by C. D. Gill
“Ah!” Cara jerked and whirled around, her eyes big. “Oh, uh. I was going to go home and grab a few things for tonight.”
Mmm hm. “I’m sure we’ve got it here. Or Antia and Sara can bring theirs. What do you need?”
“My phone charger, my heels, and my credit card.” She fished around through her purse. “Oh, here’s my charger.”
“I’ll pay and you can wear those red heels of mine you love,” Gia said. They made her so happy and confident, Gia debated giving them to her. But it kept her coming back to Gia’s closet which Gia loved. Cara was the closest thing to a sister Gia had ever had, and Joey her brother. She’d do anything for them.
“I’m not really feeling the red heels today.” Cara pushed the hair from her face. Dark circles rimmed her eyes, her skin pale in contrast. She’d lost a lot of weight in the last few months. Gia longed to pull her into her arms as if that’d make all her troubles disappear and soothe her grief.
She held out her hand instead. “Let’s go see if I have anything you want. If not, we have Ma and Judita’s shoe collections to look through. It could take us a while.”
Cara slowly stretched out her hand to take Gia’s. For those brief moments while they walked into the house with Cara’s hand tucked under her arm, everything felt normal again. Like there wasn’t a widening chasm between them that couldn’t be bridged. Maybe their sisterhood could survive this overwhelming grief, after all.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been home more. This project Joey left me is…” How did she say it without ragging on Joey? “A true challenge. I haven’t done anything like it in so many years.”
“I understand. He warned me he was going to ask you to finish the project. He’s a visionary like that.” Cara squeezed her hand. “I miss that giant goon. I should have gone with him. He offered to get us both out of town, but I thought I should be home looking for a job so I don’t waste my life being a leech.” Her derisive snort shook her body. “No one wants me right now.”
Gia paused at the entrance to her closet while Cara flopped onto the bed. “So join him.” Cara waved a hand toward her. “I’m serious. Buy a ticket and meet him over there. Don’t have regrets on top of grief, Cara. Life is too short. No one hires around the holidays. Come back refreshed and hit the ads hard in the New Year.”
A guttural noise came from the bed which Gia interpreted as conversation over. Buying a ticket herself to join Joey sounded like bliss right now. Escaping this stalker nonsense would be worth every penny.
She made a note to talk to Ma about convincing Cara to meet Joey in Portugal. He’d be there until the embassy could issue him an expedited passport. The more she mulled over the idea, the better she liked it. International travel could be just the thing to help her.
Gia stepped from her closet with two options she thought Cara would like best. Cara stared glassy eyed, then declined them. Eight options later, Gia gave up and fell onto the bed beside Cara. They said nothing as they lay there staring at the ceiling. When she finally thought of something to say, she turned to find Cara asleep.
It lasted only a few minutes until Antia and Sara burst into her room with their arms full of everything they’d need to get ready.
“Look what Tia Judita gave us to wear tonight,” Sara squealed, dumping shirts and bottoms on the bed. Antia followed with dresses and shoes.
Cara shifted with a groan. “Can we go somewhere that allows jeans and t-shirts? Getting dressed up is so…” Her nose scrunched. “Much unnecessary work. And I’d argue that we might have an even better time because we’re comfortable.”
Gia, Sara, and Antia stared for a second. “No,” they said at the same time.
And for the next two hours, they proved Cara completely right. Getting fancy was a ton of work, but way more fun when done together. Gia straightened her hair for the occasion and Sara did everyone’s makeup. By seven, they were finally ready and descended the staircase carefully in their heels.
Daddy stood next to the front door, chatting with Andy who straightened when they came downstairs as if they were his dates for the evening. Gia’s heart sank. She’d forgotten about their babysitter. For a brief second, she wanted to shake him into telling her what she needed to know about Cara so they could actually enjoy their evening and be done with the secrets.
The others rounded into the kitchen.
“Mm. He is a beautiful man,” Antia said in Portuguese to their group.
A grunt came from Breno standing in front of the open refrigerator. “Please wait until I leave the room before you lust out loud.”
Antia wiggled her fingers at her brother as he disappeared into the other room with a cold drink in hand. The girls said their goodbyes to the rest of the family and piled into a GetThere vehicle with a driver. While they’d gotten ready, they talked about the plan for the evening. Since they wanted to try as many different places as possible, they decided on a progressive dinner.
An appetizer, dinner, and dessert, each at a different restaurant. Live music or a live show would be a bonus.
First up, Sara chose for them to have an appetizer on the roof of a hotel overlooking the Mississippi River. The Christmas lights added an intoxicating sparkle to the old-style buildings. Wreaths, Christmas trees, candles, and garland captivated every window and doorframe. It was the one thing the most of the city could agree on.
Cara stayed quiet, letting everyone dominate the conversation, unless asked a pointed question. Her sullen attitude grated on Gia, but the fear of chasing her away had her holding her tongue. She didn’t have to pretend to be okay, but she could talk about it and let them in on her feelings.
Andy sat with another guy she’d never seen before. Their backs were to the wall so the whole rooftop was in their field of vision. If she hadn’t been looking for him, she wouldn’t have noticed him. They blended right in.
Finished and paid, they walked the three blocks to Adolfo’s and had a drink at Apple Barrel Bar downstairs while they waited to be seated. Although they’d been to the small restaurant a number of times since arriving, Antia had begged to go again. The steak and special house sauce was an easy choice to agree to.
Cara had racked up four glasses in front of her by the time they were ready to be seated. She told them she’d meet them upstairs at the table and slowly worked her way through the crowd to the bathroom. Gia only needed to glance around to see Andy and his friend already seated at a table with plates of food in front of them. How had they gotten in without standing in line like everyone else? Adolfo’s didn’t take reservations.
When Cara returned, she forgot about them as Sara and Antia told stories about their failed dating attempts over the last couple of years. The dating scene in Rio was dismal, but the male tourists made going out a cheap, fun event. Her cousins hadn’t ever struck her as the freeloading types so picturing them angling for free food and drinks by tossing their long, dark hair and dancing with strangers had her enraptured.
As they paid their bills and waited for Cara’s barely touched plate to be boxed up, Gia had an idea. “Hey, how about we grab a few desserts to go and take a nighttime river cruise?”
Cara shrugged, her expression bored even though her eyes never stopped roaming around the room. Antia and Sara glanced at each other.
“I thought we were going to that sundae shop,” Antia said.
Sara nodded. “Yeah, that sounded really good.”
Gia squinted at them. Antia loved the paddleboats on the river and Sara didn’t love American ice cream. “What’s going on?”
Sara fidgeted with her purse in her lap. “We just had a plan, that’s all.”
“It’s called flexibility,” Cara said with a smirk, her finger jabbing into Sara’s arm. “Live a little. You should be more spontaneous.”
“It’s not that we can’t be spontaneous,” Antia said. She glanced at Sara. “We told everyone that we’d be going to the sundae shop, so we want to honor that.”
“Aw, it’s cute that you two
have to check in with your parents on everything.” Cara lifted her drink to her lips. “You should try having no parents, like me. Then, you could do whatever you wanted.” Her words were a stab to the heart. She muttered something about overprotective watchdogs and leashes.
“It’s not our parents that are worried,” Sara said, receiving a sharp elbow from Antia.
Gia tapped the table with her finger. “Explain.”
Antia offered her an apologetic smile. “Your parents want you to be safe while we’re out.”
But Sara’s expression said there was more.
“Sara?”
Her face crumpled slightly. “Andy gave us an approved list of places to choose from for tonight. We promised to stick to the plan, so you wouldn’t be exposed to whoever is out to get you. It’s for your safety.”
Cara’s loud laugh made Gia jump as her hand landed on Gia’s shoulder. “It always comes back to Princess Gia needing protection from something. Sheltered and spoiled since day one.”
Gia pressed her lips together, fighting to keep her anger in check. “I didn’t ask to be targeted by the stalker. Joey didn’t tell me what he’d been going through before he left.”
“That’s because he thought you wouldn’t take the project for him if you knew you were going to be targeted, especially after your drama with Bronc.” Cara rolled her eyes. “Come on. He knows you better than that.”
Heat rose in her cheeks. Cara had gone way too far this time. Shifting in her seat, she faced her full on. The verbal blow she was ready to deliver paused on the tip of her tongue. For the first time, she noticed Cara’s bloodshot eyes and dilated pupils.
“What do you have to say, Your Highness? We’re all awaiting your treasured words with baited breath,” Cara said, clasping her hands to her chest.
Gia grabbed Cara’s wrist to look at her arm. “Are you doing drugs?”
Chapter 14
His video call with Gia interrupted the stare down he had been having with his computer. Their conversation was rocky, at best, but it had ended on a tender note. Words didn’t soothe like a hug or simple touch could. And they had to spend a lot of words on calming each other down over the past few months.
If he never had to do long distance again, it would be too soon.
His arms ached for Gia to be in them, to soothe the paranoia and fatigue that haunted him at the moment.
After he dropped into bed that night, his phone pinged.
You coming to Mom & Dad’s for the Christmas brunch in the AM? Avri texted.
Xander muttered a colorful word into the darkness. This weekend kept getting better. Mom had invited him weeks ago to their annual Christmas brunch that they held for their neighbors and coworkers. A twenty-seven-year tradition that—of course—hadn’t stopped because he was in prison. Instead of giving gifts to friends, Xander’s parents threw a party to feed the families of the people they felt obligated to invite.
To be fair, a small portion of the attendees were obligatory. The rest had been invited because they ranked high on his parents’ list of people who mattered. That he had been reinvited this year, his first Christmas outside, had Xander cautiously optimistic that he was no longer a dark stain on his parents’ crisp, white reputation.
Yep. See you at 10:30.
The anxiety of showing up at his parents’ tomorrow paled in comparison to what it was he was supposed to be handing over to criminal organizations. Still no word from his anonymous note sender. The thought made him very angry.
In the morning after a fitful sleep, he dressed in a collared shirt and his dark wash jeans. As kids, his parents had always insisted they wear khakis and a collared shirt to this occasion, so undoubtedly that would be what his parents still expected. But he wasn’t that same kid who complied with ridiculous external rules in order to please his parents anymore.
He wasn’t out to smear it in their faces, but their opinions had no bearing in his life anymore. If he was going to be at an uncomfortable party, he was definitely going to be dressed how he wanted to be. On his way to their house, Xander stopped by the store to grab gift bags for the gifts he’d made each family member.
Parked on the street, he stuffed things in the bags. It felt strange to be sitting here, in front of his parents’ house for the holidays. He had a lifetime of December memories at this house that were nice, that made this “home for the holidays.” Yet five years away and relational distance had transformed him into a visitor, lucky to have an invite to the party.
A knock on his window had him scrambling halfway across the car. Avri’s laughing face flashed by as she bent in laughter at scaring him.
If she only knew…
“Yeah, yeah. Very funny,” he muttered as he opened his door, dragging his gift bags with him.
When she’d wiped away the tears of laughter, she pulled him into a hug. “I thought you might want someone to walk in with, especially since there are probably a ton of people there you don’t know.”
How’d he get so lucky with a sister like her? He held her gift out to her. “Here. No use in me taking it in. Merry Christmas.”
Avri pushed her glasses up her nose as her eyebrows raised. “What’s this? Giving gifts out early?” She took her bag and then stopped with a gasp. “Does this mean you aren’t coming Christmas Day?”
Well, that came up a lot faster than he’d hoped it would. Hands stuffed in his pockets, he accompanied her to her car which was parked a few cars down from his. “I hadn’t decided yet. Thought I’d bring gifts today to be safe.”
Stopping at her driver’s side door, her hand dove into the gift bag. His skills with the tissue paper seriously lacked because it took no time for Avri to extract her three custom cutting boards tied together with a shiny ribbon.
The bag dropped to the ground as her fingers ran over the smooth, stained surface. “Wow,” she breathed. “Did you make these yourself?” When she flipped them over, his initials were burned into the back. “These are gorgeous. Thank you.”
She set them in her car and hugged him again so tightly he couldn’t breathe. But it was perfectly Avri. A string of shrug-offs came to mind about how he didn’t know what girls her age liked or that it’d been a long time since he knew what to get anyone as a gift.
Her delight silenced his negativity. “You’re welcome.”
“Let’s go get some of Mom’s southwest breakfast skillet before the rest of the crowd gets here.” She tucked her arm under his and ushered him safely into the dining room where the feast of a hundred colors and as many flavors crowded the table top.
None of the faces he’d spotted were familiar. The din of talking and laughter was still relatively low since they had arrived ten minutes early. Avri left him in charge of getting her a drink while she went to the restroom.
When she returned, they wandered into the kitchen together. Mom glanced up from plating little egg tarts, fresh from the oven. She yanked off her oven mitt and glided toward them with open arms.
“Merry Christmas, Avri and Alex. I mean, Xander.” She wrapped Avri in a hug and kissed her cheeks, then did the same with Xander. Her familiar perfume stole the tension from his chest. Her slight frame felt so delicate in his arms.
“Merry Christmas, Mom. It’s so good to see you.” He inspected her face, graced with a few more fine lines he hadn’t noticed last time he saw her a few months ago. “I put gifts under the back of the tree, but they aren’t labeled.”
Her pencil-darkened eyebrows drew together. “I hope you didn’t spend much. You need to save your money for groceries and necessities.”
He’d used his office resources to make his family’s gifts this year. It didn’t seem enough, but with how slow sales were, it was the best he could do. “It’s been a few years since I’ve been able to have a gift for you under that tree, Mom. It’s a pleasure.”
Her eyes instantly watered in that way only moms’ eyes can, then blinked the tears furiously away. “You two get out of here while I finish putting f
ood out. Go eat your fill.”
She shooed them out. Maybe Mom had gotten more lowkey over the years, but from the looks of the presentation, she had buckled down to make the appearing feast look effortless. But she couldn’t fool her kids who’d been forced to help every year to pull it all off.
Dad certainly hadn’t ever done more than carry a dish or two when asked by his frantic hostess wife.
Xander sipped his punch. Where was Dad?
Avri politely made introductions as they conversed their way towards the basement stairs where as kids they’d hid away from the stuffy adult conversation and the pretentious laughter of their parents.
They’d almost made it when the back door slammed, closing Linc and Dad into the hallway. Dad made a sharp gesture as he whispered into Linc’s ear. Neither really seemed happy.
Linc nodded hello to some people nearby as he wiped his boots on the door rug. Dad started into his presidential routine of shaking hands and welcoming the crowd. He could turn it on, on a dime.
Everything inside Xander wanted to slink away lest Dad see him and his smile evaporate.
Linc’s eyes scanned the rooms. A huge smile took over his dopey face when his gaze landed on Avri and Xander right outside the basement door. He motioned toward the food and then nodded back at them.
He’d meet them in the basement with his plate of food.
Loud and clear.
Avri and Xander laughed as they cleared the stairs. In their twenties and still stealing away from the crowd—some things didn’t need to change.
“You guys been hiding in the basement every year in my absence?” Xander said, sinking onto the couch.
Avri shook her head. “With just the two of us, it was harder to hide from Mom and Dad. They liked to have us around as buffers to talk about our exciting lives.” She rolled her eyes and scrolled through the TV menu in search of a good movie to watch.
His snort shook his chest. “Might have been to avoid the more unpleasant topics like their suffering mental health and the greatest shame of their eldest son in prison.” Did other people talk about their family member in prison ever? Probably, if they actually cared about him.