Scarlett Promise (The Scarletts Page 4

  "Barclay," Lisa said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under his intense stare.

  "Barclay. Lisa Barclay," Ricky repeated and then went back to his paper. "Lisa Barclay."

  "Can I trust you with Lisa?" Francine cut into Ricky's muttering.

  Ricky lowered the paper again, a faraway look in his eyes. "Sure. Lisa Barclay is safe under my care. You don't have to worry about me, Francine."

  Lisa stifled a giggle as Francine closed her eyes and muttered something indistinguishable under her breath.

  She opened them and gave Ricky a baleful stare. "Before the treatment you would be...never mind."

  "I must have been awful." Ricky stood up and then grimaced. "My legs..."

  "That's it!" Francine frowned. "I am getting you a physiotherapist today! I don't care how much it costs; the therapist is going with you to Treasure Beach. As a matter of fact, I am going to call Gerard. He heads a practice in New Kingston. They should be able to spare somebody for you."

  She turned to Lisa. "In the meantime, let's go shopping."

  She got up and headed to the door.

  "I don't have any shoes." Lisa hurried after her.

  Francine stopped and looked at her feet.

  "I might have something your size."

  She had a whole closet dedicated to designer shoes and as providence would have it, they wore the same size.

  "Sometimes the wrong choices bring us to the right places," Lisa read out loud, staring at the quote on the personalized t-shirts.

  "Rubbish." Francine snorted beside her. "Wrong choices are always wrong! If you reach the right place, you fool yourself that your mistakes were worth it."

  "Or God led you to the right place anyway," Lisa muttered under her breath.

  She saw another t-shirt and read it out loud. "If life gives you lemons make lemonade."

  Francine nodded. "Now that one I can agree with. I have always been a lemonade making kind of person. Take you, for example. You are one big lemon."

  She snapped her fingers and a saleslady came running over to them, apologizing for not coming over sooner.

  Lisa followed behind them sedately; she was still in a mild state of shock. Her morning so far was unlike any morning in her recent twenty years. She was suddenly thrust into the role of Cinderella, without the prince and the wicked stepsisters.

  ****

  She had picked up her bag from Jackie, who had still been sleepy when she let her in.

  "I got a job," Lisa had told her. Jackie had not asked any questions. She had wished her well and then went back to sleep.

  Next she had been chauffeur driven to Francine's New Kingston office. Francine had shares in or owned many companies, it would seem. She kept an office on the very top floor of her building.

  Lisa followed her and was taken to the dining room for breakfast by Francine's secretary. Francine was not hungry but Lisa was.

  The news reports were inundated with the death of Raybourne Cross.

  Raybourne Cross, beloved politician, lawyer, teacher friend of the people, was found dead last night by his son Nathan Cross. It is suspected that he died of a heart attack. Police suspect no foul play.

  Lisa breathed a sigh of relief. No foul play and apparently his son, Nathan, had not mentioned her either. He was probably too ashamed of mentioning what his father was doing.

  She tuned into her present surroundings. It was the same news item on the twelve o'clock news.

  Francine had ordered the clerk to find modest, tasteful apparel for her to wear; the girl was busily rifling through a rack of clothes while Francine stood in a corner and was barking orders on her phone.

  She covered the mouthpiece and growled at the clerk.

  "Mostly earth-toned colors. She is a housekeeper, not a party girl."

  "Yes miss." The girl looked over at Lisa and smiled apologetically.

  Lisa shrugged. She had no say in the matter. This was still a miracle for her. Despite what Francine said, the wrong choice had brought her to the right place.

  She looked at the television again; they were interviewing some of Raybourne Cross' political colleagues.

  They all seemed to say the same thing in different ways. He was a good man, an exemplary colleague, an honest politician; one declared with a straight face that he was an upstanding Christian man with good family values.

  Lisa sniggered; she couldn't help it.

  The shop clerk came closer to her and grinned. "The whores on Back Road won’t share that sentiment, I am sure. I heard that while his wife was sick he had an orgy on a yacht with his other honest politician friends."

  "Lisa!" Francine snapped, too close to Lisa for comfort. "Shouldn't you be trying on those clothes?"

  Lisa nodded and took the pile from the clerk.

  "And you, no gossiping!" Francine said, pointing to the clerk. "I am going to report you to your boss."

  Chapter Five

  Nathan Cross sat in the lawyer's office and closed his eyes. He had a nine o'clock meeting with his father's lawyer, Carmen Rubidoux. Then he had a meeting with a company that wanted him to shoot their brochure.

  And then he would rest, he promised himself. He was running on fumes now.

  The last two weeks were intended to be a sort of vacation but then his father ended up dead and he was pressed into a whirlwind of funeral arrangements.

  As his father's sole heir, he had been the one to deal with a million and one things leading up to his funeral.

  Thankfully, his Aunt Geraldine had stepped in to help him deal with some of the details. She was sitting across from him now, tapping her legs on the marble tiles.

  He studied her. She resembled his dad closely: the same shaped lips, same heavy brows and long, almost hookish nose. Except her features were softer and she looked years younger than his dad, though they had been twins.

  She was a handsome woman. Her husband and two young children died in a car crash years ago, before he was born. Geraldine had never married or had a relationship since then.

  She had not shown much emotion at his dad's funeral, nor was she showing any now. Geraldine was self-preserved and conservative. It fairly flowed off her in waves. Her pastel colored skirt suit matched her shoes and handbag.

  She looked like she was on her way to tea and not to the reading of a will. She showed her discomfort by fiddling with her string of pearls and the occasional tapping of her heels.

  "I told your dad not to name me in his will." She almost whispered the statement. Nate shifted on his seat so that he could hear her.

  "Why?" he whispered back.

  "You know why." Geraldine cleared her throat and looked around. There was only the receptionist at the desk. The occasional foot traffic was brisk as the suited and efficient looking people swept past them, too preoccupied with their business to be eavesdropping on their conversation.

  "No, I don't." Nate frowned. "Enlighten me."

  "Your father was a crooked politician. I do not want any of his ill-gotten gains," Geraldine said and then subsided in her chair. "I hate to tell you this, Nate, but Ray was a...a...crook."

  Nate sighed. "I know he wasn't perfect, but crooked?"

  Geraldine snorted. "Crooked is actually an understatement. I do not speak ill of the dead; that's the most decent word I could find."

  "I haven't spoken to him in months, not since Paige's funeral," Nate continued. "I don't know what he was getting up to."

  "Since Paige's funeral—that's nearly two years!" Geraldine shook her head. "The Cross family is terrible at communication."

  "It wasn't that." Nate grimaced. "Dad and I were always fighting about me graduating from med school and not practicing medicine. Photography was always my first love. He couldn't understand it. The last time we had a big flare-up, he looked like he wanted to hit me. He acted as if my choice of career was an insult to him. I was staying away because I don't want any problems."

  Geraldine's eyes darkened and she shook her head. "He was so stubborn. He bragged
about you every chance he got when you graduated med school as the youngest in your class. He kept trumpeting about his son, the genius doctor. If you ask me, I think you are his one good legacy."

  "It would have been nice if he could have sent some of that pride my way," Nate snorted, "but every time we talked he managed to find something to annoy me with."

  "The same for me." Geraldine shrugged. "He said I was a busybody, doomsday morality nut, who needed to butt out of his life."

  "And did you?" Nate managed a smile. He could imagine his aunt lecturing his dad and receiving that speech.

  "Yes. Eventually." Geraldine sighed. "He called me last year when Paige died. I thought he was the cause of her death. He cheated on that poor woman so much I think that she stressed herself out and got sick and died."

  "You sound like my mom." Nate sighed. "That's exactly what she said, except that she said that she is glad that she got out when she could."

  "Oh yes, your mother would know." Geraldine pursed her lip. "Her relationship with him was similar to Paige's. Ray was incapable of faithfulness, honesty, trust. To him being bad while appearing good was like a game. I shudder to think we shared the same womb at the same time. Your grandparents would turn over in their graves if they knew that this was how Ray turned out."

  "I'll never be like him." Nate folded his arms over his chest. "Never."

  "I believe you." Geraldine gave him a warm, genuine smile, the first he had seen from her in days. "Your mom raised you well."

  "That she did." Nate grinned.

  "Enough about your father." Geraldine relaxed a little. "Tell me about Africa. Where did you go again?"

  "The Congo Region." Nate smiled when he thought about his latest adventure, "And then I ended up in what seemed to be the most remote place in the world, a place called Kidogo, to find a good buddy of mine from med school, Oliver Scarlett. He said he was in the region so I went to find him. I have some awesome pictures of my time there."

  Geraldine smiled. "You've been around the world now, haven't you? Taking photographs..."

  "And getting paid for it." Nate grinned. "It's the nicest job ever."

  "And you won that National Geographic award. Congrats."

  "How'd you know that?" Nate looked at his aunt with his eyebrows raised. As far as he knew nobody in Jamaica outside of the photographers' circle knew or cared about his award.

  "Your father." Geraldine sighed. "I guess he got over your not wanting to be a doctor. He called me and was very boastful about your award."

  "Imagine that," Nate muttered.

  Imagine that, he repeated in his head. His father was a complex and unfathomable man.

  "Nathan Cross, Geraldine Cross-Keller." A tall gentleman came to them in the lobby and shook their hands.

  "My name is Zachary Lee-Chang. I am sorry for the wait. Your father's lawyer Carmen Rubidoux is off on maternity leave and I am the one who will be handling your business for the foreseeable future. Please, could you come with me?"

  Nathan got up but his aunty, stoic-serious-conservative Geraldine, was looking at the lawyer like she was awestruck.

  Nate almost laughed.

  Zachary Lee Chang would photograph well, that was for sure. He took them to his office and made them comfortable.

  And then he read the contents of Raybourne Cross' last will and testament. He was the main beneficiary, as was expected.

  He got the house, the one in Portmore, his father's apartment in New Kingston and a vacation house in Treasure Beach that he knew nothing about. It was purchased by his stepmother, Paige Cross, as an investment property. His father had been trying to sell it for close to a year.

  The real shocker was the size of his father's offshore bank account, with an inflated sum of money, the lion’s share of which was to be split between him and Geraldine and smaller sums for other family members.

  "I don't want it," Geraldine said after Zachary finished reading. "I don't want not even a cent. I don't know how he got it. I don't trust it."

  Zachary looked at both of them contemplatively after Geraldine's outburst. "What you do with it after you receive it is your business, Mrs. Keller."

  Geraldine nodded. "Very well. I'll give it to charity."

  She turned to Nate. "I am sorry dear. I know he is your dad but there is no way ..." She glanced at Zack and cleared her throat. "Let's just say, I am not completely confident in the way my brother acquired his wealth."

  Zack nodded. "That's fine, it is his will to give it to you though, and legally we have to. What you want to do after is your business."

  Geraldine inhaled and then gathered her bag close to her chest. "I hate to be impolite but I have a meeting with the horticultural society at ten. Can I leave now?"

  "Yes, you may. We will contact you in the following week." Zack turned to Nate. "I will need to talk to you further though, Nathan. I am hoping you can stay a little longer."

  "Sure." Nate nodded.

  Zack escorted his aunt out of the office and Nate exhaled heavily. Should he do the same as his aunt? Surely his father was not as bad as his sensitive aunt wanted to make him out to be.

  But what if he was?

  He couldn't forget that night two weeks ago when he had seen for himself that his father really slept with prostitutes—that woman who had fled from the house...

  He was trying to block that night from his mind. He looked around the tastefully decorated room. Eventually his eyes rested on the two photos on the desk.

  There was a picture of a cat with vivid green eyes. And it wasn't photoshopped. He admired the way the lighting was used to capture the cat; he almost looked as if he was glowing.

  That was good work. He looked at the edge of the photo to see if he could find an initial but saw none.

  If Zachary Lee Chang took it, he had skills as a photographer.

  He looked at the next photo. Though professional, it wasn't as good as the one with the cat. It was a photo of Zachary and who he presumed was Zachary's wife. They were standing in the water at the beach. His wife had her hand curled around his chest. It was obvious the love and trust captured in a moment.

  They were both beautiful people and they looked very much in love. If the photographer had included less of the sky, the picture would have been perfect. Of course, this was not something a regular person would pick up.

  "Zack, is your client here? I really want to...oops." An extremely beautiful woman with Asian features poked her head around the door. "Sorry, didn't know you were already here."

  "It's okay." Nathan nodded to her.

  She came into the office fully and Nathan saw that she had a big engagement ring on her finger. He did an inward smirk. But of course a lady this gorgeous wasn't single.

  "I am Amoy Gardener, and you must be Nathan Cross. I have seen some of your photographs—wow, just wow." She shook his hand. "I am sorry for your loss, by the way. Your father was a well-liked politician."

  "Er... thanks." Nate nodded. He never knew how to respond to condolences. He was not exactly grieving normally; he was grappling more with regret than anything else. His chief regret was wishing that he knew his father a bit better.

  He changed the subject and pointed to her ring. "Congratulations on your engagement."

  Amoy smiled. "Thank you; my wedding is in six months, June. I heard that Zack had an appointment with you today and I wanted to talk to you so badly. First of all, I know you are too famous for weddings for ordinary people but..."

  Nate laughed. "I do weddings."

  "It's not a large wedding. Just close family, mine and his, which is about one hundred and fifty persons both sides."

  Nate shook his head in exaggerated amazement. "What would happen if you invited friends?"

  "We are, just very close ones. Friends who are family." Amoy shrugged. "We are both from a tribe, the Lee Changs and the Scarletts. Anyway, I was wondering if the famous Nathan Cross could do us the honor of taking the photographs. Please say yes! Say you'll be here in
June. Say you are not already booked and busy. Say it!"

  Nathan grinned. "I will be here in the first half of June. I go to New York in the last bit for a six-month assignment. And I have nothing planned for the first week in June."

  "Brilliant!" Amoy clapped her hands. "Can I get your business card? We are not sure on venue yet, but I know I really want some gorgeous photographs wherever it is."

  Zack entered the room at the same time. "Hey sis."

  "Hey." Amoy took the business card and grinned. "Thank you. I will definitely call." She nodded to Nate and left.

  Nate shook his head. "That's funny."

  "What's funny?" Zack sank down in his chair.

  "Amoy said she is marrying a Scarlett from a huge clan. I have a buddy named Oliver Scarlett. He used to say that he had brothers and a sister that he didn't know but he has a lot of family otherwise. He was coming from only having his mom to having a whole bunch of relatives. I wonder if Amoy is marrying into that family."

  "Yes she is, Oliver's brother actually." Zack nodded.

  "You don't say!" Nate shook his head. "I saw Oliver the other day and he didn't mention that he had found anymore siblings."

  Zack grinned. "You saw him?"

  "I was in Africa for a couple of months, South Africa mainly. Big contract with a company there. After that I did a mini tour with some other photographer friends of mine. We went to other African countries when we got to the Congo Region I decided to take the adventure and look up Oliver."

  "Interesting," Zack said enviously. "Seriously, sounds like fun. How is it going with Oliver? I have not heard from him in months."

  "He is dying to come home; this year will be his last year. He complains about the medical supplies; he loves the people though. That's Oliver, always loves the people."

  Zack nodded and steepled his fingers under his chin in a reflective pose.

  There was silence for a while. And then Zack cleared his throat. "Nathan, there is a problem with your father's estate."

  Nathan sat up straighter. They were off the pleasantries. Obviously Zack had been searching for a way to put forward this news gently. "There is?"