Summer Reads Box Set: Volume 1

by Freethy, Barbara

"Tom picked up a new Internet client. Richie called in and said the film company shooting in Marin needs security guards for three more days. That's about it. Oh, and Josh called and said he got an A on his chemistry test, so can he please come back to work?"

  Riley smiled at that. "Good for him."

  "Good for you for making him care about his grades. You're pretty smart when it comes to teenagers and old guys. Women—now that's another story. And speaking of women, or woman in particular, are you going to be tagging along with Paige Hathaway all night, too? Just so I know where to reach you in case of emergency."

  He ignored her amused smile. "You can always reach me on my cell phone. You don't have to know where I am."

  "That's no fun. Seriously, Riley. Is this thing with Paige Hathaway business or funny business?"

  "It's none of your business," he said pointedly.

  "Just be careful," Carey warned. "Don't fall in love. Girls like Paige can break your heart."

  "That's never going to happen."

  Carey walked out of his office with a disbelieving laugh. But she was wrong. He had no intention of falling in love. Long-term commitments were not for him, and not even a beautiful, brown-eyed blonde was going to change that. Besides, he had more important things on his mind right now. He had a dragon to find.

  * * *

  When Jasmine opened her door, she was shocked to see her mother, An-Mei, on the doorstep. She couldn't remember the last time her mother had come to visit. They lived only a few blocks from each other, but the distance between them was as big as a continent.

  "Ma," she stuttered. "Is everything all right?"

  "No, all wrong," An-Mei said shortly, brushing past her into the apartment.

  Jasmine closed the door and waited for An-Mei to state the purpose of her visit. A flicker of nervousness ran down her spine as she watched her mother critically peruse the contents of her apartment. Her mother would find some fault with the way the furniture was arranged or the color of the painted walls. There would be something to criticize. She waited quietly, patiently, feeling as if she deserved whatever criticism was coming. Because she was bad; she'd always been bad. Her mother had told her so over and over again.

  Sometimes she wondered if anyone else saw the temper in the tiny, barely five-foot-tall woman in front of her with the long black braid down her back and the baggy clothes that covered her from head to toe. Jasmine couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her mother's bare legs or arms. Modesty was a virtue, An-Mei believed, along with many other virtues that Jasmine had never been able to live up to, even before the biggest sin of them all.

  She'd always been a disappointment. When she'd been born missing a finger, her mother had screamed in fury, according to her auntie Lin. Ever since then, Jasmine had been treated as an outcast. Her mother had once told her that the missing finger was the mark of shame she would grow into. And Jasmine hadn't disappointed her.

  By sleeping with a married man, she'd committed a terrible sin, and having an illegitimate baby made it even worse. Her mother probably wouldn't have spoken to her again if it hadn't been for her father's influence. His heart attack a few years earlier also had softened her mother's stance, perhaps made her realize that too many years had passed with this anger between them.

  Jasmine wouldn't have taken the scraps of affection if it hadn't been for Alyssa. She'd buried her pride and forged a tenuous relationship with her parents so that Alyssa would become part of the family. But that hadn't really happened despite her efforts. The sins of the mother were forever visited on the daughter.

  An-Mei walked over to the painting of the dragon that hung on the wall. She stared at it with piercing black eyes, then turned those same eyes on Jasmine. "You take down. Hide away. Never speak of dragon again." Her heavily accented voice was sharp, pointed, definite. Despite the fact she'd lived in San Francisco for fifty-some years, An-Mei still spoke as if she'd only recently gotten off the boat. Her heart had never really left China.

  "I saw it," Jasmine said somewhat defiantly. "I saw the dragon. It's real."

  "You are a liar. You make up stories."

  "I'm not lying. I saw the dragon." She watched her mother closely, seeing something in her eyes that looked like fear.

  "You see nothing. You are a bad girl."

  "I'm not a girl. I'm a middle-aged woman with a grown child of my own. When are you going to realize that?"

  "You send Alyssa to see your father. She make him worry about dragon. She tell him you in trouble. Mixed up in Hathaway robbery."

  "I'm not in trouble. But David Hathaway did show me a dragon statue that was taken from him later that evening. Someone else must have wanted it very badly." Jasmine paused, seeing the pulse beating rapidly in her mother's neck. An-Mei knew something about the dragon. But what? "I read a story about my dragon. I think there are two, and together they open a box," she continued.

  An-Mei didn't blink, her gaze unwavering.

  "I wonder if whoever took Mr. Hathaway's dragon has the other one."

  "If you know of such a set, you know there is a curse. Your dreams come from the curse reaching out to touch you. You must not let it touch you. And you must not touch the dragon."

  "I held it in my hands," Jasmine said with a shiver of uneasiness as she remembered the coolness of the bronze beneath her fingers.

  "Where is Alyssa?"

  "Alyssa? I don't know."

  "You must find her. You must make sure she is safe."

  "Why wouldn't she be safe?"

  "The curse is on first daughters."

  The words stabbed deep into her heart. So it was true, the story she and David had found. And something else was suddenly clear. "I'm a first daughter."

  "Yes," An-Mei said, meeting her gaze. "And your dreams have cursed you, too."

  "My dreams?" Jasmine echoed. "Or the dragon?"

  "No more!" An-Mei shouted, her eyes blazing.

  Jasmine took a step back, feeling suddenly afraid. But why did she fear her own mother? This small woman had cut her many times with unkind words, but she had never actually struck her. At least, she didn't think that had happened. Sometimes her childhood seemed like a vague, dull memory that never came into focus.

  "The gods are watching," An-Mei said, her voice quieter now but still sharp.

  Jasmine crossed her arms over her chest, fighting the impulse to look around and see if someone was watching. "Why can't you just tell me the truth? Did I see the dragon somewhere?"

  An-Mei stared at her for a long moment. "Yes. You see the dragon at the museum in Taiwan when we went there on a trip. I tell you don't touch, but you do. Bells go off. Guards come running. Lee almost go to jail. You touched it, and you were cursed."

  Jasmine stared at her mother in confusion. The story sounded convincing, but it was so innocent, so bland. Why hadn't they told her before where she'd seen the dragon? Why pretend it didn't exist, that it was only in her dreams? Was her mother lying?

  It seemed an impossible thought. An-Mei had punished each of her children for every small lie she had caught them in. She believed that lies told eventually came back and stabbed you in the heart. In fact, she thought heart attacks were caused by too many lies. When her husband had had his attack, An-Mei had prayed for forgiveness every minute of every hour until his heart was beating strongly again. Which made Jasmine wonder something else. What were the lies her father had told?

  "Please," An-Mei said. "No more, Jasmine. No more talk of dragons. Stop now, before it is too late."

  Jasmine had the terrible feeling it was already too late for her. But maybe not for Alyssa. She had to find her daughter. She had to make sure Alyssa stayed away from the dragon before she, too, was forever cursed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  "Alyssa, come in," Ben said, as he opened the door to his apartment. "You're right on time. Can I take your coat?"

  Alyssa was tempted to hang on to her coat so she wouldn't get too comfortable, wouldn't let down her guard, but it was w
arm in the apartment, so she took off her suede jacket and handed it to Ben. Underneath she wore a red knit sweater and a pair of black pants.

  "Nice sweater," he said approvingly. "At least you haven't shunned red."

  "Why would I? The Chinese don't have a monopoly on the color."

  He smiled at her. "It's still considered lucky, you know."

  "I look good in red. Don't read anything more into it than that."

  "You do look good." He hung up her coat in the closet. "Joey is out for the evening, so make yourself comfortable."

  "You still live with your brothers?"

  "Henry lives in Seattle, but Joey lives here. He has a night class. So it's just you and me."

  "Great," she murmured warily. A few minutes with Ben had reminded her of why she had avoided him all these years. He was too attractive, too likeable. And he had a way of seeing into her head that made her feel uncomfortable. Besides that, he reminded her of the past and a lifestyle she'd rather forget. Even now, looking around his apartment, she saw all the signs of a traditional Chinese family getting ready for the upcoming New Year's celebrations. There were fresh flowers everywhere as well as a platter of oranges and tangerines and a candy tray that she was sure was filled with eight varieties of dried sweet fruit.

  "My mother," Ben said quickly, following her gaze. "She brings flowers and fruit every day. I tell her we have more than enough, but she won't stop. She wants to make sure we have good fortune in the New Year. Would you like a drink?"

  "Absolutely," she said with a fervor that made him laugh.

  "I take it that means alcoholic."

  "If you have anything like that—wine, beer?"

  "I'll get you some wine."

  "Thanks." While he was getting her a drink, she looked around his apartment. The furniture was mostly old and comfortable. Nothing really matched, and it was clear that it was a male-dominated room, no traces of female sentiment anywhere in sight. Three tall bookcases overflowed with books, and she moved closer to take a look at the titles. "Have you read all of these?" she asked, taking the glass of wine from Ben's hand when he returned to the room.

  "Most of them."

  She pulled one out of the stack. "The History of Porcelain. That looks fascinating."

  "It is, if you like porcelain." He tipped his head toward the couch. "Sit down. Tell me what you've been doing with your life since you moved away from Chinatown."

  "Getting a college degree, a job, an apartment. I live in Noe Valley with three girls I went to school with," she said, taking a seat.

  "Sounds good. I heard you graduated from Berkeley with a four-point GPA."

  "Who told you that?"

  "Someone in the neighborhood."

  "I can't imagine how they'd know." She didn't keep in touch with any of the kids she'd grown up with, just a few of her cousins, and that was because they insisted on keeping up with her.

  "How's your mother? I haven't seen her in a while." He sat down in a chair facing her.

  "She's all right, I guess." Alyssa set her glass of wine on the coffee table between them. She had the sudden urge to tell Ben everything that had happened, which was unusual. She always kept her thoughts private. It was easy to keep quiet with her other friends, none of whom were Asian, because they wouldn't understand the way her family operated. But Ben wouldn't need long explanations. He'd seen firsthand how she and her mother had been treated by the rest of the Chen family.

  "Alyssa?" His gentle voice called her back to the present.

  "Sorry. I was just thinking."

  "Want to talk about it?"

  She looked into his kind eyes and knew she could trust him. "My mother might be in some trouble. David Hathaway brought that dragon statue to my mother's apartment the day he was assaulted. The police came to visit her. They asked all kinds of questions about where she was, and why he was there, and where he was going when he left. But she couldn't tell them anything, because she didn't know."

  "Why would David Hathaway visit your mother?" Ben asked curiously.

  "He purchased several of her paintings in the past.”

  "Right. I forgot about that. Is that how you know Paige?"

  She hesitated, tempted to share it all, but in the end her guard came back up. "Yes."

  "Now, tell me again why he took the dragon to your mother. Surely that didn't have anything to do with her painting?"

  Damn, he was too smart. She should have remembered how quick his mind was. She cleared her throat, stalling. "Actually, my mother painted a dragon that looks exactly like the one he found. That's why he wanted to show it to her. And that's why I'm interested in finding out more about it. You said you'd research it for me. Did you find out anything?"

  "Are you going to run out the door as soon as I give you my answer? I've worked very hard on dinner."

  "Of course I won't run out the door. That would be rude."

  "I did make Chinese food. Still sure you'll stay?"

  "Yes," she said, seeing the challenge in his eyes. "I know you think I'm wrong to feel the way I do, but I wasn't raised to be proud of who I am. I was raised to be ashamed of my mixed blood."

  "You can't run away from who you are, Alyssa."

  "My God, Ben, you think I don't know that? I've spent half my life wishing I could wake up in a different body and be someone else."

  "You shouldn't feel that way. I hate that your family made you think you were unworthy. It was wrong."

  "Well, I don't think they'll agree with you. But it doesn't matter anymore. I have a good life away from here. And I'm never coming back."

  "I know," he said softly, meeting her gaze. "I figured out a long time ago that you probably hated Chinatown more than me, but it was easier to get rid of us both."

  His words reminded her of how much there was between them. "Maybe this wasn't a good idea," she said.

  "I want you to stay for dinner."

  "I don't want to discuss the past, Ben. There's no point. We broke up a long time ago."

  "You broke up with me."

  "You would have done it eventually, if I hadn't. We want different things out of life."

  "We used to want each other," he reminded her. "I don't think that desire is gone. I felt it the moment you walked into my office this afternoon."

  She swallowed hard at the look in his eyes. "Ben, I only came here to discuss the dragon. If that's not going to happen, I should leave."

  "It will happen. I made you a promise, and I'll keep it. As for the rest, we'll see how it goes. Now stay here, drink your wine, and let me show you what a good cook I am. I've got some appetizers you will love."

  And if she stayed too long, she'd fall in love with more than his appetizers. He was right. The desire was still there, maybe even stronger than before. When had he become so good-looking, so grown-up, so manly? Why was she feeling such a strong attraction to him? They should have felt comfortable around each other, like two old shoes, not tense and nervous and on edge. She picked up her glass of wine and took a long sip, willing herself to relax. This was just Ben. This was just dinner. Nothing was going to happen.

  "So, what have you been doing with your life?" Alyssa asked a while later as they finished the incredible dinner Ben had prepared. She was feeling calmer now that she had a full stomach. She rested her arms on the dining room table and smiled at him. "Are you happy writing only for the Chinese audience? Is that enough for you?"

  "Probably not," he said, surprising her.

  "Really?"

  "You're not the only one with ambition, Alyssa. I'd like to work for one of the bigger metropolitan newspapers, or maybe an arts magazine "

  "That might mean moving away from Chinatown."

  "It's not a ball and chain around my leg. I could leave—if I had a good reason." He paused. "I like your hair. I'm glad you left it long."

  "It's too thin and too straight."

  "It's perfect. You're perfect."

  "I'm not," she said with a shake of her head.

>   "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you."

  Alyssa got to her feet, suddenly restless under his intense gaze. She walked over to a desk that held a computer and more books. "What's all this?"

  "Research on your dragon." He came up behind her. "I found out that the set I told you about was discovered in an archaeological dig in southern China in the early 1900s. The pieces were sent to China's National Palace Museum, but at some point they were lost."

  "From a museum? That sounds odd."

  "There was a lot of turmoil and war in China. Many artifacts were lost."

  "My mother only saw one dragon. She didn't see a box or another dragon."

  "It's not surprising that the pieces have been separated. It would probably be more shocking if they were still together."

  "True." She picked up a pile of newspaper clippings. "What are these?"

  "I'm doing a story on the Chinese New Year celebrations in San Francisco, a composite look at the traditions. My cousin Fae is going to be Miss Chinatown this year."

  "That's great. She must be excited."

  "She is, because she's the third generation." He flipped through the photos on the desk. "Here's the one of her mother getting crowned, and here's the one of her grandmother."

  Alyssa looked at the photos. The Miss Chinatown Pageant was a very big deal. When she was a young girl, she'd even had thoughts of trying out for it herself. Until she was reminded that only a pure Chinese girl could win.

  "See anyone familiar in this picture?" Ben asked her, pointing to the one of Fae's grandmother. It had been taken at the party after the pageant, and there were a number of people in the picture, but none really jumped out at her. Although...

  "Is that my grandfather?" she asked in astonishment, recognizing the familiar profile.

  "Yes, and he's talking to Wallace Hathaway. David Hathaway's father."

  And her grandfather.

  A shiver ran down her spine at the connection.

  "Hathaway was probably the Master of Ceremonies for the pageant," Ben continued. "They usually had someone from the city council or chamber of commerce announce the winner."