16
Adrian
Four months later.
Four months of black, energy-draining pain.
Four months of thinking about her, the quarrel with my parents, their investigation and my total lack of actions and decisions.
Four months of honoring the family legacy and tradition.
“Are we going to enter the next Crossfit world championships; the way we are training?” Jacob asked me in a sarcastic and playful tone.
“Look at you, not an ounce of body fat on you and I have never been fitter,” he teased with a playful pinch. “Look. Not an ounce of fat for me to hold on to.”
I laughed and my laugh sounded hollow to my ears. I couldn’t put any joy into my laugh. My joy had walked out when Nina pushed me out her front door, four months ago.
“I am concerned about you. You’ve been pushing yourself over the limits in our training and with work.” All the playfulness went out of his voice. We were making our way to the entryway of the gym we had joined at my insistence. Jacob was here for me. A regular gym was sufficient for him.
“I am honoring the family legacy and tradition.”
“Are you happy?”
I laughed and raised my eyebrows at Jacob giving him my signature glassy stare.
“Don’t give me the look,” he said. “And here is Patrick right on time to pick us up.”
We were already out on the curb when the car came to a stop. I opened the door and called out, “Good evening, Patrick. Thanks for picking us up. This place has no parking spaces whatsoever.” I entered and settled down in the Rolls Royce Phantom, and Jacob sat at the other end. Money has privileges—my mother’s favorite phrase.
“Do you want to go on my matchmaker-arranged date for me? Will you help out your cousin?” I asked him, emotionless. But he didn’t respond.
“I thought so,” I said with a small smile.
“Are you still thinking of her?” he asked, so low I almost missed the question.
“It’s been four months. It’s been harder than our Cape Cod to Cairo expedition on foot across the continent. I can’t sleep. I forget to eat. I eat only to train. My thoughts jump from one thing to the next. I am going crazy with thoughts and decisions.”
“But are you any closer to a decision?”
“No.”
“Then this might help you. They want a Ruggs and Rach alliance.”
“What?” I shrieked and then my lungs seized. “How do you know this?”
“I overheard my parents the other night. You know you are the sacrificial lamb to make it happen,” he said, his voice dispirited.
“Aren’t we big enough? We have more than twenty-eight hundred employees with twenty-nine offices around the world.”
“More is better. They want a bigger, better law firm. Your time is running out. While you are touring the offices, they are over here scheming to increase their empire—using you as a pawn,” Jacob said.
“I am not marrying, Kara Ruggs,” I shouted, my throat burning in a blaze, and disgust rising from my stomach.
“You don’t have to convince me.”
“That girl is crazy. She burnt my clothes. She burnt my books. Then she set fire to my car at law school.”
Jacob laughed. “Whatever happened to the police case?”
“We don’t do cases. You know she would have never been allowed to be called to the bar with a police record. I don’t have to spell it out for you.”
“You have two months to make a decision. You have two months to marry Kara Ruggs.”
“Do you want me to throw you out of this moving car?” It was my first attempt at humor in four months.
“Don’t shoot the messenger. If I die, who would be your best man?” At that, he started to giggle like a schoolgirl. When he looked at me, I smiled and shook my head. And for a moment it was as if we were the young men who’d spent four years traveling the world. I looked at my cousin and my appreciation for his constant love and companionship bubbled up to form a lump in my throat.
He’d always been by my side. My ride or die buddy for sure.
We’d shared so much. We’d cried. We’d gone hungry.
We’d seen each other naked more times than we cared to admit. We’d seen each other bleed. We’d seen each other through heartbreaks.
For four years he’d helped me to heal from Aimee.
“I have something important to tell you.” He intruded on my thoughts. “I overheard our parents in a conversation last week. It involved Nina. They’re keeping tabs on her.”
“Are you sure?” I asked with a shake of my head.
“You know your parents and our grandfather.”
I nodded in agreement, then asked, “What did you learn?”
“She’s here in New York.”
“Where? Why?” I asked, my eyes fixed on him.
“She’s at DA Bakery. Go find her. Please. I refuse to suffer with you for a round two of four years. And I’m not going to compete in any Crossfit competition. I love you with all my heart, but a man has his limits.” He paused and looked away through the glass. We were outside his place. He got out and bent to whisper, “Go find her.”
****
A week later I returnedto New York via the Hong Kong office with one thing on my mind. Find Nina. I’d wanted to go find her the minute Jacob told me last week. But I was too cowardly and conflicted over the choices I needed to make before I went to Nina. I’d done a lot of thinking and had made my choices.
I was done with daydreaming. It was time for action. I went from the airport to DA Bakery to get the most famous pastry in New York. The famous pastry was calling my name. I was ready to put aside my strict dietary regime to sink my teeth into the gooey goodness of a perfect pastry.
And, of course, my heart was yearning for a glimpse of my favorite pastry chef.
The moment Jacob told me she was in New York, the urge to see her face again, to see her smile again, to hear her voice again, possessed me. And wouldn’t let me go.
I didn’t see the dirty streets, the throngs of people, the scaffolding on almost every other building as we inched our way closer to Nina. I was like a man dying from thirst with his tongue out for a drop of water. I was dying and I needed to see her.
Patrick stopped outside the bakery and I got out and walked into the bakery. I had a single purpose. To see her.
I got inside and she was in the front room, conducting a demonstration. She was pouring milk into a shot glass made of chocolate for a customer at the counter. Our eyes connected across the room. She stumbled on a word. I saw her chest rise and fall. The same way my chest rose and fell. My blood raced like a comet through the sky. I made my way to order my pastry on legs shaking like Jello.
My lips parted and I smiled wistfully. Her hair was longer. A pile of soft bronze curls. Her lips glimmered with bronze lip gloss. Her eyes were smoky and sexy. And her pink chef’s uniform did nothing to hide her soft curves. Nina. She’s here in the flesh.
I bought my pastry and walked out of the bakery, but not before stealing one more glance of her. I recorded her image for eternal storage in my memory vault. Hoping, praying it would slake my need for her.
Who was I? Was I strong enough to walk away from my family name? From its dynasty? Or would I get over this hurt and accept my place in the family line?
Four months on and my answers remained elusive.