by I. T. Lucas
“Oh, well. He asked about the dish of the day, and I told him spaghetti. And then he asked why not the fancy stuff I used to make at the beginning, and I told him that figuring the right quantities was over my head and that it was too much work. And then he said I should intern with Gerard in his restaurant. I’ve never been to By Invitation Only, but I heard it’s the best.”
Sheesh, when Carol was on a roll, she was on a roll. The entire speech was delivered in such a rush that Nathalie had to replay it in her head to get what Carol had been trying to say.
Apparently, pregnancy was also slowing her brain.
“I think it’s a wonderful idea. But who is going to fill your place? I can’t manage all by myself.”
“Onidu. Anandur said he has nothing to do while Amanda is at work.”
Hmm, interesting idea.
Now that she knew the “butlers” were a sort of super-duper advanced robot, Nathalie had less of a problem with asking them to do things for her. Syssi was loaning her Okidu to help out with cleaning her apartment. Nathalie even let him do the laundry. Mainly because she had no choice. Running the café was using up all of her energy. At the end of the day, all she wanted to do was to put her feet up and vegetate on the couch.
“Are you going to talk to Amanda about it?”
Carol shook her head. “I asked Anandur to do it. She intimidates the hell out of me.”
“Why?” Amanda’s beauty was off-putting to most women, but Carol was gorgeous in her own way. In fact, as impossible as it seemed, she was sexier than Amanda. Her beauty was softer and more feminine.
Carol straightened her apron, brushing off invisible crumbs. “I’m a simple kind of girl, a pleb, while she’s Annani’s daughter, a princess, and a bigshot professor.”
“I hear you. But she’s nice, not stuck-up at all.”
“Whatever. I’m glad Anandur agreed to ask her for me. I still have to talk to Kian about interning with Gerard, and I’m trying to summon up courage for that.”
Nathalie patted her shoulder. “You can do it. You’re the toughest woman I’ve ever met, and everyone respects the hell out of you. No one is going to refuse you anything.”
That seemed to boost Carol’s confidence. “You know what? You’re right. I’m not above using their misplaced feelings of guilt to my advantage.”
“Can someone make me a cappuccino or should I come back later?” Ingrid smiled at them from the other side of the counter.
“I’ve got it.” Carol patted Nathalie’s arm. “You just sit and rest for a little bit.”
“Thanks.” Nathalie leaned her back against the counter, trying to get comfortable, when her phone vibrated in her apron’s pocket.
With an effort, she reached around her belly and pulled it out. “Hey, Jackson, what’s up?” Hopefully nothing, because she didn’t have the energy to deal with a single thing.
“We had a strange visitor in here, and I thought you’d want to know about it.”
“Strange how?”
“An old lady came in, asking about Fernando and you. She said she used to be a customer before moving to Florida.”
“What’s her name?”
“Hilda.”
“I remember a Hilda. She moved to a retirement home in Florida over a decade ago. Why do you think she’s strange? She’s just an old lady.”
There was a quiet moment before Jackson answered. “She looks like an old lady, and she sounds like an old lady, she even acts like an old lady, but she doesn’t smell like one. She smells like a young woman and a lot of latex.”
“A disguise?”
“Yes. Professionally done. If I weren’t who I am, I would’ve never noticed a thing. And she has the act down to perfection. Meryl Streep has nothing on her.”
There were quite a few movie studios in Glendale, so it might have been an actress testing out her costume and her acting skill on unsuspecting coffee shop patrons.
“This is Los Angeles, Jackson. She is probably an actress.”
“Who knew to ask about you and Fernando by name? And who pulled out an old customer’s name that you actually recognized?”
He was right, a random actress wouldn’t have known that, and Nathalie didn’t remember having any regulars from the nearby studios.
Who could it be?
Her next guess was so preposterous that Nathalie berated herself for even thinking it. Her mother wouldn’t just show up out of the blue, and although she used to dress older than she looked, Eva had never resorted to such elaborate costumes.
Besides, Nathalie would’ve recognized her own mother no matter what she was wearing, and Eva would’ve known that. A daughter would know her mother’s voice, her syntax, her mannerism, and no actress was good enough to hide all of it.
Eva couldn’t have known that Nathalie wouldn’t be there when she showed up, and if she’d gone to such length to hide her identity, she wouldn’t have risked it.
But what other explanation could there be?
“Is she still there?”
“No, she left but said that she might be back later. She even asked to see the dinner menu. I have a feeling she was hoping I’ll call you, and that you’ll come.”
Did she dare hope?
“I’ll be there.”
“I thought you would.”
Nathalie’s first instinct was to call Andrew and have him come pick her up, but then she reconsidered. Bhathian should be the one to accompany her.
God, she would hate to get his hopes up for nothing. Again. But going without him was out of the question.
Taking a deep breath, she dialed his number.
He picked up immediately. “Nathalie, is everything all right?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, Bhathian. Can you take a break and drive me to my old place?” Hopefully, he wasn’t teaching a class.
“Sure. When?”
“As soon as you can. Right now would be good.”
“What happened, did Jackson mess up?”
“No, everything at the coffee shop is fine too. I’ll tell you on the way.”
“Give me ten minutes to wrap things up.”
“Okay.”
She clicked off and put the phone on the counter, then turned to Carol. “I hate to leave you alone here, but I need to go to my old place for a couple of hours.”
Carol waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. Worst case scenario I’ll put up the ‘we’re closed’ sign and get rid of everyone.” She winked.
Not funny. Knowing Carol she would do it without batting an eyelid.
Nathalie took her apron off and bent down to get her purse from the bottom drawer under the counter. Damn it. It had been difficult enough on the way down, but straightening up on her own was impossible.
“Here, let me give you a hand.” Carol came to her rescue.
“Thanks.”
Nathalie pulled out a compact mirror and a foldable brush from her purse. While working, she always kept her hair in a tight braid so it wouldn’t absorb the smells, but she wanted to look her best in case she was really about to see her mother, and having her hair free of the braid and brushed was all she could do. Makeup didn’t really do much for her, and all of her maternity clothes were functional and comfortable but not flattering.
Nathalie snorted. As if anything could make her look good with the huge belly walking a few feet ahead of her. She needed a wheelbarrow to carry that thing.
Brushing out her hair wasn’t going to improve her appearance by much, but Nathalie was anxious, and it gave her something to do while waiting for Bhathian.
Shit, he might be pissed that she hadn’t told him to change. Coming straight from class, he was probably wearing his nylon training pants and T-shirt. Not the impression he would want to make on Eva after not seeing her for more than thirty years.
When she saw him coming out of the elevator, Nathalie realized her worries had been uncalled for. Bhathian was impressive no matter what he was wearing. With his height and his muscle
s and that chiseled jaw, he was every woman’s dream. And those gray eyes… Eva would find him just as irresistible as she had that first time.
Nathalie shook her head.
That old woman hadn’t been her mother. Maybe Jackson’s sense of smell had gone haywire. Maybe he’d smelled someone else that had been standing next to the very real Hilda.
Heck, if it were really Hilda, Nathalie should take Fernando with her, not Bhathian.
Chapter 11: Eva
Across the street, from behind the used books storefront window, Eva watched Fernando’s café, listening in through an earpiece. Her bat hearing had its limits. Two closed doors with a wide street in between them was too much even for her. But that was what technology was good for.
She’d left behind a small listening device, gluing it to the front counter’s underside with a piece of gum. The dinner menu Jackson had handed her was the perfect size to hide what she’d been doing under it, while her body was blocking the view from behind.
No one had seen anything.
The bookstore’s owner was getting annoyed with her for sitting in the only chair and pretending to read for the past hour, but she knew he wouldn’t dare say anything.
That was the beauty of her disguise.
Telling an old woman to beat it would’ve been rude. Besides, no one wondered about her earpiece.
Eva was excited. She had no doubt that the boy had called either Fernando or Nathalie. Most likely Nathalie since Fernando was incapable of driving in his condition. She’d seen Jackson duck into the kitchen the moment the door had closed behind her, but even though she’d put on the earpiece as soon as she’d exited the café, she hadn’t heard him make the call. He must’ve gone out the back to make it.
A shame, she was curious about what he’d said.
How he’d known something was off about her still mystified Eva. Maybe it was in the same way that she’d known there was something different about him. Perhaps one misfit could sniff out another.
A car stopped and then eased into a parking spot a few doors down from the café. The driver got out—a tall and muscular guy with a military buzz cut. Hurrying to the other side, he moved with surprising fluidity for such a big man.
There was something familiar about him, but his face was turned around, and all she could see was his impressive back.
Yum.
Eva’s hands practically itched with the need to run up and down that muscular back…
Enough!
She wasn’t on an official assignment, but she wasn’t sitting in a club and looking for a hookup either. A pity, though. And she couldn’t blame her shameful wantonness either. Any woman would have wanted her hands on that.
Eva sighed.
The difference between her and most other women was that they would just drool and daydream, while Eva would have no problem getting him to go with her. When a woman had lived as long as she did and was reasonably attractive, she knew that men were simple creatures and not much was needed to lure them.
Not in her current getup, though. The only way a guy like that would touch an old lady was to help her cross the street.
Waiting impatiently to see if the face was as handsome as the rest of him, she was disappointed when he bent low to open the passenger door and helped a woman out.
A very pregnant woman…
“Oh my God!” She gasped, sudden tears flowing in rivulets down her latex cheeks and making a mess of her careful makeup.
“What’s wrong, ma’am?” asked a worried teenager crouching beside her. “Can I help you? Do you need me to call a doctor or something?”
She patted his head while pulling a large handkerchief from her satchel and holding it in front of her face. “Thank you, young man. But I’m okay. It was just such a sad story.” She pointed to the book lying face down in her lap.
His expression relaxed and he smiled. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, yes. Off you go.” She shooed him away. “Let an old woman enjoy her romance novel.”
“You scared the crap out of me, lady,” he said and walked away.
Thank God.
But not soon enough.
Her Nathalie and the young man who’d helped her out of the car had already entered the café, and Eva had missed her chance to see his face.
Was that Nathalie’s husband?
Guilt assailed her for thinking lustful thoughts about her daughter’s man. One thing was apparent, though. She and Nathalie had similar tastes in men.
“Hi, Gordon, where is Jackson?” Eva heard Nathalie’s voice through the earpiece.
More tears came gushing out.
“On a supermarket run. He should be back in a few moments,” the guy named Gordon answered.
“We’ll wait for him upstairs.”
“I’m sorry that we don’t have a table available for you.”
“Don’t be. Business is good.”
Her sweet, smart Nathalie. She’d always had a good head on her shoulders.
“Do you want me to bring you something?”
“No, thank you. I’ll just grab a couple of bottles of Pellegrino on the way.”
Eva braced her hands against the chair’s armrests and pushed herself up, then lifted the handkerchief to her face.
“Do you have a restroom here I can use?” she asked the owner.
He grimaced and snatched a key from under the counter. “Follow me.” He led her to the back and unlocked the bathroom door. “Here you go, ma’am.”
“Thank you.” What a nice guy.
Eva locked the door behind her and lowered the toilet lid to put her satchel on top of it. Pulling out several jars of makeup, she lined them up on the small vanity and started fixing the damage she’d done.
With Nathalie and her husband gone from the vicinity of the listening device, Eva had no more use for the earpiece and removed it. She wondered why Nathalie’s husband hadn’t said a word, not even hello.
It wasn’t as if she had a problem with that, Eva liked the quiet types. Men who kept on jabbering annoyed her—like Fernando before the dementia. The man had been spending entire days on his feet, working from before sunrise to sunset, and still had had the energy to talk nonstop with his customers.
They’d loved him for it. Eva couldn’t stand it.
But then hearing one’s husband flirt with other women could have had something to do with it. He hadn’t known she’d been aware of his whispered endearments and the responses they had garnered. For Fernando’s and Nathalie’s safety, Eva’s strange abilities had to remain hidden from everyone, including her husband and daughter.
Pretending to be clueless about Fernando’s extramarital activities must’ve been the best performance of her life.
With a sigh, Eva examined her work from several angles. The disguise was once again flawless, but would it fool her own daughter?
It should.
More than a decade had passed since Nathalie had seen old Hilda, and Eva had done a good job of reconstructing the woman’s appearance from memory. Height was the only thing Eva couldn’t disguise, but that was why she’d chosen Hilda. They were both about five foot seven inches tall. Hilda might have been a little taller, but she had a hunched back.
Aside from her amber-colored eyes, nothing of Eva’s own face was recognizable, and she had a solution for that as well—tinted contact lenses. They irritated her eyes, but she had to put them in. If she wanted to see her daughter up close, there was no other way. Dark sunglasses didn’t go with the old lady costume, and certainly not indoors.
As to her voice, she could rasp. Hilda had been a heavy smoker.
Chapter 12: Bhathian
“I’m going downstairs to check on the table situation.” Bhathian pushed off the couch. The waiting was killing him. The old woman Jackson had described probably wasn’t Eva in disguise, but on the remote chance that she was, Bhathian wanted to see her as soon as she came in.
If she ever came back. She’d told Jackson th
at she might. But that had probably been just polite talk.
Nathalie lifted her feet and put them on the ottoman Jackson had added to the room’s furnishings. “We’ve been here less than five minutes.”
Bhathian glanced at his watch. It seemed longer. “It wouldn’t hurt to check.”
“Fine. But don’t scare the customers away with your scowl.”
That was exactly what he was planning to do. If there was no table available, he was going to stand there and glower until there was.
Jackson met him on the staircase. “I was just coming up to call you guys. Gordon has a booth for you.”
“Good.” Bhathian reversed course and went back to what used to be Nathalie’s den and was now Jackson’s bedroom.
He offered her a hand up. “Come on. We have a booth.”
She let him pull her to her feet and groaned. “I feel like a beached whale. I can’t even tie my shoes anymore.”
Bhathian patted her shoulder. “Just a little bit longer.” He wasn’t good at that father thing, or giving support, and not for lack of trying. Fernando, even in his current diminished mental state, was doing a better job, constantly giving Nathalie compliments on how glowing she looked, and how proud he was of her. The guy was a natural. Or maybe he just benefited from years of practice doing the father gig.
The booth Gordon was saving for them was the last one in the back of the coffee shop, but it was next to the front window. Bhathian could watch the street for anyone approaching the café’s front door.
“What can I get you?” Gordon asked.
“Coffee,” Bhathian said without taking his eyes off the street.
“For me too. And a glass of water,” Nathalie told the boy.
“Are you going to keep staring out the window the entire time we are here?”
“Yes.”
Nathalie chuckled. “In that case, I’m going to entertain myself by reading a book on my phone.”
“Go ahead.” He waved a hand.
It was good that Nathalie was taking the whole thing so calmly, but he couldn’t understand why. How come she wasn’t excited, or anxious?