Wilde Magic (Wilde Women Book 3) Page 40

  Jonas and Amy, however, were an entirely different matter. Jax was speechless when Amy sat him down and offered a blow-by-blow of the shenanigans playing out at Wilde House while he and Brynn were away. Sounded to him like Caleb and Charlie were glued at the hip—until they weren’t.

  Amy agreed with him on Brynn not needing to hear chapter and verse of what their siblings were doing, so no worries there. Whatever Brynn knew or found out, wasn’t going to come from her trusted assistant and friend.

  Running interference between his idiot brother and their foreman was a different matter all together. In a nutshell, Jonas thought Cal was a dick and Cal thought Jonas overstepped with Charlie. And they had to work together. Great.

  It was easy to explain Cal’s absence from their dinner table by pointing out that he was taking on the lion’s share of setting up their business venture so Jax could concentrate on Brynn and their baby. Which is why it was just the three of them lounging around in the dining room after a spectacular meal.

  “What the hell do you mean you’re going to Philly?”

  Jax glanced back and forth between his wife and her sister. It was like watching a tennis match.

  “I told you Brynnie. Finishing my degree means I have to meet whatever requirements are still hanging. Nana looked into it. You know her. She’s got all sorts of connections. I’ve made a work-study request at the University. They’ve accepted my proposal and now I have to go pull all the documentation together for a thumbs up, thumbs down assessment.”

  “Well, I don’t care. You can do the same thing in Happy Valley with Mom and Dad. He’s a university professor for God’s sake so don’t give me that Nana has pull garbage.”

  Jax sat very still and watched his wife closely. He heard the anxiety in her voice. She didn’t like what Charlie was proposing and the last thing he wanted was for his baby mama to get all worked up. He’d step in if he had to.

  “Okay,” Charlie admitted with an eye roll. “Don’t tell Rhi, though.”

  “Tell Rhiann what?”

  “Nana is going to let me curate the vault.”

  He glanced sharply at Charlie when a gasp from his wife split the air. “No! No way. The vault? Does Daddy know this?”

  What the fuck was the vault? Is that where they kept Bryanna Charles’ libertine skeletons? Knowing the old tart, he wouldn’t be surprised at all.

  “Relax. It’s N-B-D sis. You know Nana. If she’s up to something, I can’t imagine what, but seriously. I know a carrot when it’s waved in front of my face.”

  Despite the half-assed reassurance Charlie offered, Brynn’s anxiety was building. He could see it in how she absently plucked at the sweater stretched across her belly. When she looked back and forth at him and Charlie, Jax hoped the innocent expression he forced on his face was believable.

  Snippy and whining, his wife let them know that she didn’t care for being kept in the dark. “I do not react well to being the last to know.”

  Challenge served. Good time to deflect the serve with husbandly confusion. “Excuse me but can one of you explain what the vault is?”

  “My grandmother is having a Miss Havisham moment,” his wife told him with a dismissive sniff.

  The comparison was beyond funny. “Well love, she is an eccentric old bird, I’ll grant you that. Is this vault where she keeps the bones of past lovers? Maybe the carcass of a Broadway producer or two?”

  “Something like that.” She openly pouted, a for real pout, not one of those wrapping-him-around-her-little-finger pouts. “Dad came up with the expression. She’s got a storage space filled floor to ceiling with mementoes. Diaries. Costumes. Journals. Magazine articles. Pictures. You name it. The entire Baron-Wilde history is in that vault along with a breadcrumb trail of her colorful life. She’s held that damn collection over everyone’s heads for years.”

  Charlie studied her sister with a frown. “That’s why I think this is more about Rhiann than luring me to the city. She wants her to write the story and so far Rhi isn’t biting.”

  “Yes, well our sister has other things on her mind right now.”

  His wife looked at him and then quickly averted her eyes. Damn straight she had a lot on her mind. Poor Rhiann. She was having a bit of a rough time at the moment.

  He recognized the minute Brynn’s patience ran out. Things weren’t going the way she wanted them to. He was going to have his hands full when they went to bed later. He was married to a strong woman. The way she lived and the choices Brynn made spoke of her courage, tenacity and serious backbone. But when it was just the two of them, a different side of her came out. The side where her feelings lived. She was a pregnant hormonal mess at times. Like now.

  “I don’t want you under Nana’s control but you won’t listen to me,” she griped. “And I guess Philadelphia is better than you running back to Italy.”

  Charlie jumped up and hugged her sister. “Thanks Brynnie. And I do listen to you sis it’s just that some things,” her brows snapped together and she stopped talking.

  “Some things what?”

  “Oh, nothing, nothing,” Charlie chirped as she tried to laugh off her near gaffe. Waving her fingers, she cleverly used the ditzy blonde fade to cut Brynn off. “You know me. Mouth always out ahead of sense.”

  Far as evasive tactics went, it was just enough.

  “When do you have to leave?”

  Jax wondered if Cal had any inkling that his woman was about to fly the coop.

  “Soon as possible. New semester already started. The longer I drag my feet the longer it’ll take.”

  Brynn looked at him. He saw the tears gathering in her eyes. Standing up, he pushed his chair in and reached out his hand for her to take. “Come on love. Time to relax and get your feet up. Pretty sure there’s a Friends marathon on or something.”

  She sighed heavily and stood up, rubbing a hand in big circles on her tummy. “She wants ice cream, Daddy. And syrup. Lots of chocolate syrup.” Then his extraordinary wife turned to her sister. “I trust your instincts hippie girl. If you say Philly is where you have to be, I’m good. But I’ll tell you what, if you’re keeping something from me,” she glanced his way for a brief second. “I’ll take your name off my babysitting list and you can go suck a lemon.”

  Charlie grinned as she put both of her hands on the bump. “Don’t threaten me bakery bitch!” she chortled. “Me and my niece or nephew already have a plan for how to bring mayhem and chaos to your list-filled life.”

  Brynn laughed. “More trouble than you’re worth baby bitch.”

  Jax shook his head. These Wilde women were a rare breed of awesomeness.

  PLEASE DON’T DO THIS.

  She couldn’t make those words stop echoing in her head. Caleb’s plea that she not leave. But the words and her leaving were both pieces of a mismatched china set. That was how she saw their relationship. Beautiful, if shabby, and completely impractical. Chips, cracks, fractures and all.

  Charlie packed her stuff and was on her way to Nana’s within days of telling Brynn what she planned to do. Waiting around for something to change was just stupid. She’d had enough and needed some distance. Not a lot, just enough to get her head straight and pull it together.

  A lot of water had flown under the bridge since.

  Tearing open a battered box marked BCBW she pushed hair escaping her ponytail away from her face and peered inside. Most of what she’d already sorted through was unimportant, dry stuff. She thought of it like kindling. Necessary to build the bonfire but little more than a pile of twigs and branches.

  First glance inside, though, and she knew right away this one was different. Right on top was an old photograph album with gold embossed flourishes on the spine and cover. Her top teeth came down and grabbed onto her bottom lip as she carefully lifted the potential treasure from the cardboard container.

  It was heavy. Big. She pulled the album against her chest and leaned her head. She smelled old books, a hint of rose and memories. She smelled memories.


  Charlie moved swiftly to a big round table she was using as a desk, swept a pile of papers and magazines aside and gently settled the leather album. Pulling up a rolling stool, she sat down, rubbed her hands on her jean covered thighs a couple of times and took a deep breath.

  What would she find today?

  Nibbling on her bottom lip, she carefully, almost reverently lifted the cover and guided it open. She gasped quietly when a picture of her fantastically handsome grandfather appeared.

  Anthony Baron-Wilde, the much-lauded patriarch of the family passed away suddenly when Charlie was only ten. More than a dozen years had gone by since then but she remembered her Grandad with enormous affection. To a little girl, the courtly gentleman was larger than life. He had a wicked laugh and a fearsome temper. Ridiculously good-looking, he might have led a life of privilege but he was a serious humanitarian who devoted his time and energies to a variety of charitable organizations and trusts.

  As she turned the pages, Charlie was treated to a history of his boyhood. Her heart raced as she studied the sepia prints and black & white photos from a different century.

  The debonair businessman he grew into was a devout bachelor who fell fast and hard for a vivacious actress with a very public wild streak. Anthony was Nana’s prince.

  Shutting the album, Charlie took her water bottle and went to sit by one of the tall leaded glass windows in the library of Nana’s house where she spent her days.

  Weeks had gone by. Long, excruciating weeks and instead of moving on like she planned to, all she did was think. About Caleb and her. Even though it felt like her life was in pieces, she never let on. Couldn’t. Not with Brynn being pregnant and then the whole crazy, insane spectacle that Rhiann and Liam Ashforth put on.

  She still couldn’t wrap her mind around everything her sister went through since Christmas. Lost her job, went to hide out at Brynn’s wedding gift house in the Outer Banks. Then some half-baked lunatic with a hard-on for Liam started stalking Rhi. Liam and his bodyguard rushed to North Carolina on a rescue mission. Somehow Rhi got kidnapped and very nearly killed. There were SWAT teams, undercover operatives, the FBI. You name it.

  Rhiann wasn’t exactly known for being the low-key sister.

  The kerfuffle with Rhi gave Nana a for real, this time, heart episode and landed her in the hospital. Matter of fact, she thought as she grabbed the vintage watch necklace she picked up during a stroll along antique row, she better get a move on.

  Every afternoon, she dropped whatever she was doing and got dressed up to go have tea with Nana. The doctors insisted on keeping her for observation, they said—but she suspected there was more to it. This time, the health scare was real. Her grandmother was in her eighties and she couldn’t be fucking around and not taking care of herself.

  Forty-five minutes later, Nana’s driver, the curmudgeonly Mr. Armstrong, rang to let her know he was in the garage waiting. Taking the subway or a bus, even calling a cab wouldn’t be a problem. Not in a city like Philadelphia but Nana insisted Mr. Armstrong see to her safety.

  A short drive later, they arrived at the hospital where the driver opened her door and helped her from the car with quite a flourish. She immediately missed Caleb. He did good car, never failing to take control of her door and staying close to help her in or out.

  Damn. See? This was the problem. Every little thing reminded her of something she couldn’t forget.

  Her heels tapped along the shiny hospital corridor floors. She liked the soothing cadence. Helped narrow her scattered thoughts. Being present for her grandmother was important to Charlie. Seeing to Nana’s emotional needs fell to her, since she was the closest to the situation.

  She checked out her appearance in a polished steel panel next to the elevator. Charlie was playing a part. Her grandmother was a fixture in the city’s old school social scene. This was not the time for a Janis Joplin costume change. The simple navy blue pencil skirt and matching blouse made the most of her cool blonde coloring. With her hair in a neat chignon and the delicate pearl earrings she wore, Charlie looked like a Main Line socialite out for a visit.

  “Knock, knock,” she called out quietly when she reached the door to Nana’s private room. Pushing open the wide door, she heard the whoosh as it moved, followed by her grandmother’s distinctive drawl.

  “This must be my baby!”

  Charlie smiled ear to ear. There were worse things than being everyone’s baby. It was, after all, her place in the sibling and grandchild pecking order.

  It was absolutely not a surprise whatsoever to find her quirky grandmother in high-spirits and holding court before a bevy of admirers from her hospital bed. Bryanna Charles was in the house.

  Waving her to come close, Nana exclaimed, “Charlize, darling. You’ll never believe who’s here.”

  She went dutifully and kissed her cheek, whispered “Buonasera, Nana,” then straightened and looked over their visitors.

  A tall, distinguished-looking man with a George Clooney-ish twinkle and the most luxurious head of grey hair she’d ever seen stepped forward with a nod and extended his hand.

  “Ms. Wilde. A pleasure. Your grandmother speaks of you often. Rafael Navarro, at your service. Brie and I are old, old friends.”

  Brie? Who the hell was this guy?

  Shaking Rafael Navarro’s hand was like being handed over to another time. His grasp was firm, solid and friendly. He covered her smaller hand with his on top and gently squeezed. He certainly was intriguing.

  “You look so much like your grandmother did when she was your age.”

  Nana giggled. Charlie, stunned, reclaimed her hand from Rafael’s grasp and gaped at her grandmother. When the hell did she learn how to giggle like a schoolgirl?

  A shorter woman hovering in the shadows gave Charlie a curt nod. She looked like everyone’s idea of what a Hollywood villainess looked like. Average height. Rail thin. Like, lettuce munching, thin. Hair rat-tailed into a towering beehive, she wore way too much make-up and had the pinched mouth look of someone who never had a nice word to say.

  “What’s going on Nana?” she asked. “Aren’t we having tea?”

  “Oh, of course, dear,” she assured Charlie with a quick nod. “Rafael was in town and dropped by. To, uh … talk business.”

  “Business?”

  Charlie looked back and forth between her blushing grandmother and a beaming Rafael. Only the sourpuss in the shadows wasn’t grinning.

  “Ah yes,” he murmured. “Let me explain. Please. Brie approached me about publishing her memoirs. Ms. Watson,” he said with hardly a glance in sourpuss’s direction “is going to liaison on this project. She’ll coordinate Brie’s efforts on this end and facilitate whatever she needs with my staff.”

  “You’re a publisher?” The picture was getting clearer.

  “Indeed,” he chuckled. “Among other things.”

  “Oh, stop Rafe!” Nana chuckled. “You’re a rancher. It’s just a coincidence that the publishing house I chose happened to be among your family’s holdings.”

  “Is it?” he asked silkily. “A coincidence.”

  What? The? Fuck?

  Ms. Watson was clearly not amused by this exchange and shut down the fascinating interplay. “We should go, sir.” She informed an annoyed looking Rafael. “Leave Mrs. Wilde to her visit.”

  Charlie was nearly flabbergasted when the urbane gentleman went to her grandmother’s side and leaned in for a two-cheek kiss. He whispered something which got him a pat on the arm and another giggle.

  “You’ll visit again. Soon?” Nana asked.

  He answered in Spanish, she blushed profusely and rearranged the cashmere throw, draped over the hospital bedding.

  “Ms. Wilde.” He took her hand and actually kissed it. Oh my God. She couldn’t wait to tell her sisters about this guy. And then he and his uptight henchwoman were gone and it was just her and Nana.

  “Anything you wanna tell me?”

  It was all kinds of funny watching h
er normally formidable grandmother get chopped down to size, just like every other female, by a hot man with swoon-worthy manners.

  “Mind out of the gutter, Charlize,” she snipped. “We did not sleep together—not in the biblical sense. No matter what it looks like.”

  Okay. Not gonna get anything out of her with that line of questioning so she tried another route. “He’s a rancher? And a publisher?”

  “Yes. To both. He inherited his family’s estancia in Argentina. Horse, cattle. The usual. Before that he ran several business. I love Buenos Aires,” she added somewhat wistfully. “It’s a beautiful, old city.”

  Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner! Looks like Rafael Navarro might very well be the originator of the gaucho bean recipe her grandmother had been making all these years. Well, well, well.

  “You look lovely, my dear. I wish you’d dress like that more often—not just when you’re trying to make an old woman happy.”

  “You’re not old Nana. You’re vintage and that’s the best thing to be if you ask me.”

  A short rapping at the door drew their attention. “Ah, our tea’s arrived. Wonderful. Take care of it will you Charlize?”

  Saying their tea arrived was a glaring understatement. A uniformed attendant from Nana’s favorite restaurant wheeled a food trolley into the room and began unpacking the essentials for a high tea. Charlie did what she could to help but the guy had a system and knew what he was doing. So she turned her attentions to her grandmother—making sure her pillows were okay, and that she was comfortable. She even slid the side table close and switched on some music from Nana’s ever-present iPad.

  For the next hour they sipped Chocolate Truffle Robibos tea and nibbled from a selection of tea cakes, cookies and scones. The conversation was light, well-mannered, civilized. No matter what was going on, the unwritten rule of afternoon tea was that no serious subjects be discussed. Charlie knew how to do this and it was something she did well. Tea with Nana was practically a religion with her and her sisters.

  Dishes cleared and the attendant dismissed with a smile, it was just the two of them. Something was on Nana’s mind. She could sense it. For the first time, she noticed a slight strain around the old woman’s eyes.