Shattered

by Olga Bicos

She stood and slipped her hand into his, a change in tactics. “Your father needs you just as much. If you want pathetic, take a look at him.”

  “But then, Gil didn’t try to put me in jail.”

  “He thought you would run away. It would have made everything so much worse. You were young and reckless and he wanted to help. With the proper advice, you would have made it through the crisis. You know how you were back then. How could you not expect your father to think you would run away?”

  “Quite honestly, it wasn’t Dad I was counting on.”

  “I listened to Samuel, my husband,” she said, defending herself. He wouldn’t know about the calls she’d made on his behalf. And what had she done really but swept the trash under the carpet, leaving the stench in the air?

  “I made a mistake,” she said, trying to appease. “There. I said it. Please. Stop punishing me—”

  “Don’t. Just, don’t.”

  She caught his longing glance for the exit. She tried to preempt him. “You’re right. I’ll tell Daniel to get rid of her.” Was that feverish voice really hers? “He can find someone else to finish the renovation.”

  And why not? Holly Fairfield had been an unpleasant surprise, to say the least. All along, she’d thought she could control Daniel. But now this?

  “Of course, she’s upset you. How could she not? I should never have agreed to it. But you know Daniel. His hopes and his dreams.”

  “And long may they reign,” he said, still looking at the door.

  Vanessa squeezed his hand, anchoring him. “I’ve lost the gallery. I’ve lost your father. I may soon lose Cutty House if Daniel isn’t up to the task. Don’t let me lose you, as well. I couldn’t bear it.”

  But the moment of high drama was over as easily as it began, at least for Ryan.

  “You haven’t lost me, Mother. You know where to find me,” he said gently. “But I just can’t be a part of this. Maybe I never could. Maybe it should have been Daniel all along.”

  She was shaking her head, genuine tears coming to her eyes. She wanted to tell him, I have missed you so. But he wouldn’t know how to react to her show of emotion. She’d never been that sort of mother. Why make him bear the weight of it now?

  She stepped back, transforming into the matriarch, a woman more familiar to them both. “Please tell Gil he’s wasting his time sending his silly invitations to his parties.” She raised her chin, anger so much easier an emotion. “He stole what is mine—he made you choose. I won’t be going anywhere near his vineyard.”

  Ryan gave a tired sigh. “It wasn’t Gil who sent the invitations. I’ll call you next week,” he said, leaning down to give her a peck on the cheek, finally getting the job done and heading for the door.

  Leaving her once again alone.

  8

  Emma kept her father alive in her kitchen. With every recipe, she could conjure bittersweet memories of her childhood. She still remembered making her first dish on the cast-iron range original to the kitchen at Cutty House. She’d been so small, she’d had to climb on a stool to see inside the pot where her father cooked red beans and rice. From her father, Emma learned to cook with color and shapes.

  Humming softly, she lay the shrimp atop boats made from corn husk shells dusted with cayenne powder. Alongside, she placed a dollop of the golden maza for tamale dulce. When he wasn’t cooking or falling-down drunk, Carlos Wright liked to play his guitar, making music an integral part of her memories. She could hear that music now inside her head as she dribbled the brilliant red roasted pepper sauce over the shrimp grilled and basted with mojo. She studied her creation. Not bad.

  But not what Daniel would want in his kitchen.

  “Think squab consomme and seared swordfish in quivering gelée,” she told herself.

  She glanced at the clock over the stove. Daniel would be home any minute. He’d expect a report.

  Under Daniel’s instructions, she’d spent the afternoon dragging Holly through spas and boutiques for her makeover. She’d felt like a dirtbag the whole time, knowing that what she was doing was twisted, Daniel at his scheming best. But it was what he wanted, to transform Holly for tonight’s party.

  Even worse, Emma found she’d enjoyed herself trying on the clothes, laughing along with Holly. More than once, she’d had to remind herself that Holly was the enemy.

  At least Holly’s brother wouldn’t make the party tonight. She’d made sure to ask, too scared not to. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d made a big mistake by going back to the bar the other night.

  She heard the front door open and glanced down at the food with a sigh. She’d have to hurry and get ready; she didn’t want to make Daniel late.

  She listened to Daniel bouncing around the apartment as she wrapped the shrimp dish in wax paper and boxed it for later. They’d been off lately. More and more, she’d been spending time at her place alone, Beth, her roommate, having taken off for a much-needed vacation.

  She wished she could do that sometimes, just run away.

  Her relationship with Daniel had always had its ups and downs. You couldn’t be with a guy like him and not expect the occasional disappointment. She’d even left him a couple of times, wondering if their love was cursed and could never be the fairy tale they pretended.

  But Daniel always managed to find her, convincing her to believe just one more time. She’d tried to explain it to Holly earlier, why she stayed.

  “Daniel’s not so bad. He’s worked at Cutty House all his life, you know…while they shipped Ryan off to all those fancy schools. Ryan never wanted anything to do with the restaurant business. He was way above all that. But every summer, there was Daniel, working his tail off, while Ryan sailed off into the sunset, Mr. Rich and Spoiled, getting his wanderlust fix. Kinda hard to watch, you know? How unfair it was.”

  And it had been unfair. Sure, the business belonged to Ryan’s father. Daniel’s mom had stuck her foot in it, getting pregnant when she was really young. She was supposed to get married, but it didn’t go so well for her. When it all fell apart, Daniel had come to live with Samuel and Vanessa.

  Years later, Daniel’s mom had gotten her act together, going off to have a real family. She’d left Daniel here, at Cutty House, like some afterthought. Samuel’s hired help.

  Despite the long odds, Daniel had pushed himself, going to school, paying for everything. He’d even gotten some sort of degree in finance, though not a fancy one like Ryan at Stanford. That’s why he was taking over now, because he’d proven himself to Vanessa.

  The story always had the desired effect. Emma could see Holly’s expression change to one of sympathy as she told it.

  “That’s why he likes to give people a second chance,” she’d told Holly, sealing it, because she knew Holly’s company had gone belly-up. Emma even believed what she’d said. Most times, anyway.

  “How did it go today?”

  She turned toward the door and found Daniel positively glowing as he stepped into the kitchen. She smiled to herself. No kiss. No “Hey, how are you?” Just Daniel and his agenda.

  Maybe that’s why everything was going wrong between them. She and Daniel didn’t see this Holly thing the same way. She knew it was wrong, while Daniel just kept on, full speed ahead. Lately, she’d even had the rogue thought of taking off again. Just leave him.

  But having chosen this path, she was stuck. Even if she had made her choice on a dark and scary night when she was all of fourteen, she would still have to pay. She couldn’t just run from her past.

  She put the shrimp away in the refrigerator and turned around, giving Daniel what he wanted, a big thumbs-up. But it worried her. Tonight, when Holly walked through the door—who would Daniel see?

  “Operation Beautiful Swan, complete,” she said.

  He snatched her up and kissed her, too keyed up to even notice when she didn’t kiss him back.

  But after a minute, he cupped her face in his hands. “What’s up? You’re not still worried about me and Holly?”
>
  “It’s not just that—”

  “Come on, baby. I love you. Remember?”

  At times like this, she could almost convince herself. This one moment, he was all hers. Her hero again. Protector and guide, just like before. And it didn’t matter that their love was based on some horrible lie. That was then, this is now.

  “You worry too much,” he told her, smiling. “Tonight will be a piece of cake. You’ll see, Ems. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  The problem was, she couldn’t quite convince herself. More and more, her faith just fizzled out. Like now. You worry too much. As if it was all so easy, trying to destroy people’s lives. A piece of cake…

  Easy for him to say.

  Holly stared into the mirror. She had no idea how long she’d been standing there, looking at herself, mystified by what a little makeup and new clothes could accomplish. Reflected back at her in the mirror was another woman altogether.

  The stylist at the salon had cut her hair into one of those messy bobs, an updated Audrey Hepburn look with bangs. The cut made her eyes look bigger, turning her into even more the ingenue.

  And the clothes…She’d picked them out with Emma as advisor. The outfit was exquisite and simple, like nothing she’d ever worn. Flowing black trousers, a white halter top with a ruffle that came up to frame her face and a plunging neckline that made her plenty nervous. The salesgirl had explained how Holly could use double-sided tape to keep things from crossing over into an NC-17 rating.

  “Yikes,” she said to the lady in the mirror.

  After Holly had left Daniel at the café, her ego checked at the door, Emma had shown up at Holly’s office—surprise!—declaring herself the Fairy Godmother to those persecuted by Daniel, the Wicked Warlock of the East.

  “Enjoy every minute of it, dahling,” Emma drawled during their impromptu facials at this outrageous spa they’d found. “It’s all on Daniel’s expense account.”

  Emma explained that Daniel felt bad. He’d been too hard on Holly, dissing all her hard work. She shouldn’t give up. How many times had he trashed a prized recipe before Emma figured out the rules? It’s Dan’s way or the highway.

  And the party tonight? He wasn’t so much demanding that Holly show up as needing her there. And boy, would he make it up to her. She might even have fun, Emma told her with a wry smile. The trip to the spa and stylist, and the shopping spree—that was only the warm-up act.

  By the time Emma was through, they’d done the whole Pretty Woman thing, complete with a wardrobe that left Holly breathless by the cost and daring of their choices. At first, she’d vowed to pay back every cent, keeping a strict tally of each expense. But some time after she bought the Manolo Blahnik shoes on Emma’s insistence— “Daniel will love these!”—she thought maybe Daniel deserved a couple of hits to his credit card.

  They ended up laughing over a cup of coffee at the snotty expression Emma had gotten from one boutique owner. With her torn jeans and pierced lip, Emma wasn’t the kind of client they were used to fawning over.

  “It’s seductive, isn’t it?”

  Holly turned around. She’d been so caught up in the fantasy in the mirror that she hadn’t heard Harris, who was standing in the hall just outside her bedroom door.

  “The outfit?” she asked. She’d been afraid it was too much.

  “All the goodies, Holly. The clothes, the job.” He gestured at the posh surroundings. “This apartment.”

  She could see that her brother was warming up. She braced herself, turning away from the mirror, trying not to look guilty as charged.

  “I’ve been there, sis,” he told her from the doorway. “Finally, getting the goodies. Where we came from, all this would be too much to pass up. But I wonder, what’s the price? In my experience, there’s always a price.”

  “I’m trying to do a job here, Harris.”

  “Right.” He gave the outfit another look, his silence saying it all. Like it would ever be part of her job to dress like this.

  He looked so disappointed, it actually hurt.

  “You’re not normally the one to take the easy way. But kiddo, did you ever grab for this one with both hands.”

  “Easy?” She thought about her meeting with Daniel today, how he’d shot down every idea. “Let me bring you in on a little secret, Harris. I am terrified here. I’m supposed to renovate what amounts to a historical treasure and I’m working for a crazy man. Daniel has no idea what he wants, but it certainly isn’t anything I’m coming up with. I don’t sleep so well these days, if you haven’t noticed.”

  “Which is exactly my point. You’re working for a crazy man. You said it, not me. So why keep at it? Why not just say we made a mistake and get on home?”

  “Because we didn’t make a mistake! I didn’t make a mistake. Is it really so hard for you?” she asked, confronting him with the truth. “That for once, I’m the one bailing us out?”

  “I don’t need bailing out.” He shook his head. “No way. Don’t do this for me.”

  “All right. Agreed. God forbid that you should let me help you. Harris, all those years…it was always you. I mean, how old were you when Mom walked out? Seven, maybe? And Dad working two jobs, until he realized you were so damn good at taking care of me that even he bailed.”

  “I did what I had to do. You don’t have to be here, Hol, looking like that. You don’t have to do any of this.”

  “Well, maybe I do,” she told him, raising her voice to match his. “Did you ever think that maybe I need this?” She was breathing fast. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d argued with Harris. Over Drew, probably, when Harris had tried to convince her not to marry the jerk.

  “For once, Harris, please…let me be the knight in shining armor.”

  He got this fierce look, no longer the sweetheart of a brother she knew him to be. His dark eyes never failed to intimidate when he stared at someone like that.

  “So you’ve dug in your heels, have you? All right.” He nodded, stepping back from the door. “We’ll do it your way. But not alone. Just give me a sec.”

  She ran out into the hall, shouting, “Who said you were invited?”

  “Just try and stop me.” He slammed into his room, taking his bad temper out on the door.

  She smiled, not necessarily averse to Harris tagging along. But she yelled, “Just don’t cause any trouble.”

  For good measure.

  9

  Harris had seen a couple of wild places in his life, but this joint might crack his top-ten list.

  Buried in the heart of SoMa, the Samba, Samba! club had its own little Carnival going. Conga lines snaked past the dance floor and half-dressed models wearing feathered headdresses and G-strings to make Vegas blush pranced up and down a catwalk to chest-thumping techno music. A full bar awaited at each end of the warehouse-cum-dance club. At each bar, a video of the models strutting their stuff appeared on giant screens on opposing walls, so you didn’t have to crane your neck to get a look-see.

  The crowd, too, was a kick in the pants. Vamping lollipop women wearing not much of anything hung on the arms of Dow Jones suits. A bare-assed boy was being led around by a dog collar, while another man wore only tinfoil, complete with antennae. And a drag queen dressed to look like a wedding cake, with an enormous wig topping the layers, caught Harris staring and said with a wink, “The higher the hair, the closer to God!”

  The place was hopping all right. Still, he didn’t have any trouble finding her.

  The way Harris saw things, it was long past time to get off his keester. Sure, Holly wanted to play the knight in shining armor, and any other time he’d be happy to give her a big brother thumbs-up. But Harris knew too well about that kind of motivation, knew how a person might look the other way, thanking their lucky stars for supposed good fortune, forgetting that the goodies always came with a price tag attached.

  His sister’s fairy tale had a big bad wolf by the name of Daniel East tacked on. The way Danny was throwing money a
round, he was either an idiot or he was doing something illegal. Harris figured it was the latter.

  But the story wasn’t coming from the man himself. Nah, old Daniel wasn’t giving any hints. Which meant Harris had to pick on someone else.

  “Emma,” he whispered, coming up behind her.

  She had on this white strappy dress cut real low in the back so that you knew she wasn’t wearing a damn thing underneath. The pearly silk looked like it was hanging on for dear life. Really, it surprised him that the dress didn’t just fall right off when she turned around to see him.

  Her eyes got all wide. In this light, they looked an even deeper green. “Your sister told me you weren’t coming.” An accusation.

  Harris smiled. No need to read between the lines.

  “And here I thought you’d be happy to see me.” He knew she was scared. That’s the kind of thing he could get from people—the easy emotions like fear and hate.

  “Holly told me you were working tonight,” she said, losing the edge to her voice, a little more in control.

  He took a drink of his beer. “What? And miss this?”

  He gestured to where Daniel escorted his sister past the gauntlet of the city’s rich and mighty. Danny was on a high, introducing Holly to those willing to plunk down money for tonight’s charity du jour.

  He turned back to Emma. She’d pulled her hair into a tight knot at the base of her elegant neck and wore a tiny diamond stud where she’d pierced her lip, like a beauty mark meant to attract attention to a damn fine feature. The dress, too, was pretty distracting. For an instant, he wondered which lucky guy she’d dressed for. For a second, he wished it was him.

  “Nice dress” was all he could muster, like a kid on a first date.

  “Are you going to stand there and stare at my tits all night?”

  She’d said it to be shocking, and it worked. He raised his eyes to her face.

  “Well, don’t I feel like an idiot.” But he couldn’t wipe the grin off his face.

  “I’ve got to go.”

  She made to step around him, but he stopped her. He’d meant to come on easy, make like the good guy. Trust me, babe. Tell me all your secrets. Now he’d blown it. He was usually better at this sort of thing.