“Am I that old and stodgy and stuck in my ways?” Nikolai asked.
“Not as much as I thought,” Tatiana said. “I told Kennedy it would take over a year for you to accept him, but apparently the whole pirate thing put us on the accelerated plan.”
Nikolai looked at Kennedy with new respect. “You were willing to endure that for a year?”
“I’m in it for the long haul, sir. Besides, you weren’t all that bad.”
“Kiss-ass.” Nikolai thumped Kennedy on the back, perhaps a little harder than necessary.
“Okay, I give up,” Will said. “What’s the big announcement tonight? If it’s not about any of you getting married, and I know I’m not getting married, and Dad’s not announcing he’s going to kill himself, then I’m stumped. What is it?”
“I did ask you all out here to tell you my news in private. And I shall open my soul to you all . . . ” He looked from face to face, all flushed with curiosity. “Tonight.”
“Dad,” Will scolded.
“You’re a tease!” Tatiana laughed.
“I’m enjoying your anticipation far too much to let it go now,” Nikolai said. “You’ll find out at the party tonight along with everyone else.”
“But you swear you’re not getting married,” Tatiana said, with her hands on her hips and a stern look on her face, just like when she was six years old scolding her “classroom” of dolls.
Nikolai raised his eyebrows and shrugged.
One Hundred Twenty-Five
Sausalito
Reid sat up, still half in a dream. He looked around trying to remember where he was. Was he in the Mountain? Tinker’s house? The Tank? Brandt’s room. The present came rushing back, and he wished it hadn’t. Mia. The horrible truth. His shame and humiliation.
He didn’t want to be in the present. He closed his eyes to go back to his dream, but then he remembered: he was going home. There were feelings of guilt and shame there, too, but also a sense of rightness and purpose.
The door opened, and Brandt entered. “Hey, you’re awake.”
The curtains were drawn but Reid could tell it was light out. “What time is it?”
“Afternoon.”
Reid groaned. “I’ve got to check on my patient, and then I still have to pack.” His stomach knotted at the thought of going to his room, but he needed his med kit.
“I already got your things from your room.” Brandt indicated a pack by the door. “And I gathered up most of the other stuff we’ll need—bedrolls, food, matches. Will gave me apples and apple seeds. They’ll come in handy for trading, and for you to take home if we don’t find Justine’s people. All we need now is to find you a knife and gun.”
“I have a knife. I don’t want a gun.” He opened the pack and pulled out his med kit.
“Trust me, you need a handgun,” Brandt said.
“Trust me, I don’t.”
Brandt stared at him, and Reid stared back. He wasn’t backing down.
Finally Brandt shook his head. “All right. Up to you.”
“What I do need is a place to sleep tonight.”
“I already talked to Marseille. She said you can have a room here with the girl of your choice.”
“What?”
“It might help.”
“What are you talking about?”
Brandt’s brow furrowed. “Marseille’s place, it’s like the Grand.”
“And the women are . . . like Mia?”
Brandt nodded.
“What the hell?” Reid stormed to the window and wheeled around. “What is wrong with the world? How did sex suddenly become a job?”
“Whoa,” Brandt said. “That’s been around forever. The oldest profession.”
“Not where I come from. I never even heard of such a thing. I only found out about Mia this morning. Now it turns out it’s everywhere. Is Marseille?”
“Marseille? Yeah, sure. She runs the place.”
Reid opened the curtains and leaned against the windowsill, trying to make sense of something that made no sense at all.
“Sorry, man,” Brandt said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Reid’s cheeks burned. “I feel like an idiot.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. You didn’t know.”
“What I don’t understand is why a woman would choose that as a job.”
“Not everyone chooses,” Brandt said. “Here they have other options, but most women at the Grand didn’t have the choice. Justine didn’t.”
“Justine?” Reid turned. “I had no idea.”
“It’s the way things are in Lost Angeles,” Brandt said. “But not where Justine came from. It was hell for her.”
“Was Mia forced too?” Reid thought it wouldn’t be as bad if she didn’t have the choice, but felt horrible for wishing that.
Brandt shook his head. “Mia chose.”
“Of course she did.” Reid turned back to the window. He wasn’t surprised. Yet he was the slightest bit disappointed, and he didn’t understand why he still cared at all.
“Look, forget I said anything,” Brandt said. “Sleep in my room tonight. We’ll leave first thing in the morning and put all this behind us.”
❦❦❦
Seeing his patients was a respite for Reid. He knew what to do, what to think. Plus today he had the added benefit of company—Josh had asked to tag along, and the boy was a nice distraction.
The visit didn’t take long. The new mom was healthy, and the baby was nursing well. The midwife arrived shortly after Reid, so he briefed her then headed back to town with Josh.
The kid never stopped asking questions, but Reid didn’t mind. It kept his thoughts from venturing where he’d rather not go.
“Do you like being a medic?” Josh asked.
“I can’t imagine not being one.”
“Did you get to choose it or did other people choose for you?”
“I chose it, when I was about your age.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about what I’m going to choose.” Josh’s brows were drawn in concentration, his tone serious.
“There’s no rush.”
“I know. I’m collecting options. Mom says anything you choose is okay, but if you don’t have any options, it’s not really a choice.”
The observation was insightful. “Your mom sounds like a smart woman.” So why did she choose sex as her job?
“Yeah, mom’s pretty smart. Uncle Niko too, and Tatiana. My grandma is really smart. I don’t know how smart Uncle Simon and Will are, but I’m trying to learn from everybody, even if they’re not that smart, because I want to know all the options.”
“That makes you pretty smart.”
“Why did you choose being a medic? Because, from what I saw back there with the baby, it’s pretty gross.”
Reid laughed. “Uh oh, what did you see?” He’d made sure Josh wasn’t in the room when he’d examined the mother.
“The shriveled-up black thing sticking out of the baby’s tummy—what the hell was that?”
Reid tried not to smile. “The umbilical cord. Is your mom okay with you swearing?”
“Nah, it’s a guy thing. Me and my uncles do it when there’s no girls around. You won’t tell my mom, will you?”
“Nope. It’s between us guys.”
“Fresh.” Josh grinned.
They entered the lobby adjacent to Marseille’s pub.
“I’m heading to the kitchen,” Josh said. “Want to come?”
“Thanks, but I’ll go up to Brandt’s room.” He’d rather not chance running into Marseille.
“If you come with me, I bet Cook will give us a treat. Maybe even chocolate if you tell her I helped you. Please?”
“Okay, you talked me into it.” There was no need to disappoint Josh. Marseille probably wouldn’t be in the kitchen anyway.
“Hello, you two,” Marseille said as they entered the kitchen.
“Uh oh, Mom’s here,” Josh said behind a cupped hand. “That means no chocolate.�
��
“How is the new mother?” Marseille asked.
“Doing great. The baby, too,” Reid said, hoping he didn’t look as awkward as he felt. “Josh helped.”
“What did you think?” Marseille asked Josh.
“Disgusting.”
“Tactful as ever.” Marseille ruffled his hair. “At least thank Reid for taking you.”
“Thank you, Reid,” Josh said. “I think you’re one of the smart ones, but I don’t like your option. Too much disgusting baby poop and black cord things.”
“Josh,” Marseille admonished, unable to keep the grin from her lips. “Cook’s out back shucking clams for tonight. Why don’t you see if you can help?”
“Mom! You know I don’t like her option.”
“But you like her chocolate, and she’s got some in her apron.”
Josh ran out the door without a backward glance.
“I hope you’re not sorry you agreed to take him,” Marseille said.
“Not at all. Although if I’d known he was checking out my ‘option,’ I might have done something more interesting than changing a newborn’s diaper.”
“I think it was the perfect introduction. Much better than if he’d seen you deliver our little Miracle.” Marseille smiled, and it transformed her. She was pretty to begin with, but her smile made her extraordinary. “If it weren’t for you, Miracle might not be with us. Have you considered settling down here? We could use a man with your talents.”
“I appreciate that, but I’ve decided to leave with Brandt.” Reid shifted, uncomfortable with Marseille now that he knew what she did for a living.
“That’s too bad. I’m sure Josh is disappointed.”
“He doesn’t know yet. I should find him and tell him myself.”
“He’ll be at the party tonight. You can tell him then.”
“I won’t be there.”
“No? Nikolai’s making some big announcement, so Cook’s preparing a feast. The instruments will be out. Tomorrow’s a day off from the orchards, so the party could go all night.”
“We’re leaving early tomorrow.” Reid had no interest in hearing Nikolai’s announcement. It probably had to do with Mia.
“If you change your mind, come find me. I’d like a dance to remember you by.”
Reid looked into her eyes, trying to understand how she could have sex with men she didn’t love, perhaps men she didn’t even know. It was too foreign, too incomprehensible.
Marseille took his hand. “I’m sorry for what you’ve been through, Reid. You’re a good man, and I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
“Thank you.” He squeezed her hand, then let it go and headed out of the kitchen.
“You’ve made a difference here,” she called. “Whatever life brings, that cannot be undone. If you are ever in need of a safe harbor, you will always be welcome.”
He continued to Brandt’s room, feeling the warmth of Marseille’s words, feeling valued and appreciated, but at the same time wondering if manipulating his feelings was part of her job.
One Hundred Twenty-Six
Lost Angeles
While Justine napped, Pascal oversaw preparations for their journey. Minou assured him she could ride a bike as well as any of the Travelers, and the men were outfitted and standing by. Nathans fetched spray paint from Supply, too intimidated to ask what it was for. Gomez took care of the food, gear, and weapons, and Advani guarded Justine’s room while packing medical supplies. Everything would be ready for a morning departure.
Pascal went home and put some clothing and toiletries into a duffle, then stopped by his private suite in the Grand to retrieve his mother’s Ruger. He declined to spend any time there despite a nice offer from Ellianna’s replacement. Instead, he returned to his room at the hospital.
He considered visiting Linus, but decided against it. He had nothing to offer him. Not yet. The thought of finding Brandt and Reid had his blood pumping. He’d take great pleasure in giving Linus the closure he deserved.
Maybe after that he’d be inclined to start over. With the car and seeds, there would be no limit to what he could accomplish. It wasn’t too late to raise another son, and this time he’d be more careful whom he chose to bear his child.
“Sir?”
“Come in, Gomez.”
“Everything is ready.”
“Thank you. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“I appreciate you saying so, sir.”
“I don’t know how long I’ll be away, but I trust you’ll manage my affairs well in my absence. Continue as you have been. I know you’ll do what’s best.”
“Yes sir.”
“One thing . . . I’d like to see Linus when I return. Can you do whatever is necessary?”
Gomez looked at him wide-eyed, and the requisite “yes sir” did not roll from his tongue.
“Don’t worry, Gomez. I know he’s dead,” Pascal said, noting the relief evident on Gomez’s face. “I meant I want you to delay the decaying process. Have him embalmed or something. Jenna, too, so Linus won’t be alone.”
“Of course, sir. Anything else?”
“Dinner. I seem to be getting my appetite back, and who knows when I’ll have another decent meal. Too bad I can’t take Chef with me.”
One Hundred Twenty-Seven
Hotel Sausalito
Reid sat at the window watching the sky rush through every trick it knew—from blue to pink, orange to red, purple to cobalt, and finally to black. The whole world changed in the space of a few heartbeats, and you couldn’t go back.
Yesterday he and Mia had made love and planned for a future together. Then, in the time it took for the sun to set, his world had gone from bright to black.
How had he not seen Mia for who she was? Was he really so gullible, so naïve? Or had he not seen the truth because he hadn’t wanted to? Had he been complicit in her charade?
The room pushed in on him. He couldn’t breathe. He threw open the door and half-ran down the stairs, breaking into a sprint as soon as he reached the night air.
The orange glow of the bonfire lit the party down by the water. He turned in the opposite direction and ran until his chest heaved and the only light was from stars peeking through a gap in the clouds. He slowed to a walk, pressing a fist to the stitch in his side. As the pain dissipated, his head cleared.
He’d be glad to leave all this behind him. He’d forget about Mia and focus his energy where it should be. Cumorah’s people—Justine’s people—were out there somewhere. He hadn’t imagined the grown food. Seeds did exist, and he was going to find them and bring them back to Colorado, no matter what it took.
The clouds were low and moving fast, and thunder grumbled as Reid tried to make his way back to Marseille’s building. He wasn’t sure exactly where it was, but he could tell he was going in the right direction because of the occasional snippet of music drifting on the air.
Down a cross street, he saw an orange glow indicating he was nearing the bonfire. He turned and headed toward it, hearing the music faintly but steadily now.
The road dead-ended at a clearing where he could see a gazebo outlined by the bonfire. The sky grumbled again and let go of a sprinkle of rain. As Reid jogged toward the gazebo for cover, the moon broke free of the clouds, illuminating two figures already inside the structure. Then the sky went dark again and started to pour.
Mia? Reid stopped. He’d only caught a brief glimpse, so he wasn’t sure. Then he heard laughter and knew it was her. She was laughing. Like nothing had happened.
Who was she with? It had to be Nikolai. Mia had probably been seeing him all along.
Reid told himself to walk away, but he kept watching.
The two in the gazebo continued murmuring, laughing. Their silhouettes became one. They were kissing. Bile rose in Reid’s throat. Why was he doing this to himself?
The two pulled apart.
“You’re sure?” the man asked. It was Will.
“It’s definitely
over,” Mia said. “It was never serious.”
“I don’t think Reid saw it that way,” Will said.
“Don’t feel too bad for him,” Mia said. “I may have been using him, but he was using me too.”
Reid’s protest caught in his throat. Mia was right. He had been using her. To avoid facing the truth. To avoid admitting his failure. He’d never loved her. She’d been his anesthetic to help him forget. Did the Mia he’d been obsessed with even exist? Or had he projected onto her exactly what he’d wanted to see, what he’d needed to see to make sure he could see nothing else?
Yes, he’d been as guilty of using her as she was of using him. But not any longer. It was time to stop hiding from the truth.
Reid gave the gazebo a wide berth, and made it to the far side of The Landing without being seen. The rain had stopped and the party was in full swing, with people dancing and singing and drinking, but he wasn’t in the mood. He wanted to sleep so tomorrow would come sooner.
He skirted the edge of the dance floor, heading for the stairs that led up to the hotel and Marseille’s place.
The music stopped and the dancers applauded. “Encore!” someone shouted.
Reid kept walking, but stopped abruptly when he saw who was sitting behind the piano. Nikolai smiled and waved to the crowd, then began to play again. The song was upbeat and joyous, and totally captivating. Reid sank onto an empty bench at a table with a view of the piano.
The dancing resumed in earnest, and Reid felt part of it as the vibrations from instruments and stomping feet reverberated through him. He was mesmerized as the dancers spun across the floor. The swirling colors of skirts, the swish and swoosh of long hair, flashes of smiles and bare skin. He decided dancing made every woman beautiful.
He thought he might like to try it, but the idea of going on the dance floor alone was terrifying. He’d just about decided it was time to leave the party when his gaze landed on Marseille dancing in the center of the crowd. Her red hair tumbled down her back, the light from the fire turning it the color of glowing embers. She wore a tank top and a flowing skirt in shades of amber that caressed her hips as she moved. She wasn’t doing flashy steps or twirls like the couples, but Reid was mesmerized by the sensuality of her movements. Her eyes were closed, her face upturned and serene. She had no partner except for the music—it seemed to be all she needed. He still wasn’t comfortable with what she did for her job, but he couldn’t stop watching her dance.
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