Burned Hearts (24 page)

Because Dane liked my dad so much, he would be as furious as I was that she'd go to this extreme.

Worse, Dane would wig because he'd done a damn good job of taking care of the problem initially. Until my mother thought he was dead—that was when she'd come back at Dad and me hard, because she didn't have Dane to worry about.

He was foreboding; Dad and I were not.

“Fuck,” I mumbled under my breath. I shot a look toward Kyle and mouthed,
My mother.

He went a little pale. Not at the thought that she was some monstrous creature to fear—though I was actually beginning to think that might be the case—but because he obviously had pieced together the fact that enough was enough as far as Dane was concerned. And this discussion wasn't going to be a pretty one.

I didn't disagree with that sentiment. But I wasn't quite sure what Dane's breaking point with my own parent might entail.

Even beyond that was the concern that
my
breaking point might be even more tenuous. He could at least tolerate her. Yes, I knew he'd love to bestow upon her that ultimate
if you ever make my wife cry again …
threat, but he curbed his aggression for my sake.

However, as it related to my feelings on the subject, after that visit from my dad—when he had yet again been put in that humiliating place where he had no idea who was going to find out how many men his wife had slept with while married to him and he was about to be thrust into the turmoil it had taken decades to escape—I wasn't sure I could approach this ongoing issue with a cool head.

A huge part of me wanted to tell Dane to deal with it in the most absolute terms.

Conversely, I didn't want to know what those terms might be.

Not that he'd physically harm my mother. That was a given. But he definitely had menacing down to a science, and it was possible she'd check into her own witness protection for fear of him.

Hmm.
Unlike the first ominous thought that had jumped out at me, this facetious one held great appeal.

Which was why I loathed being in this position. I shouldn't have such thoughts when it came to my own mother.

“Are you coming with me or not?” Dane asked in a curious tone as I hedged while debating over this latest predicament.

“Sure.” I glanced at Kyle. “Assuming you don't need me for dinner?”

He smirked.

“That's what I thought.” I followed Dane through the oversized doorway.

We traveled down the hallway, took a few twists and turns, my stomach plummeting as we navigated the large house. I knew where we headed before we even entered the cavernous office.

Okay … not about my mother at all.

“So what happened here?” he asked. It was the first time he'd gotten a good look at the room since returning.

Trying to cover jangled nerves, I crossed my arms over my chest and said, “You did tell me to make myself at home when I first moved in.”

He gave me a sardonic look. “Sure, that's absolutely what I want. But what's with all the holes in the walls?”

“Right. Those. Lots of holes.” I spied the entire left side of the office that was dotted with pockmarks. Then my gaze landed on the huge sweeping words I'd scrawled in black marker to the far right. “I was doing some visualization that required a few pinups. Also, I'm not really crazy about this color on the walls. You wouldn't mind if I changed it?”

“You know I don't care about any of that,” he said. “I was just wondering what happened.” He still eyed the left side, not even addressing my collage/web to the right.

I stared at the blank space where I'd tacked all of the photos for the nursery and for the Lux. I'd taken both sets down. Since he didn't know anything about what I hoped to accomplish with the hotel, I didn't bother mentioning those depictions. I wanted to surprise him when the time was right.

Things were going smoothly on-site, and I was already at the stage of contacting key personnel previously employed at the Lux who could help me with the whole start-up process of hiring staff and getting word out about us taking memberships.

Since there was a database full of international VIPs who'd clamored to purchase the exclusive rights to stay and play at 10,000 Lux when Dane had initially constructed the resort, we had a lengthy list of former members we'd returned money to, who'd never gotten the chance to enjoy the property. We could reach out to them privately, and I suspected they would be even more zealous about signing up.

The drama surrounding the Lux was one of our hottest marketing angles. Above the exclusivity aspect that had originally drawn in celebrities, dignitaries, tycoons, and the like, people loved owning a piece of history and legend—especially Vegas-style legend.

I wouldn't be surprised if we sold out of memberships at a world-record rate. Despite the exorbitant cost to have the privilege to rent a suite or casita there. Host a wedding or special function. Be invited to attend an over-the-top Lux-sponsored event.

Really, I could hardly wait to jump back into the role of Event Director and bring the place to life with the absolute best of the best parties.

But that was still a ways off. I didn't want to get ahead of myself. So I focused on the topic at hand, saying, “I needed to get a good visual for Amsel's room before I ordered anything. I tore out pages from catalogs and magazines and pieced it all together.”

Dane shrugged. “You and your collages.”

“Yes! Exactly.”

He didn't appear the least bit put out or act as though he were on to me when it came to revitalizing the Lux. Honestly, it shocked the hell out of me that Amano hadn't clued him in. I
knew
Amano knew. He was just that way. But perhaps he understood that I wanted to give the Lux back to my husband as a gift. So
mum
was currently the word.

Dane's attention finally shifted to my web. He'd already experienced everything that I'd puzzled together there, so it was really just a matter of taking it all down, tossing the printouts, and redecorating the office in a way that suited us both, since I intended to keep some of the space he'd graciously offered me.

“We should probably discuss color schemes,” I contended. “I was thinking something just a little less severe than pewter and perhaps more cheerful.”

He eyed me speculatively. “When did you become all about cheer?”

“I am a mom, now.”

“And the nursery is certainly zip-a-dee-doo-dah-day,” he said in a dry tone. “
Jungle Book
run amok?”

“It's an African safari theme. Those lions and tigers and bears are supercute.”

“Despite being predators.”

“There are giraffes and elephants, too,” I pointed out. “Gazelles and monkeys. So all good there. I was just going with the—”

“Wait a minute.” Dane's full scan of my wall documentary came to a screeching halt.

“What is it?” I asked, moving alongside him, scanning the layout. Nothing looked out of place. All the dots were sufficiently connected.

He stepped away from me to get a closer look at the puzzle. “Why do you have a picture of my father?”

“What?” I gazed at the wall, confused. “Where?”

“Here.” He ripped a computer printout from a small nail and handed it over.

I said, “That's Ethan at an economics summit in the early eighties. If I recall the year correctly, it was 1983.”

“No,” he said, still staring at the sheet he held. “That's my dad.”

I looked past the visage I'd constantly homed in on when working on my web and suddenly saw the second man in the photo.
Really
saw him. Dark hair, strong jawline, squared shoulders. I couldn't discern his eye color or get a full read on him, since I only saw his profile. But the more I stared, the more I saw the similarity to Dane.

My brows knitted. “That's odd, don't you think? Your dad and Ethan in a photo together?”

Dane examined the picture for endless moments. Then he shook his head. “That can't be Ethan.”

“Dane, that man looks
exactly
like Ethan. Thirty years ago, but still. That's Ethan.”

“Has Amano seen this?”

“He hasn't stopped by in a while. When he used to, he'd leave shaking his head, likely trying to erase from his mind whatever insanity he thought I was up to.”

“This
is
insane.”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Not your montage,” Dane corrected. “It makes total sense. But how is my father in a photograph with Ethan?”

Okay, there was
that
.

I took it from him again and studied the piece of paper. “I was looking at social-political-economic summits around the world, with no real concrete reason or goal in mind. I was just thinking about the story Amano had shared with Kyle about him being a bodyguard for your dad and taking a bullet in the shoulder during one of those global econ conferences. Pretty ironic, in a not-so-nice way. You two have matching holes in your shoulders.”

“A definite similarity I could do without.”

“Agreed,” I muttered. “Anyway, I didn't come across anything of value—that I could tell might be of value, that is. I kept this picture because I was surprised to see Ethan in it. And now that we're talking about this, don't you find it odd that Ethan probably knew your father? Did Ethan ever mention that to you?”

“No.”

“Well, I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for that. Perhaps he just never put two and two together.”

“Perhaps.”

I could tell Dane chewed on this new revelation as we left the office and joined everyone for dinner. I studied him closely while I poured the wine. I got the sense he didn't want there to be one more secret-society nuance to dissect, now that all was finally almost said and done. Evidently, he mulled it over, anyway.

“We're planning a baptism for Kid,” I announced, in hopes some good news would break the tension created by Dane's internal ruminations, Amano's chill factor still directed at me and Kyle, and my feelings of walking a tightrope in my own home. Rosa and Amsel were the only ones currently oblivious to the strained atmosphere, but I surmised that was because it was feeding time and my son was deeply entranced by his bottle.

Kyle said, “I suppose you're going to ask me to wear a suit.”

I smiled. Leave it to him to know exactly when to inject a dose of humor. “As a matter of fact, yes. It'll be a formal affair. Same group as the dinner we had at the Grand Canyon. Though with one addition.”

This piqued both Kyle's and Amano's interest.

“Mikaela,” I said. “Dane agreed she should hear from us that he's alive, before it's broadcast globally. Which really could happen at any time now.”

I hadn't put much thought into how that would drastically change our lives—yet again. One more issue to confront. There would be massive media interest and that might also cast the spotlight on the Lux, prematurely revealing its resurrection.

Damn, I really needed to consult with Amano about all of this, but I wasn't exactly getting the warm and fuzzy vibes from him these days. Not that Amano ever exuded the warm fuzzies, but he definitely wasn't looking to chum it up with me of late.

Kyle asked, “Do you think Mikaela can keep all your secrets?”

A legitimate question—I'd mentally posed it myself.

“I trust her,” Dane said. “It'll be a leak related to the trials that outs me. I need to be ready when that happens. Tying up loose ends ahead of time will be helpful.”

“When's the party?” Rosa chimed in, already knowing we'd make an event out of the baptism. With her help.

I spared a glance toward Dane. “Saturday night?” Just a few days away, but between Rosa and me, we could nail down all the arrangements.

“If that's what you want,” Dane said, his prominent features softening.

My stomach fluttered. “That's what I want.”

He grinned.

The backs of my eyes prickled, but I blinked away actual tears. This whole new family scenario stirred a lot of emotions, but I tried to remain collected. I'd had enough of the drama and the freak-outs.

“Seven o'clock,” I told everyone. “We'll have a cocktail reception, then the ceremony, then dinner.”

I could see Rosa begin to make checklists in her head, the way I did for every festivity. She'd demonstrated on numerous occasions her ability to match my event-planning style and we complemented each other nicely. I was thrilled to have something celebratory to work with her on.

No more gloom and doom.

It would be a fun evening. Lots of champagne. Lots of food. Lots of laughter.

Precisely what this house needed.

 

chapter 13

On Saturday morning, Amano and Kyle picked up the elaborate arrangements I'd ordered from the florist I'd frequently worked with on weddings. I placed them, along with dozens of candles, throughout the foyer and the great room. The floor-to-ceiling glass doors were opened to let in the fresh, rain-scented air. I added soft background music as Rosa stocked the wet bar and then nestled bottles of champagne in the strategically placed standing chillers throughout the large space.

We set up several hors d'oeuvres stations with fancy finger foods on silver platters and a seafood tower. The tasks occupied my mind and kept my anxiety at bay over seeing Mikaela. I'd called her to invite her to the reception, leaving the actual occasion vague. A get-together I thought she might be interested in attending was all I'd said. She'd been surprised when I'd given the creek house address and gate code, so I'd briefly mentioned Rosa's involvement and that seemed to appease Mikaela's curiosity.

I couldn't drop Amano's name, of course. He was supposed to be dead as well. This was all tricky and delicate—like every other part of my life with Dane. But he'd agreed that including Mikaela in the circle of trust was the right thing to do. If Kyle had been presumed dead I'd want to know if he was really alive.