by Leslie North
“Okay, thanks for the tip.” She perused the choices. “So how’d you find this place?”
“Mark’s sister owns it.” He sat back as a young bus boy set out silverware and fresh placemats for them. He partially stood and peered over the top of the crowds inside before slumping back into his seat. “Don’t see Leila in the back though. Might be her day off.”
Mercy nodded, not sure what to say next. She tucked her hair behind her ear and stared out at the water. “Being near the beach is nice. We don’t have a lot of that in New Orleans even though we’re close to the Gulf.”
“I visited NOLA once, a few years ago, when they closed the Naval Activity Base in Algiers.”
She sat back as the waiter brought their drinks. They both ordered burgers and fries, then handed the server their menus. “I remember when that happened. That base had been there forever.”
“One-hundred-ten-years,” Vann leaned his forearms on the table and Mercy did her best not to notice how tan and solid and manly they were beneath the fine dusting of dark hair on his skin.
“My parents hosted a banquet for all the displaced servicemen and their families afterward, to help raise money. I handled all the logistics for Queen Antoinette’s—accounting, supply chain, distribution of labor—it was a huge project. So rewarding though. And it all came off without a hitch.” She smiled and sat back, shoving her straw in her water.
“There,” Vann said, pointing at her.
Mercy frowned and checked the front of her T-shirt. Had she spilled something down her front already? That would be par for her course these days. She didn’t see anything. “There what?”
“The way you spoke about your work for Queen Antoinette’s.”
“What about it?”
“You need to have the same confidence you feel for your job in everything you do.”
“Oh.” She exhaled and stared at her lap. “That’s why I’m here.”
He sat back and crossed his arms. “I can teach you the skills, but the rest has to come from inside you.” Vann narrowed his gaze. “Tell me about your family.”
“What would you like to know?” She looked up and bit her lip. “That wasn’t already on my application.”
“You have three brothers. All older?”
“Yep.”
“Bet that made for some sibling rivalry.”
She shrugged. “A little, I suppose. We’re all part of Queen Antoinette’s. Mom and Dad are both amazing cooks, and even though they’ve stepped back from day-to-day operations as they’ve gotten older, they’re still responsible for all the new dishes on the menus nationwide.” She smiled at the thought of her parents’ loving marriage—forty years and still going strong. One day Mercy hoped to find the same kind of everlasting bond with a special man. “Each of my brothers heads their own branches of the restaurant. Alanzo’s in San Francisco, Gregory’s in Chicago, and Phillip’s in New York City.”
“And you?”
“Me?”
“You’re still at home in New Orleans? Do you like sticking close to the nest or are you longing to spread your wings and fly?” Vann took a sip of his shake and a tiny dot of chocolate clung to the corner of his full lips. Mercy had the sudden, irrational urge to lick it off.
Instead, she coughed to clear the constriction in her throat. “I love my parents and I love Queen Antoinette’s. I wouldn’t want to work anywhere else. But yeah, I’d like to blaze my own trail. After I got my MBA from Harvard, I looked at our business plan and saw the enormous potential for overseas growth. We’re already in every major US city, why not go global? I talked to my parents about it and they loved the idea, except they refused to let me head the international division.” She snorted and shook her head. “I graduated summa cum laude. I speak four languages. I know that business inside and out, yet to them I’m still their little girl who needs to be protected.”
“They’re not wrong,” Vann said.
Mercy scowled. “Excuse me?”
“The world’s a dangerous place. People are killed every day. New terrorist attacks happen all the time. In the blink of an eye, those you love and care for could be gone.” His expression turned dark and stormy. “You have to be prepared to do whatever’s necessary to stay safe. They love you. They don’t want to see anything happen to you.”
“I get that. But I still have a life to lead.” Angry heat prickled up from beneath her T-shirt. “They can’t keep me locked away forever.”
“No, they can’t.” Vann sat back as the waiter delivered their food. “So, now you’re my problem.”
Grabbing the ketchup bottle, Mercy squirted some on her fries while glaring at him. “Don’t sound so enthusiastic about it. I am paying you good money to be here, remember?”
He straightened the toppings on his burger then applied neat dollops of ketchup and mustard before smoothing his napkin onto his lap, and then finally taking a bite, chewing and swallowing before speaking again. “And Brothers In Arms appreciates your business, now more than ever.”
She’d shoved fries in her mouth then wiped a glob of ketchup off her chin. “I read the news article about the accident with the Diesel Dome collapse as part of my research before choosing to come here. I’m glad your friend is okay now.”
Vann nodded, not meeting her gaze. “Mark’s doing better, but he’s still not completely healed. His fiancée, Geneva, wants him to go to PT for his hand.”
“He doesn’t want to go?”
“Nope. Doesn’t want to be away from the business.” Vann wiped his mouth. “Brothers In Arms means a lot to us. We got a lot of bad PR after the accident, a lot of people questioning whether we should shut the whole compound down and condemn it as unsafe.”
“Wow. That must be hard. I get it though. My family feels the same way about Queen Antoinette’s. Like it’s part of us. We’d be devastated if anyone tried to shut it down.”
“Exactly.” Vann took a large bite of his burger then squinted at the far corner of the deck and frowned. He swallowed hard then wiped his mouth. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” Mercy twisted in her seat to peer behind her. The middle-aged guy sitting at the table in the corner looked vaguely familiar. He was with a bleached blonde and another man with brown hair and glasses. She turned back to Vann, frowning. “Who’s that guy sitting at the table in the corner?”
“His name’s Frank Sutton. He’s running for a Congressional seat in our district.”
“Huh.” Mercy gobbled up a few fries. The food here was awesome. Her fries had some kind of light coating on them—savory with a hint of spice—that made them extra crunchy on the outside and tender on the inside. And her burger had been dipped in the famous Coney Island sauce they advertised on their sign outside, so the chili flavors blended with the beef and onions perfectly. She’d have to see if they’d give her the secret recipes to take home to her parents before she left Ortega. “I take it you’re not a fan?”
“Hell. No.” Vann devoured another bite of his burger then took a sip of his shake. “Especially after what happened with his supporters.”
Something in Mercy’s memory clicked. That’s where she’d seen the guy before, on the national news. “Oh, right. There was a scandal and a fight? Wasn’t someone killed?”
“Yeah. Tim Rigsdale, head of a local white supremacist coalition called The American Way Group. After what he pulled, that bastard deserved what he got.”
“What happened?” From the name-calling and level of animosity in Vann’s usually cool tone, she knew it must’ve been something bad. “What did he do?”
“Well, let’s see. That story you read? He’s the one who sabotaged our Diesel Dome obstacle and almost killed Mark for starters. Then the asshole had Mark kidnapped soon after he left the hospital and held him prisoner in his wine cellar. Would’ve shot the fucker myself if someone hadn’t done it before me.”
Okay then.
“Problem is,” Vann said. “He wasn’t acting alone. So, whoever was working with
him is still out there, ready to murder again.”
“Murder?”
“Yeah. Mark, Jace and I helped prove that a recent rash of SEAL veteran suicides weren’t suicides at all. They were murdered, and then covered up to make it look like the guys killed themselves.” Vann took another bite of food then stared out at the ocean in the distance. “My guess is that’s why they’ve made Brothers In Arms a target.”
“Target for what?”
“There’ve been some bogus news stories circulating about our business, false data about our safety record. Things like that.” He finished the last of his food then sat back and sighed. “There seems to have been a real shitstorm lately of anti-military rhetoric. We’re all ex-SEALs, so it puts a bull’s eye on our backs.”
“I’m sorry.” Shocked, Mercy didn’t know quite what to say. Even in her brief stint at the compound, it was obvious to her how much the business meant to Vann and how loyal he was to his buddies. “And you think this Frank Sutton guy is involved somehow?”
“Given the fact Tim Rigsdale was one of his biggest supporters, yeah, I do.” He shook his head. “Can’t prove it though. He’s got some powerful people protecting him right now. Until I can gather enough information to prove his involvement, I need to lay low and continue business as usual.”
Mercy ate for several minutes, only the sound of the waves crashing and the lonely caw of the seagulls breaking the awkward silence. She still had no idea how to respond to the story he’d shared. Finally, she finished the last of her fries then pushed her basket away. The food had been simple but delicious and she was stuffed. She sat back and watched the sun lowering over the horizon. Streaks of brilliant reds, purples and indigo shaded the sky and made her miss the sunsets over the Gulf at home. “So, what about your family? Are they from around here?”
“No. Wyoming.” He finished his last bite of burger just as the server arrived with their check. Vann snatched it away before Mercy could grab it. “This is my treat. I invited you.”
“But I owe you for earlier today. Please let me pay.”
“A gentleman always pays.”
“This isn’t a date.”
He stared at her a second, a hint of color rising over his high cheekbones. “No, it’s not. But I’ll still pay.”
“Fine.” Mercy sat back and watched him pull out his wallet. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He pulled out a twenty and a ten and set them on the table. “My parents are currently traveling the country in an RV.”
“Cool.”
“Not really. My father’s goal is to visit every Cherokee pow-wow in the nation before Christmas.”
“Sounds like fun. You’re Native American then?”
“Half Cherokee, on my dad’s side. My mom’s white. She puts up with his crazy ideas because he gets a good pension from the Navy.” He smiled, his teeth white and straight against his tanned skin. “And because she loves him, I suppose.”
“Is that why you became a SEAL, because of your father?” She found him fascinating and wanted to learn everything about him.
“Probably.” Vann stared out across the beach. “I remember being little and my mom taking me down to see him in Coronado. He wasn’t a SEAL though, he worked in navigation. I suppose that’s where I get my tracking abilities from. He’s like a walking, talking GPS.”
“Nice.” Mercy chuckled. “You’re a tracker too, huh? A man of many talents.”
Vann watched her for a moment, his expression unreadable. “I take my business very seriously. I’ll do everything in my power to save Brothers In Arms and restore our good reputation.”
“Even take on a loser like me, eh?”
“Stop it.” His commanding tone brooked no argument. “Do not talk about yourself that way. Our words affect our energy. Energy is what surrounds us and binds us. Energy is what connects us to nature and the world. Energy is what will allow us to succeed or fail.”
“Wow.” Mercy blinked at him several times, trying to absorb all his inner meaning. “That’s pretty profound. Is that part of your Native American heritage?”
“Yes. Among other things.”
“What other things?” she asked, then looked away. “Sorry. Don’t mean to be nosy. I just find all this really fascinating. I’m not really a religious person, but I am spiritual. I love being out in nature and hiking, just connecting with the life around me. It helps relax me.”
He smiled, watching her closely for a second before continuing. “Well, let’s see. When I was seven-years-old my father sent me, his only child, on a vision quest into the Wyoming flatlands. Three days I spent alone, no food, no water, no one to call for help.”
“Holy shit.” Mercy sat forward, reaching across the table to lay her hand atop his before she realized what she was doing. His skin felt warm and soft beneath her fingers and tingles of awareness zinged up her arm from their point of contact. “Weren’t you terrified? You were a little boy.”
“For the first two days, yeah. The third day, though, something happened. I can’t explain it, but it’s like a door opened inside me that allowed me to take in the nature around me, allowed me to see things for the first time—the blue skies, the warm sun, the animals and trees. I became a part of them and they became a part of me.” He shook his head, stared down at their hands. “Maybe it was starvation or dehydration or who knows what, but ever since I’ve felt the same connection to the land, to the energy around me. I sense a greater power within you Mercy, but you are afraid to let it out. My goal is to teach you how to access it and embrace it.”
Mesmerized by his words and his presence, she nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay.” Vann stood and helped her from her seat. “We should get you home now. You’ve got another long day of training tomorrow.”
Disappointment niggled inside her. After all his talk of energy and connection and the power inside her, she felt like a balloon ready to pop. She wasn’t ready to return to her lonely hotel room yet. She wanted to explore the land around them, see if she could find some of Vann’s amazing peace for herself. As they headed back out into the parking lot, Mercy shuffled along behind him, reluctant to leave. “Thanks again for everything.”
Vann stopped beside the Humvee, holding her door open, his dark eyes searing in the gathering twilight. “Hey, if you don’t need to get back to your hotel right away, there’s something I’d like to show you.”
6
Vann pulled over onto the side of the highway across from the compound, still not quite believing he was doing this. Impetuous decisions weren’t like him. He was always the calm, cool, collected one among the guys. The one they all turned to in a crisis. Yet, here he was, about to lead Mercy Conde, a woman he had no business getting involved with, down to his favorite place on the compound.
He got out and jogged around to her side of the vehicle. Unlike back at the restaurant, this time she let him help her out. Vann took Mercy’s hand, enjoying the contact of her skin on his more than he cared to admit. “Watch your step.”
Slowly, they climbed down a set of wooden steps to the beach below. Before them, the ocean roared and behind them stretched the sheer cliffs so common on this part of the California coast. Stars twinkled above and the soothing breeze eased the stress that had been building within him for weeks.
“This way.” He led her toward a small cove in the rocks. Brothers In Arms uses the space for their water rescue training courses and in their Land Navigation class. In fact, Mercy would return here in a few days with the other students in her Civilian Defensive Tactic Training class, but tonight it was just the two of them.
They walked inside the cove and he lit one of the torches along the wall, lending a warm glow to the space. Flat stone, hewn by centuries of ocean waves made up the floor and the walls and the scent of salt and sand filled the air. Against one wall were stacks of supplies and Vann grabbed a blanket and spread it out on the floor. “Have a seat.”
“This is spectacular,” Mercy said, k
icking her shoes off before doing as he asked. “Your company owns this?”
“Yep. We got lucky with the forty acres we bought,” he said, taking a seat beside her and unlacing his boots to pull them off. “Got the land the compound is on, this cove, plus access to some flatlands as well that we can use for desert scenarios.”
“Awesome.” She leaned a bit closer to him to peer out the arched opening before them. “I can definitely see how you could get attached to the nature around here.”
“Good. That’s why I brought you here.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You said you liked nature, so I thought I’d show you my favorite meditation spot. I could teach you some of my techniques, if you’re interested. Things you can use to summon your inner energy and power during times of stress. Hopefully, they might increase your confidence.”
“Oh, right.” Her crestfallen expression sucker punched him right in the feels. “Sure.”
Vann frowned. Had she expected more from him? He went back over their conversation at the diner. He’d not meant to lead her on in any way, to make her think he might be trying to get in her pants instead of her head. Sudden images of him stripping her bare and taking her hard, fast and hot right there on the rocks bombarded his brain and he straightened. Where the hell had that come from? Getting involved sexually with Mercy wasn’t on his ever-growing list of things he needed to do, and yet….
The breeze ruffled her soft-looking auburn curls, carrying with it the scent of Mercy’s perfume—orange blossom and spice and a hint of clean female. His body tightened despite his denials. Fuck. Now was not the time for him to get distracted, not with law enforcement still breathing down their necks about the safety of the compound, not with them finally convincing the world that the recent rash of SEAL deaths weren’t suicides but were in fact murders. Certainly not with the fact that said murderer was still on the loose out there somewhere and evidence that whoever had sabotaged the Diesel Dome and injured Mark was still creeping around the compound. Just that morning, Vann had found suspicious footprints and tire tracks near the border of the compound again. Third time this week too.