The first snowflake of the season, or at least my first snowflake of the season, hits my nose as Kace and I exit the SUV in front of Riptide. It’s almost as if the universe is sending me a message: I’m entering a new season of life. Or perhaps the universe is just driving that point home, reminding me that yes, change can be a shock, but with a proverbial nice warm jacket, it can also be a blessed relief. And the truth is that life is changing for me, but I’m proud to say that I’ve been smart and brave, looking for answers, thanks to my own ingenuity.
And with Kace by my side, I’m excited about living life, about my future, for the first time in my life.
As if he’s read my mind, Kace’s arm slides around me and we press into the snowy wind, on a path that leads us to the doors of Riptide. We enter the lobby, both of us shivering, but with smiles on our faces, our worries temporarily banked. “I love this time of year,” I say, greeting the doorman and handing off my coat. “We’ve finally escaped the heat.”
“It’s a magical time of year everywhere,” Kace replies, handing off his coat as well. “I want to show you Germany while we’re in Europe if we can work it out. They do Christmas right.”
My first holiday with Kace. The future really is a dream I’d never imagined. Change isn’t that scary anymore, not when I have so much to look forward to experiencing.
Scooping me close and into the nook of his arm, he angles me in front of him, and adds, “Next year, we’ll stay home for the holidays. I don’t even know what a holiday at home looks like.”
Next year.
The words are forbidden to me simply because in this context, they assume an odd mix of stability and adventure. “I’d like to experience that as well.”
Tenderness fills his blue eyes and he kisses the tip of my nose. “And we will. This year will be an adventure.”
I’ve barely had time to fully appreciate the impact of his words and he’s shifted me forward again and set us in motion. “Crystal’s office?” he asks.
“Yes. And how do you have full walk-around credentials here?”
“When you make Mark money, he becomes a real teddy bear.”
“Like that man could ever be a teddy bear,” I say, glancing up at Kace. “Maybe with a whip in his hand.”
“That’s another story,” he comments dryly.
My brows dip. “What does that even mean? That’s the second odd comment you’ve made about him.”
“He’s a man of many dimensions, baby, but then, so am I. I’ll explain later.” We reach the open door to Crystal’s office. We poke our heads in together to find Crystal and Mark behind her desk, her on her phone, while Mark hitches his hip on the edge, listening to her call. Her eyes light on us and she lifts a finger. Mark stands, assumed power radiating from him, his gray suit fitted to the long lines of his body. He is refined masculinity, plain and simple, while Kace manages an intriguing mix of cultured man and rugged bad boy. I used to think I wanted refined masculinity. I was wrong, so very wrong.
“Ms. Alard,” he greets.
“We both know that’s not my name,” I say and add, “Aria.”
His lips quirk. “Good to see you grow a backbone,” he replies.
“As long as she doesn’t start walking around with a stick up her ass like you,” Kace says, “she should do just fine.”
Mark’s lips quirk. “Says a man who plays with sticks for a living. Why don’t I put a glass of whiskey in your hand instead?” He glances at his watch. “We can add some orange juice to suit the time of day.”
On that, Mark, rounds Crystal’s desk and, aware that their talk will be about Alexander, I turn to face Kace, resting a hand on his chest but I don’t speak. I don’t know what to say. I’m worried about him acting against Alexander, but in this moment, I realize that back in San Francisco, I felt differently. I wanted him to act. I wanted him to deal with Alexander. It’s as if returning here, to this city, set me so on edge that I stopped trusting my initial instincts. He and I are alike. We’ve lived with a secret, and that secret has controlled us.
And so I say, “Do what you have to do.”
His eyes narrow, his expression all hard lines and shadows, but he gives me a tiny nod, and for just a moment, I find the hint of approval in his eyes. “I will.”
And with that, I step aside and allow Mark to join him in the doorway. The two men disappear and Crystal disconnects her call. “Finally,” Crystal says. “Sorry about that.”
She looks lovely in an emerald green dress, her blonde hair around her shoulders. She holds up a box. “A bakery brought me cupcake samples. They want us to use them for events. Help me taste test?”
“I don’t need to be asked twice,” I assure her and we settle in at her small round conference table across from each other.
“What better way to stomach Alexander than with sweets,” she says, opening the lid and showing me a half dozen of the yummy looking treats with a variety of pastel colors.
“That’s a box of happiness,” I say. “Well, if they taste good.”
“Agreed. Nothing worse than a dry cupcake that pretended to be good by looking pretty.”
“A bit like Alexander.”
She laughs and hands me a fork. “It is, isn’t it?”
I laugh and we start sampling. The cupcakes aren’t dry. They’re delicious and after we both proclaim our approval, Crystal shifts back to the topic of bad people who hide in pretty packages. “What do you want to do about Alexander?” she asks.
“I’d normally be highly opinionated,” I say, “but there’s a lot more to the war between Kace and Alexander than you and Mark know. I told Kace Mark needs to know. He controls Kace’s power of attorney. He needs to know.”
“I thought he trusted Mark?”
“His silence isn’t about trust. It’s just about how this situation makes him feel.”
“Then it’s something Mark will understand more than Kace probably can imagine.” I expect her to ask for details, and I like her all the more when she doesn’t. Instead, she leans closer. “Care to bet on what the outcome will be?” She walks to a fridge and returns to hand me a bottle of water.
I accept the water as she sits back down. “I think Kace needs time to decide what to do about Alexander. I think he’ll ask you to sell Alexander the wine and let him believe he’s won.”
“With or without you?” I ask.
“Without me. Kace doesn’t want me anywhere near Alexander.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with that?”
“I am, but thank you for looking out for me. I do want to work with Riptide.”
“Good. I’m emailing you a couple of big items. See what you can do with them.”
“I will. Thank you.”
She studies me a moment. “How are you doing after all that went down in San Francisco?”
“You said, Sara talked to you?”
“In coded language—she didn’t want to break your trust with her—but I’m good at reading between the lines.”
“Let me make it easier. I am who you think I am and I’m going to go public. You can use my name to sell tickets to an event or two, I bet,” I joke.
She looks appalled. “I would never do that.”
“It might not be so bad. At least I can be me.”
Her eyes soften. “I know hiding has been hell.” Her hands cover mine. “But are you sure it’s safe to come forward?”
Her concern is a two-sided coin—a reminder of the years I’ve spent alone with no one worrying about me, and at the new season of my life with Kace and new friends. “Blake believes it’s the right move,” I say, “and honestly, Crystal, I don’t want to go on like this any longer. I don’t want to hide.”
“When I met Mark, he had a situation going on. It’s a long story, but let’s just say a bit of a stalker problem. The attention turned to me and Walker saved my life.”
My eyes go wide. “Oh my God.”
“I’ll tell you the whole story over drinks one night.”
“I think you and me and Sara need a whole lot of drinks to talk about all the stuff in our lives.”
She laughs. “That’s the truth, but bottom line: you’re in good hands with Walker. What’s the plan? If you’re okay with talking about it?”
“We’re going to Italy, back to where it all started. Other than that, I’m not sure. Blake has men on the ground there, making sure they’re ready for me.”
The phone on Crystal’s desk buzzes before a female voice says, “There’s a call for Aria.”
I go cold inside. A call for me? My eyes meet Crystal’s and hers tell a story. She knows this is a problem. “Who is it?” Crystal asks.
The receptionist replies with, “She says she’s a personal friend of Aria’s.”
I grab my phone. “I’ll be right there,” I call out, and eye Crystal. “Get Kace, please. I’m calling Blake.”
She’s already standing, rushing for the door. Blake answers on the first ring. “Aria? Everything okay?”
“No. I’m at Riptide with Crystal. Someone just called the reception desk for me. She says she’s a personal friend.”
“We’re not monitoring that phone. That means this person’s smart. I’m going to try to trace the call now. Answer it on speaker. Record the call. Do you know how to do that on your phone?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Go now before they hang up. Understand?”
“Yes.” He disconnects.
I rush to the desk and watch the red light turn off. I’m too late. The caller hung up. “Damn it,” I murmur.
The phone buzzes again. “I’ve got that caller for Aria back on the line.”
I pull up the recorder on my phone. “Put it through,” I say, and when the light goes red this time, I answer. “This is Aria.”
Kace appears in the doorway and I hold a finger to my lips to silence him. A familiar female voice I can’t quite place breaks through the line and says, “I can’t believe you’re alive. I only found you because I was watching Kace, waiting for the day he found you. I knew he would.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, as Kace rounds the desk and kneels beside me, in front of the phone.
“Did you find the one true daisy in the wind?” the woman asks, avoiding my question.
Kace and I share a look of understanding and I say, “I did. What were you telling me?”
“Tell me what it means to you,” she orders.
“I’m not doing that,” I say, aware she could be fishing for an answer rather than offering them to me.
“No,” she says. “No, of course not. You don’t trust me. You shouldn’t trust me. But tell me this: did Kace tell you what it means?”
It’s a question that exposes Kace’s knowledge of the words, his connection to my father, and I look to him for approval. He offers a small nod and I say, “Yes. He did.”
“Good. I wasn’t sure he would, and yet that still doesn’t mean you can trust him. They could have gotten to him.”
“Who is they?” I ask quickly.
“The men who took your father. After all of these years, they found me. I was with him that day. He helped me escape. They found me. They took the journal he gave me to give to you when you were eighteen. And now they know what I know.”
My lips part in surprise. My father gave this woman, whoever she is, a journal to keep for me? Why her and not my mother? My mind chases her voice. It’s still so familiar. Kace taps my finger, jolting me back to the conversation that could end at any moment. “Who took my father?”
“You’re better off not knowing. I wish I didn’t know. I wish this didn’t hit so close to my home and yours, but it does. The bottom line is, they know what I know now.”
“Which is what? What do you know? What do they know?”
“The formula can be found with the one true daisy and you.”
It’s what my brother said. It’s what he said Sofia believed. “What does that mean?”
“That’s for you to figure out. This is it for me. I’m done or almost done. I’m all but finally out of this.”
I can sense she’s going to hang up, and she quickly says, “He’s dead, honey. You know that as well as he knew you were the future of the Stradivari family. Watch your text messages. You’ll hear from me one last time.” And then she hangs up.