“So, how are you doing?” I asked Brett when he visited me in New York. We were up having beer on the rooftop.
“I’m fine,” he said, but his tone was not so convincing. I raised a brow at him. “By that, I mean I’m surviving information overload, trial by fire, meeting up with more people in a month than I ever did in my entire life, and trying to become the great Robert Clarke in approximately two hundred and fifty-five days. I’m losing my bachelor years too fast, but yeah, I’m all right.”
I reached out and squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry. It could have been me, you know.”
He nodded. “Yeah. You could have been in my shoes. But the thing is, I never dreamed of becoming a chef. I’ve always wanted to be a businessman. I can’t force this fate on you, too. It’s just things are happening too fast, too soon.”
“Don’t worry, Brett. You’ll do great. Soon, you’ll be in Forbes magazine as one of the youngest, most successful CEOs in the country. It’s written in your stars. You were brilliant in school, in spite of you being up all night playing in the band. You were destined for greatness, Brett Clarke. The corporate world wants you in it now. You’re going to be a rockstar there.”
“You have so much faith in me, bro,” he said. “Always have.”
I smiled. After all these months, no matter if my hair had grown a lot longer, Brett still calls me ‘bro.’ “You always had the same faith in me.”
“By the way, we’re reinventing Mayflair. We were thinking of giving it a new flair. Something new, something the people will talk about. If it works, we’ll do it for the rest.”
Mayflair was the first hotel my father built. It was the biggest hotel in our hometown.
“Wow. That’s a good idea. I always did think my father’s design consultants were a bit uncreative. Do we have enough capital to finance the renovations?”
“For Mayflair, yes. For the rest, we will make the upgrades as slowly as possible. Use the eighty-twenty principle. If it works, we’ll have enough capital raked in to upgrade eighty percent of our major branches in two years.”
“I would like to see that.”
“They’re doing the final works now. You can come next week before we open it to the public.”
“I’ll check my schedule,” I said. “Is it safe to come home now?”
“I’ll put some guys on your tail, but you’ll be all right.”
“Absolutely not!” I said, appalled at the thought. “I will not come home unless you can assure me that I can walk the streets like a normal person!”
“All right,” he said. “As long as you report your whereabouts every two hours, it should be fine.” He stood up from his seat. “Austin said he’s gonna be here thirty minutes ago.”
“Maybe something came up at the restaurant.”
“Okay, I guess I’ll go meet him there. You sure you’re not coming?”
I shook my head. “I’ll camp in my room tonight.”
Whenever Brett’s in town, he and Austin go out to have some beers and play some pool. I was happy they got along well. Austin didn’t have many friends outside of his work. He mostly kept to himself.
I didn’t feel like going out. I was more anxious to check out the package that Brett brought for me. I knew that as per usual, it would have letters and presents from Nick and right now, I couldn’t wait to spend the whole night reading his letters over and over.
Now, the fear surrounding my father’s murder was over. I found my footing here in New York, and my life was finally having direction. I could stand on my own. I found myself and proven that I wasn’t with Nick because I needed him. I could honestly say that I would be fine on my own, but happier with him if he still wants to give it a try.
I will have a short break from school in a week. Maybe it would be the right time to come home.
“Well, I’ll leave early in the morning. I won’t wake you up. Austin usually has somebody to drive me to the airport. I brought your stuff. Janice took it to your room,” Brett said.
I leaned forward to give him a hug. “I’ll see you soon. Maybe next weekend, I’ll come home.”
I found the paper bags on top of my bed. I decided to take a hot shower first to relax my senses. I couldn’t wait to lie down in bed and lose myself in Nick’s love letters.
After half an hour, I found myself opening the paper bags that Brett brought me. I found some clothes, no doubt from Terry. She likes shopping for me as if I was her own living Barbie doll. There was a small bag that had a small package in it. I smiled to myself. This was it. Nick’s letters.
I lay down in bed and opened the package. There was a box and an envelope. I excitedly opened the letter.
Kitten,
I hope you’re not getting tired of reading my letters; I sure am not getting tired of writing them. People say I’m crazy for doing this. I’d say, I was a fool for messing this up in the first place. If I didn’t, you’d still be with me. You’d still be home.
I was short of begging Brett to tell me where you are. I did one time actually. I gotta hand it to that guy. He could keep a secret, huh.
I’m in London a lot. Being in the States was just a little bit too hard for me, you know. It reminds me so much of you, of us, of the beautiful thing that we had. Nowadays, I only go to the States for work and only when absolutely necessary.
The family’s happy about it except for one person. Three guesses who. Not that I care, really. I’ve given up on earning Beatrice’s respect that time you came home with me.
I heard they closed the case of your father. I guess I could expect you to come home soon. It should be safer now. And you know I can protect you, right? You call me Superman, remember?
I knew I told you to take your time to forgive me. I knew it could be a lot for you, given your father’s demise. I just hope I have a way of knowing that you’re all right. That we’re going to be all right. Even if it won’t be soon, I hope I have a way of knowing that someday, you and I will be together again.
I keep my promises, kitten. I’ll keep doing this ‘til my last breath. Even if you don’t want me to. Even if I don’t get anything back.
I love you. And I know you still love me. I believe in us. But in case you’ve totally given up on us, I only wish that you will be happy. Even if it means you’ll be happier without me. You deserve it, you know. You deserve to have all your dreams come true. Whatever you decide, I will support you.
I have a gift for you here. I came across a souvenir shop once when I went with my mother to Wales. It sold angel statues and stuff. The old lady there told me that Cassiel was my angel according to my birth. His job was to protect me, always keep me safe. Well, I can think of a better job for him to do. So I’m sending him to you so he could protect you instead… until I could be with you to do it myself.
Forever,
Nick
Tears were rolling down my cheeks after I read his letter. I opened the box and true enough, there was a big snowball with a white and gold base and an angel inside dressed in glorious white and golden robes. The angel looked magnificent and formidable. I smiled in spite of my tears. I felt safer already.
I reached inside the bag for his next letter, but to my surprise, that was it. I was expecting four letters from him. Like always. There were months he sent five letters and some postcards. If he visited another city, he would send a postcard or a souvenir from there.
I checked the date of the letter. It was written a month ago. Which meant it was all that Brett received this month. I re-read his letter. I realized it was the first one that he signed. From his previous letters, he would end it with an ‘I love you,’ telling me to come home, to come back to him. But now, he ended it by saying he wanted me to be happy and safe. And he signed it with ‘Forever, Nick.’
I dialed Brett’s number to ask him if he missed any letter for me.
“What? You mean the usual packages you receive without a return address? The one that you get four times a week or more?” Brett asked.
“Yes,” I replied anxiously.
“No. That’s all I got this month.”
“Is it possible that one of your maids missed some letters?”
“No. All letters for you were brought up to your room. I’m pretty sure that was all. Why?”
“Nothing. Okay, enjoy your night.”
When I hang up the phone, I couldn’t help wondering if Nick finally gave up on me. Was I too late? Did I wait too long? Was he saying goodbye?
But he promised to write to me until his last breath. Did I really think he would keep that promise? Blaze was right. I should have at least given him hope! I knew I have forgiven him already. I always knew I was going to come back to him. But that was the problem! I knew! He didn’t! And if he gave up, then fuck! It was entirely my fault!
I quickly took my phone and dialed his number. I paced back and forth while I waited for it to ring. Then I got a busy tone. I dialed it again. I got his voicemail, which meant that his phone was either off or out of coverage. I dialed it again and again. Still I got only his voicemail.
I read his letter again. For six months, he never failed to write me, like he promised he would.
I realized how stupid it was of me to think he’ll hang around forever. I mean Nick was… damn it! Nick was everything I could ever ask for in a guy. Yes, he made a mistake making a deal with my father. He didn’t think about me, he discounted my feelings for the sake of the diner. He owned up to that mistake and six long months was probably more than enough time to suffer for it. He’s proven that he loved me, still loves me. Well, at least until three weeks ago… until his last letter.
I dialed his number. I was again redirected to the voicemail.
That was it! I have been ready for some time now. I realized I wasn’t going to wait anymore. I wouldn’t let Nick wait anymore. I was coming home.
It was the weekend anyway. I’ll go see Nick and then come back Sunday night. What I have to say to Nick couldn’t be done through the phone or by email or letter. I have to say it to him in person. He deserved it! He chased me long enough. He fought for us consistently. It was time I do the same thing.
I sent Brett a message and told him that I was coming with him. Then I packed a couple of clothes. While I waited for Brett to come back, I read Nick’s letter over and over, then I rehearsed what I was going to say to him when we finally see each other.
Eight hours later, I landed in Salt Lake City with Brett. It was already noontime.
“I know why you came home,” Brett said to me as soon as we entered their house.
I smiled at him. “You still don’t like him very much, do you?”
He shrugged. “I love you very much. I’m bound to be overprotective, cautious, and suspicious of anybody you’re dating. You never told me why you two broke up in the first place, but I’m guessing he fucked up. Now, I want to ask you. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
I smiled at him brightly. “I love him, Brett. He loves me. I know what I’m doing. He didn’t really mess up big time. My father also had something to do with it. But you know what, I think I’ve already forgiven my father for everything he did to me. Whatever Nick did was quite miniscule compared to what Dad did. Now, I’m actually asking myself what took me so long to come home. Nick’s punishment should have ended a couple of months ago.”
“All right. But if he fucks up again, he doesn’t get another chance, okay? I will mess up that pretty face of his.”
I laughed and then I hugged Brett. “Thank you, Brett. I love you, too, you know.”
Just then, we were interrupted by Brett’s father. “There you are! And what a surprise, Mackenzie. You didn’t tell us you were coming home.”
I hugged my uncle. “It was actually unplanned.”
“Well, anyway, before you two disappear again, I want you to come to my office. The final designs for three more of our hotels had just been emailed to me. It’s in 3D, so you two will have a better view.”
“It will only take a couple of minutes, Ken,” Brett said.
Once in my uncle’s office, he set up the projector so he could show us the designs on a white screen.
The 3D presentation showed us how the hotels would be renovated, giving it a Mediterranean theme. It was sea-facing, with at least two infinity pools and the penthouse suite having its own private pool. The design was luxurious and minimalist at the same time. It felt as if the hotel was situated in Santorini, rather than in Salt Lake City. The rooms would be spacious, painted in white, blue and hints of gold, with pillars ala Roman and Greek style.
I was really impressed and for a while, I forgot my main reason for coming home. I gave my honest opinions to Brett and my uncle, providing insights on where improvements could be made, using theories I’ve learned in school about the usual human behavior and preference.
I noticed that there was a huge vacant portion on the ground floor in all of the hotel designs.
“I don’t know what you’re saving that for, but that space could be utilized for a line of shops.”
My uncle and Brett stared at each other for a moment.
“All the renovations contained this vacant spot, Brett,” my uncle said.
“I know.” Brett nodded.
“What are your designers’ plans for them?”
Brett stared at the monitor for a while and then he smiled. “Something very significant.”
“What?” I asked.
“There’s a concept that was pitched to me. I liked it. For the time being, those spaces would remain untouched.”
My uncle raised a brow. “Son, it will be a waste if we don’t utilize it. Each of these spaces is located at the prime spots. I don’t know what you and your consultants are saving those areas for.”
Brett sighed. “In a year’s time, when these projects are completed, it will be utilized. Trust me.” Then he turned to me. “Any more improvements you’d like to make?”
I shook my head.
“I’ll call in my consultant for a meeting. You can join us and express your thoughts in person. After all, these are your hotels, Ken. You do have a say in all these,” Brett said.
I liked that. I could sit with Brett’s designers and give my inputs. Maybe I could find use for the years of psychology education I put up with.
“Can I go now?” I asked.
They both nodded. I headed out to my room to take a nice long bath. After drying my hair, I changed into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved blouse. Then I went to my car, which had been sitting in the garage for months, waiting for my return.
As I drove, I dialed Nick’s number again. It was still off. I raced to his house, hoping that he would be there. I still have my key. If he was not there, I can… I don’t know, leave a note or something. But damn, I hope he’d be there!
But when I arrived at his house, I noticed that both of his vehicles weren’t in the parking lot, which never happened before. It could be a good thing, too, because if his car was not parked up front, it meant he was in the country.
As I approached the house, I saw a blonde woman standing at the front lawn. I haven’t seen her before. She looked to be in her late thirties.
“Excuse me, can I help you?” she asked. She was holding a file folder and I read the words ‘Norton Real Estate’ embossed on it.
“Uhm, I’m sorry, who are you?” I asked instead. In the months that I lived in this house, Nick never received a visitor or a client here.
“I’m Tracy Mcdermont, real estate broker.”
“What?”
She looked at me as if I was mentally challenged. “I mean, I sell houses. I’m selling this one in particular.”
“Why would the house be on sale?” I asked, trying to hide my shock.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t ask questions. I just got here myself and I’m waiting for my company to send me more details. I don’t even have the key yet. This one’s new and I’m sure it will take no time to sell. It was one of those high-profile, off-the-record deals. You can’t come and see unless an authorized agent shows it to you. And we’re the only authorized agent to sell this house.”
“Why… why are you selling this house?”
She rolled her eyes, looking as if she was losing her patience with me. “It’s been listed in my company. I don’t ask questions. I think the previous owner died and now it’s on the market. Now, if you don’t have an appointment, I suggest you leave. Or I’ll call the police for trespassing.”
Actually, I was no longer hearing what she was saying. My body felt numb, and my mind was frozen on the last four words that I heard her say: the previous owner died.
“No, no!” I said, panicking. “You’re mistaken! He’s not dead!”
The broker sighed. “I don’t care. Now, off you go or I’ll call the cops.”
My hands were shaking when I went back to my car. I refused to believe what she just said. She was mistaken! The owner of the house didn’t die! But why was the house on the market for sale?
It’s not true! It’s not true! It can’t be true!
Margaret. She would know. And she would tell me there had been a mistake.
The drive to the diner usually takes ten minutes. It only took four minutes, but felt like fifty.
“Margaret!” I called as soon as I entered.
The customers all looked at me. I ran to the counter. There were new faces there. I knew nobody in this diner! It was the same ambience, just more customers and slightly younger servers and cooks.
“I’m looking for Margaret Matthews,” I told the lady at the counter.
“She’s not here.”
“Can you tell me where she is?” I asked. My hands were getting cold and my knees were turning jelly.
“She flew to London. Somebody she considers family recently passed away.”
“Wha-what?”
“She was heartbroken about it when she left. Said it happened all of a sudden. But she couldn’t afford not to come all the way to London. Grandpa Chef, too.”
“Who was it?”
The lady shrugged. “Don’t know. I’m new here. I told you everything she told me.”
I quickly exited the diner. I felt like choking. Everything about the diner reminded me of Nick. The last time I went here, I was giddy from making love to him. The memories rushing to my head were suffocating me.
It could not be!
It was not true. Even if it made sense. The real estate broker said the owner of the house died and now, somebody Margaret and Grandpa Chef considered as family had just passed away—in London!
Fuck!
Now, I wished I insisted on exchanging numbers with Blaze. He would call me! He would be the first one to tell me if something happened to Nick!
God! Nick’s last letter to me was three weeks ago. And he promised to write to me every week until his last breath.
I took my phone and searched the directories in London, hoping that the Maguires are listed. I would call and ask for Nick.
He would come to the phone or they would tell me he’s at a party, or in a meeting with a client. They could tell me anything. He could be in a date with Margot or any other girl, I don’t fucking care anymore! As long as he was fine. I’d okay with that. As long as he was alive and well, I would be happiest woman on Earth.
Finally, I found Brad Maguire’s residential address and phone number. I dialed it and held my breath, hoping for somebody to pick up. At first, nobody did. I tried again. Finally, I heard a familiar voice on the other line. It sounded like Beatrice.
“Hello, is Nick there? Can… can I speak to him?” I asked nervously.
There was a long pause. Then Beatrice said, “Nicholas? No. I’m sorry, sweetie. But Nick’s dead!”
I dropped my phone to the ground and it shattered to at least four parts. But I didn’t even see, hear, or feel it. Because right at that moment, my heart stopped beating. It froze inside my chest and then it broke into a million pieces. The world turned dark and my body slowly shut down.