by Sera Taíno
Philip made to speak, but Étienne put up a hand to stem his protests. “Listen, okay? You don’t have the experience of being at the mercy of forces that neither see, understand, nor care about you. Like being in the hands of an angry Loa. Or buried alive by an earthquake.”
Philip was flooded with both admiration and shame. Étienne had experienced total powerlessness when the Great Earthquake forced his family to flee Haiti, overturning his life. “I don’t know what it’s like. But you do. It must have been terrible.”
“Yes, it was. It is difficult to forget,” Étienne pitched an imaginary ball into the air to practice his serve. He was graceful and elegant, the powerful muscles of his body stretching up to maximize the motion. “It conditions everything you do.”
Philip rubbed his chin, his mind whirling away. “I don’t need to have experienced it to imagine how hard it must be.”
Étienne placed a gentle hand on Philip’s shoulder. “And because I know you, I know this to be true, as well. But I repeat, she does not. And she has a very legitimate fear, given what’s been happening in East Ward lately.”
“That’s Dad being...Dad. You know how pigheaded he can be. We don’t even have a community liaison in-house. He just thought he was going to go into East Ward, bulldoze over everything and create it anew in his image.”
“Papa Andreas says, ‘Let there be light.’” Étienne’s laugh was a sober one. He had experienced the phenomenon that was Andreas Wagner many times in their years of friendship.
“She invited me to tour her neighborhood with her.”
Étienne froze in his movements. “Really?” He straightened. “But you just said—”
“She called me, trying to figure out what I was up to and the conversation led to that.”
Étienne resumed bouncing a ball on his racket. “Clever Val. It makes sense. But what are your intentions?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not doing all this just to get with her?”
“No, it’s not only for her.” Philip tossed the tennis ball from one hand to the other. “I don’t like feeling this way.”
“What way?”
“Like I’m not...worthy. Like what I do is so intrinsically damaging that a person with even half a conscience doesn’t want anything to do with me because of it. I don’t want to be that person.”
“You’re not that kind of person.”
“Aren’t I, though? For the first time, possibly ever, I’ve finally met someone who is not only intelligent and fun to be with, but principled and decent, as well. The whole package. And that person doesn’t want anything to do with me because I am an active danger to everything that matters to her. And not just to her. There were more than a hundred people at that protest. To them, I am that kind of person. My company is that kind of company.”
“What’s your plan? Are you going to take on your father?” Étienne asked.
“He didn’t want to meet with the protesters but I did. I pushed and he gave in. He knows as well as I do that Wagner Developments is going to be mine someday. It’s time I act like it.”
Étienne tapped his chin thoughtfully, observing Philip. “No more hiding behind your fancy designs? It’s all very Henry V, you know? Boy prince who reluctantly embraces his throne.”
“I’ve never been reluctant about my work.”
Étienne shrugged. “I happen to know that, if you truly wished it, you could do anything you want with that company. Your father might resist you every step of the way, but he would not deny you, if only because you are his heir. You love your designs, it is true, but you use them to shield you from the more unpleasant parts of your work, like facing community complaints.”
That hit its mark. Étienne was right, but telling him so would make him unbearable. Philip laughed instead. “Maybe. Except Prince Hal is much more debauched than I’ve ever been.”
Étienne accepted the feint. “I agree with you, Frater. You are quite boring.”
“Just for that, I’m going to wipe the court with you.”
Étienne laughed his full-hearted laugh as he took up his position. “Always the same last words. At least no one can say you don’t have practice losing.”
Philip responded to Étienne’s serve, dwelling on what his friend had said. He wanted to spend time with Val, get to know her, wherever that led. But he wanted more than just to have her. He wanted to earn Val’s respect, for her sake, but also for his own.
Chapter Thirteen
Philip wiped his sweaty palms against the leg of his jeans. Val had asked him to stop by at 6:30. Now he was here, at 6:21, sitting outside her building and channeling his inner stalker. With restaurant lights switched off, the darkness of the shop became a forbidding presence staring back at him.
“I can wait,” he murmured, trying not to stare at his phone, all the while staring at his phone as the longest nine minutes of his life ticked by. Waiting finally got the best of him at 6:27 and he found himself crossing the street.
He was brought up short by a man who stood before the closed door, the sound of the buzzer indicating he was being let in. He was tall and muscular, with auburn hair that fell in long waves over his collar. Philip took the opportunity to slip in behind him.
When the man turned to glance at him, Philip pretended to stand at the mailbox, checking for letters. Luckily, the man lost interest, and, as nonchalantly as possible, Philip waited until he was a flight ahead of him before taking to the stairs. He expected the man to continue past Val’s floor, so it was a surprise when he came to a halt before her door instead.
Philip slowed his steps. The man ran his fingers through his hair before knocking on the door. Philip’s heart skipped when it opened and Val appeared on the threshold.
“I was expecting somebody else. What do you want?” she said in a voice Philip had never heard her use before. She was as beautiful as always with her curls pushed back under her bandanna. She wore her stained red shirt with the white lettering of Navarro’s Family Restaurant printed across the front and faded blue jeans with tears above the knees. She also sported a scowl that could melt the paint off the walls.
The man cocked his head to one side, and though Philip couldn’t see him, he imagined his eyes raking over Val. Philip repressed the urge to march up the remaining stairs and toss him over the railing, but kept his place instead. The man’s voice dripped with sweetness. “Don’t be like that, baby.”
Baby? The impulse he’d held in check morphed into something hateful. He clutched the banister but waited. This was Val’s business, not his, and he needed to let her sort it out.
“Be like what? Why are you here?” she retorted.
“I was in the neighborhood and wanted to see you.”
Val rolled her eyes before settling her glare on him again. “You saw me. Now you can go.”
“Just hear me out. I want to clear up a few things.” He stepped closer, too close. Val scowled more fiercely, lifting her chin in defiance. Philip admired her courage, but she didn’t stand a chance against someone that size. Hell, he might not stand a chance against someone that size.
“Now? After eight months? Now you want to drop in for a little visit and say hello?”
Was this the infamous Luke?
“I think I and everyone else in Aguardiente have heard enough from you,” she continued. “You told the world you were playing with me, that I was just a little side adventure and that the real party was the lady you were living with the entire time you were with me. I don’t need to see you or hear another word from you.”
“Can’t we take this inside?” He was now almost nose to nose with her, so close, she had to lean back to keep him out of her personal space. Philip took the last few steps two at a time until he was next to Luke.
“Hey, sorry I’m late, sweetheart. Traffic was insane.” He left a quick peck on Val�
�s cheek. Her wide eyes and surprised expression were the answer to his own maniacal smile. He turned toward Luke and stuck his hand out. “I’m Philip. Nice to meet you.”
Luke slowly shook his hand. He was shorter than Philip, but his physical presence was solid.
“Luke,” he said, his voice a low baritone that promised dangerous things.
Philip shook the man’s hand with a strong grip, holding it a beat longer than was polite. He remembered his father’s lesson on handshakes—be the first, shake the hardest, hold the longest. It was the polite equivalent of peeing on a tree to mark your territory but it had served Philip well in life. When he let Luke’s hand go, he watched the man flex his fingers.
Having made his silent point, Philip turned away as if Luke no longer existed and handed Val the flowers. “Ready to go out?”
A smile hovered at the edge of Val’s lips, though her face remained stern. “Yeah. I just need a few minutes to clean up.” Her happy eyes and the softening of her features were a sharp contrast to the bulldog face she’d pulled on Luke only a few minutes earlier.
Take that, you jerk.
She turned back to Luke. “I have plans tonight. Don’t come by again without calling first.”
She took Philip by the hand and tugged him inside. He was aware that he was allowing himself to be used, but her touch brought back their moment on the boardwalk before everything had gone to hell. It seemed like a hundred years ago, and he was hungry for any crumb that Val flung his way.
Graciously, Luke tipped his head. “I get it. I’m too late.” Philip gave him his most bored expression. Luke’s discomfort was so palpable, Philip almost felt sorry for him.
Val lifted her chin again and nodded once. Luke waved at Philip before turning around, descending the stairs with a speed that belied his bulk. Val leaned against the doorjamb and took a long, noisy breath. She gave Philip a searching look, as if she was debating whether to throw him out as soon as she gathered her strength again.
Instead, she stepped aside, sweeping a hand in the direction of the living room. “Sorry you had to see that. Come in.”
Philip didn’t hesitate. He entered, inhaling her smell—cooking spices, coconut, perhaps from her conditioner, and an undertone of something feminine and musky, the delicious aroma that belonged only to Val.
She shut the door before following him to her living room. “Can I get you something to drink?”
Her voice didn’t possess its usual warm timbre and he missed that. He realized he was staring at her and tore his eyes away.
“Don’t trouble yourself.”
“Well, I’m thirsty so have a seat.” She turned and slipped into the small kitchen, and he heard the sound of a refrigerator opening. Philip was too excited to sit so he took in the apartment instead. Like the restaurant, it was small but cozy. A rust-red sofa with giant, perfectly arranged pillows took up most of the space. The walls were painted in soothing beige tones except for a cappuccino-colored accent featuring built-in shelves stuffed with Star Wars novels.
Val took a seat on the sofa, fixing her eyes on him. A mask had fallen over her features, the flicker of friendliness buried deep where he could not reach it. He wondered if it was because of the scene with Luke he’d just witnessed. She was a proud woman and probably didn’t appreciate being confronted by an ex on her doorstep.
Philip took a seat next to her. Her face twisted, and he realized she was biting the inside of her cheek.
“I had Luke all under control.”
“I know. You’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. I just wanted to make myself useful.”
Val chuckled. “Well, if you have to hang around.”
“Of course. I have your back whenever you need it.”
Val’s smile evaporated. “Do you really have my back? Because right now, I can’t help but feel like we are working at cross-purposes.”
“I don’t want to be at cross-purposes with you.” He moved closer to her, close enough to touch, but he would not be the one to cross that gap first. She’d been clear about her boundaries, and he would respect them. “Listen, while I’m here, I just want to reiterate how sorry I am for hiding the truth about who I am from you.”
“You probably wouldn’t have gotten very far if I had known.”
His heart hammered in his chest at the thought of how his lie had spiraled out of control. “I just wanted to be judged as myself, not as the son of Andreas Wagner. I didn’t go about it the right way. But I’m not my father’s company.”
“What makes you so different? It’s your company that’s disrupting the community I live in. Why exactly should I trust you?”
“I’m the first to admit, we’re botching the community aspect of this project. But—” he inched closer, so close, a breath separated them, but still he didn’t touch her “—I don’t support people losing their homes. That’s not who I am.”
Val sighed. “The best thing would be for you guys to go away, but that’s not realistic, is it?”
It felt like she’d kicked him. “Do you want me to leave?”
She frowned. “No. I’m the one who invited you. I only meant it’d be great if your company wasn’t here. In our backyard.” She dropped her eyes, toying with a loose thread on the seam of the seat pillow. Philip waited. Everything between them was so fragile, so uncertain, that if he pushed too hard, things would fall apart.
“Okay,” she said at length. “We have a little daylight left. I’ll get changed and take you on a tour of my neighborhood.”
Philip nodded, watching her disappear down a hallway. He rubbed a spot in the middle of his chest where his heart was beating in some uneven rhythm. Val hadn’t given Luke the time of day. But she was giving Philip not only a chance to show up, but to also demonstrate that he was worth trusting. He wasn’t going to waste that chance.
He perused the titles on her bookshelf, admiring her obvious commitment to collecting every novel in each series. He was examining the dust jacket of a hardback when she returned. She’d tied back her curls in a sleek ponytail, the edges damp, most likely from a quick shower. She wore a pair of dark blue jeans with a rainbow-colored V-neck T-shirt that accentuated the earthy undertone of her skin and matched her kicks. He filed that tidbit in the back of his mind. Colors. Val liked colors and should always be surrounded by the ones that were as vibrant as her personality.
“If we hurry, we can get piraguas before Doña Livia closes her cart.”
“Shaved ice? That sounds almost like a social encounter.”
She pulled a face, which he had to admit, he found irresistibly adorable—nose and lips twisted up as if she’d smelled something decomposing. “I’m just being a good host, that’s all.”
Chapter Fourteen
They walked along the sidewalk in the waning early evening light. It had been surreal—Philip’s appearance on the landing behind Luke, like a spirit she hadn’t stopped conjuring since the night she’d walked away from him. She hated the dishonesty, hated what he did and, in the abstract, who he was. But she didn’t hate him—hate was the farthest thing from her mind when she thought of Philip.
She focused on the task at hand. This was her neighborhood. Her home. He had already shown himself willing to cooperate. This could only help cement his commitment to cooperation. That was the only reason she’d invited him to tour her community with her.
The golden light bathed them in the warmth of possibilities. It was like when her father held her hand. It gave her the strength to believe things would turn out okay.
It was strange to see her own neighborhood from Philip’s perspective. There were more than a few eyesores—the abandoned warehouses along the waterfront. Broken concrete overgrown with dandelions and grass that had once been a parking lot. Deformed fences with holes cut out of them or gaps along the edge bent by people trying to get through them instead of over o
r around them. The dried fountain that looked airbrushed in verdigris at the center of the park that separated East Ward’s more well-cared-for blocks from the waterfront.
“The pencil factory you bought also used to make graphite stove polish and fast-color dyes, developed an early form of photolithography and even produced steel,” Val said, pointing down the road toward the waterfront, where giant mechanical cranes stretched high over the brick buildings that composed the complex. “Because of that, there was a whole network of businesses and activities that webbed out from there. Those buildings still stand today as apartment buildings and commercial space...” She slid her gaze over to him and caught his expression. “What?”
“Nothing. I didn’t know that. But you know, I’d really like to know more about your personal history. The things in the neighborhood that matter to you.”
Val gawked at him. “My history? Why?”
Philip kicked at a loose rock, and Val watched it sail into a tuft of green wildflowers blooming out of the pavement. “Because this is your home. It’s going to look different to you than it will to me or anyone coming from outside. I can tell you the property value of every single building on this street. And I do know my history. For example, in the 1800s, the Victoria was a respectable hotel that catered to merchants with a bit more money than your average seamen.”
Val glanced up at the building again, imagining what life from another time might look like through those now-decrepit windows. “I wasn’t aware of that.”
Philip nodded, and his gold hair seemed to catch the embers of sunlight that illuminated the sky. “There was a thriving fishing community here in the late 1800s.”
“I imagine the bay area was once clean enough to fish,” Val said.
“These days, everyone wants to get close to the water, but in those times, the smell of dead fish on the docks was overpowering. People preferred to take lodgings a small distance away rather than stay in the taverns near the water. The Victoria evolved from a hotel to a collection of apartments for rent when the economics of the area changed. The building itself has been here longer than this city has been incorporated.”