Chapter 3
CHAPTER
THREE
Francis
“I’m too old for this shit, Francis.”
Anne Lau—formerly Liang, because, yes, she changed her name legally the moment the divorce was final—sat in the middle of my kitchen floor in a pair of black Bermuda shorts and a pink knit tank top with her legs spread, her house slippers dangling from her turned-in toes, and a comically annoyed expression on her face.
“Well, you look damn good for an old woman, Mom.” I was tired too.
We’d been unpacking all day, first the three bedrooms upstairs, then the one downstairs, and we made up the new beds I’d ordered for us with fresh linens.
Then we ordered food and beverage deliveries.
We organized the kitchen while we waited for the deliveries, and when they arrived, we cooked together.
We ate sitting on the floor since I didn’t have any furniture. That was next on our list.
“I didn’t say I was old. I said I was too old for working this hard. I thought you were going to bring me out here and pamper me, not work me to the bone.”
“I will, I promise,” I said, patting her shin. “As soon as I get some damn furniture. At least I’ve got beds for us, and they’re good ones too. I swore the minute I moved out of Max’s I was going to get a high-quality bed for my back. I’ll never sleep on crap again.”
She snorted. “I’m too old to sleep on crap. I’m glad you did that for yourself.” She looked around the vast room, and I noted the twinkle in her eye. “You really have a beautiful home. It’s a lot, though. I can’t imagine you being in this big house all by yourself.”
I shrugged and stretched my back. “I won’t be all the time.
I’ve got my first retreat booked in two and a half weeks.
A group of romance writers from the Bay Area.
And then we’ll have the first bi-weekly dance social a couple days before they arrive.
I booked a paint and sip… I can’t remember when.
I’ve got it all scheduled. I just need to make this place into a welcoming, relaxing, and inspiring retreat by then. No problem.”
As soon as my offer was accepted on the house, I started brainstorming, put together a business plan, and by the time escrow closed, my website was live. Almost immediately, I got hits! I decided to start small for the first couple of months, and then I’d evaluate how much I could handle.
She heaved a huge sigh. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to stay and spend more of your money.” Then she straightened and gave me a sad expression. She took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m sorry. I know it’s uncomfortable for you.”
“It’s fine if it’s you.” I shook my head. “I want a fresh start here, you know? I don’t want to tell people where my money came from.”
“Then don’t. It’s none of their business. Tell them you were damn good with your investments, and you’re independently wealthy. You don’t owe anyone anything. That was the problem with your father. He was more worried about what people thought than his own family.”
I sucked in a breath and fidgeted. My face got hot. I hated talking about him. I’d tried to please him my whole life, only to have him shun me when he felt I’d shamed the family.
“Mom, I’m so sorry—”
“I don’t want to hear any more of that, Francis. I told you. I had my own issues with your father, ones I was willing to overlook until he put his reputation before his only son.” She cupped my face in her hands. “You did nothing wrong. Nothing. Do you hear me?”
She didn’t know the entire story, only that in my position as a senior analyst for one of the top finance companies in Silicon Valley, I’d discovered some discrepancies in my managing director’s business dealings.
Things went horribly wrong when I tried to discuss it with him.
Eventually, not knowing what else to do but not wanting to see our clients lose huge sums of money, I went to my uncle Kyle, who was one of the officers in the company, and I gave him the documentation.
“Horribly wrong” turned nuclear, and I was fired… and worse. Max and his girlfriend encouraged me to get a lawyer, and my lawyer said I had a slam-dunk case of wrongful termination, with a sprinkling of other charges to go with it.
It might have been a slam-dunk case in a court of law, but in the Liang family, I was in the wrong. And I still hadn’t been able to shake the notion that I was to blame, that I should have just sucked it up, let it go, and been a good little finance bro.
“Francis? Honey, you have that look. I hate that look. I want this place to make that look go away.”
I rubbed at my face and sighed. “Me too, Mom.”
It was early, but we were beat.
“I’m going to go soak in that giant tub upstairs,” she said.
All four of the bedrooms in the main house had en suite bathrooms with killer showers, and the one she’d chosen, which was on the opposite end of the house from my room, had a gorgeous soaking tub in an alcove with frosted glass windows all around.
“I can’t thank you enough for being here,” I said, hugging her and kissing her temple. She’d agreed to stay with me for the week, help me get the place set up, do some shopping, and then she and Auntie Judy would spend some time looking at the cottage and thinking about it.
I could tell she was considering the move.
It was in the way she looked around the place with an appraising eye.
How she’d lingered on the front porch with her head tilted to the side, looking at the cute stone house on the other side of a pond with a fountain.
We’d fiddled with the panel in the shed that housed the solar battery and figured out how to turn it on.
We both gasped and jumped up and down when water shot toward the sky.
Mom was definitely thinking about it. I wouldn’t push, but I would love it if I had them close.
This undertaking was a thrilling concept, but beneath my excitement was a fear of failure that would paralyze me if I let it.
I couldn’t let that happen. With Mom here, I’d have to stay strong.
She’d remind me of all I was capable of and not let me wallow.
I just didn’t want her to sacrifice yet again for me, if staying in the Bay Area was what she really wanted.
But I kinda got the sense that she, too, wanted a fresh start.
She held my face again. “I’m so excited for you. I want this next phase of your life to be full of happiness and fulfillment.” She patted my cheek. “And if that means a little fun with your firefighter…”
I groaned and stepped back. She did a little dance and trotted away from me and up the stairs to her room.
She’d roasted me for over an hour that morning when I told her about Kendall.
“Uh-huh, and so you’ve got a daddy next door?”
“I will literally vomit if you say that again,” I’d said to her.
But I’d told her about meeting him at Pride, how much fun we’d had.
“No reason you can’t have fun again, but I really do hope he keeps his dinosaurs to himself. There’s no telling what else he has over there.”
I went up to my room and stepped out onto my balcony. I had a clear view of the janky fence that marked our property line, but he had a lot of trees on the side of his house that I could see, which was probably good for his creatures. I thought about what Mom said.
He was so sweet with his tortoise. So gentle.
His voice when he’d talked to him was so loving.
It made me wonder what kind of a father he was.
He hadn’t mentioned how old his daughter was, and I was so curious.
Probably she was a teenager or older, and it sounded like they were going through some growing pains.
Regardless of how old Kendall was, he was undoubtedly older than me.
Would that be too weird for him? Or for me?
When I looked at him, I didn’t see a much older guy.
I saw someone solid. Thoughtful and considerate, but playful and mischievous, bordering on naughty.
Someone to have safe fun with, and that’s what I needed right now.
I was at peak curiosity, and I wanted to know everything about Kendall the reptile wrangler. My scorchingly hot new neighbor.
The next two days were a whirlwind of shopping for furniture, cleaning despite the fact I’d had a cleaning crew in already—it had to be to Queen Anne’s standards—organizing my office so I could hit the ground running, and ordering supplies for the various activities I wanted to host.
I’d had a moment of panic when I thought…
what if no one came to my events? What if all of this prep work amounted to me living in this giant house, alone, with ludicrous amounts of arts and crafts supplies?
If that happened, I supposed I wouldn’t mind if John Wayne the giant tortoise came to visit me.
I would basically be a recluse who talked to himself, walked around with paint on his clothes, and yelled at flowers.
If the media ever got wind of it, they’d have a helluva story. “What ever happened to disgraced finance bro Francis Liang?”
But then I checked my new email for the business, Maison de Reve—I hadn’t been able to use my French for ages.
Seemed like the perfect time to start—and found four new inquiries about fall weddings, two additional artists sent interest forms stating their wishes to book space to work on their portfolios, and I received three resumes for an in-person assistant position.
I would need someone on-site to help me with the events. I didn’t think I needed an admin assistant just yet, but someone local with a background in event planning would be fantastic.