The Successor (The Holbrook Cousins Saga Book 1)

by Alina Jacobs

  Stefan had packed black slacks and a white shirt for Grant and a pair of leather shoes. When Grant was dressed, he looked like someone’s security detail. Kate tried to fluff out his short-cropped hair but eventually gave up. The captain came out of the cockpit and watched as Kate and Wendy tried to stuff Grant’s massive arms in one of the jackets Stefan had sent.

  “Nothing you’re going to be able to do about him,” the captain said with a smirk. “That man looks like an American.”

  “And a damn fine specimen at that!” Kate said, giving Grant’s firm backside a playful slap. He jumped, and she laughed. “Let’s go give them something to gossip about.” She gathered their things and made sure she had all the customs forms in order.

  Grant was twisting his body, trying to loosen up after the flight, when Kate heard a loud rip. The captain guffawed.

  “Leave that jacket here, son,” he said. “Try not to break anything in that watch shop.” He waved, still chuckling as they exited the plane.

  The customs officer looked down his nose at them but stamped their passports and waved them on. Kate and Grant got into the waiting car and sped off into the city toward the Patek Philippe headquarters.

  The city was beautiful. Kate was impressed every time she came to Geneva. She pointed out various landmark buildings on the way to Grant. She also looked enviously at the well-dressed people strolling on the sidewalk on their way to work. After a trip without too much traffic, they arrived in front of the headquarters building.

  “We’ll wait here for a bit until they open,” Kate said. Grant yawned.

  “Is this your first time to Europe?” she asked him. “Other than the stops at the US bases?”

  “First time for nonmilitary-related travel,” he confirmed.

  “Depending on how long this takes, we’ll stop for a nice lunch,” she told him.

  “Do they give you a lot of food here?” he asked.

  “Um, no, I guess not. They cater to people on the smaller side, I suppose.”

  “In Germany, outside the base, there was this Afghan refugee and his family. They had a food truck, and they would sell döner kebab. You could buy two huge sandwiches for four dollars. They had a discount for people who had recently returned from a deployment. It was probably one of the best things I’ve ever eaten. Do they have that here?”

  Kate laughed. “Not in Geneva. We can fly to Germany after and purchase one if you’d like.”

  “What? Just fly to Germany to buy a specific food Item?”

  “Of course,” Kate said. “Normally, people will fly to a particular city for only a night to eat at a Michelin-star restaurant, but for döner kebab… why not? Or I can send the pilot to go buy some and bring them back for you.”

  “That seems wasteful,” Grant told her.

  “Yes.” Kate thought about it. “That is a little wasteful. But what’s the harm every once in a while? Don’t make a habit out of it.” She could tell Grant was annoyed by that, so she tried to smooth things over. “We don’t have to; I was only making a suggestion. We’ll go to my favorite French restaurant down the road. It’s conveniently located in the lobby of our hotel. They’ve been awarded three Michelin stars. They have amazing food.”

  Grant looked skeptical. She tried to upsell it.

  “They have these exquisite platings. The food is so fresh—pure and perfect. They use very high-quality ingredients. It’s the place to be. I had to beg to secure a reservation for tonight.”

  “Do they have McDonalds?” Grant asked.

  “Are you serious? We aren’t going to McDonalds,” she told him. “I always go to this restaurant when I’m in Geneva. It’s my security blanket. I always feel like the big dumb American when I’m here. This restaurant is good, though. I really like the chef.”

  Grant looked out the window unhappily.

  “What are we waiting on?” he said, clearly annoyed.

  Kate didn’t understand why he wasn’t more enthusiastic. A black sedan pulled in a few spaces away from them.

  “That looks like your father and the insurance agent,” she remarked.

  “Insurance agent?”

  “Of course,” Kate said. “It’s a multimillion-dollar watch. Insurance has to be involved.”

  “This is really complicated,” Grant said and pushed the car door open.

  Chapter 18

  Grant

  Two well-dressed men in suits got out of a black sedan and came over to them as they got out of the car.

  “Good morning, Walter,” Kate greeted his father. “How was the flight?”

  “We just arrived,” he said. “There was rain over Heathrow but nothing too bad.” He held out a hand to Grant. “Let me see that watch.” He took Grant’s wrist and whistled. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice this. Where did you find it?” As Grant was about to open his mouth, a silver-haired man wearing a fine suit with a blue pocket square came out and greeted them.

  “Good morning. I am Monsieur Bernard, and I work here at Patek. We are honored to have you with us this morning to look at this historical piece.” They were ushered into the midrise building. The lobby had a distinctive European feel with small pinpricks of recessed lighting, lots of glass, and light-colored wood on the ceilings.

  “If you would follow me,” Monsieur Bernard said.

  He led them to a bright-white room with a large worktable. There were several other people around the table. Kate took a seat, and a secretary brought in coffee. Monsieur Bernard smiled appreciatively and took a sip from his steaming cup.

  Steepling his hands, he said, “Now that we are all here, Mr. Holbrook, you are one of our biggest fans and one of our most cherished customers. It seems fitting that your long-lost son should also find this watch that we thought was lost to the world.”

  Grant still wasn’t sure why his watch was so significant. It didn’t look all that fancy.

  “We would like to give some context to the watch, for the young Mr. Holbrook.”

  Grant didn’t even have the energy to correct him.

  “Madame Alice Moreau will walk you through a brief history.”

  “Yes, please explain how this watch disappeared. It looks like one of the aviator prototypes I lost at auction to that Saudi prince,” Walter said.

  Grant could detect a hint of annoyance in his father’s tone. He didn’t understand getting so worked up about a watch.

  “You see it all works out, though,” Monsieur Bernard said, smiling broadly.

  Walter turned to look softly at Grant, but Grant ignored him and looked intently at Alice and the large pictures in her hand.

  “Yes,” she said, “this is a Nazi, and he is wearing your watch. This man was a Thuringian prince. I don’t even want to say his name because the crimes he committed were too atrocious to do him that honor. He ran one of the smaller death camps in Poland, and he gave his son”—she pulled out another picture of a younger man with the same strong nose—“the watch before he went to fight on the Eastern Front. The son was an officer in the SS, and the father was very proud of him. The son was killed a few months before the war’s end, by British forces, it was presumed, as the Allies pressed farther into German territory.” She showed a picture that was a grainy blowup of the watch. “We checked with his children, and they didn’t receive it with the body. We therefore assumed it was lost, and we didn’t make a scene about it because Patek, for obvious reasons, does not want to be associated with the Nazi regime in any way.”

  “And now the watch is here,” Monsieur Bernard concluded. “May we see it?”

  Grant took off the watch. His father took the watch from him and studied it. Monsieur Bernard came over, carrying a porcelain tray with a microfiber cloth on it. Walter placed the watch on it reverently. He and the other Patek representatives crowded around the watch, studying it in the diffuse sunlight that came through the large glass windows.

  “This is marvelous workmanship,” his father said. “And in stainless steel. It is quite rare.”<
br />
  “It works great too,” Grant said. “Keeps time like a champ. It’s also bomb proof.”

  “Excuse me?” Monsieur Bernard looked as if he were in physical pain.

  “I wore it on my wrist during all my time in the Marines, including when I was deployed to Afghanistan and the Middle East. There was a rocket attack one time that was only a few yards away from me. I thought for sure it would have ruined the watch, but it just kept ticking. My first sergeant said it was a good-luck charm. It’s been through a lot.”

  “Perhaps,” Monsieur Bernard said, visibly trying to calm himself, “you could tell me how you acquired this watch?”

  “I bought it at a garage sale for two hundred dollars. I had received my enlistment bonus, and I wanted to buy something decent that wasn’t a car. I saw this watch. The lady wanted like five hundred, but I talked her down. It was a lot to spend on a watch, I thought, but she said her husband had died, and she needed the money, it looked like, so I bought it.”

  “Where did her husband find it?” Monsieur Bernard asked.

  “He cut it off of a Nazi,” Grant said. The people in the room seemed taken aback. Grant ignored them. “I have it here.” He pulled up a picture on his phone of the former watch owner posing in front of a dead Nazi that the woman who sold him the watch had given him. The young GI was holding up the watch and grinning like a fool at the camera. “He kept the watch as a souvenir,” Grant told them. “I have the receipt, too, if you want to see. I bought it fair and square. I saved it to declare on my taxes,” he said proudly. Kate and his father snickered. He felt stupid. Two hundred dollars was nothing to them. His father probably wrote off tens of millions of dollars every year.

  The Patek representatives looked at the pictures on Grant’s phone. The insurance agent glanced at it, too, as well as the receipt.

  “Thank you for bringing it to us,” Monsieur Bernard said finally.

  Grant reached for the watch.

  “Ah—”

  “What? It’s mine, isn’t it?” Grant said, eyes narrowing.

  “Yes,” said his father, “but it hasn’t been serviced since the early forties, and it’s probably gunked up with dirt, gunpowder, bits of dead Nazi, and whatever you picked up on your deployments.”

  “What am I supposed to wear as a watch?” Grant demanded. That was his lucky watch! He couldn’t give it up!

  “I’m having a special insurance policy taken out just on your watch,” his father said and looked pointedly at the insurance agent, who nodded.

  Grant looked around wildly. That was his lucky watch! It needed to stay with him.

  “Why did you think you were coming here?” Monsieur Bernard asked him kindly.

  “I just thought you wanted to see it.”

  “It needs to be cleaned,” Monsieur Bernard told him. “I assure you we will take excellent care of it.”

  “Ok… well…” Grant realized he sounded crazy, but they didn’t understand. He always wore that watch. That was his watch.

  “It should be back in your possession within eight months,” Monsieur Bernard continued.

  “Eight months?” Grant said too loudly. Alice flinched. Kate got up from her chair and went over to him.

  “Calm down,” she hissed. “You’re making a scene.”

  Grant glowered.

  “Sit,” she told him, pushing him into a chair.

  “What am I supposed to do without a watch?” Grant asked, trying to salvage some dignity.

  “We’ll find you a new one,” Walter said. “They have a showroom here. You can have any watch you want. Some of the grand complications are on back order, but they don’t make the best everyday watches, anyway. Maybe a Moonphase? Those are nice watches. Or a Nautilus if you want something more robust.”

  “It’s fine, Grant,” Kate interjected. “This is why you have more than one watch, so that you have something to wear while your other ones are being serviced.”

  One of the Patek representatives put some papers down for him to sign.

  “What’s this?”

  “It says that you are releasing the watch to us for service,” she said.

  “What if you break it?” he asked, not moving to sign the papers.

  “That’s what the insurance is for,” said the agent.

  “That’s also why it’s taking so long,” Walter told him. “It’s a unique watch, and it’s very old. They will be very careful.”

  “Rest assured,” Monsieur Bernard said to him with a small bow. “We have everything under control.”

  Grant sagged and acquiesced. Kate pushed the papers in front of him, and he signed. It felt as if he were losing a part of himself.

  Walter smiled, and the Patek representatives bid farewell.

  “Let’s find you a watch, Grant,” he said.

  “Right this way,” Monsieur Bernard said, gesturing them through the door. They went back down to the first floor. On the right was a large showroom.

  “You can have any watch you’d like,” Walter told him.

  “Can I have one with twenty-four hours like mine has?” Grant asked.

  Monsieur Bernard looked stricken. “We don’t have one exactly like that. We have an aviator watch that is inspired by yours, however.” He pulled out a watch from the case.

  “It doesn’t have twenty-four hours,” Grant said flatly.

  “Well then, try this one, the chronograph world time. It’s got twenty-four hours marked.”

  Grant looked it over. There were a score of city names written in tiny font on the face of the watch.

  “It’s too complicated. I just wanted a simple watch.”

  “This is a beautiful watch,” his father said. “See…” He pushed the buttons on the side of the watch. “You can easily set it to whatever time zone you’re in. It’s great for international travel.”

  “I’m not doing international travel,” Grant said mulishly.

  “Pick a watch,” Walter growled.

  “I don’t want any of these.”

  “These are some of the best watches in the world,” Monsieur Bernard said in disbelief. “Anyone would love to be in your position.”

  “What about this one?” his father asked.

  Grant didn’t even look at it. “I’ll buy something from Walmart.”

  “Walmart?” His father and Monsieur Bernard gasped.

  Kate hurried over. “Grant, you aren’t getting anything from Walmart.”

  A salesperson came over with two somewhat-simple watches.

  “These are nice,” Kate said.

  “I don’t want those.”

  “Pick a watch, now,” Kate told him, staring him down. Grant looked at his shoes after a moment.

  “I’ll take the world-time one, I guess.”

  “An excellent choice! I would recommend the one in white gold,” Monsieur Bernard said, beaming.

  “Sure, that’s fine. How much is it?” Grant fished in his pocket for his wallet.

  “Seventy-thousand francs.”

  Grant almost had a heart attack. “For a watch?”

  “It’s not that much,” Kate told him. “It’s like midrange for Patek.”

  “Do you like it?” his father asked him.

  “Not for that price!”

  “Buy it, Walter,” Kate said. “He can’t run around in a Walmart watch.”

  Grant looked on, dazed, as his father handed over his credit card.

  “You’re putting that on a credit card?”

  His father looked at him, bemused. “I want the points.”

  “Points.” Grant was still in shock as Monsieur Bernard handed him the bag with his boxed-up watch.

  “Thank you,” Grant said automatically.

  “Come back anytime,” Monsieur Bernard replied. “We will keep you updated as to the status of your watch. We hope that you will be as much of a patron of ours as your father is.”

  Grant followed Kate and his father out to the car.

  “Your first… well, second,
Patek,” his father said, giving him a one-armed hug, and left in his own car back to London, Grant supposed.

  “Yeah.” Seventy thousand francs. That was what? Seventy thousand dollars with the exchange rate being equal? Grant thought so. He reflected on when he was a kid, how poor his family had been. Seventy thousand dollars would have gone a long way in his household. Well, his adoptive father probably would have gambled it all away, so maybe it didn’t matter. Grant slumped in the car as he and Kate drove off to the hotel.

  Chapter 19

  Kate

  Kate looked at Grant with worry. He seemed upset in the watch showroom.

  She hadn’t looked that deep into his family background, only enough to find where he was so she could make contact with him. She could see how it was a lot of money to spend on a watch, but it was about as much as a nice car. He was adopted, after all, so his family must have been somewhat well off to adopt a child. She wondered maybe if it was his PTSD. He hadn’t gotten enough sleep on the flight, she decided.

  “We’ll check in, go for a walk, then rest before dinner,” she told him. “I have reservations at six. It’s a bit early, but with the flight, it will probably be best. It usually takes three hours to sit through the dinner.”

  “Three hours?” Grant said. He looked at her, wide-eyed. “Why is it three hours?”

  She laughed and said, “It’s part of the experience. You’ll see. It’s fun!”

  They arrived in front of the hotel. It was in a beautiful old historic building. The bellhop came out to take their bags.

  “Merci beaucoup,” Kate said with a smile.

  Grant tagged along after her as she walked through the sumptuous lobby. Kate luxuriated in the interior design. The marble floors, the hand-painted wallpaper in a subtle pattern, and the custom crystal chandeliers all gave the impression of elegance and comfortable luxury. She breathed in the faintly perfumed air and pointed to the grand staircase that led up to a mezzanine.

  “The bar is up there, and the restaurant is through that door,” she told Grant. “There’s a second, more casual bar that also serves food on the other side of the lobby, in case you can’t secure a reservation.”

  They walked up to the front desk. Kate smoothed her skirt, hoping her hair still looked okay. Charles Brassard, the hotel manager, came out to greet them. He looked Kate up and down surreptitiously and gave her an approving look. She had passed! She felt elated. Then Brassard looked at Grant. She could see him wanting to raise an eyebrow, but he was too professional.