“Mascarpone cream,” Nana replied with a contented smile.
There was nothing that made Sylvie happier than seeing her grandma finding satisfaction in feeding people. Because that was what made Nana happiest. Feeling sad? Eat something. Happy? Eat something. Angry? Eat something. And if you were too lazy to cook for yourself. I’ll make you something. For her, food nourished more than the body; it nourished the soul. The way she poured herself into its preparation and cooking could be tasted in each dish.
Meeting Beatrice again in this personal setting dispelled any lingering misgivings she had about Nate’s friendship with the redhead. It was nothing like what she and Nate shared. Nate didn’t look at Beatrice the way he looked at her. He definitely treated Beatrice fondly, like a sister he never had, but that was it. Besides, Beatrice had her own hot guy who was very different from Nate. Gabriel Sullivan was very reserved and didn’t exhibit any of her man’s playfulness.
The conversation around the table was varied. It had gotten particularly tense when Daichi Yoshida was brought into the discussion.
“It’s our belief he’s coming for you,” Caitlin’s tone was almost apologetic. “We are certain he’s in the United States. He could be anywhere along the I-95 corridor. He’s got allies scattered from Boston to Miami; it would be difficult to pinpoint who he will contact to help him move around the United States. I could request resources on the NSA Signal Intelligence tracking system, but someone of a higher position needs to sponsor the request.”
All eyes fell on Porter. The admiral sighed and looked at Travis. “You need to do a better job of keeping your wife out of trouble.”
Travis exhaled a mock-sigh. “Well, that’s like putting a leash on a pit bull.”
“Hey—I was just helping Nate,” Caitlin shot the man in question a look. “If I’m in trouble, it’s because of him.”
“My request was perfectly legit.”
“Oh, like what? The part where you asked me to break into the DEA database?”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Gabe interjected suddenly.
Sylvie gasped. “Nate, you didn’t. You’re a civilian now. What if you get caught?”
Her man shrugged as if it was no big deal. “Why do you think we keep the admiral around even if he’s an ornery pain in the ass?”
“See what I have to put up with?” the admiral tsked as he looked at Pru. “My job it seems is to clean up their messes.”
“Sounds like an important job to me,” her mother replied in a noncommittal manner. A hint of irritation passed through the admiral’s face, but quickly disappeared. Sylvie had not talked to her mother about this brewing tension between her and the admiral. But if Sylvie had to weigh in, she would surmise that her mother realized, after her initial attraction to the admiral, he was too dominant and ultra-alpha, and it spooked her independent nature. After having been crushed by her father, Pru wasn’t about to be swept off her feet by the same type of man. It was funny how it took the contrast between the admiral and her mom’s former boyfriends for Sylvie to understand the influence of Pru’s past relationship with her dad to her choices going forward.
Although, Sylvie had to give credit to the admiral. The man was tenacious in his pursuit. After she’d more than witnessed several rebuffs from her mother, Sylvie was sure the admiral was going to toss her mom over his shoulder—caveman style—and secure her in a room until he’d make her listen to him.
“What are you going to do if he wants you to go back with him?” Beatrice asked.
“He’s not even going to get the opportunity to ask,” Nate growled.
“That should be my decision, don’t you think?” Sylvie retorted.
“Sylvie …” Nate’s voice held a warning.
“Don’t you think he has the answers we need?” Pru asked. “This whole thing is his fault—”
“Damn right it is.” This was from the admiral.
“I’m not going anywhere with him.” Sylvie covered Nate’s hand in reassurance. “Not when what I need is right here.”
Her man relaxed beside her. “We’ll fix this, Sylvs. We’ll find out who’s after you, who’s a threat to you.” Nate exhaled a breath. “And you can be damn sure you’re not facing your father without me.”
“He might not like other—”
“Not without me,” Nate stated in a voice Sylvie knew brooked no argument.
She nodded once, pursing her lips before saying, “Okay.”
“Good call,” the admiral said, pushing back from his chair and standing up. “It looks like everyone’s done with dinner as well. The men can clean up with the exception of Taylor and Kato.”
“Hey, why am I suddenly conscripted to clean up?” Nate grumbled.
Gabe stood and clapped Nate on the shoulder. “Stop bitching, Reece. The women cooked, men clean up. That’s the rule.”
“Suck up,” Nate shot back. “Must be hard having the admiral as a father-in-law-to-be.”
“Ain’t too bad,” Gabe’s eyes fell on Sylvie. “I have a feeling if Ben has his way, we’ll be one big happy family.”
“Fabulous,” Nate muttered. “Just what I needed.”
Sylvie wasn’t too sure about that probability.
It was an unspoken agreement, but Sylvie followed Beatrice and Caitlin to the patio while the men cleaned up in the kitchen. Nana and Pru were preparing blackberry cobbler dessert to be served with the vanilla ice cream Sylvie churned yesterday. It was a balmy spring evening, warm, with just enough cool breeze to make the outdoors a welcoming space.
“So,” Beatrice said, “my dad and your mom, huh?”
“Um, I’m not too sure about that,” Sylvie said. “I don’t know your dad very well, but from the looks of it, my mom is not very receptive.”
Beatrice nodded glumly. “Yeah. What’s the deal with that? It’s like she won’t even give my dad a chance to steer things in that direction.”
Sylvie sighed. “Beatrice, they’ve only known each other a week. I’m not saying my mom’s not spontaneous. She is. But she’s very independent. I think your dad’s coming on too strong; it’s making her skittish.” She eyed the redhead with interest. “I’m actually surprised you’re pushing this. I thought you’d be against it.”
“That was my first reaction,” Beatrice admitted sheepishly. “I’ve seen a change in my dad this past year. I think Gabe is a good influence on him. He doesn’t back down from my dad if something needs telling. I think he’s made my dad look into himself and face what he’s been avoiding.”
“You’re right,” Caitlin piped in. “I did notice a change in the admiral. I’m so glad you gave Gabe a chance, Bee, even if I did try to shoot him at first.” This startled Sylvie. These folks do have strange beginnings.
“I couldn’t be luckier.” Beatrice smiled, a dreamy look coming over her face. “My dad is not new to relationships, you know. But they were more for companionship, some lasting for years, but never serious. He’d take them out to dinner or to fundraisers or political parties, but I have never, ever seen him look at a woman as he has your mom. I don’t think he knows what to do with rejection.”
“You think it’s the challenge?” Sylvie asked, suddenly perturbed. “If that’s all it is, I’d appreciate it if you tell him to leave my mother alone.” She was suddenly protective of Mom, although she knew Pru could handle the admiral more than anyone else.
The glass door slid open. Nate stepped out bearing a tray of desserts. “What are you three gossiping about?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be cleaning up?”
Nate emitted what sounded like a chortle, setting the cobblers on the table. “Babe, you’ve got two ex-SEALs, an admiral, and me doing clean-up. We’re efficient. It’s done.” He paused, a smile playing on his lips. “Travis broke a glass though.”
“How?” Caitlin asked, eyes narrowed.
“Let me guess . . . you lobbed it at him, didn’t you?” Beatrice said dryly.
“Not my fault his reflex
es are not what they used to be.”
Sylvie couldn’t help grinning. This man was incorrigible. “If that’s your way of getting out of dishwashing duty in the future, you’ll be sorely disappointed.”
“Now, now, babe. You can put me to better uses.” Nate smirked, spooning warm cobbler and melty vanilla ice cream and waving it tantalizingly close to her lips. “Now, open wide. You need some practice for later.”
The other two women laughed and made gagging noises.
“Nate, really?”
He was grinning salaciously, still holding the spoon in front of her.
See? Incorrigible.
Sylvie opened her mouth and accepted the delicious bite of sweetness, all the while glaring at Nate. But when he leaned over and kissed her, she melted as quickly as ice cream on a hot cobbler.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Daichi Yoshida paced the length of the small living room of an old three level house. He arrived in this low-key neighborhood in Silver Spring, Maryland three days ago. A traveling mafia boss was a tricky endeavor, which was why they frequently ruled from the sanctuary of their stronghold. Enemies from both sides of the law would be after him, and with the power play going on inside the ACS, he didn’t know whom to trust.
When he heard the explosion and the subsequent cry of Sylvie before the phone went dead, he knew time was of the essence. He couldn’t hand over his biochemist for reasons important to him, but more than anything, it boiled down to principle. If he gave in to the demands of The Jackal, that would be a sign of weakness. That sign of weakness would destabilize the ACS and the members of the organization would blame his daughter. They could vote to remediate the problem—have Sylvie Yoshida assassinated. He could not allow the situation to deteriorate to such measures. One solution was to have her marry Hiroshi. This would go a long way to appease the ruling council of ACS.
Except, Daichi didn’t trust Hiroshi nowadays, and his daughter would never be the meek wife he knew his lieutenant wanted. It was not an ideal match-up in temperament and might prove detrimental to his seat at the ACS council. They couldn’t afford the mistake he had made with Sylvie’s mother, Prudence. Letting his heart rule his head led to an even bigger mistake of lying to Prudence about the realities of his world. At that time, the ACS was only in its third year, and as a man who was not quite thirty, he already had too many responsibilities to be complicated by falling for a free spirit. He wanted to bend every rule for her and allow her freedom. In the end, he had sequestered her in his compound after an attempt on Prudence and Sylvie’s life. He had come clean to her then. She was in a relationship with a mafia boss, not a mere Tokyo businessman. It would be another year before she left him, taking their daughter with her. He left them alone, but kept tabs on where they were, and hoped they would need him in some way. Now he had messed up his daughter’s life once more because of greed and ambition. It was a risk he took to ensure the ephedrine pipeline, but now even that was in jeopardy, and he needed answers from Hiroshi.
There was also the problem with his daughter’s suitor. Nathan Reece was part-owner of a security company. He had been in the Army Special Forces, and after that were five years of questionable occupations like the businessman persona he assumed when he visited Sylvie in Tokyo. His minions couldn’t dig up any more intel, and that told Daichi that Nathan Reece shouldn’t be underestimated.
The front door opened and one of his henchmen came in.
“Well?”
“We can’t find Hiroshi. We do know the Metropolitan police have a BOLO out on him stemming from his assault of that Nathan Reece guy.”
Daichi cursed. This was the worst thing his lieutenant could have done—commit a blatant crime on U.S. soil and be on radar with law enforcement officials. On top of that, two of his men were in custody. A nagging unease crawled up his spine. It wasn’t a good idea to be here when the situation was too hot. He was hoping he could persuade his daughter to leave with him without argument. Otherwise . . . he looked at his converging men in the living room . . . he would resort to a different kind of persuasion.
*****
Where the hell is he?
Sylvie tapped her pen on the table, waiting for Taylor to return from his car. They were at Sapporo Ramen to talk about the rebuild and plan out its phases. She and her team completed the clean up this morning and disposed of most of the debris. Her insurance finally approved her claims and the funds would be available soon. She sat at the farthest table in the dining area that would give her a sweeping view of the restaurant and looked at the sketch on the paper. They needed to expand the ramen bar, especially since they had a lot of single walk-ins. They had enough two-top and four-top tables. Taylor finally convinced her to accept credit cards, and she’d been evaluating handheld devices for her Point of Sales system. They had all voted unanimously to keep their “no reservations, no substitutions, and no take-out” policy.
She glanced over to Sam who was wrapping up testing the controls of the upgraded security system. Nate informed her of its impending installation—keyword being “informed.” There were many things she could debate with him, but security was not one of them. When it came to its technology, manpower, or method, she trusted Nate.
“Sam, can you see what’s taking Taylor so long? Maybe he couldn’t get the door open while carrying that piece for the restaurant.” Her sous chef said he found a cool koi painting to hang on one of the walls. Sam’s nod was fleeting. The bodyguard was a man of few words, but was very efficient and exacting in his actions. Nate appeared to trust the man implicitly, even if he had not been with BSI long. According to Nate though, Sam’s mettle was tested in a horrific assault on the safe house where Beatrice had been ensconced in when she had been a target for revenge on the admiral and Gabe. Sam had fought alongside Nate and the admiral in that firefight, and they held down the fort, outnumbered and all, until reinforcements arrived.
Minutes passed. Now where the hell was Sam?
Her phone buzzed.
“Kato?”
Her assistant’s panicked voice rattled through the phone.
“Kato. Calm down. I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“They shut it down!”
“What got shut down?”
“Our RevivalTrail campaign! We had raised over $5000. I got a call from one of our customers who said they couldn’t find it, so I logged on, and I see it, but I can’t change anything. It’s frozen.”
“So, it’s still there?” Sylvie tried her best to remain calm.
“Yes. I sent an email to their customer service, but I have yet to hear a response. What’s going on?”
“I’ll find out.” Her phone beeped, informing her of another incoming call. Nate. “It might be the contents of our campaign and someone might have taken issue with it and filed a complaint.”
“It’s fairly standard. I compared it to someone else’s project and there was nothing unusual about ours.”
“Look, Nate’s calling,” Sylvie said. “Are you at the guesthouse with Nana and Mom?”
“Yes. The admiral called Nate. He’s probably on it now.”
She sighed. Nate was taking on her problems again. How could he stand it? Any sane man would drop her quickly and run the other way. But he seemed to be facing each and every obstacle with her, even propping her up when she felt like sinking under the weight of all her drama.
She was a second late answering his call and it went to voice mail. Sylvie hurried along the hallway to the back exit. She yanked it open and stilled. Taylor and Sam were squared off against two men in suits. They didn’t seem to be like any of Hiroshi’s men nor her father’s.
“Ms. Yoshida, go back inside,” Sam growled, using his body to shield her.
“What’s going on?” She snuck a peek around her bodyguard’s broad shoulder.
“Ms. Yoshida. FBI.” Both men flashed their badges and gave their names. The first suit addressed Sam. “You can’t stop us from asking our questions. That’s obstruct
ing a federal investigation.”
“A federal investigation into what?” Sylvie asked, bewildered.
“You have a crowd-funding campaign that was reported to be a front for money laundering.”
The bottom fell out of her gut. “What?”
“A lead came across our tip line last night, but we didn’t take action until this morning when ten thousand dollars was pledged to your project.”
“It could be a generous benefactor,” Taylor pointed out.
One FBI agent smirked, the other one sneered and said, “We weren’t born yesterday, buddy.”
“That’s not a very professional response. Besides isn’t 10k a bit small for money laundering?” Sylvie stated, still looking from behind Sam. Or rather, Sam had a very effective way of keeping the two suits away from her. “How are we even sure you’re FBI? I mean, if you are, you should’ve been aware of the attempt on my life and should have known better than just show up here unannounced. You can’t blame Mr. Harper for being diligent in his job. ”
The two agents at least appeared embarrassed. Just then, the sound of a motorcycle roared closer. Nate.
His bike zipped right beside Taylor’s car. He was off it in a flash, stalking to her side while glaring at the two feds.
“Are you all right?” Nate asked, a muscle ticked his jaw.
Sylvie nodded, unable to speak. Relief stole the wind of her false bravado, but she clenched her jaw to keep her lips from trembling.
The feds flashed their badges again and was about to introduce themselves when Nate cut them off.
“I know who you both are.” His voice was edged with vitriol. He repeated the names the feds said earlier. Their eyes widened in surprise. “You two bozos are coming with me to meet with your department head so we can get to the bottom of this nonsense.”
“Now wait a minute—” one of the feds sputtered.
“Go ahead,” Nate said tersely. “Check in with your superior.” He turned to Sylvie. “I’m meeting up with Porter at the J. Edgar Hoover building.” His hand squeezed her shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”
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