The Hawks_A Novel

by SD Hendrickson

  “Do you find it funny to watch a woman without her permission?” I remarked.

  He laughed softly. “Well, if a beautiful woman blocks my view of the pool, then what choice do I have?”

  I took a few steps closer, seeing Javier slightly reclined with his feet stretched out on the chair. He wore only a pair of black swim trunks. Moonlight filtered down through the branches, emphasizing his bare chest.

  Javier had well-defined arms and thighs—all balanced in solid strength. I assumed he didn’t have time for obsessive hours in a gym. But he kept up just enough dedication to hide a very attractive body beneath his expensive clothes.

  I thought back to the question he’d proposed on the day we met. No, I didn’t prefer him outside cutting the roses or in his designer suit. I think he looked better naked. The sudden torrid thought warmed my insides. Our eyes met and his lips shifted into an amused grin. One at my expense since he could clearly see I was staring at his body.

  I shifted my gaze away. “Do you swim?”

  “Sí. But not as much as I like. Have you been in the pool yet?”

  “No.”

  “It’s very nice. You should try it.”

  The breeze ruffled my hair around my shoulders, tickling my skin. “I’m sure it is. But I just came for a quick smoke before bed.”

  “Yet you only hold the cigarette.”

  “We were having an argument. I was trying to end the relationship and he was asking for break-up sex.”

  “I see.” Javier chuckled and then he shifted his legs to the side, freeing up space next to him on the reclining chair. “Take a seat, Sarina.”

  My eyes drifted over his body again. I knew staying out here wasn’t the best idea. Not as an employee. My harmless curiosity in the man had already played too strong with my thoughts. Reluctantly, I shook my head. “It’s late. I probably should go back inside.”

  “Maybe this will change your mind.” He grinned, holding up a large cigar. “Have you ever smoked a Damian? You won’t have a hard time saying goodbye to your cigarettes after one of these.”

  He put the end between his lips and pulled out a pack of matches. Striking the side, a large flame rose up from the stick as he sucked in multiple drags until glowing embers formed at the end. The air filled with the sweet smell of high-priced tobacco, deep and rich. It was intoxicating, grabbing that place under my skin that ached for a hit.

  “Want a taste?” His lips tilted into a devious smile.

  The seductive tone of his question sent a heated flush under my skin. But it didn’t matter. My reservations had already caved when he said Dah-mi-an. Like a moth to a flame. One little smoke wouldn’t hurt.

  “Why not.”

  I sat down next to him, separated by only a few inches. The minimal sleep clothes didn’t cover much, and I wore nothing underneath. I guess not any different than a swimsuit, but satin had a way of feeling more revealing than a bikini. The thin fabric brushed my bare skin like fingers, heightening the awareness of the man sharing my seat.

  Javier handed the cigar to me and I gripped it between my thumb and index finger. Placing the tip against my lips, I felt the warm moisture of where his mouth had just touched the same place—like a secondhand kiss.

  “Don’t inhale the way you do a cigarette. Hold the smoke in your mouth.” His voice caressed the words. “Let it settle on your tongue. Then release. Cigars are all about the taste.”

  As I pulled in a shallow drag, I glanced over at Javier, seeing his eyes fixated on my lips. I held the smoke in my mouth for a few moments and then let it escape. I tasted the flavors in layers. At first, it was the hard, smoky richness of the tobacco followed by deep cherry and topped off with a faint hint of whiskey that came with a spicy afterkick.

  “This is good.” I pulled in another puff and handed the cigar back.

  “Muy bueno.” His lips closed around where mine had just touched the tip. Sucking in deep, the air between us filled with smoke as he handed it back to me. “The tobacco will soak into your blood soon. And you’ll get what you need. Una noche con Damian.”

  “What I need?”

  “To win the argument with your cigarettes. You want to end the relationship? Experience sex with someone else. One night with Damian.”

  I laughed, feeling the slow buzz of the tobacco. It started in my lower stomach, spreading out through my limbs, latching onto my thoughts. The stress from the day virtually disappeared along with my worries. “Is this even legal?”

  “In some places.”

  “Is that where you’ve been? Away buying fancy illegal cigars?”

  Javier had disappeared right after I’d moved into the house. He was at dinner the first night and we had a formal conversation with his grandmother. And then he was gone. Mrs. Hawthorn casually mentioned he was away on business but never spoke of him again. And I didn’t dare ask.

  “I was needed at home.”

  “Colombia?”

  He grinned. “I see you have done your homework since we last spoke. I guess you know everything about me now.”

  “Not really.” I shrugged. “But I may have Googled the Hawthorns. You know, since I was moving in here. Learn all the secrets of the people I’d be living with.”

  “Really . . .” His eyebrows went up in amusement. “And what did you find?”

  “Honestly? Not much. So don’t worry. Your secrets are safe.” I grinned. “But I did read that you grew up in Colombia and your father owns a coffee plantation now.”

  “Works for.”

  “What?”

  “He doesn’t own the plantation. He works for my abuelo. Technically.” Javier handed Damian back to me.

  “What do you mean?” I took a drag and tilted my chin to get a better look at him as the smoke left my lips.

  “Well, when my father left here, he was traveling, hoping to find some meaning to his life away from the Hawthorns. And then he met my mother. Said he fell in love the moment he first saw her. So he decided to stay in Colombia and work for my abuelo.”

  I smiled. “Sounds very romantic.”

  “Sí. And now my abuelo is training my father to take over for him. But in recent years, he’s been the boss. And part of being the boss is working in the field. My father said it was the first true and honest work he’d ever done.”

  “That’s kind of inspiring.” I took another drag before passing the cigar back to him. “So did you help your family when you lived there?”

  He nodded. “I’ve worked every harvest since I was seven. But it’s a small plantation compared to others.”

  “And you liked it? You didn’t think it was torture as a kid?”

  “First, I love my father. I would do anything he asks. That’s why I just returned home for a few weeks. And second, there’s something very rewarding about accomplishing work with your hands. How did you put it? Any job worth having is not easy.”

  “Yes. I think that’s true.” I watched his lips as they closed around the cigar. “Then why are you here? Why not work for your father in Colombia?”

  He let the smoke drift out slowly. “I will one day. For now, I’m here. But I miss my family very much. My sisters are getting older. Sophia has a boyfriend. I think she’ll get married soon. I don’t really even know him. But I’ll go back. Eventually.”

  Damian found his way back in my hand and I took another hit, feeling the moisture of our mouths closely blending together. “So when did you move to the Hawthorn estate?”

  “Well, that’s a complicated story. I never met my American grandfather. But I always knew my father didn’t like his family very much. When I was seventeen, we came for my grandfather’s funeral. It’s the only time my father has been here for thirty-one years. My grandmother offered to send me to college in America. And I thought it was a good idea. But college turned into a job and here I am. My father’s not happy with my decision. He’s afraid I’ll stay forever. And they will corrupt my mind.”

  “Have they not?” I had to ask. He
seemed pretty ingrained into the world of the American Hawthorns.

  “No. I’m very aware of who I am. But I won’t lie. I enjoy working at the company. And the expensive perks are nice. But money doesn’t guarantee a happy life. I’m reminded of that every time I speak with my grandmother.”

  “Yes.” I rolled my eyes. “She seems like a very happy person.”

  “Not all of the Hawthorns are like her.”

  “True. I guess some Hawthorns can be considered charming,” I teased him.

  “You’re funny, Sarina.” An amused smile appeared on his lips. “But I was going to say my uncle Ted isn’t anything like my grandmother. He’s a good man. Welcomed me into the company like I was his own son. My grandmother believes I’ll take over for Ted when he retires. She’s already making plans.”

  “Really?” My voice shifted to a whisper. “She doesn’t know you’re going to leave Hawk’s Landing?”

  He laughed. “Are you afraid she’ll hear you?”

  “And you’re not?”

  “No. Out here we’re safe. She can’t see or hear us.” Javier took the cigar from my fingers, holding on longer than necessary with a caress. It spun the attraction between us like a cloud of smoke—strong and then fading away, yet lingering in the air—never quite leaving even when his hand let go of mine.

  I fought to steady my thoughts before I spoke again. “So what’s your plan?”

  “Well, in the beginning, I wanted to pay back school. Work for the company to show my grandmother it was worth bringing me here. But then Ted spent time teaching me about the business and then I gained responsibilities. I felt that I owed him too. So I stayed longer. But it has all been worth it. Business skills learned from one company can be applied to others. I’ll take that with me when I return to Colombia. I can use it to my advantage.”

  “To start your own company? Compete against the Hawk’s?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I want to work with my father. We have an idea. Growing grapes for wine has become something new in Colombia. Another vineyard isn’t very far away. We want to give it a try. Take a small portion of the coffee plantation and see about growing grapes. We will have our own wine label. Rojas de Amanecer.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Rojas’s Sunrise. In honor of my mother’s family name and the plantation has the most beautiful mornings I’ve ever seen.” His voice was full of passion as he shared the plans of his future. His dream.

  “That sounds very nice,” I whispered. The world he described seemed like heaven on earth.

  We didn’t speak for a few moments. The silence filled with the vibrant sounds of crickets and water trickling in the pool. He fascinated me. Someone so different, talking about his future. His dreams. So confident they would come true without a doubt.

  Javier shifted in the chair, resting his thigh against my butt cheeks. His warm skin burned through my satin shorts like nothing separated us at all. I studied him—lounged back, eyes hooded by dark lashes. His smile mysterious as he held my attention. I found myself wondering if he kissed tenderly with those lips, teasing the way he did with his words.

  My mind drifted with ideas. I could easily lean back in the chair next to Javier. His whole body against mine. Rest my head on his shoulder. Let his hand slip around my waist. Lips brush my neck. I bet it would feel nice, surrounded by the hazy evening of the night air and smoke. Comforting. He had that quality in him. A calmness. I felt it as he spoke. As he looked at me.

  Our eyes met. His lips shifted into an amused grin as if he’d read those thoughts. I wasn’t someone who blushed easily. And I fought back a smile as I shifted my focus out toward the aqua-blue water of the pool. Lifting the cigar up to my mouth, I pulled in a drag and then let it gradually leave my lips. “So your father is waiting on you to start the vineyard?”

  “It’s my idea. So no. He will help me when I’m ready. But even without the vineyard, my father wants me to leave this place. Leave Hawk’s Landing. He says they’re dangerous birds. Their majestic beauty blinds your eyes as they pick the flesh from your bones.”

  “Wow.” My laughter echoed across the patio as I turned back to look at him. “That is—”

  “Correct? Don’t you agree?”

  “I was going to say dark and twisted. But yes. I guess that’s true.” I nodded. “So do you know how much longer you’re staying?”

  “My uncle has a business deal that should finalize at the end of the year. I’ll try to leave after my part is finished.”

  “That soon.” The disappointment hit me harder than it should right now. The curiosity and fantasies had grown too vivid. I shook off the feeling. I wasn’t here for Javier. I was here for the job and the job alone. “So your father really hates the family.”

  “No. Just my grandmother. He likes his brother. I believe they have an understanding. Ted has even visited my family in Colombia.”

  “Has your grandmother ever been there?”

  “You really are funny, Sarina.” He laughed. “Do you see my grandmother in Colombia? No. She believes the country is only full of drug lords. She even said that to me once. ‘You should be grateful. I’ve saved you from your mother’s drug-running cousins.’ But it’s not a complete lie. I do have a few bad Colombian primos . . . eh . . . cousins. Not that I would have ended up with them. But they came to visit a few years ago and she tried to have Santos arrested. He got very angry with her. But I have some bad American primos too. Geography doesn’t define a bad relative.”

  “I guess that’s true.”

  He nodded.

  “Ms. Atwood!” Her high-pitch squeal came from the intercom panel. She loved to use the old system to summon the staff, blasting the same message through every room of the house. “I need you to report to my study immediately.”

  My eyes closed for a moment. “I guess this day is never going to end.”

  “No, Sarina. Don’t leave.” He placed a hand on my leg to stop me. “It’s one in the morning. You stay here and I’ll go talk with her. There’s nothing she needs that can’t wait until the sun is out.”

  “Please don’t. This is my job. My problem. I can handle her.”

  “Are you sure? I could help.” Javier’s eyes wrinkled up in concern as his hand remained on my thigh. I felt his thumb brushing casually on the inside, sending little flickers up my leg and under my satin shorts. The attraction to this man went up about ten notches in the last ten seconds. Words and fantasies were innocent. Touching. That changed things.

  But none of that mattered right now. I needed to appease Mrs. Hawthorn before she summoned me again. He stood up from the chair, his hand falling away as I was left with only the warm imprint of his fingers. I composed my thoughts with a simple smile. “Good night, Javier. This was fun. Thank you.”

  “Sí. It was. But since you insist on leaving, I want to at least apologize for my grandmother.”

  “It’s not your fault. I knew what I was getting into with this job. And I understand the importance of business lessons too. I know all of this work and stress will get me somewhere else someday.”

  “I hope it does.” He offered a warm smile.

  “Thanks.”

  Javier held my gaze. The embers of the cigar glowed seductively in the darkness. “You should join me out here again, Sarina. The night air has a way of erasing all the stress from the day. I know it does mine.”

  I didn’t answer immediately as I considered the nature of his invite. It wasn’t a brilliant idea to start my new job by spending time with Javier. I knew better. The risks were longer than my résumé. But he planned to leave soon. Any involvement had an automatic time limit. But it would make the next few months rather fun.

  “Ms. Atwood!”

  “I’m sorry. I . . . have to go.” The words came out in a hurried rush as I turned to leave. I ran toward the intercom panel on the wall. I felt bad for the other residents of the house. I bet Brenda had just drifted off to sleep after cooking her soufflé, only t
o be scared shitless by the loud screech in the darkness.

  My finger hit the talk button. “I’m on my way, Mrs. Hawthorn.”

  “You need to hurry. Time is wasting. All of these invitations need to be written again. They are in blue! That is unacceptable. You know black is considered formal ink. I can’t believe I didn’t notice you were writing with the wrong pen. But I assumed you knew better.”

  What the hell! She was out of her mind. The woman gave me that pen. The damn blue pen. And she scrutinized over my shoulder as I wrote every stupid word on the stupid stationery in stupid blue ink.

  Gritting my teeth, I hit the talk button again and focused on conveying a pleasant and concise tone. “I will be there in a moment and we can sort this out.”

  “I’ve already sorted this out, Ms. Atwood. I cut open every envelope and they are all in blue. We must fix this before the post office opens. I can’t have the invites delayed another day.”

  She’d ripped every damn paper with a letter opener. There was nothing left to discuss. Nothing left to salvage. Taking a deep breath, I let it out in defeat. “Yes, Mrs. Hawthorn. I will come fix them.”

  Present Day

  “HURRY IT UP. WE AIN’T got all night.”

  The champagne bucket passed down the row of eight people like an offering plate in church. Each hostage emptied their pockets, placing cell phones in a silver container filled with ice water.

  Mesmerizing. A shock to the senses.

  Taking one of the thick zip ties, the man in the gray mask lifted the hands of the butler who remained slumped over, unconscious. The intruders bound his wrists before moving on to Virginia who still held onto her husband. Tears ran down her wrinkled cheeks as they pried her hands free of Elmore and zipped them tight.

  Together for over fifty years—torn apart at the worst moment in their lives.

  I tried to remain calm, seeing the men move closer to me. The swelling in my face made it difficult to breathe. I swallowed, tasting blood in the back of my throat. I think that asshole just broke my nose.