Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Helia and Dulcie navigated down the Bacco drive in silence.
Outward silence, anyway. In Helia’s head, her thoughts bounced from what she and Collin had done in his bedroom, to Kelly’s weird comments, to picturing Collin changing out of his pants, to the dead body—bodies—hovering on the periphery of her life, to sleeping beside Collin, to wondering why Dulcie hadn’t mentioned anything about it.
There might have been one or two more thoughts about Kendall, her mom, and what killed Roger Wilde, too.
But mostly she wondered why Dulcie hadn’t said anything about finding her in Collin’s room. It was possible he was being polite, but when had a group of brothers ever been so polite as to not want the deets on their sibling, if for no other reason than to torment them at some later time?
With each quarter mile that ticked by, the tension in her body ratcheted up, waiting for Dulcie to ask something. When the entrance to Sundaram came into view, she couldn’t take it anymore.
“I don’t think I ever fell out of love with him,” she said.
“I had to let him go, to move on, when we were kids, but he was always there. Like this foundational thing inside me, grounding me. Not like a cement block tied to my ankle or anything like that. Whatever it is between us hasn’t ever held me back from living my life.
More like it’s been a security blanket. No, that’s not right either.
It was like he taught me what it meant to be good and what I should expect from myself and the people in my life.
He gave me a confidence that burrowed its way into my soul and let me try new things, have adventures, get my heart broken and know that I’d be okay.
I don’t regret the seventeen years we both went off and lived our lives—he has you all and I have a life I love, too—but coming together now feels right.
As if we couldn’t have done it before. I don’t know if you believe in fate or soulmates or any of those things—hell, I don’t know if I believe in them, but it feels like this is when we were supposed to come back into each other’s lives. ”
Adrenaline from her rushed explanation tripped through her body, and she forced a deep breath as she waited for Dulcie to respond. Or at least acknowledge what she’d said. They reached the entrance before he obliged her.
“Have you told him any of this?”
She passed through the gate, then stopped. She wasn’t quite ready to have her work life intrude on this conversation. “In a way, yes, we’ve talked about it.”
Dulcie’s gaze stayed fixed on Sundaram. “Good.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Good? That’s all you’re going to say?”
His lips twitched. “Is there something else I should say? I sure as hell don’t want any details about what happened in your room last night.”
She blinked. Fair, she wasn’t about to give him any, either. “You don’t have an opinion on this? He’s your brother.”
“My opinion doesn’t matter. Not at the end of the day. But if you’re asking whether I have reservations, there’s only one, and it has nothing to do with you as a person.”
“Do I want to know? Wait, yes, I do.”
He chuckled, then nodded toward Sundaram.
“Your life is here and his isn’t. It’s not good for him to be here, not in my opinion.
But I know Monk, and I don’t doubt his strength.
If he decides to stay, he’ll figure it out.
” He paused. “He’s been through enough pain and trauma—we all have—but if that journey has taught us anything, it’s that life changes.
If we’re lucky and work for it, it can change for the good. I think you’re good for him.”
She studied him, her eyes unexpectedly tearing up. She wouldn’t cry; well, maybe she would. Dulcie’s words were everything she’d always wanted for Collin. Safety, respect, love, loyalty. His brothers gave him that, and it was all she’d hoped for him.
Throwing her arms around Dulcie, she squeezed. He startled, then wrapped his around her.
“Thank you,” she said.
He patted her back much as she supposed he did for his sisters. “For?”
“For being the family he deserved all along.”
Dulcie’s arms tightened before giving her another pat and shifting back in his seat. “Now that that’s out of the way, what’s on your agenda for the day? Are you coming back tonight?”
She flashed him a slightly watery smile before continuing toward Sundaram.
“I’ll be back. We have a dinner event tonight, then a brunch and dinner tomorrow.
After that, we’re done for the season.” The tires crunched on the packed gravel as she crossed the courtyard toward her house.
She was about to tell Dulcie what time she’d be back when two figures emerged from the kitchen. She slowed and frowned.
“What?” Dulcie demanded.
“Nothing bad,” she assured him. “Just weird,” she added, rolling down her window. “Trish,” she called out.
The woman jerked her head around, then approached with a smile. “Helia, it’s good to see you.” Her attention shifted to Dulcie. “And you, too.”
Helia’s hackles rose at the purr in Trish’s tone. She didn’t begrudge Dulcie the admiration, but honestly, between Trish and Kelly, didn’t these people know the difference between personal and professional?
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her gaze shifting between Trish and Greg, who’d followed.
Trish waved a hand. “You mentioned that Sundaram sometimes imports food for events. I’m considering a potential business model to serve smaller, independent places.”
“New business model?” she asked.
Trish nodded. “We all know the major importers in the area, but I’m exploring whether there’s a market for smaller shipments of more unusual foods or from smaller farmers who don’t have the inventory to do business with the big dogs. Kind of building on the idea of farm to fork, but cross-border.”
That idea actually sounded interesting. A lot of restaurants would get on board with that kind of model, if for no other reason than to expand their own reputation for supporting small businesses.
“And consolidating the smaller businesses like ours helps make the import part a little more feasible,” she said. Both Trish and Greg nodded. “Well, you’re in good hands.” She gestured to Greg, who smiled back. “I’m going to check in with Akin before seeing what help is needed for tonight.”
Greg and Trish moved off, toward Trish’s car. By the time Helia parked and started walking to the kitchen, she’d gone. “You don’t have to stay, you know,” she said to Dulcie.
“I’ll head back once you’re settled in your office,” he replied. Not feeling the need to argue, she continued to the kitchen.
“Akin!” she called with a smile. The chef’s gaze flickered up from a glass pan that held ciabatta dough, his fingers pressed gently into the top.
“Arabinrin kekere,” he called back with a slashing smile.
“Yoruba for ‘little sister,’” she said to Dulcie. “How is it going? Need anything?”
Akin shook his head. “We’re representing seven cultures tonight—each food from a different country. I think they will be pleased,” he said, referring to their clients.
“Of course they will, because everything you make is delicious,” she said, earning her another smile.
“You hear Trish’s idea?” she asked, picking up a carrot and taking a bite.
Akin’s focus fell back to the pan. There were eight more lined up waiting for his final magic. His head bobbed. “More than one restaurant has been ‘made’ by finding that one unique thing to add to their menu. It’s not a bad idea if she can pull it off.”
“Are you interested?” she asked, leaning her hip against the counter. Dulcie propped his shoulder against the wall opposite, his eyes scanning the space.
Akin lifted a shoulder. “We’re not a restaurant. Our reputation is built on everything Sundaram does, not only the food. It could be useful to us if we have a need for a unique product, but on a day-to-day basis, well, we shall see.”
She considered his answer. They didn’t need to brainstorm at the moment, though, so she pushed off the counter. “I’ll be in my office. Text if you need anything,” she said.
“I always do, adunni mi,” he replied, already working on the next two pans.
“What did those last words mean?” Dulcie asked when they exited the kitchen.
“Sweetness, or something like that,” she replied as they made their way across the courtyard to the main building.
“How long has he worked here?”
“Eight years, and we adore him,” she answered. “Thankfully, he likes us, too. Likes that his days are different and he doesn’t have to prepare the same menu over and over again.”
“What about Greg?”
“He came not long after Akin. He wanted to leave San Francisco, where he worked in one of the high-volume, but high-quality, tourist restaurants. We needed someone to take over kitchen management. He doesn’t make nearly as much with us, but he has a sane lifestyle.”
“I can understand the draw of that,” Dulcie said as his phone dinged. He pulled it from his pocket as they walked, then came to an abrupt halt.
“What?” Helia asked, her heart rate spiking. Dulcie’s expression had gone disturbingly blank as he read the message.
He hesitated, then shook his head. “Not sure. Monk asked me to head back as soon as you were settled.”
Her stomach pitched. “Why?”
Dulcie shook his head again, adding in a shrug.
“Go,” she said. “I’m fine. I have twenty more feet to walk. But promise you’ll text if something’s wrong. Or if Leo’s found anything. I’ll be busy much of the day, but I still want to know.”
He didn’t hesitate to reassure her before jogging toward the vineyard.
She wondered what Collin needed him for as his figure disappeared between the vines.
As tempting as it was, though, she decided not to let her thoughts travel down dark rabbit holes.
If something life-threatening had happened, he would have called.