by V. T. Do
“Their kids are about my age, and they’re all in college. Their eldest, Jennifer, is actually getting her masters in engineering right now. And they are only one of the hundreds of families my grandpa helped throughout his life. He had a big heart for small, family-owned businesses.”
Wyatt didn’t say anything. He waited for me to continue, giving me his undivided attention. I appreciated that more than I could say. “He was a good man, not just to me. There are so many things I have been blessed with in my life, and they’re all because of him. This is his legacy. Not the multibillion dollar business he started. Not even the house, or his name. But his actions and his aid to those who needed it. His love for me.”
“I know, baby. I know you love him. And I know you miss him.”
“Did he do something to you?”
Wyatt opened his mouth as if to answer, then shut it. One of the servers came by to refill our water then, and we remained silent. I smiled my thanks and waited until he’d walked to the next table before turning my attention back to Wyatt.
“No, he didn’t. I can honestly tell you he didn’t do anything to me.”
“But you don’t like him.”
“Would you like me to tell you about all he’s done? Here in this restaurant, where you and he shared meals and made happy memories?”
I thought about it. I wanted to say yes, no matter what it was. But I didn’t want this place tainted with my grandpa’s sins. I shook my head. “Will you tell me though? The whole truth, I mean.”
Wyatt stood and came over to my side of the booth, sitting down next to me. “I’ll tell you everything,” he whispered, his eyes turning sad. “I’ll tell you it all. Even the ugly parts. But not here, and not now. When you’re ready to hear it, baby, okay?”
“How do you know I’m not ready now?”
“You brought me here. You wanted to convince me that he was a good man. And I’m telling you, I didn’t know him very well. You know what kind of man he was better than me, so you don’t have to convince me. I’ll listen. And I will forever be thankful that he took you in and cared for you. He raised you to be this strong, beautiful woman. How could I ever hate the man?”
I moved in closer to him, loving the way he smelled. Familiar and comforting, and so damn alluring, I didn’t think I would ever get enough. Like home. He wrapped his arms around me, and I buried my face in the skin between his neck and shoulder. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that, sweetheart. Never for that.”
Uncle Binh came over then with two large bowls of medium-rare beef pho—my favorite. He offered us a smile when he set the bowls down. “Enjoy,” he said, walking back to the front, where two customers were waiting to be seated.
I grabbed the chopsticks and spoon set out on the table. Wyatt copied me, his smile a mix between amusement and bewilderment. When I grabbed the little plate that was on the table and squirted the sauces, Wyatt did the same. We shared a smile as we swirled the sauces together, a mixture of red and black on the plate.
“You put the vegetables in,” I said, following my words with a demonstration.
“Won’t the vegetables get all soggy?”
“Yes, but they taste good like that. Try it.” He used his chopsticks to grab the vegetables. “You’re surprisingly good with chopsticks.”
He grinned. “I’ve had Chinese before.”
I mock-scowled. “And yet you’ve never explored any other Asian food?”
“Surprisingly, no. And these Vietnamese restaurants are all over the place.”
“Well, I’m glad I was able to show you something new.” His smile fell then, his eyes going out of focus, as if a thought had just occurred to him. “What?” I asked.
He smiled, and there was something about this smile that made my heart skip a beat. As if he’d just come to a realization and had simply accepted it. “Nothing. It’s just that I find being with you is a new experience in itself.”
I looked down then, unsure of why I was feeling shy all of a sudden. So I changed the subject. “Eat. I want to see your reaction when you first try it.”
I looked at him expectantly. His eyebrows pulled up a little. “You’re going to watch me eat?”
“Just the first bite,” I said.
He shook his head in exasperation, and then his grin widened as he took the first bite. I watched how he fell in love with the noodle dish, and felt almost giddy. It had been so worth it taking him here.
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Things in a Box
Emery
It wasn’t until Monday afternoon when I was done with class that I was able to make contact with Richard Gillian.
I had only met the man four times in my life—the fourth and final time was when I met up with him a week after my grandpa’s death to discuss his will. Richard was in his late forties, with distinguished blue eyes, a charming smile, and salt-and-pepper hair. He was one of those men who had aged well.
I picked up the phone when it rang just as I was getting into my car. The Bluetooth kicked in, and Richard’s deep voice came through the stereo. “Emery, how are you?”
“I’m doing very well, actually. And you?”
“Oh, good. Thanks for asking. Listen, I got your email yesterday, and I’ve been trying to go through some of the stuff your grandpa left in my care.”
“Yes?”
“You wanted to know about a key?”
“Yeah. It would be smaller than a house key. It’s the key to this metal box I found in my grandpa’s study. I was wondering if you knew where I might find it.”
“I’m sorry. I looked all day yesterday and this morning. I don’t have anything like that from your grandpa in my possession.” Disappointment curled in my stomach. I was so sure he would have it. Now the only option was to break the box open. I knew it could be done, but it seemed like a terrible inconvenience. “Have you tried his safe-deposit box?”
I sat up in my seat. “He had a safe-deposit box?”
“Yes, at the bank. Though I suppose it would be yours now. I can get in touch with the bank and see about getting the contents of that box to you.”
“Yeah, that would be great.”
“Great. I’ll get back to you by tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Richard. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“Don’t mention it. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Yeah, talk to you soon.”
I hung up, feeling less than optimistic. Not because I didn’t think I could get into the metal box, but because I’d just found out that my grandpa also had a safe-deposit box filled with who knows what, and I didn’t even know about it. I was naive to have thought we’d shared everything with each other.
I drove home in silence, watching the New York winter pass by through the window and wondering if I was only bringing a world of hurt on myself by trying to find the answers.
Wyatt told me he would tell me everything whenever I was ready to hear it. Only, I didn’t know when that would be. A text chimed in when I got to the stoplight. I’d just read enough to know that the text was from Wyatt and that he wanted to take me out for dinner tonight, when the phone rang with a call from him.
“Hey,” I answered.
“Hey, baby. Did you get my message?”
“Yeah, I just saw part of it. You want to go out to eat tonight?” I asked.
“Yeah. My aunt flew in for a visit. I want you to meet her. Is that okay?”
I hesitated, thinking back to the picture I’d gotten off of Wyatt’s phone several weeks ago. “Yeah,” I answered. “Do you think she’ll like me?”
“Who wouldn’t love you?” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.
“Hmm. Okay. What time?”
“I’ll pick you up at seven?”
“Sounds great.”
***
My hands shook as I applied lipstick.
I was nervous to meet Wyatt’s aunt. Not only because she had probably been the most important
person in his life, but also because I couldn’t shake the feeling that I knew her from somewhere.
I applied a minimal amount of makeup, not wanting to overdo it, then looked over at my bed where I had laid out several outfits.
I didn’t know which one would make the best impression. I could wear a dress, but winter in New York was not kind, especially at night. I settled on a black cardigan, which blended nicely with my dark-purple shirt and jeans. Casual but classy.
I was out of my element. I had never met a boyfriend’s parents. And I knew his aunt wasn’t technically his parent, but she’d taken care of him since he was little, and I wanted to impress her. I wanted her to approve of me despite the age difference between Wyatt and me. An eleven-year age gap didn’t seem like a big deal when it was just me and him, but I often wondered how we looked to the outside world.
Was I considered immature?
That perhaps feeling good in his arms didn’t mean we looked good together. Like two mismatched buttons on the same shirt.
All of my insecurities were coming out to play, and I didn’t know how to shut off the voice inside my head that said we might not... fit.
My phone chimed a few minutes after seven, indicating that Wyatt was outside waiting for me. I put on my jacket and grabbed my purse, running out of the room, downstairs, and outside into the freezing air.
Wyatt stood in front of his car, his hands in his pocket, his dark hair a little messy from a long day, and his gray eyes smiling when he caught sight of me. He was perfect.
He had on a suit, and I didn’t think I would ever get used to how good he looked. No one should be that good-looking. “Hello there,” he greeted, his lips curving into that lopsided smile I loved so much.
“Hey.” I sounded breathless, even to my own ears.
“Are you ready?”
“As ready as I will ever be, I suppose.” I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. I looked up and planted a wet kiss on his jaw.
“Don’t be nervous,” he said, bending down to nibble on my ear. A shiver ran up and down my spine.
“I’m not.”
“It’s just dinner.”
“I know.”
“My aunt will love you.”
“Okay.”
He looked down and smiled. I loved the way his cheeks had turned red from the cold, and I loved it when he tightened his arms around me, blocking most of the brutal wind, and I was in love with him.
In a daze, I let him direct me to the passenger seat, closing the door after me before making his way to the driver’s seat. He had left the car on, and the inside was comfortably warm. I didn’t want to leave.
“Ready?” he asked me.
I nodded. “Do you have to pick up your aunt?”
He shook his head. “No, she’s meeting us there. The restaurant is inside the hotel she’s staying at.”
“She’s not staying with you?”
“No, she likes her own space. Besides, she knows I’m in a committed relationship, and she didn’t want to intrude on us.”
“I wouldn’t have minded,” I said. And I really wouldn’t have. Although I couldn’t deny that the fact that I wouldn’t have to be quiet when Wyatt and I had sex tonight was quite appealing. Something I hadn’t realized about myself before—I was loud during sex.
He shot me a knowing smile that told me he was thinking the same thing.
The drive there was long. New York traffic made its appearance, even if it had begun to snow and the air, I was sure, had turned almost frigid. By the time we pulled up to the Plaza Hotel, I was brimming with nerves.
The valet came out and opened the door for me. I smiled and waited under the awning by the entrance while Wyatt conversed with the valet. Then he walked over to me and held out his hand. I took it without hesitation, watching as excitement brightened his eyes. It was hard not to be excited for him, not when he looked like a little boy on Christmas morning.
We walked into the hotel and were greeted with bright lights, maroon carpet, and, best of all, heat. “This way,” Wyatt said, taking a left down a wide hallway. I saw the sign for the restaurant before I saw it.
The interior was decorated with cool colors of midnight-blue and black, and an attractive hostess greeted us by the door. Wyatt told her his aunt’s name, and she led us to a table in the back, away from the crowded bar and to something far more intimate. I was happy with the dim lighting, at least his aunt would have trouble picking up all of my imperfections.
The woman in question was sitting with her back to us. I noticed her slim figure first. She couldn’t be any older than mid-to-late forties. Her hair was longer than it had been in the picture, a medium length with light layers. It was straightened, falling seamlessly past her shoulders, and she was sipping a glass of wine.
Wyatt walked over to her first. She turned when he tapped her on the shoulder then leaned down, giving her a kiss on the cheek. She wore the brightest smile as she took in her nephew, her skin free of any makeup that I could see, but nonetheless still beautiful. Her bright green eyes were framed with thick, dark lashes no mascara could recreate, and her lips were a pale pink, the bottom lip fuller than the top, making her look like she was forever pouting.
“Aunt Erin, how are you?”
“Fine, now that you’re here. Take a step back so I can look at you,” she said, her eyes roaming his large body, as if looking for battle scars. “You look tired. Have you not been sleeping well? You work too much.”
Wyatt laughed, his gray eyes showing contentment. “Don’t worry about me. Everything is going well, you know. And Cole was just telling me how much he misses your home-cooked meals.”
“Well, tell him to visit me more often. The last time he was in Chicago for work, he was so busy with meetings and conference calls and whatnot that he barely had any time to really enjoy the trip.”
“I’ll be sure to tell him.” Wyatt looked at me then. He held out his hand, and I slowly went over to him, letting his big hand engulf mine, drawing comfort from that simple touch. “Aunty, I would like you to meet someone very important to me. You remember me mentioning that I was seeing someone?”
His aunt turned to me, surprise flickering across her eyes before she covered it up with a smile. I tried not to let my emotions show on my face, and I held out my hand. “Emery Caldwell. It’s so nice to meet you. I have heard nothing but wonderful things about you.” I saw her eyes flash with recognition when I introduced myself, but the look was gone so quickly, I wasn’t sure if I’d really seen it or if I was imagining it.
“It’s nice to meet you, Emery. You can call me Erin if you like.”
“Erin,” I said.
Erin was... hard to read, her green eyes giving nothing away. She was the kind of woman who had clearly learned early on how to hide her emotions. I knew, because I was the very same way. That didn’t bother me—I understood better than anyone how your emotions could make you vulnerable. What bothered me was what she was hiding. Her smile remained friendly, yet her eyes had turned cold once they met mine.
I had wanted her to like me so much, and hadn’t prepared for her disdain so soon after we met, that I was feeling out of my element.
She indicated the two empty chairs across from her. “Please sit down. I hope you’re hungry. I heard the chicken here is pretty good.”
Wyatt pulled out my chair, squeezing my shoulders in reassurance before taking his own seat. I wondered if he had seen his aunt’s frosty reception as well. The server came over then. Wyatt ordered a whiskey neat, and I ordered a soda. Something Erin took notice of right away.
“You don’t drink?”
I shook my head. “I’m not twenty-one yet.”
I swore her eyebrows twitched. “Oh? How old are you?”
“Twenty.”
“Wyatt, you didn’t tell me she was so young.”
“Not so young,” Wyatt responded. His hand came down under the table to grab mine.
“Girls your age are alwa
ys experimenting, right? Seeing what they can get with an older, more experienced man?”
I pulled my hand away. “I assure you, what Wyatt and I have is real. I can’t imagine being with anyone else.”
“So serious for your age, aren’t you?”
“Aunt Erin,” Wyatt said, the warning clear in his voice.
She adopted an innocent expression. “I am only curious. My only intention is to look out for you.”
“I can take care of myself. I have more than proven that to you over the years. And you don’t have to look out for me where Emery is concerned. I trust her completely.” There was something hidden in that statement, as if they were alluding to something in Wyatt’s past I wasn’t aware of. I couldn’t very well ask him about it. The only thing I could do was sit there silently, wondering where she might try to hit me next.
The rest of the dinner went much the same way. It did not matter what I told her, she always pointed out something that made me feel about two inches tall. It was clear that she disapproved of us being together, but it felt like there was more to it than that. Her hostility toward me was present the moment I told her my name.
And I couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t me specifically that she didn’t approve of, but the Caldwell name.
I let out a sigh of relief when the check came, and Wyatt took care of the bill. His aunt stood up, and we followed suit. She touched his cheek. “It was good to see you again. Stop by tomorrow, and we can spend the day touring New York.” It was clear the invitation had not been extended to me. I remained silent by his side, ignoring Wyatt’s arm around my shoulder. I did not want his touch then. I wanted to go home. I wanted to vent to Joey. I wanted to be anywhere else but here.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.
His aunt turned to me. “Emery.”
I forced a smile. “Erin.”
She turned and walked out of the restaurant. I waited until she was out of sight before shrugging off Wyatt’s arm and walking up front to get my coat.
We were silent on the ride home. It wasn’t until Wyatt pulled onto his block that I spoke. “I thought you were taking me home.”