Silence fell over us as our tour guide pulled us up to a spot where we could get off. I helped Nami out of the gondola and she put her arm around my waist, leaning her head against me. I was surprised, but wasn't about to complain. I put my arm around her shoulders and we headed for the
Palácio rosado
.
“It's so beautiful,” Nami said softly as we made our way inside.
She was right. The outside had been impressive enough, but the interior with its ornate high ceilings and breath-taking architecture, was spectacular. The tour guide was talking but I didn't hear a word he said and I didn't think Nami did either. She seemed to be deep in thought and I didn't want to interrupt her. Neither of us spoke through the entire tour, but as we broke off at the end and started to walk about on our own, she broke the silence.
“My family has planned my life out.” She was staring straight ahead and her voice was soft. I almost thought she might be talking to herself rather than me. “I told you that I majored in political science because it was what they wanted, but it's beyond that. I, too, am supposed to take over my family's...business.”
We stood at the Bridge of Sighs, oblivious to everyone else around us. I didn't know what was going on with Nami, but she was clearly dealing with some difficult choices.
“It's been in my family for generations,” she continued. “A legacy passed down to the eldest child, boy or girl, and we're expected to rise to it. We're trained for it from birth.” There was a hint of bitterness in her voice.
“And what if you refuse?” I asked.
“I can't.” She sighed and straightened, pulling away from me. “If my brother had lived, maybe I could have, but he died when he was only a few hours old.”
“I'm so sorry,” I said.
“I don't remember him,” she said absently. “I remember when my mother miscarried though. Twice. How sad everyone was. My parents weren't going to try for another one. Halea was their miracle baby. Four weeks early and so tiny. Even when she finally came home, she was so small I was afraid to hold her.”
I had the sudden, sharp memory of my mother handing me a squalling, red-faced bundle. Rebecca had been a handful from moment one, but I'd loved her then. I supposed I still loved her, but I didn't like her very much. I felt a stab of jealousy for what Nami and her sister had. Her parents might've been similar to mine, but she at least had Halea.
“You see, if I choose to step down from my position, it would go to Halea.” Nami crossed her arms, rubbing them with her hands as we followed a group of people to see the dungeon. “And she couldn't handle it.”
“Does she want it?” I asked. “I know you said she's sixteen, but some people know what they want to do when they're that age.”
Nami shook her head. “It doesn't matter. She doesn't have the strength to do it, to deal with everything.”
I wondered what sort of business the Carrs owned, but I didn't ask. I was getting the distinct impression that she would only offer the personal details she wanted, and nothing more.
“She wants to please people,” Nami continued. “She hates conflict. Always the peacemaker.”
I could see where that would be a problem in the business world. While compromise and negotiation always required a bit of flexibility, someone who always wanted to make peace would certainly get walked all over. To be good at being in charge, a person had to have the right combination of stubbornness and a willingness to consider others' opinions.
“There's no one else,” she said.
I hated the tone of defeat in her voice. A wave of protectiveness washed over me, surprising me. I'd never been protective of anyone. Not really. I considered myself a gentleman and tried to look out for people, but it was never anything like this. I wanted to hold her and tell her that it would all be okay.
“Can't your parents just hire someone? I know it's not ideal for a family business, but surely there's someone who's been loyal enough to be considered family without being blood.”
The smile she gave me said it all. “No, Reed. It has to be me. And I've made my peace with that. More or less, anyway.” She reached over and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly. “That's why this means so much to me. When I go back, it's all responsibility.”
I didn't say anything as I pulled her to my side, tucking her under my arm where she fit so perfectly. I hated this. I hated not being able to help her break free like I had. I hated her parents for making her feel so trapped. And I hated how much I cared. I didn't know this girl. She was supposed to have been a fling, another in a line of hook-ups to help me forget the mess I'd left in Philadelphia and to distract me from the fact that I had no idea what I was doing. But it was more than that already, had been from the moment I'd met her even if I hadn't wanted to admit it then.
I told myself that I needed to stop asking questions, stop trying to figure out a way to help. I couldn't help. All I could do was listen and then let her go when it was time. But as I looked down at her, my heart twisted at the thought of letting her go, never seeing her again.
Dammit. I knew better than to do this, but I couldn't seem to stop myself. I didn't know who she was or what I was feeling, only that it was more than I should. I also knew that no matter what I did, things were going to end badly. For both of us.
Chapter 14
Reed
As afternoon turned into evening, I started getting hungry. With all the craziness that had been going on, I'd forgotten to eat today. I doubted Nami had eaten much either, so I steered us towards a place I'd heard of when I'd been here before. I hadn't eaten there, but it sounded like a good place to take her. I'd heard it had an amazing view of the gondolas. Nice and romantic...
I pushed the thought aside. Romance didn't matter. I wasn't trying to date her. I kept telling myself that as we walked up to Risorrante da Raffaele. Still, I couldn't help but think about what it would be like to take her someplace like this on a real date, as something more than just some girl I'd hooked up with. A girl I was just supposed to be showing a good time.
I could see how things would play out differently if we'd been here as a couple. We would've been planning the trip together, with the restaurant as part of it. I pulled out her chair for her, returning the smile she gave me. After we ordered, I decided to ask the question I'd been wondering for a while now.
“What would you do,” I asked, “if you could do anything? If your family business wasn't a factor. What would you do?”
Nami looked surprised and I understood why. When a person was raised, groomed, to take over the family business, there was never anyone asking what we wanted to do, not seriously anyway. Our opinions, our wants, they didn't matter.
“I haven't given it any thought.”
The reply came automatically. I recognized the sound of something that had been rehearsed, the kind of response a responsible older child was supposed to give when asked that question.
“Yes, you have.” I called her on her lie. “I know you have because I always did.”
She smiled, unapologetic about the deceit. “You did?”
“Of course.” I smiled back. “I did the whole MBA thing and found out I have a knack for it, so my dreams changed, but they weren't always for business.”
“What were they?” she asked. “When you were a child, what were your dreams?”
“If I tell you mine, will you tell me yours?” I teased as the waiter poured us both the wine I'd ordered.
She winked. “You first.”
“All right,” I agreed. I leaned back in my chair. “How far back do you want to go? Preschool?”
“You were ambitious even then?” She seemed amused. “Why does this not surprise me?”
“Oh, nothing so ambitious,” I said. “I once wanted to be a police car. Not a policeman, but a car.”
She laughed, a full, real laugh, not the kind that someone gave to be polite. “You wanted to be a car?”
I shrugged. “I was four. I didn't know that wasn't exactly an option.” I took another swallow of wine. “I figured it out eventually.”
“So did you want to be a police officer then?”
“No.” I shook my head. “When I was older, but before I really understood what it meant for me to take over the family business, I thought I might want to be a lawyer. Not a prosecutor or some sleazy defense attorney. I wanted to go into family law, take care of kids.”
It was funny how I thought of that now. I hadn't thought of it in years, not since I'd gotten into high school and my parents had started telling me what classes to take. Or, as they put it, 'strongly advising' me what would be needed for me to get into business. I'd been surprised that I'd felt protective of Nami, thinking that I hadn't felt that way before, but I had. I'd wanted to help people.
“You're quiet,” Nami said, breaking into my thoughts.
“Just remembering,” I said. “So there you have it. I wanted to be a lawyer and then went to business school.”
“Is that what you will do now?” she asked. “Go to law school?”
I shook my head. “No, I've given that up. I don't think I'd be suited for law anyway. I actually do have a good head for business.”
“So you will go back to your parents' business?” She sounded surprised.
“No.” I leaned back as the waiter brought our appetizers. “I want my own business.” I frowned. “I thought I had a good idea before, but now I'm thinking I might want something else.”
“What?” she asked.
“I have no idea.” I laughed. “None at all.”
We ate for a few moments, enjoying the weather and the city itself. I had to admit, I was definitely enjoying this trip to Venice much more than my previous one. I looked across the table at Nami. There was no denying that it was due to the company.
“You never told me yours,” I said as the waiter cleared away our appetizers and placed our entrees in front of us. “If family wasn't an issue, what would you want to be? What would you do?”
She flushed, piquing my curiosity. Whatever it was, it had to be interesting.
“Now you have to share,” I said.
She pushed some of her food around on her plate and took a bite. I didn't press her again. She'd tell me when she was ready. I could see that she wanted to. After a couple minutes of us eating in silence, she finally spoke.
“I wanted to be a teacher.”
“A teacher?” I was surprised, not because I didn't think she'd be good at it, but because it didn't seem to match her initial reaction.
“And a mother.” She looked down at her plate.
Ah, that made sense now. Well, sort of. “Will your family's business keep you from being a mother?” The question popped out before I thought about it. “Shit. I'm sorry. That's none of my business.”
“It's okay,” she said, her voice quiet. “Let's just say that if I have children, because of my position, I'd most likely see very little of them. They'd be raised by nannies. Governesses.”
“Couldn't your husband take care of them? If you've got such a good position, he wouldn't need to work long hours.” Dammit. I kept putting my foot in my mouth, but I couldn't help it. I wanted to know more about her, how she thought, what she wanted. “That is, if you planned to get married. You wouldn't need to just to have kids. I mean, I just assumed since your family was so adamant about the whole sex thing...”
Shit. I sounded like such an idiot. Fortunately, Nami was laughing. It wasn't the same full laugh she'd had before, but it was real.
“Yes, Reed, I would need to be married.” She was smiling, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “My parents would not approve of children any other way.”
I frowned as I took another bite.
“You do not approve.” Her accent had thickened and I knew she was upset.
“Actually, I was just thinking of how well our parents would get along.” That was half the truth anyway. “My parents put an 'heir' clause in the business contract they drew up when Britni and I got married.” I stabbed a piece of chicken with a little more force than necessary. “Kids are just pawns to my parents.”
Nami reached across the table and put her hand on mine. I jerked my head up, startled as much by the gesture as I was by the touch itself.
“All we can hope for, then, is to do better for our children than our parents have done for us.”
There was something in her voice that made me turn over my hand and squeeze hers, offering her comfort for whatever she was feeling. I raised our hands and kissed the back of hers.
“I'm sure you're going to be a great mother,” I said sincerely. I felt a stab of jealousy at the thought of her with another man and immediately shoved it away. I had no right to be jealous. She wasn't mine. This was just a fun follow up to a great night.
“I don't think so.” She pulled her hand away from mine. “My eldest will be forced to do exactly what I'm doing now.”
I frowned. “But you don't have to do things the same way your parents do. You can let your kids do whatever they want.”
She shook her head, but didn't expound. She went back to eating and silence fell between us again. When the waiter came back to ask if we wanted dessert, we both declined and I asked for the check.
“I'll pay,” she said, reaching for her purse.
“No way.” I picked up the check and handed the waiter my card. “My treat.”