33. Ayana
CHAPTER 33
Ayana
M y mother was right. A weekend at home, surrounded by family, was just what the doctor ordered.
The next morning, after my first restful night’s sleep in a week, I joined Aaron and my parents at their restaurant while Vuk met up with his security team for a debrief.
I used to help out in the kitchen after school, and I quickly settled back into the comforting rhythm of putting in orders and packing to go bags. The mundane tasks were so far removed from the fashion world and threat of assassins that they were almost therapeutic.
“I told you, you don’t need to do this,” my mother said. “You should be relaxing. Go to a spa. Go shopping. Have fun.”
I shook my head. “I can do that in New York. I’d rather be here.” I placed two sets of utensils in a brown paper bag. “I’ve missed this place.”
“If she wants to work, let her work,” Aaron said as he passed by with a bowl of stew. “We could use the help, and she’s been lazing around in the big city for too long. It’s time she remembers what real labor looks like.”
He laughed when I swatted his arm.
Our mother shook her head. She was smiling, but an inkling of worry darkened her eyes when she looked at me.
My family had avoided talking about the wedding or Jordan so far. I assumed they were worried I’d slide off the deep end or something if they brought those topics up. They didn’t know about my arrangement with Jordan, so in their eyes, I was a devastated fiancée who was putting on a brave face for the world.
I mean, I was devastated and putting on a brave face—but not as much as I would be if I were in love with him. In fact, there’d been moments yesterday when he’d slipped my mind entirely, like when I was teasing Vuk about bingo and we said goodnight. If I’d stayed a second longer, I might’ve kissed him.
Just one more brick to add to my house of guilt.
Fortunately, the restaurant was so busy, I didn’t have time to dwell on it. It wasn’t fancy, but it’d garnered a cult following over the years. Every celebrity who visited D.C. usually dropped by for a meal.
Autographed photos of high-profile guests covered the dining room’s Wall of Fame. They featured everyone from movie star Nate Reynolds to British soccer phenom Asher Donovan to Queen Bridget of Eldorra, who’d been a regular here during her student days at Thayer University.
“So,” my mother said during our lunch break, which we took at a table set against the Wall. “What’s going on with you and Vuk?”
I almost choked on my water. I should’ve guessed she was just waiting for the right moment to pounce.
“I don’t know what you mean.” I schooled my face into a neutral expression.
“Ayana, you may be an adult now, but you’re still my daughter. I know you better than anyone.” Her tone gentled. “We don’t have to talk about this now if you don’t want to. It’s been a heavy week. But I saw the way you looked at him last night. You seemed…happy. I haven’t seen you laugh like that in a long time.”
I stared at my vegetable bowl. The bricks kept piling up in my stomach. “I shouldn’t be happy. Jordan is in the hospital.”
My engagement ring glinted on my finger. I didn’t know how to navigate the post-wedding world. Should I act more like a fiancée or a concerned friend? If Jordan stayed in a coma indefinitely, should I tell people about our arrangement, or should I return the ring and let them think I was a cold-hearted bitch for ditching my fiancé when things got tough?
“Joy doesn’t require the absence of grief,” my mother said. “We have the capacity to hold both at the same time. That’s part of the human experience.” She paused and waited for a server to pass. The dining room was so loud, no one paid us any mind except for a group of teenage girls who seemed to recognize me. They kept looking over and trying to take discreet photos on their phones.
“I don’t want you to take what I’m about to ask in the wrong way,” my mother said after the server was gone. “I’m your mother, and I’ll never judge you. So tell me the truth. Is there a part of you, however small, that’s…relieved the wedding didn’t go through?”
The floor opened beneath my feet. I plummeted, my stomach free-falling with nauseating speed. I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
Was I that transparent? I’d been home for less than a day, and my mother had already clocked the real reason behind my guilt. She was right; I was relieved I hadn’t had to marry Jordan.
Logic and loyalty had refused to let me call off the wedding on my own, but if the universe intervened, that was a sign, wasn’t it? I would’ve never wanted the wedding to end the way it had, but now that it was done—or at least postponed—I felt more at ease.
The ball wasn’t in my court anymore. All I had to do was wait.
“Would I be a terrible person if I said yes?” I asked in a small voice.
“No.” My mother squeezed my hand, her voice unexpectedly fierce. “We can’t control our feelings. Whether it’s envy, bitterness, or, yes, relief, we’ve all felt things we were ashamed to feel. But it’s our actions that matter most. You weren’t the one who instigated the shootout or put Jordan in a coma. You mourned what happened as much as anyone else. So give yourself grace for the part of you that’s human. You are allowed to feel however you feel.”
I swallowed the emotion burning in my throat. “How did you know?”
“I’m your mother. It’s my job to know.” Her eyes crinkled with a sad smile. “You never seemed quite as excited as brides usually are in the lead-up to the wedding. When you asked me how I knew your father was the one, it clicked. I saw your face before you walked down the aisle, Ayaniye. That wasn’t the face of a woman in love.”
“No.” My voice grew smaller. “It wasn’t.”
“Were you ever in love with him?”
I gave a slow shake of my head.
“Then why marry him?” A crease formed between my mother’s brows.
“It’s complicated.”
For the umpteenth time, I debated telling her about my arrangement with Jordan. Given what happened, he probably wouldn’t be upset about me breaking our “tell no one” rule if and when he woke up.
Even so, I couldn’t place that burden on her. If I said it was to help a friend, she’d say no true friend would put me in such an uncomfortable position. If I said it was for money, she’d ask what I needed the money for. I already made a comfortable living as a model, and shopping habits aside, I wasn’t that materialistic.
But if I told her I wanted to leave Beaumont, that’d lead to more questions until she eventually found out how much they mistreated me. I’d successfully pretended I was living the glam life in New York because on the surface, I was, and I didn’t see my family in person often enough for them to notice the cracks. If she discovered how unhappy I was, that would crush her. She worried enough about me living in the city on my own.
Most of all, I didn’t want my family to know I’d rushed into the Beaumont contract for them. They’d never forgive themselves.
“More complicated than your relationship with Vuk?” my mother asked shrewdly, bringing my attention back to the present.
I let out a rueful laugh. “I don’t know. They’re pretty close on the complication meter.” I shredded my injera into little doughy strips. I loved my father’s cooking, but I wasn’t hungry anymore. “If you suspected I didn’t love Jordan, why didn’t you say anything?”
She was quiet for several beats. “I should’ve,” she finally said. “But I think I didn’t want it to be true. On paper, Jordan is a good match for you. He’s kind, successful, and wealthy. You were already friends, and he could give you a good life. He’s every mother’s dream son-in-law, and I desperately wanted to believe you were happy with him. I told myself I was overthinking things. That was my fault.”
“It wasn’t,” I said. “Even if you’d said something, I probably would’ve gone ahead with the wedding. Like I said, my reasons for marrying him are…”
“Complicated?”
I nodded.
“Are you in trouble?”
“No,” I hedged. “Not really.” If I stayed with Beaumont, I wouldn’t be in trouble, per se. Not the way she meant it.
“Will you tell me what those complications are?”
“I can’t, but I have everything under control.” Sort of. Not really. But she didn’t need to know that. “Let’s talk about something else, okay?”
“Alright, alright.” My mother tsked. “I can tell when I’ve reached my limits. But if you do find yourself in trouble, you must tell me. We’re your family. That’s what we’re here for.”
“I know, Mom. I will.”
If I weren’t grappling with last week’s traumatic events, she never would’ve let me off the hook so easily. Once my mother sniffed out problems in her children’s lives, she was like a dog with a bone.
Unfortunately, she segued straight from Jordan into another uncomfortable topic. “Back to Vuk. That man jumped in front of a bullet for you,” she said a little too casually. “It was quite a save.”
“Hmm.” I chewed a mouthful of vegetables so I wouldn't have to reply.
“I googled him,” she said. “He has a very impressive background. It seems like he’s single too.”
My cheeks flamed. I swallowed and said, “Mother, please.” I pointed to the diamond still on my finger. “Love or not, I’m still engaged. Remember?”
“I didn’t say you weren’t.” My mother was the picture of innocence. “All I’m saying is, when Jordan wakes up—and he will wake up; I feel it in my gut—you can sort out your…complications. After that, who knows?” She took a demure sip of water. “The world is your oyster.”
I winced. “Please don’t ever say something like that again. It’s super cringe and cliché.”
She laughed. “As a parent, you get used to being cringe.” Her eyes slid past me. They lit with a twinkle of mischief. “Speak of the devil. Here he comes.”
I whirled around. Vuk entered, his imposing presence sucking up all the oxygen in the air. Sean followed on his heels, dressed in a similar T-shirt and jeans as his boss. Several diners stopped eating to stare at them as they made their way over to me.
I’d invited Vuk to check out the restaurant, but I hadn’t expected him to come. And that skip in my heart when I saw him? Totally normal.
His mouth tipped up when our eyes met.
My lips curved in return before I remembered my mother was watching. I turned back to find a knowing smile on her face.
I pointedly ignored it and took another bite of salad, my heart still fluttering.
Totally. Normal.
* * *
VUK
I hadn’t planned on visiting the Kidanes’ restaurant. Ayana needed time alone with her family, and I had a thousand and one things on my plate.
But my morning debrief with my team had passed quickly, and I couldn’t focus on the mundane shit I had to do for Markovic Holdings. It wasn’t anything important—just some paperwork that needed to be signed. I also called the hospital for my daily check in on Jordan. He was still unconscious, but his vitals had improved and his injuries were healing well. That was something, at least.
Sean, who’d driven down that morning to personally update me on the manhunt, convinced me to “take a break.” I suspected he just wanted to try out the Kidanes’ food, but I let him talk me into the detour anyway.
He’d worked his ass off on the Brotherhood stuff the past month. We hadn’t found the escaped Brother yet, but we were making steady progress. He deserved a break too.
While he introduced himself to Saba and claimed an empty table nearby, I took a seat across from Ayana. The lunch rush appeared to be dying down, so I felt a little less bad about intruding on their work time.
“Where’s Shadow?” she asked.
At the hotel, pestering my team.
She smiled. She was dressed in a plain black T-shirt and jeans that coincidentally matched my outfit for the day, and she’d wrapped a blue-and-gold silk headscarf around her braids.
“You hungry? Let me get you something to eat.” She rose halfway out of her seat before her mother pushed her back down with a firm hand on her shoulder.
“Nonsense,” Saba said. “I’ll get it. You keep Vuk company. Sean will eat with me.”
She winked at Ayana before she disappeared into the kitchen. She returned minutes later with plates of injera bread and beef tibs. She moved her own food to Sean’s table, leaving me alone with her daughter.
“So…this is the family restaurant,” Ayana said. She swept her arm around the dining room. “What do you think?”
It’s perfect. I meant it. I didn’t need fancy china or white-glove service to appreciate good food. The restaurant’s unassuming decor and earthy homeyness matched its owners perfectly.
Ayana’s smile widened. “Thanks. We’re really proud of it. It’s a small space, but my parents prefer it that way. They’ve had plenty of opportunities to expand. Someone from the Laurent Restaurant Group even offered to franchise it last year, but they declined. They said more locations wouldn’t matter if the soul isn’t there.”
Smart choice. Franchises can be hit or miss. The Laurents were royalty in the culinary scene, but more money didn’t mean better quality. If the Kidanes sold to them, they would become just another notch in the Laurents’ already-crowded belt. You said your brother will take over after your parents retire?
Ayana nodded. “That was the plan from day one. Liya and I have no interest in running a restaurant, and Aaron is the best cook out of all of us, anyway. We helped out in the back when we were teens, but that was it.”
Are you happy with modeling? She’d stumbled into the career after being scouted, and she’d achieved extraordinary success since then, but that didn’t mean anything. Plenty of successful people were miserable in their jobs.
The sparkle in her eyes dimmed a bit. “To an extent,” she said cautiously, lowering her voice. “Like I said, I love fashion. I grew up idolizing Iman and Beverly Johnson and Pat Cleveland. If all I had to do was show up in front of a camera or the runway, then yes, I’d be very happy. But I wasn’t prepared for the business side of things or the types of people who try to take advantage of you in the industry. It’s jarring.”
You mean people like agents?
I still didn’t have anything concrete on Emmanuelle. It frustrated the hell out of me. At this point, I almost hoped my original instincts were wrong. If they weren’t, that meant I was slipping—or she was that good.
Ayana’s face clouded. “Yes.” She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “Hank has been strangely accommodating since he surprised me at my place. I know I took most of the month off for the wedding, but still. Normally, he’d be breathing down my neck about me ‘slacking off on the job.’ You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
I shrugged and washed down my food with water. Maybe he figured out being an asshole will come back to bite him in the ass. You could’ve sued him for his surveillance stunt.
My team had debugged all her devices, which meant he had to know she was onto him. Ayana didn’t want to confront him about it until she was ready to leave the agency for good, but the more I thought about it, the more I wish I’d stabbed him all the way with the knife.
“Yeah.” Ayana grimaced. “I can’t believe he…” She trailed off and glanced back over her shoulder. Her mother was engaged in lively conversation with Sean, but she clearly didn’t want the other woman to know about her troubles with Beaumont. “Anyway, I’m glad that all got sorted out.”
For now. Once I wasn’t busy with the Brotherhood, I was going to pay Hank Carson another visit. His actions couldn’t go unpunished.
However, I kept that plan to myself. No need to involve Ayana in the less savory parts of my business.
“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” she asked.
“The team and I were going to take him out for drinks,” Sean said before I could answer. Saba had left to take care of a customer, and he’d obviously been eavesdropping. “He turned the big three-five today.”
I could’ve strangled him.
Ayana’s eyes rounded. “It’s your birthday?”
Technically. I followed up my reluctant response with a glare at Sean, who was too busy scarfing down a second helping of beef to notice.
He was the consummate professional at work, but put him in front of a plate of food and he lost all decorum.
“Oh my God!” Ayana slapped her hands on the table. “We have to celebrate.”
I fought a grimace. I’m not big on celebrations. I hated birthdays. They reminded me that Lazar was no longer around to celebrate with me.
The gradual dimming of Ayana’s smile told me she’d just come to the same conclusion.
“Celebrate what?” Her mother returned in time to hear the tail end of our conversation.
“It’s Vuk’s birthday.” Ayana tucked a braid behind her ear. “But he wants to keep it low-key, so we?—”
“Nonsense.” Saba planted her hands on her hips. “Birthdays are special. You shouldn’t be spending them inside. In fact…” She pursed her lips. “Ayana, why don’t you show Vuk around the city? I’m sure he’d love to see more of D.C.”
That’s not ? —
“Mom, he doesn’t want?—”
“It’s settled, then,” Saba said, ignoring our protests. “But first, I have something for you.”
Thank you, but it’s really not ?—
She vanished into the kitchen.
Necessary , I finished.
Ayana groaned. “I’m so, so sorry,” she said. “There’s no stopping my mom once she sets her mind to something. If you don’t want to celebrate, we totally don’t have to. We can just walk around and pretend it’s not your birthday. I don’t want you to feel…bad.” She stumbled over the last word.
A sliver of amusement loosened the fist around my heart. I tried to forget about my birthday whenever possible, but she was so endearingly worried, it made the occasion feel more bearable.
Don’t worry about it. I’ll be okay.
The kitchen doors swung open. Saba came out carrying more plates and a bottle of golden orange liquid.
“Baklava and our signature honey wine,” she announced. “I won’t subject you to a happy birthday song, but I insist you try our dessert before you leave.”
I didn’t argue.
Sean and I cleared out our plates in record time. When he tried to join me and Ayana as we got up to leave, Saba stopped him with a pointed arch of her brow.
“Never mind. I’ll stay and, uh, review our security plans,” he said. “I’ll let you know if anything pressing comes up.”
I smirked at the sight of my former Special Ops security chief being brought to heel by a woman half his size and twice his age.
Tell the guys I’ll pick up Shadow later. I paused, then added, Make sure they don’t give him any fucking milk. Cats are lactose intolerant.
This time, Sean was the one who smirked. “Got it.” He gave me a two-finger salute. “Have fun, boss.”