“Oh really, and not just yesterday?”
I could listen to them like this forever.
SIX
“Whoever believes that great advancement and new benefits make men forget old injuries is mistaken.”
~ Niccolò Machiavelli
IVY
“Holy shit!” I yelled, clasping my hands over my mouth, turning around to face the team behind me, and all I could say was, “Holy fucking shit!”
“Miracles do exist,” Nari replied, looking me up and down, then reaching into her purse to pull out debt cards and handing them to one of the people. “They go by the names Visa and Express.”
“The swelling really went down.” I leaned into the mirror, kind of scared of myself. It took three days for every single bump and blemish to be lasered away. All the bruises were gone too. I looked…I looked, well, like Nari, not physically but effortlessly beautiful like she said. “My hair bounces!”
“Okay, now you’re being embarrassing,” Nari said, signing the receipts as I ran my hand through my golden hair. I’d never used the word gold for my hair. But after they’d done their magic that was what it looked like, streams of gold sprouting out of my head. I was beautiful…really beautiful.
“Come on, let’s go.”
“Go?” I looked at her, everyone else already leaving.
She nodded, handing me a yellow clutch, which matched the yellow heels I was wearing perfectly. Both were “pops” of colors, added to the long-sleeved gray Carmen Marc Valvo Pleated Scallop Dress I wore. Words I still didn’t understand, but whatever.
“I’m glad you like it. However, right now I’d like to see how everyone else reacts. Come on,” she said, walking to the door.
“Everyone else?”
“People in the hotel. Think of it like a road test while we get brunch,” she said. When I stepped into the hall, the two men who stood guard behind me moved for the first time in three days, or at least I saw them move for the first time, to stand beside us…me…while Nari called for the elevator. It arrived quickly, and the same bellboy stood waiting.
“Good afternoon.” He nodded at us and his eyebrows came together when he looked at me. He stared even as I walked to stand behind him, his gaze meeting mine in the reflection of the elevator doors. Finally, when we neared the ground floor of the elevator he shook his head as if he’d ridded himself of whatever he was thinking.
“Have a good day,” he said when we got off.
“That was good,” Nari replied, standing beside me. “He came to the conclusion there was no possible way you could be the same woman who was brought up three days ago.”
“He was the test?”
“Part one.” She nodded and then looked down the lobby. “This is part two.”
I didn’t know what she meant and followed her toward the hotel restaurant. I was so busy doing my best to match her pace and not twist my ankle that I didn’t pick up on the looks I was getting until she pointed it out.
“When you first came here people stared at you because you didn’t look like you belonged,” she said, and I nodded. “Now the men are staring at you because they’re attracted to you and the women are annoyed you’re stealing their spotlight.”
I glanced around and caught more of those stupid leers guys did when they thought you were interested in them. I didn’t notice the girls because they weren’t looking or looking out of the corner of their eyes. It wasn’t like everyone stopped to stare at me, but there were people who did. Some were even looking at her.
“Welcome, ladies,” the hostess said at the restaurant entrance. “Table for—”
“Two,” Nari replied, and the woman nodded, leading us back through the restaurant until we sat by a glass waterfall.
“Your server will be right with you,” the woman said to us before leaving as we sat.
“Do people not know you own this hotel?” I asked.
She lifted the glass, inspecting it, which should have been a dead giveaway, but then again she could just come off uppity. “We opened this hotel last year. I’m sure they don’t know and it’s better for me to inspect when…”
“What?” I asked when she stopped speaking.
She shook her head. “We aren’t here to talk about me. Congrats, you now look good enough to be seen out with me in public. Now we need to work on your education.”
Oh no. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to have to teach me about salad forks or something.”
“Hardly. Whatever you want to eat your salad with is your choice. This is far more important,” she replied, lifting her hand out, and one of the guards, who were surprisingly easy to forget about, handed her a tablet and me one as well.
“The family,” she said and a family tree appeared on the screen. The first photo of… “My grandmother, Evelyn Callahan.”
Beside the picture was a photo of a handsome young man, maybe in his mid-forties.
“Sedric. My grandfather. He was murdered when Ethan was a baby. None of us knew him, but Evelyn visits his grave every week,” she said with ease.
“She really loved him,” I whispered, seeing all the photos of them together.
“Yea,” she said as if it was nothing and clicked to the next picture of three men. “Sedric and Evelyn had three children. Neal, my father, their first son. I, as I told you, was adopted. And my parents later had a son, whom they named after my grandfather, Sedric. He is currently the starting pitcher for the Chicago Cubs, something my father will brag about to anyone who will listen.”
“He’s so—”
“We’re about to eat. Don’t say hot or cute. I’ll puke,” she said, flipping to the picture of another handsome man with brown eyes.
“This is Declan Callahan. He’s not Sedric and Evelyn’s son, but their nephew. However, they raised him after both his parents were gunned down. He’s married too.” She scrolled to this beautiful dark-skinned woman. “Coraline, they also have one adopted daughter, Helen. She is currently the head of technology at WaveTree and handles all cyber security for the family. Think Tony Stark, without Ironman…and, well, black and female.”
“So ingenious, cocky, and—”
“An infuriation to her co-workers but simultaneously also hard not to love.” She nodded, flipping to the next picture. “Her younger brother is Darcy, the starting point guard with the Chicago Bulls. He and my brother are close, obviously because of their love of sports, but also because they are rivals. Apparently, there can only one number one athlete in the family and city.”
“People must love them.” I grinned, seeing a picture of them running through the city. They were both handsome with their number nine jerseys.
“Exactly,” she said.
I glanced up.