. It’s an average car.”
“I’m not an average man.”
“If you are expecting me to agree or say something to boost your ego, you will be waiting a very long time.”
He chuckled as he walked out of the office. “I don’t need your compliments. I already know the truth.”
He drove us to Hayden’s school. I went into the office, claimed there was a family emergency, and checked her out for the day.
When she met me outside, she looked scared and confused. “What happened?” she whispered. “Did one of them call the police?”
“No,” I said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Patrick and I were thinking we would play hooky today. We’ll go shopping and just have a day off. ‘Mental health day’ I think is what we’re calling it these days.”
She smiled. “Okay. That sounds fun. What kind of shopping?”
“For starters, some new clothes for you,” I told her.
“Patrick is going with us?” she asked with the same confusion I had felt earlier.
I laughed. “Yep. It was his idea.”
I led her to Patrick’s SUV. He was on the phone when we both got in but quickly ended the call. He turned to look at our little sister, who shared many of our same features, but instead of the green eyes, Hayden had a pretty hazel. “Are you ready? Mae has her credit cards on standby. We are going to show her how to really shop.”
Hayden and I both laughed together. Patrick’s hatred of shopping was widely known. “I’m ready,” Hayden agreed. She already sounded much better.
I hoped we weren’t too late to save her from what could have been a horrible fate. I needed to s
poil her to assuage my own guilt over the situation. “The Roosevelt?” I asked, looking at Patrick.
“I’m on my way,” he answered and put the SUV into gear.
We started at one store and meandered through the many stores, letting Hayden lead the way. “I feel like the porter,” Patrick complained as I handed him another bag. “Or a Sherpa. Maybe we should have rented a donkey.”
Hayden giggled. “I can’t believe how much stuff you guys are buying. Can you afford it?”
“Absolutely,” I told her, trying not to think of the credit card bills that would be coming next month. “Besides, it has been way too long since I’ve had a good shopping spree.”
“Me too,” Patrick chimed in.
“Why don’t we get some lunch?” I suggested. “I’m starving.”
With our bags filling the back of the SUV, Patrick drove us to one of our favorite restaurants. We enjoyed a great lunch, keeping the conversation light and friendly and never mentioning our parents. The idea was to take Hayden’s mind off the situation. We didn’t want her worrying about her future. It was important she could have this time to be a carefree teenager.
Patrick dropped me off at the office to pick up my car before we all headed to my apartment in Chestnut Hill. Hayden eagerly took all of her bags to what I was now calling her bedroom. My apartment wasn’t large, but it was adequate for the two of us—for now.
“That was a good idea,” I told Patrick.
“Thanks. She seems to be doing okay.”
I nodded. “I think she will be, but you know this is just a reprieve. Once they sober up, they are going to pitch a fit.”
“And we’ll be ready for them,” he said, keeping his voice low.
“I hope they just go away and let us live our lives,” I whispered.
He sat down on my couch, staring out the window of my eighth-floor apartment. I could tell something was on his mind. I sat down and waited.
“The phone call earlier,” he started.
My stomach dropped. My immediate reaction was it had to have been my parents. They were coming after Hayden. “What? Are we in trouble? Am I in trouble?”