Wilde Magic (Wilde Women Book 3) (60 page)

P
LEASE DON’T DO THIS.

She couldn’t make those words stop echoing in her head. Caleb’s plea that she not leave. But the words and her leaving were both pieces of a mismatched china set. That was how she saw their relationship. Beautiful, if shabby, and completely impractical. Chips, cracks, fractures and all.

Charlie packed her stuff and was on her way to Nana’s within days of telling Brynn what she planned to do. Waiting around for something to change was just stupid. She’d had enough and needed some distance. Not a lot, just enough to get her head straight and pull it together.

A lot of water had flown under the bridge since.

Tearing open a battered box marked BCBW she pushed hair escaping her ponytail away from her face and peered inside. Most of what she’d already sorted through was unimportant, dry stuff. She thought of it like kindling. Necessary to build the bonfire but little more than a pile of twigs and branches.

First glance inside, though, and she knew right away this one was different. Right on top was an old photograph album with gold embossed flourishes on the spine and cover. Her top teeth came down and grabbed onto her bottom lip as she carefully lifted the potential treasure from the cardboard container.

It was heavy. Big. She pulled the album against her chest and leaned her head. She smelled old books, a hint of rose and memories. She smelled memories.

Charlie moved swiftly to a big round table she was using as a desk, swept a pile of papers and magazines aside and gently settled the leather album. Pulling up a rolling stool, she sat down, rubbed her hands on her jean covered thighs a couple of times and took a deep breath.

What would she find today?

Nibbling on her bottom lip, she carefully, almost reverently lifted the cover and guided it open. She gasped quietly when a picture of her fantastically handsome grandfather appeared.

Anthony Baron-Wilde, the much-lauded patriarch of the family passed away suddenly when Charlie was only ten. More than a dozen years had gone by since then but she remembered her Grandad with enormous affection. To a little girl, the courtly gentleman was larger than life. He had a wicked laugh and a fearsome temper. Ridiculously good-looking, he might have led a life of privilege but he was a serious humanitarian who devoted his time and energies to a variety of charitable organizations and trusts.

As she turned the pages, Charlie was treated to a history of his boyhood. Her heart raced as she studied the sepia prints and black & white photos from a different century.

The debonair businessman he grew into was a devout bachelor who fell fast and hard for a vivacious actress with a very public wild streak. Anthony was Nana’s prince.

Shutting the album, Charlie took her water bottle and went to sit by one of the tall leaded glass windows in the library of Nana’s house where she spent her days.

Weeks had gone by. Long, excruciating weeks and instead of moving on like she planned to, all she did was think. About Caleb and her. Even though it felt like her life was in pieces, she never let on. Couldn’t. Not with Brynn being pregnant and then the whole crazy, insane spectacle that Rhiann and Liam Ashforth put on.

She still couldn’t wrap her mind around everything her sister went through since Christmas. Lost her job, went to hide out at Brynn’s wedding gift house in the Outer Banks. Then some half-baked lunatic with a hard-on for Liam started stalking Rhi. Liam and his bodyguard rushed to North Carolina on a rescue mission. Somehow Rhi got kidnapped and very nearly killed. There were SWAT teams, undercover operatives, the FBI. You name it.

Rhiann wasn’t exactly known for being the low-key sister.

The kerfuffle with Rhi gave Nana a for real, this time, heart episode and landed her in the hospital. Matter of fact, she thought as she grabbed the vintage watch necklace she picked up during a stroll along antique row, she better get a move on.

Every afternoon, she dropped whatever she was doing and got dressed up to go have tea with Nana. The doctors insisted on keeping her for observation, they said—but she suspected there was more to it. This time, the health scare was real. Her grandmother was in her eighties and she couldn’t be fucking around and not taking care of herself.

Forty-five minutes later, Nana’s driver, the curmudgeonly Mr. Armstrong, rang to let her know he was in the garage waiting. Taking the subway or a bus, even calling a cab wouldn’t be a problem. Not in a city like Philadelphia but Nana insisted Mr. Armstrong see to her safety.

A short drive later, they arrived at the hospital where the driver opened her door and helped her from the car with quite a flourish. She immediately missed Caleb. He did good car, never failing to take control of her door and staying close to help her in or out.

Damn. See? This was the problem. Every little thing reminded her of something she couldn’t forget.

Her heels tapped along the shiny hospital corridor floors. She liked the soothing cadence. Helped narrow her scattered thoughts. Being present for her grandmother was important to Charlie. Seeing to Nana’s emotional needs fell to her, since she was the closest to the situation.

She checked out her appearance in a polished steel panel next to the elevator. Charlie was playing a part. Her grandmother was a fixture in the city’s old school social scene. This was not the time for a Janis Joplin costume change. The simple navy blue pencil skirt and matching blouse made the most of her cool blonde coloring. With her hair in a neat chignon and the delicate pearl earrings she wore, Charlie looked like a Main Line socialite out for a visit.

“Knock, knock,” she called out quietly when she reached the door to Nana’s private room. Pushing open the wide door, she heard the whoosh as it moved, followed by her grandmother’s distinctive drawl.

“This must be my baby!”

Charlie smiled ear to ear. There were worse things than being everyone’s baby. It was, after all, her place in the sibling and grandchild pecking order.

It was absolutely not a surprise whatsoever to find her quirky grandmother in high-spirits and holding court before a bevy of admirers from her hospital bed. Bryanna Charles was in the house.

Waving her to come close, Nana exclaimed, “Charlize, darling. You’ll never believe who’s here.”

She went dutifully and kissed her cheek, whispered “Buonasera, Nana,” then straightened and looked over their visitors.

A tall, distinguished-looking man with a George Clooney-ish twinkle and the most luxurious head of grey hair she’d ever seen stepped forward with a nod and extended his hand.

“Ms. Wilde. A pleasure. Your grandmother speaks of you often. Rafael Navarro, at your service. Brie and I are old, old friends.”

Brie? Who the hell was this guy?

Shaking Rafael Navarro’s hand was like being handed over to another time. His grasp was firm, solid and friendly. He covered her smaller hand with his on top and gently squeezed. He certainly was intriguing.

“You look so much like your grandmother did when she was your age.”

Nana giggled. Charlie, stunned, reclaimed her hand from Rafael’s grasp and gaped at her grandmother. When the hell did she learn how to giggle like a schoolgirl?

A shorter woman hovering in the shadows gave Charlie a curt nod. She looked like everyone’s idea of what a Hollywood villainess looked like. Average height. Rail thin. Like, lettuce munching, thin. Hair rat-tailed into a towering beehive, she wore way too much make-up and had the pinched mouth look of someone who never had a nice word to say.

“What’s going on Nana?” she asked. “Aren’t we having tea?”

“Oh, of course, dear,” she assured Charlie with a quick nod. “Rafael was in town and dropped by. To, uh … talk business.”

“Business?”

Charlie looked back and forth between her blushing grandmother and a beaming Rafael. Only the sourpuss in the shadows wasn’t grinning.

“Ah yes,” he murmured. “Let me explain. Please. Brie approached me about publishing her memoirs. Ms. Watson,” he said with hardly a glance in sourpuss’s direction “is going to liaison on this project. She’ll coordinate Brie’s efforts on this end and facilitate whatever she needs with my staff.”

“You’re a publisher?” The picture was getting clearer.

“Indeed,” he chuckled. “Among other things.”

“Oh, stop Rafe!” Nana chuckled. “You’re a rancher. It’s just a coincidence that the publishing house I chose happened to be among your family’s holdings.”

“Is it?” he asked silkily. “A coincidence.”

What? The? Fuck?

Ms. Watson was clearly not amused by this exchange and shut down the fascinating interplay. “We should go, sir.” She informed an annoyed looking Rafael. “Leave Mrs. Wilde to her visit.”

Charlie was nearly flabbergasted when the urbane gentleman went to her grandmother’s side and leaned in for a two-cheek kiss. He whispered something which got him a pat on the arm and another giggle.

“You’ll visit again. Soon?” Nana asked.

He answered in Spanish, she blushed profusely and rearranged the cashmere throw, draped over the hospital bedding.

“Ms. Wilde.” He took her hand and actually kissed it. Oh my God. She couldn’t wait to tell her sisters about this guy. And then he and his uptight henchwoman were gone and it was just her and Nana.

“Anything you wanna tell me?”

It was all kinds of funny watching her normally formidable grandmother get chopped down to size, just like every other female, by a hot man with swoon-worthy manners.

“Mind out of the gutter, Charlize,” she snipped. “We did not sleep together—not in the biblical sense. No matter what it looks like.”

Okay. Not gonna get anything out of her with that line of questioning so she tried another route. “He’s a rancher? And a publisher?”

“Yes. To both. He inherited his family’s estancia in Argentina. Horse, cattle. The usual. Before that he ran several business. I love Buenos Aires,” she added somewhat wistfully. “It’s a beautiful, old city.”

Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner! Looks like Rafael Navarro might very well be the originator of the gaucho bean recipe her grandmother had been making all these years. Well, well, well.

“You look lovely, my dear. I wish you’d dress like that more often—not just when you’re trying to make an old woman happy.”

“You’re not old Nana. You’re vintage and that’s the best thing to be if you ask me.”

A short rapping at the door drew their attention. “Ah, our tea’s arrived. Wonderful. Take care of it will you Charlize?”

Saying their tea arrived was a glaring understatement. A uniformed attendant from Nana’s favorite restaurant wheeled a food trolley into the room and began unpacking the essentials for a high tea. Charlie did what she could to help but the guy had a system and knew what he was doing. So she turned her attentions to her grandmother—making sure her pillows were okay, and that she was comfortable. She even slid the side table close and switched on some music from Nana’s ever-present iPad.

For the next hour they sipped Chocolate Truffle Robibos tea and nibbled from a selection of tea cakes, cookies and scones. The conversation was light, well-mannered, civilized. No matter what was going on, the unwritten rule of afternoon tea was that no serious subjects be discussed. Charlie knew how to do this and it was something she did well. Tea with Nana was practically a religion with her and her sisters.

Dishes cleared and the attendant dismissed with a smile, it was just the two of them. Something was on Nana’s mind. She could sense it. For the first time, she noticed a slight strain around the old woman’s eyes.

“Darling.”

Charlie looked up. “What do you need Nana?”

Scooting to one side she patted the bed next to her and said, “Come lay with granny.”

The request wasn’t as odd as it would seem. Her whole life she’d been curling up in her Nana’s arms. Kicking off her shoes, she hiked up her skirt and maneuvered onto the big hospital bed.

They settled in. She loved laying like this—with her head upon her beloved grandmother’s shoulder and their legs touching. She inhaled. Even in the hospital, Bryanna Wilde smelled sweet and spicy like a Moroccan bazaar.

“Have you spoken to Rhiann? They won’t let me talk to her. Not yet. Damn doctors.”

Ah. She was worried about Rhi. They all were. Learning how close they came to almost losing her hit the family really hard.

“The men closed ranks,” she explained. “Daddy is in constant touch with Liam and some guy named Roman. I think he’s Liam’s bodyguard. Anyway, they let me say hi and hear her voice. See that she’s really all right. But that’s it. Brynn knows more than I do. Jax was involved because of the house.”

“I liked that man from the moment I met him. Good people, the Merrill’s. Jackson saved your sister’s life you know. Brynn was well on her way to being as dull and dusty as one of her bags of flour before he came along.”

“I like him too. He’s got that man’s man thing going on. He’ll take good care of her I think.”

“And how did you find his brother? Caleb, right? He struck me as being quite a capable young man.”

Charlie didn’t say anything right away, so her grandmother kept on talking.

“Your grandfather was quite a bit older than me when we met.” She laughed and hugged Charlie tighter. “At first he was enchanted by my bohemian actress shtick. He dropped everything to court me—even suffering through the endless rounds of cocktail parties and theater events. I thought he might be the one.”

Nothing new so far in this story. Charlie heard it countless times.

“Then one day he changed his tune. Started telling me what I could and couldn’t do. No smoking. Too much drinking. Far too many male friends even though half of them were gay.”

The sound of her grandmother’s outrage, even all these years later, was charming and sweet.

“Oh, he made me so mad! We had a terrible row. I was Bryanna Charles and nobody bossed me around. My Anthony, well, he did not agree.”

“So you left him, right?”

“That’s right, baby. I was in love with a man who had the power to control me, if I allowed it. I was young. Your age more or less. Thought I knew what was best for me. So yes. I left. Left the country just to prove the point.”