by Jade Astor
He tried to get up quietly, but Argo’s eyes snapped open.
“I’ll be right out,” he mumbled.
Rikki was already up and gone, Ange informed Darian when he joined her at the kitchen table. They made casual conversation about other things while they waited for Argo. Darian pretended not to notice the hollow way his mom spoke as she stared into a half-empty cup of coffee.
“What are you boys planning to do today?” she asked when Argo finally arrived for breakfast. “I need to swing by my office and pick up one last batch of student papers, along with some books for next semester. Hate to work while you’re visiting, but it’ll be worse if I leave it all until the last minute.”
Darian knew what that meant. When she was upset, she often retreated into her academic work.
“No worries. Argo and I were planning to go out anyway. I want to show him around town and run some errands.”
“You don’t mind? No, of course you don’t. You’ll want to spend some time together without your mom tagging along. Why don’t you two drop me off at school and take the car? Enjoy yourselves. You can pick me up after lunch, which I can grab on campus.”
“Thanks,” Darian said, feeling guilty.
“We can start Argo’s official tour by showing him the campus, if he’s interested.”
“Sure I am,” Argo said with apparent sincerity, which prompted Darian to squeeze his hand under the table.
His mom paused and rubbed her forehead. “I’m sorry this trip isn’t turning out so great for you, Darian. How about this? When you get back, we’ll put up the Christmas decorations.”
“When Rikki gets home, you mean.”
“Not necessarily.” Ange’s voice remained flat.
An hour later, they pulled into the faculty lot beside the building that housed the college’s Women’s Studies department, among others. With the holiday break underway, the sidewalks and hallways were almost deserted as they made their way to Ange’s office. As they walked, they came across only one person heading in the opposite direction with an armful of student essays. And it was someone Darian recognized right away.
Iris Larsen, Professor of Psychology, had been a colleague of his mother’s since their arrival on campus some twenty years earlier. Her husband, Bodie, was a prominent faculty member of the history department, and their daughter, Zara, had gone through public school with Darian. He recalled his moms mentioning that Zara also now worked for Rikki and Gabrielle at the hotel.
“You must be so happy to have Darian back for a few days,” Iris told Ange. “You look a little stressed out, though. Is everything okay?”
“Oh, the usual holiday drama.” Ange made a sweeping motion with one hand.
“Plenty of that to go around,” Iris agreed. “Zara and Bodie are close to driving me mad. Zara’s always at work, and Bodie wants to do family things. She’s not a child anymore, I keep telling him. She has her own life to lead. He doesn’t want to hear it.”
Darian saw his mother stiffen at the indirect mention of Gabrielle Duval. He winced inwardly. Apparently, this mysterious person had a lot to answer for even outside of his own family.
“Anyway,” Iris continued, no doubt sensing the sudden onset of tension, “I’m glad I ran into all of you. Come on down to the office. Bodie and I just picked up a box of pastries, and I’ll only eat too many of them if you don’t take some off my hands. I have those cherry Danishes you used to scarf down as a kid, Darian. Besides, Bodie will want to say hello in person.”
Ange didn’t object, so the group moved on to the two corner offices Iris and Bodie occupied. Darian wondered, not for the first time, how they managed both living together and working in close proximity, but somehow they did. They seemed as close today as they had when he’d first met them so many years ago. The contrast with Ange and Rikki’s difficulties stung.
He focused his attention on introducing Argo to Bodie, who looked fit and cheerful despite the receding gray hair on his wide forehead, and enjoying the berry-filled pastry Iris handed over.
“Bodie and I can’t believe you’ve stuck out the cold weather this long,” she said. “You should come back to teach around here, Darian. Why trudge to class in snow boots and a parka? There’s a lot to be said for being able to write your lesson plans at the beach and grade papers in your bathing suit.”
“It’s okay. I like what I do.” Darian flashed Argo an apologetic smile. Despite the upheavals of his first semester at Birchwood Academy, he was looking forward to celebrating New Year’s Eve with Argo when they got back home. Secretly, he was hoping a crisp white snowfall would trap them inside for several days in a row.
“Zara often asks about you,” Bodie said, wiping his hands on a paper napkin emblazoned with the name of the bakery Darian remembered so well.
“How is she? I’d like to see her while I’m here. She should meet Argo.” Darian chose his words with the intent of sending a subtle message. During his high school days, Bodie and Iris made it clear they would have welcomed him dating Zara. Though he assumed his moms had told them about his relationship with Argo, he saw no harm in reminding them that anything more than friendship was impossible. Besides, he did think fondly of Zara, and introducing Argo to people he knew gave him a little thrill.
“Not a problem at all,” Bodie said, cheerfully enough that Darian breathed a sigh of relief. “Zara works at the hotel with Rikki and Gabrielle, so we’re all coming to the holiday party. I assume we’ll see you there.”
“Does everyone in this town work for this woman?” Argo asked.
“I certainly don’t,” Ange said. “If I did have a desire for a part-time job, I sure wouldn’t apply at Mermaid Towers.”
“The party’s going to be wonderful.” Iris quickly covered an awkward pause. “Zara talks of nothing else. They’re hiring professional entertainment, too. Pulling out all the stops.”
“That must be why Rikki always uses her computer in secrecy. She doesn’t want to spoil the surprise.” This time, Ange made no effort to disguise her bitterness.
“Could be,” Iris said. Suddenly nervous, she grabbed a second Danish despite her earlier vow not to overindulge in them. “Well, they’re all very busy, that’s for sure. Zara has leaked a few details to us, but Gabi—I mean, Gabrielle—is probably trying to keep some of her plans under wraps. Competitors and all.”
Seeming not to notice the sudden tension in the room, Bodie helped himself to the last pastry and bit into it with a murmur of appreciation. Ange took the opportunity to make their excuses, since she needed to go to her office and Darian and Argo were eager to start their vacation activities. On their way to the stairwell, she fished through her shoulder bag for the car keys.
“I’ll meet you right by the front entrance at one,” she instructed. “Here are some extra quarters for the meters downtown. Be sure you keep track of the time. Those damn cops are absolute vultures this time of ye—” Seeing Argo’s expression, she stopped and blushed. “I mean, parking is pretty tight this time of year, so they’re enforcing the regulations with more enthusiasm than normal.”
“No worries,” Argo said, biting back a laugh. “It’s been a long time since I worked as a meter reader, but I have an excellent sense of time. I’ll make sure Darian doesn’t run up any tickets.”
They were about to head downstairs when the thick metal door swung open and a tall, almost painfully thin old man in a green plaid suit and a bright red bow tie emerged. Stopping short, he gazed around in apparent bewilderment, like a science fiction character who had stepped through a portal into some unknown land.
Without missing a beat, Ange shifted into control. “Oh, Maurice,” she soothed, taking his wrinkled hand in greeting. “How nice to run into you. You remember my son, Darian?”
The old man leaned forward, squinted at Darian’s face, and made a visible effort to recognize him. Soon he relaxed and shook Darian’s hand. Ange introduced him to Argo as Maurice Turnbull, the retired chair of the Sociology Department.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” Ange said, speaking slowly and deliberately before Maurice’s attention could wander. “I thought you’d be home, enjoying your retirement.”
For a moment, Maurice’s faded eyes seemed to darken with focus. “Oh, you know how it is, Angela. The pursuit of knowledge doesn’t stop because the holidays are upon us. Must pick up some research I left on my desk. New article coming out in the spring, with any luck. Need to step on the gas before classes start up again. What better time to write than while the students are away?”
“You didn’t drive yourself here, did you?”
“No. My daughter brought me. She wanted to take a walk around the campus while I stopped up here. Just as well, don’t you think? I couldn’t possibly concentrate on my work while she’s hanging about, fidgeting. Young people today have so little patience. All they want is to get back to that ridiculous Internet of theirs. Present company excluded, of course. Darian’s always been such a cooperative lad.”
“I do my best,” Darian assured him.
Seeming not to hear the response, Maurice turned and toddled off, humming to himself. Ange gave Darian and Argo an apologetic shrug.
“Not quite the same as when you last saw him, is he?” she asked. “Poor Maurice. He’s been teaching here since the first stone was set in the ground. Now he’s failing fast, but we try to make him feel at home. Anyway, you boys go ahead and enjoy yourselves. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Bye, Mom. Don’t work too hard.” After giving Ange a quick kiss on the cheek, Darian accompanied Argo back to the parking lot. “Well, you’re certainly getting a whirlwind tour of my old life,” he said as they climbed into the car. “Not regretting it yet, I hope.”
“Not so far,” Argo said. “And I must say, some of what I’m observing has piqued my investigative instincts. This Zara, for example. Was I imagining the little catch in your voice when you talked about her?”
“You weren’t imagining it. She and I pretty much grew up together. Same age, both of us only children. Iris and Bodie were already working here when my mom joined the faculty, and they accepted all three of us right away, without question. We never took them for granted, believe me. Families like ours weren’t so common back then.”
“I’m sure,” Argo said, nodding with exaggerated gravity. “Tolerance and support are very important. So you and Zara became sort of like brother and sister?”
“Yeah, you could say that.” Darian focused his gaze on the steering wheel as he started the car. “I mean, okay, so there was this one time when I took her to the prom. We only went as friends, I promise you.”
“Sure. Obviously. I imagine everyone was clear about that from the beginning.”
“Well, I was. Zara figured it out fast, too.” Darian steered the car through the lot, which like the building was almost empty. Nonetheless he took extra time maneuvering between the painted lines and easing the tires over a series of speed bumps.
“Before or after she tried in vain to seduce you?” Argo asked, clearly struggling to keep himself from grinning.
“After,” Darian confessed, blushing. “Almost immediately, in fact.”
“Ouch,” Argo said, shaking his head. “Sounds a little awkward.”
“Yeah, it was. More than a little, really.”
“Right there at the prom?”
“Not exactly. It was during the after-party. At my sort-of boyfriend’s house.”
“Ah, I see. Poor Zara.”
“All things considered, she was a good sport about it.” Darian knew if he glanced at Argo, both of them would start laughing uncontrollably. Somehow, he managed to hold out for a full thirty seconds.
Their buoyant mood lasted until they reached the downtown area. Darian found a parking spot near the same display of scuba-diving reindeer that had drawn their attention the day before.
“Don’t forget to feed the meter,” Argo reminded Darian as he parallel-parked. “Your mom will never forgive me—or my fellow guardians of civil order—if we end up with a ticket.”
“As if I’d ever tell her if we did,” Darian said. “There’s a drop box right outside the police station people can use to pay them off on their way home. Don’t ask me how I know.”
A few minutes’ stroll along the sidewalk brought them into the shadow of a tall, glass-fronted building perched on the edge of the beach. From the opposite side of the street, Darian paused to gaze up at it.
“That’s Mermaid Towers,” he told Argo. “The hotel where Rikki works.”
“Quite a place, isn’t?” Argo moved to stand beside him. They drank in the sight of the palm trees framing the circular driveway, the huge curbside urns overflowing with colorful, exotic flowers, and the guests milling around in trendy outfits and designer sunglasses.
“Sure is.” Somewhere behind the gleaming, gilt-handled doors that led to the lobby, Darian knew, were Rikki and the woman who was threatening the continued existence of his family. Were they deep in conversation at that very moment? Were they talking about hotel business? Or about how Rikki had ducked out on him and Ange first thing that morning?
Argo jostled his arm. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s check it out.”
Chapter 3
Entering Mermaid Towers was like slipping into a dazzling hybrid of tropical comfort and North Pole mystique. Wall-sized murals of fish-filled coral reefs extended all the way up to and across the vaulted ceiling, with detail so realistic it gave the impression of standing in an aquarium. Silver and blue garlands edged the wall seams, with potted palm trees guarding each corner. Tasteful strands of tiny white lights encircled their trunks. Most impressive of all was the enormous Christmas tree in the center of the lobby. Its perfectly trimmed branches sparkled with synthetic snow and delicate ornaments depicting everything from reindeer and angels to dolphins and hammerhead sharks. The fragrance of fresh pine mingled with the expensive colognes wafting from the well-heeled tourists drifting through in shorts, golf shirts, and sleeveless dresses. It was, as far as Darian was concerned, the most harmonious blend of the two motifs he’d ever seen.
“They’ve redecorated since the last time I was here,” he commented to Argo, who was also looking around with undisguised admiration.
“You’ve got that right, but this is just the beginning,” a familiar voice said from behind them. “As soon as the snowbird trade dies down, Gabi’s going to remodel the whole place. She’s thinking about turning it into a replica of the Great Lost Palace of Atlantis, though how we’re supposed to know what that looked like is anybody’s guess. I trust her imagination, though.”
He and Argo turned to see a handsome young man in an indigo suit and a flamingo-pink tie beaming at them. The gold nameplate on his lapel confirmed his identity.
“Kyle! It is you, isn’t it?” Darian put out his hand but was engulfed in an enthusiastic hug instead. “This is Kyle Kirk. He and I went to high school together,” he explained to Argo.
“Oh, don’t be modest. We did a lot more than that. Anyway, great to see you!” Kyle gave Argo a blatantly appraising look. “You’re the cop, I assume. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Have you?” Argo asked, sounding anything but surprised. “I don’t suppose I need to ask where.”
“From Rikki, of course.” Kyle winked and tapped his nameplate. “She and I work together pretty closely these days. I do all the social media and web advertising for the hotel.”
“That’s great,” Darian said, hoping his tone didn’t give his wariness away. “So you must be tight with Gabrielle Duval, too?”
“Oh, Gabi. Yeah. Woman’s got it goin’ on, if you know what I mean. If I liked girls and she liked guys, well…safe to say that’s not going to happen. But she’s the best boss I ever had, for sure. When we met and I told her about my idea to get the hotel on the web, we just clicked, so to speak. Ever since, the hotel’s bookings have expanded exponentially.” He mimed typing on a keyboard suspended in mid-air. “It’s all in the
wrists, you know.”
Darian wasn’t sure whether he should congratulate Kyle or roll his eyes. “Sounds terrific,” he said noncommittally.
“Your mom is doing amazing things here, too,” Kyle pattered on. “She’s the steady one. Keeps Gabi grounded when her flights of fancy soar too high. Enough hotel biz, though. Tell me about your new life up north. Brrr. I don’t think I could ever live there. Way too cold. I don’t go to gym twice a day just to hide my curves in snow pants and puffy jackets.”
“You get used to it,” Argo said, his voice flat. “Darian has.”
“I’m sure that’s true. After all, his last name is Winter, so maybe I shouldn’t be shocked. Your moms were, though. They’re still secretly convinced you’ll eventually come back here and settle down.”
“Oh, they discussed that with you?”
“Rikki does, all the time. Neither of us can figure out why you left behind all this nice weather and so many of your loyal friends—like me and Zara, for example. We could all have such a good time if you’d come to work here.”
“Darian’s made new friends.” Argo slid an arm over Darian’s shoulders, which made Kyle smirk.
“No surprise. He’s a charming fellow. Always was. He and I became besties the very first day we met, back in high school. But I’m sure he’s told you all about that—about me.”
“Actually, no. He hasn’t.”
Anxious to change the subject, Darian looked around the lobby for something new to comment on. He found a promising diversion near the check-in desk, where an attractive young woman in a suit similar to Kyle’s was talking to a smartly attired gentleman. The man’s attention seemed totally riveted on her.
“Speaking of Zara, isn’t that her?” he asked Kyle.
“Sure is. I’m surprised you recognized her. She’s lightened her hair color and lost a lot of weight, thanks to our world-class employee fitness center and spa. Gabi insists we all present our best selves at all times for benefit of the hotel’s image. The woman thinks of everything, especially when it comes to her staff.”